Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

"A born evil seed?"

Dago stretched his limbs lazily.

The bones and flesh inside his body, comparable to those of an ancient ferocious beast, rubbed against each other, emitting a series of fine, muffled popping sounds like thunder.

He slowly opened his eyes.

Those eyes were clear and bright, like top-grade sapphires that had been sculpted by the gods countless times, cold and profound.

Deep within those reflected pupils, a destructive storm that seemed yet to subside still lurked.

When his indifferent gaze lightly fell upon the vengeful spirit struggling frantically in the electric cage.

The ferocious evil spirit seemed to have encountered its apex predator, letting out a shrill scream in terror and shrinking back into the far corner of the cage as if electrocuted.

"The technique 'Spiritual Heart Amber' even comes with a passive effect that allows one to see through the essence of the soul."

Dago communicated with Alazan in his mind in a flat tone that only he could hear.

"This is beyond my expectations."

What do you think?

Arahant's ancient voice rang out at the opportune moment, carrying a hint of mentor-like pride.

"The purity or filth of the soul, at the fundamental level, most directly reflects the purity and goodness or evil of a living being."

"Kid, this is just the most insignificant, superficial ability of the Spirit Heart Amber."

"You have only taken your first step in exploring the soul. In the future, you will naturally witness many more incredible miracles."

Dago nodded noncommittally.

His expression remained completely unchanged.

He found this girl, who didn't even bother to ask his name, to barge into his healing space and spout nonsense, utterly ridiculous.

This woman is indeed a born liar.

Her cultivation level was weak, only at the mid-stage of the first level of a formal wizard.

But she had the courage to put on a captivating performance in front of someone like him, who was already halfway to becoming a legend.

Throughout the entire process, she was in tears, yet she didn't reveal a single logical flaw.

If Dargo hadn't already mastered the basics of "The Soul of Amber," he wouldn't be able to see through the beautiful exterior to the rotten, black soul beneath.

Any ordinary wizard with even a modicum of compassion would probably have been completely manipulated by her dramatic and emotionally charged act of self-inflicted suffering.

However, Dargo never falls for that.

His guiding principle has always been simple: identify the problem, and then physically eliminate it.

Under Arajan's rigorous guidance, Dago's understanding of the soul dimension is deepening at an alarming rate.

As for that sudden, instant kill just now?

Dago didn't even bother to think about grand principles like "eliminating demons and protecting the righteous path."

Simply because this woman was too noisy and full of bad intentions, he casually swatted her like a buzzing poisonous mosquito.

Besides, he had already seen through it all.

This girl had long been implanted with some kind of insidious curse spell.

The black curse power had completely devoured her marrow.

Even if Dago doesn't intervene, she will spend the rest of her life in endless torment of festering flesh and wailing soul.

That swift and decisive lightning strike, from a somewhat morbid perspective, could even be considered a merciful "salvation" by Dago.

"If such an evil spirit, imbued with such deep-seated resentment, falls into the hands of a necromancer, it would truly be an excellent material for refining evil spirits."

Dago pinched his chin and examined him carefully, his eyes critical.

"However, I already have a more suitable one, so this thing can only be used as food."

As he spoke, he pulled out the simple, square-cornered cowbell from his spatial ring.

With a slight flick of the wrist, a crisp "clink" sounded.

As a thick, chilling black smoke billowed out, a strange boy with a deathly pale face and blood dripping from his eyes silently emerged from the black mist.

This is Ashiya.

It has always been regarded by Dago as the exclusive arrow blank for his strongest trump card, the Ghost Arrow.

During the fierce battle in the Green Abyss, this brat feasted wildly inside the Ghost Cry Fish King, devouring countless vengeful souls of ancient sea creatures. Its strength should have experienced an epic surge.

Unfortunately, it was later struck head-on by the unreasonable and terrifying sonic waves of the Comb-Bone Conch, and almost lost its soul on the spot.

This back-and-forth has caused its spirit to become even more weak and feeble than before.

This "ultimate evil spirit feast" that fell from the sky is practically a tailor-made tonic.

With a slight thought, Dago caused a tiny crack to instantly appear above the lightning electric grid.

Upon smelling the exquisitely delicious aroma, Aishya let out a piercing, excited scream!

Like a starving ghost reincarnated, it transformed into a bloody shadow and plunged straight in!

There was no close combat, only one-sided crushing.

Ashya opened its blood-red maw, splitting to the roots of its ears, and a vicious dog pounced, biting down hard on the neck of the wicked female spirit, completely engulfing and devouring her.

The following scenes were extremely brutal.

