Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

"Bang!"

The air was instantly compressed and burst by the enormous kinetic energy, forming a white shock wave that was visible to the naked eye.

Michael's figure was like a solid bullet fired from a heavy artillery shell, smashing through the air resistance along its path.

The golden force field that originally protected her, the defensive array woven from countless intricate runes, now seemed to have suffered a dimensional reduction attack.

Golden sparks exploded in the air, like dying fireflies, flashing briefly and mournfully before vanishing into nothingness.

Amidst the rain of collapsing golden particles, a figure tore through the limits of retinal detection.

Dark red muscle fibers cast afterimages in the air, and menacing bone spurs cleaved through the wind pressure.

Dago suddenly appeared on the flank of Michael's inverted flight path, as if he had always been standing there, waiting for his prey to run into him.

The dark red hair danced like a living thing, the ends brushing past Michael's terrified, dilated pupils an inch in front of them.

Time seemed to have been forcibly slowed down by some higher-dimensional force.

Michael's cervical spine cracked under the strain as he struggled to turn his head.

Their eyes met.

She collided with a pair of eerie, scarlet vertical pupils.

There was no anger, no fanaticism, only a calm, rational, and even inquisitive indifference, like dissecting a frog.

That's the coldness unique to higher life forms looking down on lower-dimensional beings; it's the most fundamental contempt for the concept of "life."

A chill ran down his spine from the depths of his soul, and Michael felt his proud bloodline freeze at that moment.

In the next frame, this breathtaking eye contact abruptly shatters.

The flow of time in reality instantly rebounds.

A few dark red snowflakes drifted past Michael's eyes, carrying a strong smell of rust and an ominous aura.

"Thump!"

A dull thud echoed across the platform, like a giant hammer striking rotten leather.

An overwhelming force struck Michael's back precisely; it was a perfect fusion of pure physical strength and the enhancement of rules.

Her backward momentum was forcibly reversed, and her body uncontrollably lunged forward.

On the platform, space seemed to be cut into countless independent fragments.

In a flash, Dago's figure leaped and flickered among the fragments.

Each pause was accompanied by a sickening groan of bone.

Each strike precisely hit a node in Michael's defensive force field, disintegrating it through high-frequency vibrations.

Michael was like a rag doll caught in the eye of a storm, enduring a violent beating from all directions amidst the visual illusions of extreme speed and slowness.

"That's enough!"

Michael's sanity teetered on the brink of collapse as the pride deep within his bloodline was forcibly ignited.

"boom!"

Golden flames burst forth from every pore of her body, instantly engulfing the distorted space around her.

The magnificent armor she wore, named "Life," seemed to come alive at that moment.

Countless intricate chains of runes danced and recombine wildly on the armor plates, radiating a tangible brilliance that was almost like glass.

A violent energy storm swept outwards from her center, attempting to dispel the despairing crimson.

Dago froze, and the array of runes beneath his feet instantly gripped the ground, carving two deep grooves into the stone slab.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his dark red hair fluttering in the turbulent energy flow, like a blood-red waterfall flowing upstream.

As the intense light faded, Michael hovered in mid-air, his expression as cold as ice that had stood for millennia.

She made a fist with both hands, and the free-floating gold elements in the world gathered wildly, condensing into an exaggeratedly shaped golden longbow in her hands.

The bowstring was drawn taut, and a beam of light, composed entirely of high-density energy, rested on the string.

The golden flames atop the arrowhead were not burning, but undergoing a violent fission reaction, releasing a terrifying wave of destruction.

"Taka!"

An ancient, obscure syllable escaped Michael's lips, triggering a resonance of some unseen rule.

The sky above split open, and countless golden lightning bolts struck down like divine punishment, only to be completely swallowed up by that tiny arrow.

The void trembled, and a golden "sun" slowly rose above the platform, radiating an awe-inspiring majesty.

This arrow was no longer a simple energy attack, but rather an attack that touched upon the rules of the "miracle" realm, resulting in its annihilation.

Where the arrow pointed, space melted and twisted silently, like lard being branded with a red-hot iron, leaving behind a dark crack in the void.

Despite the devastating blow that could extinguish any chance of life, Dago's expression remained completely calm.

He simply raised his hands gently, the movement as slow and graceful as if he were embracing a lover.

Dark red frost grew wildly in his palm, a highly concrete manifestation of despair and the rules of frost.

Click—click—

Two jagged longswords, glowing with an eerie blood-red light, took shape in his hands.

The blade is not metal, but a crystalline substance of some kind that is thousands of times harder than steel.

"Ice and snow lead the slaughter, and deep cold accompanies despair."

Dargo's lips moved slightly, and though his whisper was soft, it clearly reached the ears of every wizard present.

"[Miracle: Despairing Red Ice]!"

