Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

At the northeast corner of the tower stands that three-story dark blue building.

The lights were off in the room on the third floor.

Something is seeping out from the cracks in the window.

It was a viscous, dark purple substance, somewhere between a liquid and smoke.

It flows down the wall, making a soft "hissing" sound when it hits the bricks and stones.

in the room.

Grey Falcon, or as you may still call him, sat cross-legged on a meditation mat in the center of the room.

His gray robe was tattered, and something was moving beneath his skin.

The veins stretched and bulged, making the skin and flesh transparent, revealing the dark purple blood vessels underneath.

His neck was twisted 180 degrees, his face was turned backward, and his chin rested on his spine.

Its eyes were open, but there were no eyeballs left, only two bottomless dark purple vortexes.

Deep within the vortex, tiny fragments of light flickered, like shattered stars or the last nerve impulses of a dying creature.

His mouth was wide open, the corners of his mouth stretching all the way to his ears.

There was no sound, but the room was filled with noise.

It didn't come from the throat; it came from the walls, the floor, and the air itself.

The low, intermittent, overlapping murmurs sounded like ten thousand people talking in their sleep at the same time, or like the friction of rusty gears in some ancient machine.

"……return……"

"...I...saw...it..."

The sound drilled into my ears, and my brain felt like it was being churned by a dull knife.

In the corner of the room, several pots of ornamental luminous moss had long since withered and died, curled up into a clump of charred remains.

The surfaces of desks, chairs, bookshelves, and all wooden items were covered with a layer of greasy, dark purple mold.

The mold was still slowly spreading, rising up, and growing tiny, constantly opening and closing mouths.

"That thing" moved.

Its legs, which had been crossed, spread out as if melting, turning into a pool of sticky, dark purple flesh.

More than a dozen tentacles emerged from the minced meat, some as thick as an arm, others as thin as a hair, their tips split open to reveal needle-like mouthparts.

The tentacles waved unconsciously in the air, and when they hit the ceiling, stone dust fell down in a flurry, leaving corroded dents.

It "wanted" to stand up.

The center of the minced meat bulged out, forming a human-shaped outline, but then immediately collapsed.

The boundaries between skin, muscles, and bones have long been blurred.

What supports this thing now is some kind of more primal, more chaotic rule: the rules of the abyss.

It "remembers" that it was once a gray falcon, and remembers the gestures and incantations of shadow magic.

One of its tentacles rose up, its end twisting into the shape of a hand, its nails growing long and black, tracing lines in the air.

The shadows in the room immediately came to life.

The dark corner of the wall gushed out like ink, wrapped around tentacles, and climbed up along the veins.

The shadows and dark purple flesh mingled together, indistinguishable from each other.

Finally, a layer of flowing, translucent black carapace condenses on the surface of the tentacles.

The carapace clicked and grew sharp edges and barbs.

Another tentacle slammed to the ground.

Liquid spread like a living thing through the grout lines of the floor tiles, covering the ground and forming a constantly rotating vortex of shadow.

More tiny, shadowy tentacles emerged from the vortex, scratching and clawing in the air.

It employed shadow magic, but in a completely different way.

It is no longer a secretive and elusive art of assassination, but has become an integral part of its body.

It became an extended organ, brutal, direct, and reeking of decay.

It was "satisfied".

All the tentacles stopped at the same time, and then suddenly pushed outwards!

boom!

The walls of the room bulged up simultaneously, like inflated balloons, and the plaster peeled off, revealing the dark purple flesh underneath.

The window shattered, and dark purple slime mixed with shadows gushed out like a fountain, splashing onto the street below.

The hissing sound of corrosion blended together, white smoke rose from the stone pavement, and pits were melted out.

Immediately afterwards, an indescribable aura surged into the sky.

Cold, sticky, crazy...

Carrying the stench of sulfur and rotting flesh, this odor, like an invisible hand, suddenly gripped the entire northeastern corner of the area.

All living things, whether wizards, apprentices, pets, or low-level creatures used in experiments, froze in place.

My heart felt like it had been doused with ice water, my blood was flowing backward, my mind went blank, and all that remained was the most primal fear.

