Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

Pushing aside the damp ferns, a man and a woman came into view.

The man was physically robust, his muscles bulging slightly under his leather armor. He carried a two-handed greatsword on his back, and beneath his blond hair was a handsome and alert face.

The woman had an ordinary appearance, with faint lines of age visible at the corners of her eyes. She looked to be in her thirties, but she deliberately wore a beautiful, tight-fitting sky-blue robe and an exaggerated wizard's hat that took up almost half of her body, forcibly creating a charming look that was incongruous with her age.

Of the two, the woman's mental energy fluctuations were close to the late stage of the second ring, and her strength far surpassed that of the man; however, the moment he discovered that the stranger Dago had left the forest, the swordsman, who had no mental energy fluctuations, instinctively stepped forward, gripped the hilt of his sword, and tightly protected the witch woman behind him.

Dago's eyes were indifferent, his gaze lingering on the two for only half a second before he continued walking forward, stepping on the fallen leaves.

I hadn't gone far when I heard a series of light, hurried footsteps behind me.

The woman in the blue robe ran up, panting, and opened her arms to block Dago's way.

She lowered her posture slightly, her face full of apology: "I'm sorry, sir, Lawrence is a knight, not one of us. He doesn't know many of the rules. My guardedness just now was absolutely not meant to disrespect you."

Dago nodded slightly, indicating that he didn't care.

Seeing this, the woman did not move aside, but instead stepped forward, bowing repeatedly in apology.

The neckline of her robe was extremely low, and with each bend, large swaths of white skin and deep cleavage on her chest would "inadvertently" enter Dargo's field of vision.

Dargo frowned slightly, and smelled a cloyingly sweet scent of cheap perfume in his nostrils.

Without saying a word, he walked past the woman and left.

A few breaths later, a suppressed argument could be faintly heard from behind.

"It was you who insisted on coming with me!"

The woman's furious, shrill voice ripped through the silence of the forest.

"Damn it! If you want to die, don't drag me down with you. That person is dangerous!"

The man's voice was filled with anger and resentment at being ignored.

The bushes receded beside me, completely shutting out the noise, and the surroundings became quiet again.

There are more competitors in this forest than expected.

Along the way, Dago sensed several subtle fluctuations in mental energy. Apart from one third-ring wizard, the rest were basically at the mid-to-late second-ring level.

Everyone was like a frightened bird; the moment they sensed Dago, they quickly withdrew and fled.

The hidden path leading to the gatekeeper of Lingjing Lake is clearly not the only one underfoot.

Walking and stopping on the soft humus soil, it took about two hourglass marks.

Dago's outstretched mental tendrils paused slightly—in a recessed valley ahead, a dozen or so wizards' mental energy fields were densely intertwined.

As expected, we arrived at our destination.

Stepping into the secluded valley, following the path covered with sticky moss-covered rocks, a flat area hidden by ancient tree canopies suddenly opens up.

A giant banyan tree, which has lived for countless centuries, occupies half of the site.

It collapsed in a strange, semi-bent posture, its roots piercing into the rock layer like writhing dragons, and its dense branches and leaves layered like a giant umbrella, shattering the sunlight into faint spots that fell to the ground.

A dozen or so hooded wizards stood scattered in the shade of the tree canopy.

A deep, thunderous roar echoed in the air—it was snoring.

The sound of Dago's footsteps breaking the dry branches made several people turn around, and the crowd tacitly made way for each other.

Dago calmly stepped into the center and then saw the source of the deafening snoring: on the thick trunk of the banyan tree, pieces of black, protruding bark twisted and coalesced to form a giant, ancient face covered with furrows.

The giant face had its eyes tightly closed, and its wooden lips were opening and closing, indicating that it was fast asleep.

You could hear a pin drop inside.

Even those few self-important third-ring wizards were now obediently staring at the treant's sleeping face, as if adhering to some ancient tacit understanding.

Several more waves of trainees arrived one after another.

The couple who had been there earlier also entered the open space.

The two seemed to have reconciled, with the blue-robed witch clinging to the handsome swordsman's arm like a piece of chewing gum.

Catching Dago's gaze, the young swordsman's expression tightened, and he instinctively hugged the woman in his arms even tighter.

The witch, however, took the opportunity to twist her shoulder, subtly freeing herself by half an inch, and threw a fawning wink at Dago over the swordsman's shoulder.

"Twenty people, all spots are filled."

A dry, hoarse voice suddenly rang out from the crowd.

