Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

After Dago obtained the "key," the void space before him lost its last source of power and began to collapse rapidly.

This collapse is not the collapse of rubble, but the disintegration of deeper rules.

The elemental particles that originally formed the garden lost their governing will and began to revert to their most primitive state of chaos.

The vibrant sea of ​​flowers instantly faded into grayish-white dust, and the sky, like a charred scroll, curled up and turned black, revealing the chilling void turbulence behind it.

Dago's expression was cold and stern, and his eyes shone with a silver light, a sign that the Eye of Truth was operating at its peak.

In his view, the destruction of the entire world was a grand and cruel feast of energy migration.

He didn't panic; instead, he was like a seasoned wizard dissecting a corpse, calmly observing the annihilation trajectory of every inch of space.

For wizards, destruction often contains a more intuitive truth than creation.

"There are no remnants of higher life consciousness, no hidden dimensional traps, and the chain of rules has been completely broken..."

Dago released the Eye of Truth, carefully examining every corner of the space. Finding nothing, he retreated before the space completely collapsed.

"Gurgle—"

A whirlpool several meters in size suddenly appeared on the calm, mirror-like surface of the lake.

This is not a natural rotation of water, but a physical phenomenon caused by spatial compression.

At this moment, the water pressure and the spatial repulsion reached a delicate balance. At the center of this balance, a tall and handsome young man emerged and gently landed on the lakeside.

His wizard robes were completely untouched by the lake water, and he was surrounded by a force field that was barely perceptible to the naked eye, keeping out moisture and dust.

Turning around, the whirlpool frantically devoured fish and shrimp, then disappeared after a moment, and the lake returned to calm.

Only a few lingering spatial fluctuations continued to interfere with the perception of the surrounding fish, causing them to scatter in terror.

When Dago explored the lake again, he could no longer find any entrance, and the secret garden space had completely disappeared.

Dago's eyes flickered slightly as he gently stroked his spatial ring, which contained the mysterious spatial key he had just obtained.

The touch from my fingertips was cold and dense; it wasn't the texture of metal, but more like touching a piece of solidified time and space.

Through the ring's sensor, he could clearly "see" the key.

It floated quietly in the storage space, and the surrounding low-grade materials trembled slightly because they could not withstand the spatial radiation it emitted.

"It turns out that the entire secret garden was just a key box."

To Dargo now, the entire garden space is actually a giant "drawer".

Those seemingly rare potions, those guardian golems riddled with traps, and even those few relics that seemed to contain ancient heritage, were nothing more than breadcrumbs scattered by the creator to divert attention.

The drawer was carefully lined with a beautifully patterned cloth, on which were placed some valuable little items. All of this was to conceal the key hidden in the drawer's inner compartment.

This is a typical high-level wizard's mindset—using obvious benefits to cover up the real core, filtering out those short-sighted and greedy individuals.

"Everything in the entire garden, including that extremely high-grade mysterious rune, might not be as valuable as this key made of spatial energy material."

Dargo had seen snippets of description about the material of this key in ancient manuscripts from the French Ring.

That is the "Space Stone," a luxury even in the eyes of miracle wizards, usually used only to construct constant passages between dimensions.

The key itself is extraordinary; it's hard to imagine that this key is merely a key...

Whatever it needs to unlock, whatever it may be, it represents knowledge and resources enough to drive any third-ring wizard mad.

Dago glanced back at the lake one last time, then took to the air.

After the Garden Secret Realm was destroyed, this lake became just an ordinary lake. I wonder how the ponytail witch who led him to this secret realm would react after discovering that the entrance to the secret realm could no longer be found.

You may be shocked, you may be angry, but this is the law of the wizarding world.

Opportunity waits for no one, and truth lies only in the hands of those who are more prepared and insightful.

Although the ponytail witch provided clues, she had neither the ability to break the core restriction nor the insight to see that it was merely a "box." Therefore, all she could obtain was this stagnant lake.

During the flight, the air whistled past my ears, and the forest below receded like a green ocean.

Dago sensed a fluctuation from a communication stone within his spatial ring. This specific frequency belonged to his personal contact.

He took out the glowing communication stone, gently tapped it, and probed it with his mental energy, discovering that it was a message from Undine.

"Dago, wherever you are right now, make sure you remain hidden. We've detected unusual soul fluctuations within the Ring of Law recently. Although they're faint, I can't mistake this stench..."

It roughly means reminding oneself to be careful on the road, especially to be wary of people from the old reunion.

Although three years have passed since the Goblin Plains incident, the forces belonging to the Old Days Restoration Society seem to have disappeared in the past two years, like venomous snakes lurking in the shadows, sheathing their fangs, but this does not mean that they are dead.

