Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

Dago sat under the golden tree, his eyes fixed intently on the gray-robed man before him, on the face hidden beneath the hood.

The legendary wizard Melville, who has left countless legends in every corner of the Upper Ring Continent... it's impossible not to be curious about his appearance.

It didn't matter whether it was a dream or not; all Dago wanted now was to see the face of the ancient legend.

Faced with Dago's burning gaze and his resolute call of "Melville," the grey-robed man seemed to smile.

The laughter caused a slight tremor in the surrounding space, as if the very rules of the universe were resonating with it.

He neither admitted nor denied it.

But it did not disappoint Dago either.

He casually reached up and pulled the hood of his head back.

What appeared before Dago was an extremely young face, looking only a few years older than him.

That's a kind of youth that "solidifies time".

Gray hair, black eyes.

His lips always seemed to hold a hint of a smile, and his eyes were exceptionally bright, like jewels.

The face revealed under the hood was neither handsome nor unattractive, yet it possessed a unique charm that made it unforgettable to anyone who saw it.

Because that face embodies all of humanity's subconscious projections of the concept of "intelligence".

This face perfectly matches Dargo's fantasy of "Melville".

Such a bright and enthusiastic voice seems to be perfectly matched with such a clear and bright face.

Dago's gaze gradually softened.

Perhaps it was because he was influenced by Melville's aura, or perhaps it was because he knew he was in a dream world, that he felt no pressure even when facing the legendary wizard, and even felt unusually relaxed.

It was as if he had simply encountered a traveler who was willing to share the golden fruit with him while trekking through the desert.

Melville sat down next to Dargo, biting into an apple, the shade of the golden tree perfectly concealing them both.

The sound of chewing is crisp and pleasant. With each bite, not only does juice overflow, but the aroma also fills the air.

"Would you like to hear a story?"

Melville gazed at the endless golden desert and suddenly spoke to Dargo.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the surface of this dream, looking into the deeper, real world composed of regular lines.

Dago nodded, making a gesture of listening attentively.

"Huffing and puffing..."

Melville took a small bite of the golden fruit and said softly, "Once upon a time, there was a king."

As Melville narrated, the entire golden desert fell silent.

The wind stopped, and the sand grains ceased to move.

The scorching sun overhead, which felt like it could kill someone, seemed to gradually become hazy and less hot.

Because the transfer of energy was forcibly cut off by some kind of will.

The whole world seemed to consist only of the rustling of the golden tree leaves and Melville's low, gentle voice.

"He is wise and powerful, possessing exceptional intelligence and formidable skills."

"He governed his kingdom very well, and the people lived in peace and prosperity, while the army was strong and well-equipped."

"He was deeply loved by everyone, and he dedicated his life to his kingdom and his people."

"He never married and had no children. He can be considered the most enlightened monarch in the history of the continent. Elves, dwarves, orcs, and barbarians all lived in peace under his rule."

"He ruled over almost three-quarters of the continent."

"However... even such a perfect monarch has his own troubles."

"The king gradually noticed that as time went by, he had more and more white hair on his head, his back became more and more hunched, wrinkles began to appear on his face, his teeth began to loosen, and he could not even sit on his throne for more than an hourglass."

He perceived a despairing barrier called "the limit of life".

"He's old."

Melville's low, gentle voice suddenly became agitated, thus setting the stage for the story's future trajectory, where all beauty was cruelly torn apart and shattered.

"The old king was afraid. He was not afraid of death itself, but of the demise of his self-awareness."

"Because he still has many things to do, and many ideas to realize."

"He had just learned that there was another continent beyond the mainland, and that there were still many people in this world suffering in dire straits, waiting for him to rescue them."

"He has not yet planted the flag of his kingdom in every corner, nor is he willing to hand over the vast empire he has painstakingly built to someone who will surely be more foolish than him."

"The old king began to yearn for immortality!"

"So he went to seek the help of the greatest wise wizard on the continent."

No one knows what kind of deal the king made with the wise wizard.

It was a brutal game of 'equivalent exchange'.

Anyway, after the king returned from visiting the wise wizard, he began to collect gold like crazy.

"Before the king turned eighty, he was wise and gave everything for his people."

"However, after he turned eighty, the king took all of this back from his people, and even more."

"The king's process of collecting gold was not smooth. His army, under his orders, killed many people, displaced countless people, and destroyed countless families."

"The entire kingdom is wailing in agony amidst the flames of war."

"But the king didn't care, because he had finally collected all the gold on the continent."

"Now all he needs to do is follow the wise wizard's instructions, and he will gain eternal life. He is confident that he can repay everything he has taken from his people tenfold or a hundredfold."

"The king used these gold coins to build a city."

"A city made entirely of gold."

"The king assembled his entire army in the Golden City because his mind had changed."

"He not only wanted to achieve immortality for himself, but also for every soldier in his loyal army to achieve immortality, so that he would have enough resources to build an empire that was a hundred or a thousand times larger than the first half of his life."

"He wants to melt the souls of all his soldiers into this golden city, making them the extensions of his eternal will."

Finally, the king sat on his golden throne, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the wise wizard who would grant him true immortality.

Melville's narration came to an abrupt end.

He turned his head, and in his bright, jewel-like black eyes, he saw Dago's face as he listened intently.