Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

The black hall, with its colorful runes and flowing light like countless stars adorning the deep blue dome, presented a sense of vastness and boundlessness.

It was not merely decoration, but an extremely profound celestial sealing array, with the trajectory of each simulated star constantly monitoring the magical tides of the Southern Wizarding Continent.

Beneath the dome, seven figures sat on huge metal chairs engraved with different runes. This was a meeting of the seven tower masters of the Thorn Ring.

The air was filled with oppressive and heavy spiritual energy fluctuations, as if even light was distorted here and could not travel in a straight line.

"This time, the Old Revival Society has caused chaos, severely damaging the Black Swamp and the Lava Brotherhood. The Water Palace may be completely wiped out in the south."

"Our Thorn Ring has not been established in the south for long and its foundation is still shallow... Now it seems that this has become a good thing."

A handsome, middle-aged man with a constantly ticking brass pocket watch embedded in his right eye socket spoke with a slight sigh.

That pocket watch was no ordinary object, but a high-level magical device capable of interfering with the flow of local time. As the hands ticked, the air around him seemed to undergo imperceptible changes of growth and decay.

"I had heard of the Old Revival Society back in the Central Region. It is said that this organization once orchestrated the destruction of a certain Central Wizarding Empire. That battle affected several Wizarding Empires and involved dozens of large Wizarding Organizations. Even a sixth-circle wizard perished in it."

"I read about this battle in an old book and initially treated it as just an ancient anecdote. I never imagined that one day I would actually have to deal with this evil organization."

The tower masters present had different expressions. In this cruel world where knowledge and power are respected, the destruction of a large organization often means a reshuffling of resources, but it is also accompanied by unpredictable disasters.

In the eyes of wizards who pursue truth, so-called "evil" is nothing more than a difference in stance and methods. As long as their fundamental interests are not affected, wizards dare to dissect even the most powerful demons on the experimental table.

Among the seven, the man at the head of the table, dressed in a magnificent golden robe and shrouded in a soft crystal glow, whose face was obscured, spoke softly: "How is the investigation of the Old Revival Society progressing within the Law Ring?"

"The first round of investigation has concluded. All members have re-signed their soul contracts, excluding those whose identities have been confirmed, those who have defected from the Law Ring, and the 156 official members who have disappeared for unknown reasons. No other suspicious individuals have been found at this time."

Someone responded; the respondent had a deep voice and a heroic appearance—it was none other than Carlos, the Third Tower Master.

As he spoke, his fingertips lightly tapped the armrest of his chair. Each tap stirred up an invisible ripple of mental energy in the air, revealing that his killing intent was not as calm as his tone.

The man in the golden robe said calmly, "Issue a mission to all members of the Law Ring to hunt down the traitors. The investigations of the other five major forces are also underway, and they should send over their lists of traitors soon. We will then include them in the hunt list."

Carlos and the others nodded. For the wizarding organization, betrayal was an unforgivable crime, because every official member possessed the organization's vast knowledge, a treasure more precious than life itself.

At this moment, a tower master-level figure couldn't help but speak up: "The resurgence of the old is like a resurrection from the ashes, and it even involves the lost World Stone. Shouldn't we inform headquarters about this?"

"It only involves a few medium-sized wizarding forces. Even if a few fourth-ring wizards report it to headquarters, it won't attract much attention."

"As for the lost World Stone, it was already broken. Even if a large power were to use all its resources to repair it, it would take at least a hundred years."

The man in the golden robe spoke with absolute rationality and indifference.

In the pursuit of truth, time and resources are the eternal measures.

A broken World Stone, in the eyes of the vast headquarters, might not even be as valuable as discovering the coordinates of a new alternate dimension.

The man in the golden robe paused as he spoke, then turned his crystal-clear, gentle gaze to a figure in the far corner of the group of seven, his eyes becoming even more tender.

"Undine".

He called the other person's name softly.

With her long, flowing hair, the stunningly beautiful Undine slowly raised her head, and the dimly lit hall seemed to brighten instantly because of her radiance.

