Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

A black dandelion silently drifted down into nothingness.

Dago's consciousness suddenly rose from the deep, dark sea, waking him from his dream.

"Rustle—rustle—"

A series of exquisitely textured sounds, like the rustling of silk satin, accompanied by soft breathing, completely pulled him out of his lingering sleepiness.

His eyelids felt heavy, and he struggled to open them a crack.

The room was dimly lit, with heavy, elaborate dark purple velvet curtains blocking out the harsh sunlight.

In the few rays of light that peeked in, tiny dust particles danced silently in mid-air.

The air was filled with the rich scent of ambergris and the lingering, decadent aroma of pleasure.

Dago braced himself on the bed with both hands and slowly lifted half of his body from the soft bedding.

He looked toward the shadows to his left, following the sound.

A woman was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him.

She bent her graceful waist slightly, slowly slipping a pair of black thigh-high stockings onto her long, slender legs.

The room was deathly silent, with only the faint rustling of clothes.

Dago remained silent, his deep gaze settling quietly on the woman's smooth, bare back.

In the center of that snow-white skin, a purple venomous snake tattoo, coiled and flicking its tongue, was prominently displayed, exuding an eerie and ruthless aura.

The woman seemed to have eyes in the back of her head; after slowly and deliberately putting on the last piece of her underwear, she stopped.

She still didn't turn around, but uttered extremely hoarse murmurs, like sandpaper rubbing together.

"I saw it again."

The woman tilted her head slightly, her voice revealing a barely perceptible fervor and trembling, "In my dream... its enormous body blotted out the sky, tightly binding the entire dying world inch by inch."

"Who is it?"

Dago's eyes flickered slightly, a sense of instinctive vigilance rising in his heart, and he blurted out a question without thinking.

The woman ignored his probing.

She stood up on her own, bent down and picked up the clothes scattered on the ground one by one, and calmly dressed herself.

She was extremely tall and voluptuous.

As those specially made, heavy, purplish-black robes were draped over her shoulders, the languid woman who had been lying on the couch vanished instantly, replaced by a terrifying aura of authority and power over life and death.

Finally, she held up a dark gold crown of thorns with both hands and slowly placed it on her head.

When she turned to face Dago, Dago wisely lowered his eyelids and adopted a submissive posture.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a necklace hanging from her chest—a black snake with its jaws wide open, cruelly devouring an inverted cross.

"Last night...you made me very happy, you must be tired, get some rest in bed."

The woman stepped forward, and with a rough, cold hand, calloused from years of holding a scepter, she gently pinched Dago's chin, her thumb stroking his cheek.

That hoarse voice carried an air of superiority and grace, yet also contained a rare, almost morbid tenderness.

Dago nodded obediently and "docilely".

The woman withdrew her hand, turned, and walked towards the door.

The crisp, heavy sound of metal combat boots echoed in the empty room.

Dago looked up and silently watched her back.

As you reach the end of the room, the heavy bronze doors automatically swung open to both sides with a loud bang.

Outside the door, several fanatical servants clad in heavy armor and wearing hoods quickly approached, surrounding the woman like stars around the moon as she hurried away.

The gate closed again.

In the now empty, luxurious palace, only Dago remained.

"call--"

Dago exhaled a long breath of foul air, tinged with the smell of blood. His brows furrowed slightly as he clearly felt the aches and exhaustion emanating from his young body.

He lifted the blanket and raised his hands to look at the contents in front of him.

This is a youthful body with well-proportioned muscles and full of vitality.

"This time, the feedback from my nerve endings during the 'dream entry' seems to be much more realistic than the last time..."

He casually pulled a large black robe from beside the bed and draped it over himself, then stepped barefoot onto the cold marble floor.

He walked to the window and yanked open the heavy curtains.

"Splash!"

The dazzling golden sunlight poured in like a waterfall, making him squint slightly.

What unfolds before your eyes is a breathtaking scene.