The twin blades sliced ​​through the air, accompanied by a mournful wail.

A crimson halo spun wildly deep within his eyes as the Eye of Truth operated at full power, dissecting the world into countless lines and data in his vision.

The flow of energy, the nodes of rules, the weak points of space... nothing can hide from the truth.

The golden arrow of light that shot towards him was no longer a mass of destructive energy, but a complex model composed of countless intricate gears.

As long as we find that crucial fulcrum...

The flow of time slowed down once again in Dago's perception.

He raised his longsword in his left hand at an angle that defied human biomechanics, the tip of the blade precisely touching a rune node on the side of the light arrow.

"bite."

A soft sound, like glass shattering.

The golden arrow of light, which had gathered the power of heaven and earth, collapsed internally in an instant, turning into countless scattered golden light spots.

At the same time, his right-hand longsword, like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, slashed straight at Michael's main body.

The golden force field surrounding Michael, which had once driven countless opponents to despair, was now as fragile as paper under the erosion of the despairing red ice.

The crimson blade easily sliced ​​through the barriers of space, tore through the protective rules, and hurtled straight toward Michael's slender, fragile neck.

The chill of death had already stung her skin.

But just as the blade was about to touch his throat, a glint of data flashed in Dago's crimson vertical pupils.

With a slight turn of the wrist, the trajectory of the long knife suddenly changed, turning into a diagonal cut.

"Sizzle—bang bang bang—"

The ear-piercing friction sound and the crisp sound of runes breaking intertwined to create a desperate symphony.

Brilliant golden sparks bloomed like fireworks, a mournful lament from a top-tier magical artifact.

With light and shadow intertwined, the outcome was already decided.

Dago's figure teleported to the other end of the platform, his back to the enemy, holding a knife in both hands, his blood-red hair hanging down, standing calmly and composed.

Behind him, Michael stood frozen in place.

The golden humanoid phantom behind her, symbolizing glory and power, broke off at the waist, silently sliding down and disintegrating into a shower of light and dust.

Michael's eyes were vacant as he mechanically raised his hand, his fingertips trembling as he tried to touch his neck.

However, his gaze involuntarily drifted downwards, settling on the shocking crack on his chest.

The legendary armor known as the "Life Set" was now neatly sliced ​​open like scrap metal.

The rune paths were severed, the light dimmed, and through the jagged cracks, one could vaguely see pale, trembling skin inside.

"Life Set..."

Michael's lips had lost their color, and his voice was dry, as if he were talking in his sleep: "How is this possible... that's the defense of the rules..."

Noble, elegant, composed... all the pretense of a "favored daughter of heaven" was stripped away completely by this one cut.

As D'Ago said, stripped of her glamorous exterior, she is still a mortal who experiences fear and failure.

However, Dago, the victor, showed no sign of joy.

He looked down at the blood-red twin blades in his hand that were slowly vaporizing, his eyes revealing not the thrill of victory, but a kind of emptiness from the interruption of the pursuit of truth.

"Insufficient resolution... Is it just a simple case of overwhelming power?"

He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps conversing with something in the void.

"Otherwise what? Why would you need to use any profound rules to crush an ant?"

Deep in my mind, that sharp, slippery, and malicious voice buzzed in response.

"This is so boring."

Dago shook his head slightly, a hint of weariness flashing across his face.

The countless cacophony of chants of "Beheilite" and "Frost Despair" surged into his ears once more, attempting to overwhelm his reason.

"Shut up."

Dago snorted coldly, his mental power severing the delirious murmurs like a sharp blade.

"You're too impatient."

He slowly raised his hand, his five fingers spread open.

Surrounding him, the dazzling points of light, like a galaxy, seemed to be summoned by a king, frantically converging towards his palm.

"It's not time yet..."

He murmured softly, his gaze unfocused as he watched the dazzling vortex gradually taking shape in his hand.

That was the ultimate legacy left by the legendary wizard, the born magician Isidore.

When the bloody battle ends, the ownership of this legacy will be a foregone conclusion.

The pure power of the rules from Isidore formed an indestructible barrier, temporarily isolating it from the erosion of Behelight's ancient will.

The light faded, and the mist dissipated.

An exquisite armband, with a glass-like texture and an interior that seemed to contain the entire starry sky, floated quietly in Dago's palm.

On the armlet, countless tiny runes, as fine as dust, are born and die in a cycle, depicting the trajectory of the stars in the universe.

Dago slightly bent his fingers and gently grasped the armband.

"boom!"

The ancient city of fairies trembled violently, as if it had been completely awakened from its slumber.

A deep, noble, and historically weighty purple beam of light erupted from the ground, completely engulfing Dago's body.

Supported by the magnificent glow of the sunset, his figure slowly rose into the air, like a new god ascending to the throne.