The one who spoke was a gaunt, gray-robed, third-ringed wizard. He looked around and said, "Now, we can awaken the gatekeeper."

A few ambiguous snorts came from the surrounding area, which could be considered as tacit agreement.

The gray-robed wizard glanced at Dago, and seeing that no one objected, he straightened his robes and took two steps forward to stand directly beneath the banyan tree's aged face.

He clasped his hands together over his chest, bowed deeply, and called out in an extremely respectful tone, "Lord Tataka... Lord Tataka..."

His shouts were like mosquitoes caught in a gust of wind, instantly torn apart by thunderous snoring.

This monotonous process lasted a full five minutes. The gray-robed wizard licked his chapped lips, his voice already somewhat hoarse, before the valley-shaking snoring reluctantly slowed down.

"Splash—"

Amidst a violent rustling of branches and leaves, the banyan tree face stirred, opening its cloudy, yellowish-brown eyes. The bark rubbed together, uttering a muffled murmur: "How long have I been asleep? You little insects have already gathered twenty of you?"

"Yes, Lord Tataka, the twenty trial participants are in position."

The grey-robed wizard lowered his head even further.

The gatekeeper named Tataka snorted and a thick vine drooped down from above, rubbing away the dried resin that had congealed at the corner of his eye like a human rubbing his hand.

Its eyes were half-closed, and its extremely oppressive gaze, like a cold snake, slithered over everyone in the room.

Finally, the enormous pupil locked onto the edge of the group.

Tataka's cold voice shook the leaves: "You are worthless! A mortal body that has not even condensed a spiritual space and has no wizarding talent, standing here will only pollute the air that Lord Tataka breathes."

With a whoosh, dozens of cold, mocking eyes on the open ground instantly focused on the swordsman accompanying the blue-robed witch.

The moment she was called out, a flash of terror crossed the blue-robed witch's eyes.

Without the slightest hesitation, she abruptly pulled her arm away as if avoiding a plague, her toes barely touching the ground as she took three large steps back, creating a gap of unfamiliarity between herself and the swordsman.

The swordsman, who had been banished, stood frozen in place, his handsome face instantly turning purplish-red.

He turned to the blue-robed witch for help, only to see her turn her head away, her face full of disgust.

The swordsman gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. In the end, he could only grit his teeth and turn away in a sorry state amidst the jeers of the crowd, retreating into the dense forest.

After getting rid of this "filler" of useless talent, Tataka recounted the heads, then, satisfied, shook his massive tree trunk and slowly began to speak:

"Very well, now you can come forward one by one and show your 'sincerity'. I will judge who among you insects is qualified to step into the muddy ground of Spirit Mirror Lake."

Dago stood in the back row, his eyebrows twitching almost imperceptibly, still pondering the underlying meaning of the word "sincerity."

The gray-robed wizard who spoke first couldn't wait to step forward.

With a fawning expression, he held up a silver ring that shimmered with faint spatial fluctuations: "My lord, this is from a ruin..."

"Next."

Tataka glanced down for only half a second before impatiently interrupting him.

The gray-robed wizard's smile froze instantly, and he desperately tried to argue, "My lord, this contains..."

"Whoosh!"

Several thick, thorny vines lashed down from mid-air like poisonous whips, striking the gray-robed wizard precisely in the soil an inch in front of his toes, sending up a spray of gravel and forcing him back to the edge.

"Ha, you dare to try and fool Lord Tataka with a spatial ring, a mere inanimate object?"

A cold laugh rang out, and another red-haired wizard, whose strength had reached the third ring, strode forward.

He magically produced an exquisite wicker basket from his sleeve, containing several bright red fruits that emitted a strange and rich aroma.

The moment the aroma wafted out, Tataka's wooden nostrils widened suddenly, and his cloudy eyes flashed with a greedy light.

"Good! Good! It's Tataka's favorite Flaming Vermilion Fruit!"

It impatiently rolled up its vine arms, grabbed the basket, and dumped it directly into its abyss-like mouth.

"Snap! Smack—"

A tooth-grinding chewing sound rang out, and thick, red juice splattered everywhere along the wood grain.

Tataka mumbled indistinctly, "It tastes good. You've passed. Go stand on the right and wait for me to open the door."

The red-haired, three-ringed wizard who was offering the fruit straightened his collar smugly and walked to the right.

Clearly, he was a clever man who had done his intelligence work thoroughly.

Immediately afterwards, a third wizard stepped forward, looking extremely nervous.