Countless densely packed, towering structures with a strong dark religious style stretch to the horizon like a steel jungle.

On the streets, ant-like crowds were engaged in some kind of fanatical worship.

His current location was clearly at the very center and highest point of this magnificent religious city, allowing him to effortlessly take in the power of life and death over the entire city.

"Deeply immersed in the Church... Pope Sekaterin."

Dago's long fingers tapped unconsciously on the windowsill as he murmured to himself. His brain, like a high-speed precision instrument, rapidly unraveled and digested the original memories of this body.

In this "reincarnation," he became the youngest and least senior priest in a church called "Deep Drowning Church."

The reason is simply that this person was born with an exceptionally handsome appearance, almost otherworldly.

On his very first day in the Papal Palace, he was immediately noticed by the powerful Pope Sekaterin, who stripped him of his priesthood and turned him into her "exclusive male concubine" to serve her in the inner chambers.

Compared to the miserable situation in the previous "life" where he started by sleeping in a stinking pigsty, this time he is at least living in luxury, which is indeed much better.

But... this kind of "goodness" is also extremely limited and fatal.

Pope Sekaterin was, of course, the cold woman whose voice was as sharp as sandpaper who had just left.

Dago carefully pieced together and replayed the other person's appearance in his mind.

A chilling discovery surfaced—if you ignored the deep scar on Sekaterin's face, a result of the brutal purges of her early sectarian days, and stripped away her cold, imposing, and murderous aura…

Her facial features bore a breathtaking and astonishing resemblance to Princess Serena of the Royal Court of Life in the main world!

The only significant difference between the two is perhaps their hair color: Sekagerin's hair is a dark, abyss-like gold, while Serena's is a brilliant, pure gold, symbolizing life and light.

"Could there be such a coincidental mirror image in this world?"

A dangerous glint flashed deep in Dago's eyes.

He turned and walked to a full-length mirror placed beside the bed, coldly scrutinizing his reflection.

He was indeed very young, with handsome features that even carried a hint of evil, yet his brows exuded a unique purity and morbid tranquility.

This striking contrast in allure explains why even the iron-fisted pope made an exception for it.

Dago closed his eyes and once again plunged into the ocean of memories.

He searched every corner of the original owner's knowledge, but still couldn't find any trace of the existence of such a supernatural system as "wizards".

However, as the absolute leader of the Church of the Deep Drowning, Sekagerin, who is known for her iron-fisted methods and ruthless suppression, actually possesses a strange and extraordinary power that transcends ordinary martial arts.

According to the fervent scriptures within the church, it was the supreme divine power personally bestowed by the great god "Deep Drowning".

And "Deep Drowning" is the supreme true God worshipped by this entire theocracy.

Its figurative totem is exactly what Dago saw on the necklace before—a terrifying black snake tightly coiled around and devouring the inverted cross.

In the taboo myths passed down orally in the church, the Deep Drowning is known as the Mother of Evil, and its very existence represents the "chaos and end" of all things.

"In my dream, its enormous body blotted out the sky... tightly binding the entire world..."

Dago's lips moved slightly as he repeated, word by word, the murmur left behind by the woman who looked so much like Serena before she left.

As Sekatelin's closest, even most intimate, bedmate, he often hears her delirious ramblings when she's gripped by some kind of higher-dimensional fear in the dead of night.

Unlike his previous life of pure human struggle, this time the other world he "entered in a dream" was clearly shrouded in a layer of mystery that made Dago extremely excited and curious.

According to the ancient being Arahant, each cycle of reincarnation contained in the supreme inheritance of "Spiritual Amber" has been sculpted and embellished in detail by some supreme law...

But its underlying elements are mostly slices of real history!

No one knows which segment of the long river of history they were taken from, let alone which fragments they were scattered in a higher-dimensional universe.

Of course, someone as rational as Dago would never put the cart before the horse.

Seeking the truth of the world was just a side effect; he never forgot his core strategic purpose in voluntarily "entering the dream."