Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

For a second-ring wizard to advance to the third ring, once the soul power meets the advancement standards, the difficulty is actually not as great as advancing from the first ring to the second ring.

Dago didn't need to prepare anything; he always carried the necessary breakthrough materials with him.

He casually pointed, and titanium shot swiftly towards the window. The flowing metal covered the only window in the cabin, completely blocking out all the light.

Darkness descends.

It was a pure, reassuring darkness.

It felt like returning to the womb, or sinking into an abyss.

Absolute enclosure means absolute security.

In this cramped space, only the sound of breathing and the echo of blood pumping could be heard.

After doing all this, Dago closed his eyes.

My consciousness sank instantly.

The surrounding noise fades away, leaving only the dazzling gray sun in the mental space.

In the gray sunlight, three pale golden soul crystals trembled slightly, shedding some fine crystalline radiance, which, guided by his soul body, began to slowly converge in one place.

The three soul crystals were like stars about to collide.

They repel each other, yet attract each other.

Each tremor triggered a raging storm in the mental space.

This is destruction, and it is also rebirth.

He is reinventing himself, forging his scattered spiritual energy into a single core.

Outside the cabin, Claire was faithfully performing her duty of protecting Dago.

The air in the fairy city is filled with an ancient magic that makes people restless.

Claire stood like a weathered sculpture on the gray, mossy ground.

"call--"

A figure suddenly flew overhead, and Claire tensed slightly. She looked up and met the gaze of a third-ring wizard who was passing by in a hurry.

That was the look of a predator.

Cold, scrutinizing, assessing the risks and rewards.

The overwhelming mental pressure, like a tangible hammer, slammed heavily onto Claire's protective force field.

The air seemed to freeze.

The latter looked at Claire with some confusion, but did not linger, quickly averting his gaze and leaving.

This is the law of the wizarding world: without the certainty of a fatal blow, one will not easily bare one's fangs.

Claire loosened her grip on the staff slightly, her eyes calm.

The knuckles were slightly white from excessive force.

My palms were covered in cold sweat.

But he did not back down.

As the chief genius of the mid-sized wizarding force "Fel Hand," Claire may not be as good as the inheritor of a top-tier school like Bone Deathstroke, but he also has his own pride.

Since we have promised to protect you, then this is an insurmountable line of defense.

No one can disturb the promotion of the person in the Mushroom House unless they step over his corpse.

Claire was not afraid of ordinary third-ring wizards, or even those in the mid-third ring; his magical artifacts and spells were not to be underestimated.

This is not arrogance, but a rational judgment based on strength.

As long as he doesn't encounter those few monster-level beings, he is confident that he can hold off anyone.

Claire stood in front of the mushroom house, her mental energy spreading out to keep a close eye on the surroundings, as well as the contraction of the outer light curtain and the lighting up of the central stone pillar in two directions.

The light curtain, like a greedy maw, was slowly devouring the edge of this ancient city.

The compression of space means an exponential increase in the density of killings.

This is a form of coercion.

It forces everyone to fight like venomous insects.

In just a short while, Claire saw two more stone pillars being lit up.

Each beam of light represents the fall of countless competitors.

He also remembered what he had seen in the journal of the "Hand of Magic," a senior wizard. According to the journal's description,

The first gray stone pillar representing the spot in the competition for the genius slots that the senior wizard with the Magic Hand participated in was lit on the fifth dawn after entering the Fairy Ancient City.

Five days.

That's the rhythm of our predecessors: probing, planning, and slowly closing the net.

And their class lit up four lamps on the very first day!

This is a meat grinder.

There are too many lunatics this year.

They disdain probing and instead launch a full-scale destruction, from soul to body.

It's important to know that the gray stone pillars representing the seats can't be lit up just like that.

Only by defeating enough opponents and accumulating enough gray smoke can one obtain the certification of the gray stone pillar and ascend to the position of a prodigy.

Every wisp of gray smoke is an ember of a genius wizard's shattered dream.

The brighter the beam of light, the thicker the pile of bones beneath their feet.

The number and strength of the participants in this year's competition far exceed those of previous years.

This is both a misfortune and a blessing.

The misfortune lies in the slim chance of survival, but the fortune lies in the unparalleled value of the achievement if one manages to break through the encirclement.

That's why the Progressive Society was founded. Otherwise, given his and the other members' proud and arrogant nature as wizarding geniuses, how could they have come up with such a shameful idea as "sticking together for warmth"?

The survival wisdom of the weak may sound harsh, but it is effective.

"boom!"

A silent roar came from afar, and the fifth stone pillar lit up.

The light stung Claire's eyes.

Another seat has been taken.

The opportunities left for them are decreasing at a visible rate.

Claire's eyes flickered sharply, and she couldn't help but mutter a curse under her breath: "What a monster!"

This curse contained fear, jealousy, and a deep sense of powerlessness.

Those standing atop the stone pillars were not there for any so-called seats.

They came to trample everything.

But then again, isn't one of the guys in the little house behind him a monster too?

Even more unreasonable.

With his second-level body, spanning one major realm and two minor realms, he killed Skeleton Deathstroke with near-crushing force on the front lines.

If Claire hadn't witnessed such a feat firsthand, he probably would have scoffed at it if anyone had told him about it.

That's a death knell for bones.

A successor of a top-tier school of magic, his necromancy is unpredictable and mysterious.

But he was rubbed into the ground by Dago like a dead dog.

Even now, Claire's eyelids still twitch slightly when she thinks about it.

The scene was so breathtaking.

"Someone I couldn't stand just two weeks ago... now I'm willing to follow and protect them like a follower."

Claire couldn't help but shake her head. "Life is truly amazing."

He chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Perhaps this is what is meant by "being conquered".

As he sighed, the communication stone made a sound.

This is from the internal channel of the Gongjin Society.

Claire took out a piece to examine it, frowned slightly, quickly replied, then calmed down and continued to quietly guard it.

No matter how drastic the changes in the outside world may be.

At this moment, he has only one task.

Even if the sky falls, you must wait for the door behind you to open.

.........

"Michael from the Emerald Court in the Central Region, Vich from the Chaos Society, Gale from the Dawn of Psychic Power, and Evaqui, the Ancient Spirit Shaman."

On the roof of a tall, ancient fairy building, the composed, black-haired wizard Havid squinted as he gazed at five towering stone pillars directly ahead.

While identifying the person standing on the stone pillar, they whispered the person's identity.

Every name is a mountain weighing on everyone's hearts.

The wind was strong, ruffling Harvid's robes.

But it couldn't dispel the gloom in his eyes.

"We should be thankful that the Ash Witch, who could go toe-to-toe with Princess Michael of the Emerald Court without being at a disadvantage, was kept out by the rules of the ancient city and was unable to enter."

"If she were here, this ancient fairy city would probably have been reduced to ashes long ago."

"Otherwise, our chances of securing a spot in the top 32 will be even slimmer."

Harvid exhaled, withdrew his gaze, and spoke in a low voice to the person beside him.

Compared to the confident and self-assured demeanor he once displayed in front of the members of the Kyoto Society.

Harvid, the first president of the Progressive Society, appeared much weaker and more somber at this time.