On the contrary, this deathly silence is often the prelude to a more violent venomous spray, and no one can predict when they will suddenly leap out again.

"The Revival of the Past..."

Dargo frowned slightly as he looked at Undine's message.

After thinking for a moment, he took out something from his spatial ring—a strange ram's horn mask with bright colors, which looked like it had been smeared with a lot of messy, cheap paint.

The moment the mask appeared in the air, the surrounding temperature seemed to drop several degrees instantly.

It wasn't cold in a physical sense, but a chilling cold on a spiritual level, as if countless wronged souls were gently breathing in my ear.

The paint on the mask seemed to come alive, slowly wriggling. Those seemingly chaotic patches of color were actually a manifestation of some kind of distorted rule.

In the previous battle on the Goblin Plains, he killed several wizards of the Revival Society. Apart from a few spatial rings, the most valuable item was probably this mysterious mask he obtained from the Dark Leader of the Revival Society.

Dargo held the strange ram's horn mask in his hand and could clearly feel a faint, eerie fluctuation emanating from it.

The energy surged through his palm, seeping into his pores and eroding his magical pathways. Closer still, one could almost hear the evil whispers emanating from the mask.

"Wear me... I bestow upon you eternal truth... Flesh and blood are weak... The soul ascends..."

This murmur bypasses the auditory nerve and acts directly on the soul, filled with seductive and corrupting connotations.

Within the mental space, the once calm sea of ​​despair was instantly stirred into waves.

The lingering ancient will of the despairing winter dragon Behelit seemed somewhat restless. It was a ferocious beast that once made people tremble in the ancient times, but now it seemed to be facing its nemesis, letting out a silent roar.

Instinct constantly drove Dago to destroy and discard the mask in his hands. Every time he held the mask, Dago felt an extreme sense of hatred and disgust.

This is not Dago's emotion, but a reflection of Behelette's remaining instincts.

"Is she Behemoth's nemesis?"

Dago frowned slightly, his fingers tightening until his knuckles turned white as he forcefully suppressed the mask's corrosive influence and the restlessness of his inner will with his own mental strength.

He had possessed this strange ram's horn mask for a long time. Unlike any magical artifact Dago had ever seen, the mask was densely covered with all sorts of strange runes, which were closely intertwined to form a whole. It looked like long passages of scriptures and incantations, or like a mysterious picture.

Dago had tried to analyze these runes with his mental power, but each touch felt like staring into an abyss.

These runes do not belong to the modern wizarding system, nor even to the realm of human logic.

They are more like a desecration and alteration of the rules of the world.

Dago had seen the Resurrection Society's leader use this mask, and the power it unleashed was almost at the level of a miracle.

That power is corrosive and sticky; once you're tainted, it's like a bone-deep infection, extremely difficult to remove.

However, because they did not understand the specific manipulation techniques, and were wary of the possible presence of some kind of "old consciousness" behind the mask.

Dago boasted that he could not reproduce this power and could only keep it as a "collection," which he then wrapped in layers of high-level sealing techniques.

"Undine's reminder was correct. Although the Ring of Laws announced that the Worldstone coordinates had been extracted from me and destroyed in the presence of several Miracle Wizards and dozens of Third Ring Wizards, the Revival Society may not completely believe it."

In this wizarding world rife with deceit and lies, the truth is often the least valuable thing.

For a fanatical and fanatical organization like the Revival Society, even if there is only a one in ten thousand chance, they will pounce on it like sharks smelling blood.

"Even if they believe me, they might still take me back to verify it... dissect my brain, drain my soul, and search for any possible remaining coordinates in the fragments of my memory."

This is not wishful thinking, but the standard operating procedure among wizards for dealing with the "living knowledge base".

"Not to mention that one of the top-tier Dark Leaders of the Revival Society died at my hands."

That leader is not just a combat unit, but more likely a key node in a massive plan.

His death will inevitably cause a break in some part of the Fukushima organization, and this hatred is far more profound than ordinary murder and robbery.

Therefore, Dago made his exit from seclusion extremely discreetly, without informing anyone, and even used a potion to conceal his presence, but this was only a temporary measure.

If the Old Revival Society continues to pay attention to him, it will eventually find him again through prophetic witchcraft or causal magic.

Dago is also quite troubled by this problem, but there is no good solution at this stage.

Escaping is not the wizard's style; the only way to solve the problem is to address its root cause—that is, to make oneself a presence that inspires fear in the other person.

Only by improving our own strength as soon as possible can we prepare in advance to face crises.

He removed his mask and gazed at the distant horizon, in the direction of the Fairy Plains.

Dago's eyes sharpened like knives as he thought to himself, "On this path of the wizard, corpses pave the way and blood serves as the guide. Only the strong can hold the torch tightly in the dark forest and reach the end."