Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

"It's very simple."

Evaque's tone was both seductive and gentle, "Just place your hand on the statue."

"Bahafus may present you with a test; if you pass it, you will receive the legacy of this ancient shaman."

Let's give it a try.

Dago didn't feel much rejection.

In the wizarding world, power is the absolute truth.

No one could refuse the gift of a legendary dragon's soul, especially since this dragon was a powerful wizard who had explored the deepest mysteries of the universe in his previous life.

Following Evaque's instructions, he slowed his pace and walked slowly to the enormous, breathtaking dragon statue.

Dago reached out and gently placed his palm on the cold base of the stone statue.

That was merely a rough toe of the dragon statue.

"Empty your mind." Evaque's voice drifted from behind.

Dago closed his eyes, and deep within his sea of ​​consciousness, ten polyhedral-like soul crystals began to flicker slightly.

The pure spiritual energy, like invisible tendrils, extended forward little by little, carefully seeping into the ancient stone statue in front of him.

Icy.

nothingness.

The boundless darkness.

At first, I couldn't detect any unusual fluctuations in my senses, as if my spiritual power had fallen into a deadly abyss.

But Dago remained calm, as Evaque had reminded him that patience was the most important thing in this process.

The remnant souls of those ancient shamans, in order to resist the erosion of time, almost all of them fell into the deepest slumber.

Before the will of a great being awakens, all a humble being can do is maintain absolute awe.

Time passed by, second by second.

Gradually, in the pure darkness, a crimson spot of light appeared at the edge of Dago's "vision".

The light spot expanded rapidly at a speed that defied the laws of physics, as if his soul was being violently pulled by some enormous gravitational field and falling at high speed.

"boom--!"

A deafening roar, seemingly from the depths of the eardrums, erupted on a spiritual level.

The original coldness and emptiness were instantly burned away, replaced by a suffocatingly brutal world.

Fiery red, intensely hot. Violent free energy raged and tore through the air.

The scorched earth trembled violently beneath Dago's feet, the dome was covered with a thick layer of volcanic ash, and the pungent smell of high concentrations of sulfur and blood assaulted the very depths of one's soul.

Boiling, dark red magma surged through the cracks in the earth, causing even the surrounding void to distort and groan under the intense heat.

Dago stood alone on the scorched earth, his soul instinctively telling him that he was as insignificant as a speck of dust.

If one is not careful, they will be crushed into dust by the destructive forces that surround them.

He endured the searing pain in his soul, struggled to open his eyes, and gazed ahead into the scorching wind.

Deep within the swirling volcanic ash, he vaguely glimpsed an indescribable, enormous black shadow.

That was the outline of a dragon.

It shares the same origin as the lifeless stone statues in the outside sacrificial plaza, but its size has increased more than tenfold, resembling a mountain range stretching between heaven and earth.

That dragon was not a lifeless, deep black.

Each of its dragon scales shimmered with a molten gold-like luster, and its curved and sharp horns resembled two dark red ancient spears just drawn from a star furnace, proudly piercing the sky.

As it slowly spread its wings, a shadow that blotted out the sky instantly enveloped the entire world.

The most terrifying thing was those eyes.

Fiery and golden-red, it contains not only magma, but also a majestic set of rules that can scorch the soul and see through everything.

Just by looking directly at the enormous dragon shadow through the void, Dago's soul began to tremble violently and uncontrollably.

This is an absolute pressure originating from the suppression of life hierarchies!

The ancient aura emanating from the dragon materialized into a tangible force of gravity, relentlessly pressing down on Dago's spine, attempting to force him to kneel on the ground and worship like an ant.

"Don't even think about it..."

Dago clenched his teeth, his soul crystal operating at overload, emitting a dangerous buzzing sound.

He would never allow his spine to bend; on the path of a wizard's pursuit of knowledge, even in the face of the gods, there should be no servility or subservience.

He struggled to lift his heavy legs, enduring a pressure that seemed capable of crushing his consciousness, and tried to move towards the dragon.

Right at this moment.

A sudden change occurred.

"Sizzle—"

"Shhh—"

A sudden, extremely piercing noise exploded in my ears without warning.

The sound did not belong to any known frequency band; it was like distorted electromagnetic gibberish, or like someone desperately scratching a smooth glass plate with sharp fingernails.

Accompanied by a strange, dull thud and a terrifying, high-pitched scream that could shatter one's reason.

This kind of spiritual pollution that reaches the very depths of his soul is even more unbearable than the evil whispers he had heard when he faced the descent of Hecart's will several times before.

"Ugh—!"

It felt as if a red-hot iron spike had pierced through Dago's brain, and he almost instinctively clutched his head with both hands.

His face was contorted in extreme pain, and he crouched down on the verge of collapse.

