Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

The intense gaze felt like boiling oil being poured onto my skin.

Dargo not only sensed the heat, but also detected the greed, jealousy, and murderous intent mixed within it.

He stood atop the stone pillar, the surrounding void seeming to transform into a viscous swamp.

That was the mental energy field of the other seven genius wizards, silently weaving into an impenetrable net, attempting to trap him and kill him.

But he had no time to spare.

In his pupils, there was only that ever-expanding deep purple.

It hovered three inches from the tip of the nose.

Close at hand.

Brilliant points of light danced erratically within the ring, each one like a miniature star containing destructive power, radiating an alluring yet dangerous aura.

At your fingertips.

so easy.

This extreme realism ironically gives rise to an absurd illusion.

Dago's fingers twitched slightly at his side, but he didn't lift them up immediately.

Reason, like a cold blade, cuts through the surging desires within.

Is it a trap?

Or is it a gift from fate?

The surrounding air began to distort.

Seven powerful mental shocks slammed into his mental field like heavy hammers.

The cold glint in Michael's silver eyes, and the sinister curses of the others, transformed into invisible blades, attempting to tear him apart before he could touch that taboo.

Dago's robes fluttered wildly in the turbulent air currents, and his hair danced wildly.

But he was like an ancient, towering reef, unmoved by the crashing waves.

In his eyes, there was only that light.

Hesitation was instantly swallowed up by some deeper instinct.

The path of a wizard is like walking a tightrope over a cliff.

If you don't even have the courage to reach out, how can you talk about pursuing the truth?

He raised his hand.

The movements were slow, yet as resolute as pushing open the heavy door of fate.

The fingertips pierced the resistance in the air.

One inch.

Another inch.

Finally, my fingertips touched the edge of that purple patch.

"Buzz—"

The world stood still for a moment.

It is not a sound that is perceived by hearing, but a tremor that acts directly on the depths of the soul.

A strange wave erupted from Dago in a ring shape, instantly sweeping across the entire Fairy Ancient City Ruins.

As the light wave swept by, time seemed to be paused.

The once bustling crowd froze on their faces.

The gaping mouth, the waving arms, the astonished eyes—all were frozen in this moment.

In his mind, countless ancient and obscure runes swept through like a torrent, forcibly imprinting a cold message.

At the edge of the crowd, in a corner covered by shadows.

Lindis leaned gracefully against the broken wall.

He had gray hair and blue eyes, and his face was so pale it was almost transparent, like a vampire who had never seen the sun.

Long, slender fingers gently tapped the golden compass in his hand, producing a crisp "tap, tap" sound.

The compass needle spun wildly, finally pointing dead to the figure in the center of the arena.

"The game has begun."

A playful smile curved his lips, but his emerald eyes held no warmth, only the indifference of someone observing a lab rat.

In the center of the field.

Dago's fingers had completely gripped the ball of light.

It wasn't as earth-shattering as I had imagined.

"Bang!"

A soft sound, like a bubble bursting.

The purple ball of light exploded in his palm, turning into billions of tiny stardust particles.

They did not dissipate, but instead, following some mysterious trajectory, they spun rapidly around Dago.

The Milky Way hangs upside down.

The stars are shining brightly.

Bathed in this miniature starry sky, Dago's expression gradually shifted from initial tension to an eerie calm.

The information that flooded his mind answered all his questions.

There is no room for luck.

There are no shortcuts.

He slowly withdrew his hand, looking at the starlight remaining in his palm, his eyes as deep and unfathomable as a pool.

"really……"

He whispered, his voice drowned out by the wind.

Only he himself can hear it.

That was a response to the mockery of fate.

……

The Jade Court's residence.

Beneath a giant red lotus totem, a young girl sat listlessly on a floating cane.

Her legs swung in mid-air, and the red skirt danced like flames.

Tracy.

A red sparrow, formed from pure fire element, floated in front of her, so lifelike that the texture of its feathers was even visible.

Cardinals flitted between her fingertips, chirping sweetly.

"Did this guy's prayers come true?"

Tracy tilted her head, looking at Dargo in the distance, enveloped in starlight, a hint of mockery flashing in her eyes.

"They're really going to let him die on that stage..."

She muttered, her tone revealing a childlike cruelty.

They seemed somewhat tired of this endless waiting.

"Bang!"

Her slender fingers snapped shut.

The fiery red sparrow in his palm didn't even let out a mournful cry before it instantly disintegrated into countless sparks and vanished into the air.