On the empty swamp, only the crisp chewing sounds of Ashiya tearing at the soul remained, along with the most heart-wrenching screams of the wicked female spirit as she was ripped apart alive.

Dago ignored him and completed the task with a cold expression.

His gaze casually swept over the scorched ground, his fingertips flicking slightly.

The old, blood-stained silver ring was drawn up and floated lightly, landing steadily in his large palm.

Dago narrowed his deep blue eyes, carefully examining the object that exuded a rich sense of history.

The ring's overall appearance was extremely shabby.

Its design is extremely haphazard, as if some clumsy craftsman tore off a piece of cheap silver tin foil, wrapped it around his finger twice, and then hastily tied a knot.

That rough silver knot was actually the only thing on the ring that could be called "decoration".

"Alazan, with your vast knowledge, can you see through the true nature of this piece of junk?"

Dago asked in his mind.

With his keen senses, he could faintly perceive the ancient fluctuations hidden within the ring.

This is no ordinary item.

The tragic story that dramatic girl just told, about the ring hiding a huge treasure, might actually be true.

"Pshaw, I thought it was some rare treasure."

Arazan quickly replied, his tone dripping with disdain:

"It's just a very common 'chain ring'. In our glorious era, this kind of cheap stuff was almost everywhere. I wouldn't even bother to bend down and pick it up if it was lying on the street."

Dago was already used to this ancient powerhouse's habit of reminiscing about the glorious past.

He automatically filtered out the condescending sense of superiority in the other person's words and went straight to the point:

"Stop talking nonsense, what exactly are these chain rings for?"

"That's the only key used to unlock the treasure vault of the treasure-hunting goblins."

Arazan explained lazily.

"A treasure-hunting goblin?!"

Upon hearing this, a rare look of surprise finally crossed Dago's perpetually expressionless face.

He subconsciously recalled the desolate goblin plains he had once traversed when he was practicing in the Southern Ring of Dharma.

At that time, Violet, his companion from the Thorn Ring, had boasted to him with great confidence.

It is said that beneath that plain, there were once traces of ancient treasure-hunting goblins, and that an immeasurable and astonishing treasure was definitely buried deep within the mantle.

At the time, Dargo simply took it as a drunken tale told at a street stall.

Who would have thought that, after all this twist of fate, I would actually find a key to the goblin treasure vault today?

"Every adult treasure-hunting goblin will go to great lengths to create its own independent dimensional treasure vault, filled with the stolen goods it has obtained by roaming through various realms through deception and fraud."

Arazan spoke eloquently, displaying his true mentor qualities.

"However, the quality of the goods in the treasure vault depends entirely on the goblin's bloodline rank."

"The chain ring you're holding is crudely made; it's nothing more than trash left behind by a 'Silver Ear Goblin' that's at the bottom of the food chain."

"What good stuff could these lowly silver-eared goblins possibly steal? Maybe a couple of diseased chickens from the farm?"

"Their laughable spatial stealth abilities can't even penetrate the outer perimeter of an adult Bahafus dragon's might!"

In Dago's mind, he could almost vividly picture Arajan's face at that moment—

He would definitely stand with his hands behind his back, shaking his head wildly, looking down at people with disdain.

"Moreover, getting the key is just the beginning."

Arajan continued to pour cold water on the idea, "You'll have to go through a lot of trouble to locate which plane and which rat hole that dead goblin hid the vault door in."

"If you can't find it, you'll have to use rare 'World Stones' to conduct a full-scale forced search."

"To put it bluntly, if you really have a World Stone in your hands, take my advice and use it to open the gates to those lost ancient worlds."

"I still remember the coordinates of several incredibly rich ancient planes. If I were to dig up just one, its treasures would be a million times greater than this low-level goblin vault!"

"...Do we have to find the door ourselves? Is that so troublesome?"

Dago nodded expressionlessly, his disdain evident.

The initial spark of interest in the "treasure hunt" that had just been ignited within me was instantly dampened by these tedious prerequisites.

Without a second thought, he casually tossed the tattered ring into the corner of his ring collection, leaving it to gather dust.

He clapped his hands, intending to turn around and check on how Ashiya's "Evil Spirit Sashimi" was going.

Just then.

Arajan, who had been rambling on and on, suddenly became unusually serious and low-pitched, abruptly changing the subject: "Forget about that junk, I'm actually more interested in the changes in you right now."

"Having been baptized by the storm's thunder and lightning of the Storm Weaver..."

Arazan's voice held an barely suppressed curiosity and apprehension. "How are you feeling now?"