"Bah... Bah... Bahavus!"

Amidst the cacophony that could shatter reason, Dago's dazed mind managed to catch a faint, low, slippery whisper.

It was an extremely ancient and evil language, as if some mollusc was wriggling in the mud, constantly calling out the name "Bahafus".

Dago had no idea why his fading consciousness could so accurately decipher the meaning of this unknown language.

On the verge of collapse and fainting, when he should have completely lost consciousness, he miraculously persevered thanks to an immense curiosity and impulse towards the unknown mysteries.

"This is the perfect opportunity."

"A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity..."

The slippery whispers came in fits and starts, like ghosts wandering in the cracks between dimensions, elusive and uncertain.

"Get out of here! You vile maggot—I'm not you!"

Suddenly, a woman's frantic roar rang out, filled with hysterical anger, instantly drowning out the cold, whimpering voice.

"idiot!"

The deep, smooth murmur seemed startled, its tone suddenly turning furious and even revealing a hint of cruel threat.

"You won't regret it."

"Since you're courting death... then I won't be polite."

Don't expect me to give it to you again.

"roar--!"

Just as Dago was struggling to hold on, listening with the inquisitive spirit of a wizard to the conversation between two high-dimensional voices that he had inadvertently captured in his mind, another strange event occurred under the distant crimson sky.

The golden dragon coiled in the volcanic ash suddenly raised its noble head and roared like thunder!

This dragon's roar carried an overwhelming force.

The fiery red world before me shattered in an instant, like a mirage.

Caught off guard, Dago was violently "pulled" away by a terrifying repulsive force that appeared out of nowhere.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

On the empty and quiet stone statue square.

A figure dressed in a black robe with silver trim staggered back several steps.

Dago only managed to steady himself when his heels pressed against the cracks in the stone slabs.

His face was as pale as paper, and he was panting heavily, covered in sweat, greedily swallowing the air of the real world.

"Are you alright?"

A hand reached out from the side, offering a small, faintly glowing green vial.

A hint of instinctive wariness flashed in Dago's eyes. After a moment's hesitation, he took the medicine bottle.

Unscrew the bottle and drink the medicine inside in one gulp.

An intensely pure sense of coolness instantly arose within the depleted body, nourishing the damaged spiritual nodes, and the slight discomfort of a tearing soul receded rapidly like a tide.

"Thanks."

After taking the medicine, Dago felt much better, and reason and calmness regained control of his mind. He sat up and thanked Evaque.

Evaqui shook his head casually, a wry smile playing on his lips, and said, "When I first tried to communicate with the Dragon Witch Chief, I was in a much worse state than you are now."

"Although he has a bad temper, he doesn't actually have any real malice. It's just that... we, as formal wizards, are too weak."

Dago nodded slightly, quickly reviewing what had just happened, and calmly asked, "So, does that mean I failed?"

Did he say anything to you? Or did he give you a golden, scale-like object?

Evaqui stared intently at him.

"no."

Dago answered crisply and decisively.

Shaking his head in denial.

Let alone communicating with the high and mighty Dragon Wizard Bahafus or receiving any "gifts" from him.

In that dream space that was on the verge of collapse, he hadn't even really gotten within a kilometer of the other party.

This result was not particularly unexpected for Dago.

As a rational wizard, he had an extremely accurate understanding of himself: his soul aptitude was not outstanding to begin with.

Moreover, according to Evaque's previous statement, the Dragon Witch Master Bahafus was the most demanding and picky of the twenty-four ancient witch masters.

If such a towering being were to readily acknowledge him, that would be truly strange, and he would suspect there might be a trap involved.

"It seems that it has indeed failed."

A hint of regret flashed in Evaque's eyes as he patted Dago on the shoulder in consolation.

Then, he turned his head and looked around at the other ancient stone statues with a deep gaze, and said, "But it doesn't matter, you can continue to try the other shamans."

"never mind."

Dago shook his head without hesitation, his voice filled with absolute rationality and indifference.

He didn't want to experience that kind of dangerous ordeal, where his soul was ruthlessly oppressed by higher-dimensional forces, again.

The more fundamental reason is that he himself was not very interested in the so-called "spiritual witchcraft" tradition.

The pursuit of power is certainly a wizard's instinct, but wizards also understand the importance of respecting the objective laws of the universe.

The complete decline of the ancient spirit witch lineage is already a cruel and undeniable fact.

No matter how brilliantly this group created in ancient times, or how much world-destroying power they wielded, the cruel gears of history have already declared to the world: the end of sorcery is ultimately just an unsolvable darkness.

That was a dead end, a path that cut off all future possibilities.

Why risk a dead end on a path that inevitably leads to a precipice?