Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

Turning around, Dago's face showed no further emotion.

He took a step forward with a calm expression.

With that step, the air beneath his feet seemed to transform into a tangible staircase.

An invisible ripple spread out in the void.

That was a microscopic tremor caused by the forced repulsion and recombination of elemental particles.

"Whoosh—"

It suddenly appeared high in the sky as if it had teleported, almost level with the terrifying figure directly in front of it, which was shrouded in billowing gray soul smoke and only revealed a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Between the two lies only a gray, desolate realm composed of resentment and death.

The gale high in the sky howled mournfully as the two powerful mental fields collided.

The latter stood atop the black and gray waves, surrounded by countless translucent ghosts.

The ghosts' faces were contorted, and they opened their mouths wide, emitting silent shrieks.

They crave the flesh and blood of the living, and they curse everything in the world.

The Bone Bell looked at Dargo with a look of surprise and astonishment, as if he had discovered a new continent.

There are very few like this second-circle wizard who dare to provoke the pressure of higher-dimensional life.

"This is the first time I've ever seen an ant like you actively seeking liberation."

Maflin's voice was hoarse and magnetic, as if it were rubbing against the listener's skull.

It carries a condescending, predatory pity for food.

"Is fear and despair driving you?"

"Or is it that your barren brain is no longer able to process the fear you're experiencing right now, and has chosen to break down?"

The gray smoke behind him churned even more violently, as if mocking the ant's arrogance.

Dago didn't speak, he just stood there quietly.

Feel the vast, terrifying, and chilling aura emanating from the skeletons before you, like a boundless ocean.

It's not just low temperature, it's a kind of freezing at the level of the soul.

Listening to those eerie and obscure tolling tolls.

That was a shock at the level of rules, intended to forcibly shatter his consciousness.

But Dago did not back down.

On the contrary, Dago felt his blood flow faster and begin to heat up.

Something is awakening between his soul and flesh.

It was a long-suppressed, primal urge to kill.

Having been imprisoned by reason for too long, I finally smelled the blood.

It's not just about competing for a huge amount of gray smoke to increase one's own soul power.

That is the resource for evolution, the ladder to higher dimensions.

Also because—

Three years.

He remained silent for three whole years.

He suppressed all his desires and impulses like an ascetic.

Even the sharpest sword will lose its brilliance if it remains unsheathed for three years.

The greatest tragedy for a wizard is to lose that sense of control over power in actual combat.

Especially someone like Dago, who was forged in the crucible of blood and fire.

He is not a flower in a greenhouse; he is a seeker of truth who crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

Truth lies only within the range of a shot, and dignity lies only on the edge of a sword.

He had always longed for a thrilling battle, for an evenly matched opponent.

Or, a powerful figure who could bring him a sense of impending death.

Only on the edge of life and death can the potential of the soul be squeezed to its limit.

Now, the bone tolling before him clearly met his expectations.

Dago took a deep breath and looked at the skeleton in front of him.

The cold air, mixed with the smell of decay, filled his lungs, making him feel incredibly clear-headed.

The other person casually extended a hand towards him, and the ghostly waves beneath his feet immediately surged and rolled over him.

That hand was pale and withered, its nails as black as ink, as if it held all the misfortunes of the world.

In the midst of the waves, countless wronged souls stretched out their claws, trying to drag Dago into eternal damnation.

"Come, become a part of me, and live forever within my body!"

Mamforin extended a malicious invitation.

Dago didn't dodge, but the azure in his eyes grew deeper and brighter, until finally...

That was the embodiment of highly condensed spiritual power, like a high-pressure water flow compressed to its extreme in the deep sea.

It was completely ignited, just like a flame!

Reason and madness achieved a perfect unity at this moment.

"boom!"

A pure and powerful mental energy field emanated from Dago's body.

This force field was like a sharp sword, instantly piercing through the surrounding viscous negative energy field.

It even showed a strange golden hue, as if it were carrying an invisible and terrifying heat wave.

This caused the void around him to become blurred and distorted.

The light refracted as it passed by him, making him appear somewhat unreal.

It was as if he no longer belonged to this dimension and was ascending to a higher level.

Dago's eyes were burning brightly, and the azure in his eyes had turned into a pure gold, so rich that it was like boiling, rolling magma!

He spoke softly: "[Gray Sun Meditation Method - The Glorious Sun]!"

As soon as he finished speaking, his mental space underwent a dramatic change.

The once calm sea of ​​despair is now churning violently as if it has been boiled.

[Gray Sun Meditation] is the second evolutionary trait unlocked after [Winter Stillness] – [Radiant Sun]!

This is an extremely dangerous state, like overclocking a sophisticated supercomputer to the edge of its thermal limit.

In this state, Dago's fighting spirit was stimulated to the extreme, and his thinking, consciousness, inspiration... all aspects of his condition were enhanced several times over.

The world seemed to slow down in his eyes.

He could see the movement of every speck of dust in the air and hear the desperate whispers of distant ghosts.

Every movement of Mamflin, even the slightest muscle twitch, was within his predictive model.

Every spell he unleashes will be an "extraordinary performance" after his mental energy has been squeezed to its limit.

Every bit of his spiritual energy would burst forth like burning kerosene!

Dago gently raised his hand, and a mysterious aura surged from between his five fingers.

He seemed to have become a giant vortex, greedily plundering everything around him.

A large number of free ice-type energy particles from heaven and earth converged, forming a rolling cold current.

The already chilly air temperature plummeted again, freezing even the ghosts in the air.

That was absolute low temperature, an extreme cold capable of freezing the soul.

Bright, deep blue veins extend outwards from Dago's feet, quickly outlining a magnificent hexagonal snowflake pattern.

Every line gleamed with a chilling light.

A massive, pure white ice blade, the Dance of Fine Snow, burst forth from the seal of the frost vortex.

It carries the vicissitudes and weight of ancient glaciers, pointing straight to the sky.

That was a contempt for death, a declaration of war against tyranny.

Dago's voice pierced through the wind and snow, through the tolling of the funeral bells, and resounded clearly throughout the world.

Listen closely.

"O tolling bell of death, for whom does it toll?"