Deep within her eyes, it seemed as if water was flowing, an elemental characteristic resulting from her mastery of water-based sorcery—beautiful yet breathtakingly profound.

"Haven't you found the member of your team who has the coordinates yet?"

Undine shook her head and didn't say anything.

Her silence was like the calm before a storm, concealing an indescribable anxiety.

"They may have been turned by the Resurrectionists, or they may have been arrested."

Someone spoke in a deep voice, "This is a seed full of unease. I suggested destroying the coordinates from the beginning. Let's add this person's name to the list of people to be hunted down first."

Undine looked at the person who was speaking, her brows furrowing slightly.

A chilling, bone-piercing cold instantly swept across a corner of the hall; it was a tangible mental pressure. If an ordinary apprentice were here, their soul would probably be frozen instantly.

Carlos and Ronald, sitting in the hall, also changed their expressions. They sensed the fluctuation in Undine's emotions, which showed her extremely high regard for that member.

The man in the golden robe pondered for a moment, about to speak, when suddenly, Undine's voice rang out in the hall first.

"No."

Everyone looked up at Undine.

Undine, whose face had been expressionless moments before, now had a strange light gleaming on her beautiful face as she looked at a communication stone in her hand. The stone emitted a faint but rapid frequency, like the heartbeat of a dying person. She spoke softly, "He has returned on his own."

.......

A giant white albatross broke through layers of clouds, flapped its wings, and gently landed on the top of the silvery-white tower.

Atop the tower, a biting wind howls. This is the core area where the magic of the Thorn Ring is most concentrated, and also the place closest to the sky and truth.

The free elemental particles in the air were so dense that they were almost visible to the naked eye, and they made a faint crackling sound when they collided with the protective barrier.

Undine stepped off the albatross's back, casually waved her hand, and the huge albatross scattered with a "bang," turning into countless bright points of light that dissipated into the air.

This is a creation of advanced witchcraft; it dissipates after use, leaving no trace, just as a wizard treats his tools.

Undine gently waved her staff, and a faint energy fluctuation emanated from it. The metal dome at the top of the silver tower melted away like water, revealing a square entrance.

It was not a simple physical opening, but rather the application of spatial folding technology. The entrance was deep and unfathomable, as if leading to another dimension.

Following the entrance down, Undine found herself in a huge room filled with countless books.

Every book here exudes an ancient and worn aura, a testament to the passage of time and the accumulation of wisdom.

The air was filled with the scent of specially made preservatives and parchment.

Steele, with its colorful feathers, flapped its wings and flew towards her. This usually noisy magical pet seemed to sense some terrifying aura at this moment, and just hovered in the air, emitting uneasy low growls.

Undine casually pushed Steele aside and walked step by step out of the room. Her steps were light, but each step felt like stepping on a taut string.

She quickly stopped near the exit of the spiral staircase, her gaze falling on a tall, slender figure standing in front of a huge floor-to-ceiling crystal window not far away.

Outside the window, a surging sea of ​​clouds and distorted bands of magical light stretched out, while the figure inside seemed completely out of place in this world.

Although the silver-gray robe he wore was magnificent, it could not conceal the decay and weakness emanating from his body, like a withered tree hollowed out from the inside, which might break in the wind at any moment.

"Dago".

Undine's eyes flickered, and she called out a name. Her voice contained complex emotions—expectation, scrutiny, and a hint of barely perceptible trembling.

The figure with its back to her slowly turned around after hearing this.

Beneath the wide, magnificent silver-gray robe, a handsome young man's face was revealed, almost eerily so.

The boy seemed weak, his face extremely pale, a consequence of overdrawing his life force and mental strength.

His eyes were sunken, with dark circles under them. His once lively pupils now resembled a stagnant pool, reflecting no light whatsoever.

The usual arrogance and heroic spirit between his brows were nowhere to be seen, replaced by a deep weariness that was almost imperceptible, and a deathly stillness and indifference that only those who have stared into the abyss and experienced despair can possess.

He was like a ghost who had crawled back from hell, carrying a body full of secrets and scars, standing atop the tower of light.