Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

"Kill him!"

The sound was so sharp it was like a rusty saw cutting through glass, making one's eardrums ache.

"Those two good-for-nothings, Igor and Yadar, are dead at his hands! Everyone, attack together!"

Viser spoke coldly, his dark green eyes burning with a kind of venomous fire, as if he wanted to devour the boy before him alive.

However, this commanding presence didn't last even half a second before an impatient, even slightly sarcastic, voice came from beneath the black robe beside him.

"Viser, you have no right to command us."

"Shut up!"

Viser's dough twitched violently, and his face, covered in black lines, instantly contorted, like a crumpled piece of cheap toilet paper.

He whirled around, glaring fiercely at the man in black who had spoken. The latter merely let out a disdainful snort, and from the shadows beneath his hood, two sharp gazes shot out like blades, meeting his eyes without the slightest fear.

This is what is called an alliance, a pack of wolves with their own ulterior motives, baring their teeth at each other for a share of the spoils or for status before the prey has even fallen.

Dago stood at a distance, shaking his head with a hint of helplessness.

Former "enemies" meet again, but the scene is so absurd it's laughable.

Viser, that madman, apart from his disgusting strength becoming somewhat stronger, doesn't seem to have developed a brain that has grown with his power. He's still as self-righteous and arrogant as a toad sitting in a well, looking at the sky from the bottom of a well.

However, even if someone undermines Viser, it is merely an internal conflict.

Faced with a greater threat, even jackals ultimately know how to cooperate.

Dago, after all, was the "variable" that had to be erased in the eyes of all of them.

On the field, all the black-robed wizards of the Revival Society slowly began to move.

The air began to thicken, as if it had been filled with molten lead.

Powerful energy fluctuations were stirred up, and low incantations of magic echoed in the arena, like countless flies buzzing in one's ears, or whispers from the depths of hell, causing unease and agitation.

"Don't give him a chance to unleash the fusion of the three domains! Just kill him! I'll keep his body and soul!"

Viser let out a piercing low whistle, the enormous sound waves almost shattering the surrounding air.

With that shrill cry, his wide black robe billowed out, like a sail filled with a raging storm.

However, what lies beneath the robes is a terrifying scene that could kill someone with trypophobia on the spot.

It was a deformed and grotesque body that could no longer be called a "human".

Flesh and blood, under some twisted will, forcibly merged with plants; the skin was replaced by a bark-like keratin layer, and the blood vessels transformed into gnarled vines.

Between those bloody, mangled crevices, large clumps of thick, yellowish-green viscous fluid dripped down, splattering and splashing onto the ground, emitting puffs of white smoke and corroding the bricks and stones.

This is a monster that has completely abandoned its human form in pursuit of power.

"Did you switch from a plant-based to a shuriken-based body?"

Dago was slightly surprised and raised an eyebrow.

Viser paused, a look of confusion flashing in his cloudy eyes, clearly not understanding the meaning of the word "Kreece".

But that didn’t prevent her from understanding the mockery and contempt in Dargo’s tone.

That was an insult to the power he was so proud of, a trampling on the form he had paid a heavy price for.

Soon, his eyes and face were completely filled with hatred and madness.

He screamed, a sound so piercing it was as if a vengeful ghost were demanding his life.

The dense black lines on his face seemed to come alive at that moment, like black worms wriggling and burrowing wildly under his skin, a sight that sent chills down one's spine.

Dago remained expressionless, and with a light step, his body moved backward as quickly as a drifting catkin.

Almost the instant he retreated, a terrifying energy surge followed.

"boom!"

It was a huge tentacle forcibly sewn together from a large number of vines, human remains, and animal hands and feet. It was as thick as a battering ram, and it tore through the air with a nauseating stench as it shot toward him.

Several eyeballs, still rotating, were even embedded in the tentacles, their gazes filled with chaos and malice.

Behind that tentacle, there were at least seven or eight spells with power reaching the third tier. The multicolored light intertwined, yet it exuded an aura of death—bone spears, corrosive poison clouds, shadow arrows… A torrent of spells, mainly of the undead and dark elements, swept down from the sky.

This was the decisive blow.

