Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

"Whoosh—"

Dargo rushed into the building and the first thing he saw was an enormous blacksmith's forging table.

The surface was covered in dust, but one spot was remarkably clean—the place where the forging hammer should have been placed, the massive, dark hammer held by the metal golem outside.

The air was filled with the musty smell of oxidized metal.

Dust particles danced in the light, like particles of death.

Dago's gaze, like a cold probe, swept across every inch of space.

A dwarf's house may not have a bathroom, but it must have a blacksmith's fork.

This is not just a lifestyle habit, but also a mark on the soul of this race.

Dago mentally reviewed the information he had seen in wizarding books and looked around the room.

Amidst the overturned debris, I quickly spotted a dark, spherical object. Then, amidst a sharp, piercing sound as it rapidly approached from behind, I teleported away.

That whooshing sound was the howl of death.

It was the mournful sound of several tons of metal tearing through the air.

Dago did not turn around.

His mental power had already constructed a three-dimensional model of the surroundings.

Each flash is a precise calculation of the rules of space.

He was like a free electron, moving between the steel lattice.

The living, silver-encased Dargo, carrying Brontë III in one hand and holding something he had just found in the abandoned building in the other, moved swiftly between the buildings like a ghost.

The wind whistled in my ears.

The shadows of the ruins provided him with the best cover.

He calmly calculated the decrease in distance and hatred value.

He stopped walking only when the heavy footsteps had completely disappeared.

After setting down Brontë III, Dargo casually tossed the spherical object he was holding onto the ground.

"Clang—"

The heavy impact echoed through the deathly silent street.

This is not just a metal ball.

This is the core component of that massive construct.

It is its observation center and its logic processor.

This black sphere, its surface so rusted that its original shape was almost unrecognizable, should be, if Dago is not mistaken, the head that fell off the headless metal golem earlier.

The erosion of time has left mottled scars on its surface.

But under the gaze of the Eye of Truth, the remaining magical circuits within remain clear.

It was an ancient and crude runic logic.

It is full of the stubbornness and toughness unique to dwarves.

Looking at the metal puppet head in front of him, Dago's eyes flickered slightly, his lips moved, and he quickly uttered one strange and awkward syllable after another, accompanied by a few specific hand gestures.

A surge of mental energy erupted from his mind, releasing intense magical fluctuations, and large swaths of metallic free energy particles gathered from all around.

The air became heavy and viscous.

This is a high concentration of metal particles cheering.

They respond to the wizard's will.

They yearn to be reorganized, to be given a new order.

Dago's eyes were both fervent and calm.

He is shaking up the rules of this world.

He is playing a game with an ancient soul.

"#￥!!@!"

As Dago uttered the last syllable of the incantation, a large number of metallic energy particles that had gathered from all around rushed toward the metallic head on the ground, transforming into a dense black vortex that instantly enveloped it.

At the center of the vortex lies endless darkness.

That was the collapse of matter after it was compressed to an extreme degree.

Energy is roaring, and rules are being reshaped.

That rusted head became the eye of the storm.

It trembles, it resonates, it awakens dormant memories.

A moment later, the vortex dissipated like smoke, revealing a black humanoid figure over ten meters tall.

It has no physical form, only an outline.

It is a phantom made of pure negative energy and metallic dust.

It exudes a cold and eerie aura.

That was the chill of the world of the dead.

It also belongs to the coldness of mechanical creations.

Almost identical to the metal golem that had previously hunted Dago, the difference being that this black humanoid had an extra rusty head, making it impossible to discern its facial features, and its body was in a semi-illusory state, without the iconic heavy black hammer in its hand.

[Mirror Soul] Spell!

This is a complex form of witchcraft involving theology of the soul and constructs.

It steals the "form" of the target and simulates the "spirit" of the target.

It is a wizard's clumsy imitation of the sovereign authority of the creator.

Even in its clumsy form, it was enough to display a terrifying power.

Based on the aura provided by the magical medium, the prototype of the medium can be simulated and replicated to a certain extent.

This requires extremely precise mental control.

If one is not careful, one will suffer the backlash from the residual will within the medium.

But Dago didn't care.

On the path of pursuing truth, risk is simply the currency that must be paid.

This was the first time the spell had been cast since Dago emerged from seclusion.

The integration of theory and practice.

This was a perfect experiment.

He sensed the compatibility between his mental power and the spell model.

Data flowed through his mind.

Correct, optimize, and record.

Dago examined the magical puppet summoned using the [Mirror Soul] spell, thought for a moment, and then made some further modifications to it.

A virtual body cannot withstand physical impact.

It needs armor.

It needs flesh and blood.

In this world of metal, materials are everywhere.

The wisdom of a wizard lies in utilizing all available resources.

He raised his right hand, and the metal on the surrounding streets and buildings immediately peeled off and converged towards the black humanoid figure, soon forming a realistic puppet body.

The creaking and twisting of metal was incessant.

That was the symphony of material reorganization.

Rough iron plates, rusted gears.

They were forcibly mixed together.

This forms the monster's hideous outer shell.

Even the giant hammer, the original puppet's weapon, was replicated one-to-one. Although the quality was definitely vastly different, it at least increased its lethality.

"Boom!"

Dago commanded the puppet to attack, and the latter smashed a small hole in the ground with a hammer.

Dust flew everywhere.

The ground trembled.

This is not simply a display of strength.

This is Dargo's actual measurement of various data of this creation.

Force conduction efficiency, structural stability, and energy loss ratio.

Everything was within his calculations.

He's about as strong as a typical second-ring wizard, which satisfies Dargo.

In the wizarding world, there is a strict hierarchy of power.

Reaching the second ring level already signifies a formidable fighting force.

Although it is just a puppet, it has no intelligence and no ability to adapt.

But it serves as a consumable item, a meat shield, and a scout piece.

It offers excellent value for money.

Within the mechanical heart, where metal abounds and the concentration of free metal-based energy particles is extremely high, summoning a metal-based magical puppet to control is undoubtedly the most suitable choice.

This is an advantage granted by the environment.

The wise act in accordance with the trend.

Here, every bit of his magic can have a multiplier effect.

This is the power of knowledge.

This is the benefit of rules.

Although this thing is only so-so in terms of strength, it is easy to summon, and you don't feel bad at all if it gets damaged, since there are metals everywhere that are suitable to be used as a medium.

Spell summons created using the [Mirror Soul] spell are one-time use items, but they will not disappear until the spell medium is completely consumed.

How much longer can this head hold up?

Dago's fingertips gently caressed.

He was assessing the durability of the medium.

Perhaps we can summon it three more times, or five more times.

It depends on the intensity of the battle.

Dago could even consider temporarily assembling an army of magical golems within the Mechanical Heart.

A tireless, fearless iron legion.

They will become the vanguard for his exploration of the mechanical heart.

Remove obstacles for him, and bear the pain for him.

The thrill of being in complete control flashed through Dago's mind.

He was immediately overcome by reason.

Of course, this was just his exaggerated idea. Even if he could do it, Dago wouldn't have that much energy. At most, he could only assemble a puppet squad, which would be enough.