Run! Get away from there!

Almost at the same second that the aura exploded.

hum! ! !

At the top of the tower, the enormous Shadow Moon Eye, which floats day and night and slowly rotates, suddenly shone with a dazzling silver-white light.

The light condensed into a thick pillar of light, which shot straight toward the northeast corner.

Wherever the beam of light passed, the air emitted a crisp sound like shattering glass.

All shadow energy was instantly evaporated and purified, like snow being poured over boiling water.

The tower's highest defense system has been activated.

This is one of the ultimate defensive arrays set up by several level-three archmages when the tower was first built.

It is specifically designed to target large-scale energy pollution and spiritual erosion, and is especially sensitive to the abyssal aura.

Normally as still as a stone, but once triggered, it unleashes a thunderous force.

The silvery-white beam of light precisely enveloped the three-story building.

"roar!!!"

A roar that sounded inhuman came from inside the small building.

It was a mixture of pain, anger, and a deeper kind of hunger.

The dark purple flesh churned violently within the beam of light, with large plumes of black smoke rising from its surface.

The shadow carapace shattered inch by inch, only to regenerate rapidly.

Bathed in the purifying light, it thrust its dozen or so tentacles into the ground, tearing up the entire foundation of the small building, along with the surrounding ground within a radius of several meters!

Bricks, stones, wood, furniture, and other miscellaneous items corroded beyond recognition were all encased in dark purple flesh.

Like a giant, writhing meteorite, it crashed down on the nearest wizard tower!

"Stop it!"

Several sharp shouts rang out from different directions.

The first to arrive was a level one liquefaction wizard from the Shadow faction, who was usually in charge of maintaining order in this area.

His face turned ashen, and he clasped his hands together, instantly creating a huge curtain of shadow in front of him.

Runes flowed across the curtain, attempting to block the "meteorite".

puff!

The curtain of shadow was pierced like paper.

Dark purple tentacles burst forth from the surface of the "meteorite," wrapped around the wizard's waist, and tightened sharply!

"Ugh!"

The protective aura around the liquefied wizard's body dimmed instantly, and dark purple patterns immediately appeared where his skin touched his whiskers.

He reacted extremely quickly, his right hand forming a knife-like shape with his fingers together. The shadow energy was highly compressed, transforming into a jet-black blade, which he slashed fiercely at the tentacles.

The black blade sliced ​​into the minced meat, but it was like cutting into glue; the resistance was enormous, and it got stuck after only cutting in halfway.

The tentacles didn't break off; instead, they climbed up the black blade, their tiny mouthparts piercing his arm skin and sucking frantically!

"Get out of here!"

Another fire-type liquefaction wizard who arrived roared and swung his hand to unleash three compressed, explosive fireballs.

The fireball struck the surface of the "meteorite," exploding into a shower of purplish-black slime and flames.

The minced meat was blasted into three large craters, but the fleshy growth at the bottom of the craters grew wildly and filled them in the blink of an eye.

Instead, the splattered slime splashed onto the surrounding buildings, immediately corroding large pits and making a sizzling sound.

More wizards arrived.

Herman, a potion master, stood on a distant rooftop with a solemn expression.

He thought for a moment but didn't go forward. Instead, he quickly prepared several bottles of highly concentrated purification potion and threw them to the wizards fighting ahead.

"Sprinkle it on the wound! Don't let it spread!"

Kevin, a rune user, activated the triple protective runes he carried with him, and beams of light shone from his body.

He gritted his teeth and activated a palm lightning rune, a thick bolt of lightning striking the fleshy pulp, causing it to twitch.

But it didn't work.

That thing's regenerative ability is terrifying.

Cut off the tentacles, and new stubble will grow back within three seconds; blast open a crater of flesh, and it will recover completely within five seconds.

Shadow attacks are absorbed and transformed by it, while fire and frost can only cause brief stun.

What's more troublesome is that it fights without any strategy or method.

Driven entirely by instinct, its whiskers flailing wildly and its slime spraying everywhere.

This forced the liquefaction wizards to scatter and dodge, preventing them from forming a pincer movement.