Without any probing, they launched a devastating attack right from the start.

In an instant, Dago's figure was completely engulfed by the sky full of third-tier spells.

"Boom—!!"

Several third-tier spells collided, creating a spectacular yet tragic scene.

The collision of energies of different properties produced a violent secondary explosion, and the energy aftershocks instantly formed a huge gray mushroom cloud that rose into the air.

The entire space was violently shaking. The mirrored walls that were originally used to divide the battlefield were now shimmering and rippling, making cracking sounds as if they were about to collapse completely at any moment.

Smoke and dust billowed, obscuring the sky and the sun.

"It's not as difficult as I expected."

The twelve members of the Resurrection Society, clad in black robes, stopped what they were doing and looked at the rolling mushroom cloud. One of them murmured something, his tone carrying a hint of relief and a touch of contempt for the dead.

In their view, no one could survive such intense firepower; even a fourth-ring wizard would be severely injured, let alone a mere brat.

"I said, leave the body and the soul to me."

Viser spoke coldly, his voice hoarse and greedy.

He followed closely, using his deformed legs to quickly walk towards the location where the mushroom cloud was rising.

He couldn't wait to find Dago's remains from the pile of minced meat, to extract his soul and roast it day and night over the demonic fire to quench his hatred.

One step, two steps...

His steps were quick yet composed, like a queen walking toward her coronation.

However, when we reached the tenth step...

Viser suddenly stopped.

A shiver of fear, stemming from biological instinct, shot up from his tailbone to the top of his head without warning.

Like prey being targeted by some prehistoric behemoth, his entire body's "vines" trembled involuntarily.

He looked alert and suddenly turned to look ahead.

The next second, his dark green pupils suddenly contracted violently, until they were the size of pinheads.

The enormous, still-churning gray mushroom cloud did not dissipate as expected, but instead—

"Sizzle!"

A sharp, tearing sound, like tearing silk.

It was as if an invisible, sharp blade had cleanly and decisively sliced ​​through the thick curtain of smoke and dust from the inside!

The aura was so sharp it hurt the eyes, smoothly slicing through the turbulent aftershocks and dispersing them to both sides.

Immediately afterwards, heavy footsteps sounded.

"Thump."

"Thump."

Every step felt like stepping on everyone's hearts.

A figure over two meters tall, resembling a demon god, stepped out from the void.

His long hair reached his waist, and the originally black strands had now turned an even deeper black, dancing wildly in the turbulent airflow.

He was bathed in intense blue lightning flames. The lightning was no longer a violent destruction, but a docile submission, coiling around his ferocious and burly body as if he were wearing a suit of armor woven from blue lightning.

The exoskeleton armor covers the entire body, with muscles bulging like dragons, exuding a primitive, savage yet sacred violent aesthetic.

Before Viser could fully discern the figure's exact appearance, an indescribable aura of terror crashed down like a mountain, locking him firmly in place.

That aura was ancient, desolate, and domineering, carrying a kind of contempt from the ancient wilderness.

An unprecedented sense of crisis, like venomous snakes and vines, quickly climbed up, tightly binding his heart and choking him until he could barely breathe.

"Squeak squeak squeak—"

Beneath his robes, countless deformed and bizarre fleshy tendrils on his body seemed to react to a shock, emitting terrified screams as they all flew out uncontrollably, dancing wildly around him, attempting to build a defensive barrier, or rather, to demonstrate a futile deterrent to that being.

Viser heard a voice.

It was a hoarse, deep voice, yet it resonated deep within the soul like the resounding toll of a great bell.

Like the deepest, heaviest, and most inescapable "nightmare".

It rang softly in his ears, no, in his mind.

"The old days".

"The power of..."

These four simple words seem to contain some kind of supreme rule.

As the last two words were uttered, Viser's heart stopped.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.

The surrounding noise, the sound of the wind, and even the movement of light quickly receded from him.

The whole world was fading, leaving only that black-haired, demonic figure, magnified infinitely in the field of vision.

His eyes widened, veins bulging at the corners of his eyes, as he tried to move his body, making a gesture of resistance or retreat.

But it didn't work.