She clapped her hands as if she had merely crushed a tiny insect.

She yawned lazily, and a single tear welled up from the corner of her eye.

"Let this end quickly... this damn, boring, utterly unexciting match..."

……

"The Battle of Isidore... what is it?"

Below the crowd, Ginya finally broke her silence.

Her voice was somewhat dry, as if a stone was stuck in her throat.

She turned to look at Emily, the silver-haired witch beside her, her eyes filled with a glimmer of hope, as if she wished to hear a different answer from her.

Although the information conveyed by that fluctuation was already extremely clear.

The silver-haired witch Emily remained silent, her gaze on the stage filled with complex emotions.

"snort."

A cold laugh came from the side.

Fink was staring at Dago with the look of someone looking at a dead man.

"It was the legacy that chose him."

His voice was sharp and shrill, filled with undisguised malice.

"but……"

He paused, then grinned dramatically, revealing his gleaming white teeth.

"He must defeat everyone else on the field before he can truly receive the inheritance."

"Everyone!"

He emphasized his words, his eyes burning with fervor.

"This guy's dead meat!"

There is absolutely no other possibility!

Ginya's face turned pale instantly.

She subconsciously pulled a communication stone from her sleeve, her fingers trembling as she tried to input her mental energy.

"it's useless."

A soft sigh interrupted her actions.

The silver-haired witch Emily finally spoke.

She looked at the stone tightly clutched in Ginya's hand and shook her head slightly.

"This is not something he can decide."

"Once the 'Battle of Isidore' begins, the rules are locked."

The silver-haired witch's voice was deep and cold, carrying an air of fatalism.

"Those who are chosen cannot refuse."

"I can't admit defeat."

"We can't give up."

Every word was like a nail, driven deep into Grace's heart.

"Besides defeating all the competitors, making it all the way to the end, and stepping over everyone's corpses to reach the top..."

"Otherwise, the only outcome will be dying on the stage."

She paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping over Michael, who stood high above in the distance, and the other several other geniuses whose auras were terrifying.

"If this year's event were just a simple gathering of genius wizards from the South, he might still have a tiny bit of a chance."

"But this time he also ran into His Highness Michael at the banquet..."

The silver-haired witch Emily sighed, a hint of regret in her eyes.

"He can only blame his bad luck."

Fink sneered and took over the conversation.

"At most a second round..."

He held up two fingers, shook them, and then quickly withdrew one.

"Oh no, he'll probably be knocked out in the first round."

"He is not qualified to stand before His Highness Michael at all."

"hehe……"

Fink's laughter echoed in Ginia's ears like the devil's whisper.

She stood there, stunned.

The communication stone in his hand was sharp and jagged, deeply embedded in the flesh of his palm, causing excruciating pain.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

I could only watch helplessly as that figure, surrounded by starlight, appeared so lonely, yet so resolute.

……

After the deathly silence comes the explosion.

Like a volcano that has been suppressed for a long time, it has finally found an outlet.

"boom!"

The huge commotion instantly drowned out the entire ruins of the ancient fairy city.

The tens of thousands of wizards who were watching were completely excited at this moment.

About the "Battle of Isidore," about those cruel rules, about Dago's inevitable death.

Countless eyes were fixed on Dago on the stage.

All the previous awe, admiration, and envy vanished at this moment.

Instead, there is regret and sympathy.

More often than not, it was schadenfreude.

There's also a kind of perverse excitement.

That dazzling light that fell from the sky is no longer an enviable legacy, nor a stepping stone to the summit.

It is a death warrant.

It is a sharp blade capable of piercing the heart and stripping away the soul.

It is a curse left by Isidore.

To witness firsthand the fall of a brilliant genius, to watch a newly rising star explode in blood.

For many mediocre wizards, this might be more exciting than witnessing the birth of a legend.

It's a kind of pleasure that comes from tearing something beautiful apart and showing it to others.

Some people in the crowd had already begun to make ideas.

They were thinking that after this grand event ended, they would return to their own academy and their own organization.

How can we vividly recount this blood-stained chapter to those who were not present?

How can one describe how that young man named Dago struggled in despair and ultimately died tragically?

That must be a very exciting story.

Dago stood in the eye of the storm.

The surrounding starlight isolated the noise of the outside world.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze sweeping over his opponents on the seven stone pillars around him.

Finally, it froze at a certain point in the void.

A cold smile slowly curved the corners of his lips.

Since it's a bloody battle...

Then let's fight.