My body felt as if it were sinking into some extremely viscous, transparent swamp, or as if it were being poured into amber that was about to solidify.

He felt that every movement he made, even the thought process, was slowed down countless times.

This is suppression based on social status, and crushing of one's level of life.

Viser could only watch helplessly as the figure raised its arm.

A terrifying black light, indescribable in its depths, coalesced at the tip of his fist. This black light was so pure it could devour even light itself, expanding relentlessly until—

It completely filled his pupils!

That's the color of death.

"Bang!"

A tremendously deep, muffled thud.

The voice wasn't sharp, but it was terrifyingly heavy, like a giant hammer weighing ten million tons, slamming into the hearts of the eleven third-level wizards of the Restoration Society.

"Thump!"

Everyone's heart skipped a beat at the loud noise, their blood rushed backward, and their faces turned deathly pale.

Before they could even react, or even catch a glimpse of the figure's trajectory, they saw that terrifying, ferocious, and domineering body suddenly descend upon the scene.

There were no fancy techniques, no complicated spells.

It was just one punch.

A simple yet unstoppable punch landed heavily on Viser's forehead.

"Snapped!"

It's like a ripe watermelon being smashed by a hammer.

Viser exploded with a thud!

There were no screams, no struggles.

His head, his torso, and those disgusting vine tentacles were instantly blasted into countless black, red, and green blood mists by the terrifying kinetic energy of that punch, spraying in all directions.

Within the blood mist, a golden light burst forth—it was her soul core. Like a startled bird, it shot out swiftly, attempting to escape this terrifying battlefield.

However, the dissipated blood mist did not dissipate, but was forcibly gathered together by some invisible force, and re-aggregated not far away.

Soon, it condensed into the shape of Viser again.

The Resurrection Society's evil magic granted him near-immortality.

Just this once.

The reborn Viser was no longer the arrogant and conceited person he once was.

His face, almost deathly pale, had lost all its madness and hatred, leaving only panic, shock, and a deep-seated, inexplicable fear.

His body was trembling uncontrollably, his teeth were chattering, and he looked at the figure standing where she had just "died" as if he were looking at an invincible god.

"breathe--"

Heavy breathing echoed in the deathly silent space.

Each breath was accompanied by an indescribable, terrifying aura, stirring up invisible tides in the void, wave after wave, crashing over all the Resurrection Society wizards, pressing down on their backs and making their knees weak.

The atmosphere in the space was eerily quiet.

Everyone stared blankly at the figure they had surrounded.

The first rays of dawn, cast from the horizon, pierced through the broken dome and gently fell upon the figure.

The blue lightning on his body pulsed silently, outlining his majestic and powerful muscles, which resembled the towering and undulating mountains.

Her jet-black, waist-length hair was spread out wildly, each strand shimmering with a power called despair.

An aura of legend emanated from him; he stood there, like a demon god from ancient mythology, truly descending to earth.

Dago slowly withdrew his fist, his gaze indifferent.

"The second time."

He spoke in a low voice. In his state of "complete despair and darkness," his voice had a metallic hum, like thunder roaring in the clouds, full of a powerful and awe-inspiring pressure.

"This is the second time you've died at my hands."

Dago looked at the trembling Viser in front of him and casually wiped away the few dirty bloodstains on the surface of his right fist—Viser's blood, with the stench of plants.

Then, he slowly turned his head.

Those pure black, pupil-less eyes coldly swept over the once arrogant Resurrection Society wizards around them.

Anyone whose gaze swept over him felt their heart tighten and instinctively wanted to back away.

Dago's lips curled slightly upward, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth, and he spoke calmly:

"What? Are you all prepared to die with him?"

"hiss--"

A chorus of soft gasps rose from the crowd.

Everyone froze, fear spreading among them like a plague.

At this moment, the group of Resurrection Society Third Ring Wizards standing in the arena looked at the man in front of them, who was like a demon god, and suddenly understood something in their minds.

Why would someone as powerful as Igor, who possessed the blood of the Balrog, and another wizard, Yadar, who had also reached the third circle, die so mysteriously?

This is no prey! This is clearly an ancient ferocious beast in human skin!