Wizard: Start with Biological Transformation to Grind Experience

Chapter 793: Chapter 9: Aberrant Spiritual Power

Leonard looked at Erodion, whose form was twisted and connected to countless conduits of faith on the stone chair. His gaze darkened slightly, a flicker of indescribable complexity flashing through his eyes. But more so, a profound and familiar resignation settled in.

Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, he followed the rituals of the order, bowing and greeting, "Teacher."

Erodion’s voice, as if filled with countless noises, echoed in the cavern: "How are things going with the Wizard Family?"

Leonard gathered his thoughts and reported respectfully, "Relying on the power you bestowed, Father God, the remaining forces in the Ancient Forest have been mostly eradicated, and Starshine Castle has also fallen. Although a small number of remnants have hidden in unknown corners like rats, they can no longer pose an effective resistance. Our domination over the Ancient Ruins is essentially unobstructed."

"Well done." Erodion’s voice carried a slight hum of satisfaction.

Leonard paused for a moment, his tone then becoming noticeably worried as he continued, "But... our spies have returned with clear information that Jade Land is actively preparing for military intervention."

"Several surveillance towers along the border have also confirmed that their vanguard forces are gathering near the border. Also, on the side of the Gray Tower Witch Realm and the Thousand Sails Witch Realm, there have recently been varying degrees of unusual military maneuvers, their movements... also seem to point towards us."

Erodion let out a low, hoarse chuckle, filled with disdain and ridicule: "Ha... it seems the hyenas have smelled blood and have all gathered around, all wanting a bite of this seemingly delicious piece of meat."

His twisted body on the stone chair moved slightly, causing those conduit-like "blood vessels" to squirm, yet his tone carried a nearly arrogant confidence: "No matter, let them come."

"In the face of absolute power, no matter how many clowns come along, they are merely struggling in vain, only delivering more nourishment and the glory of victory to us."

The worry on Leonard’s face did not dissipate due to these words; instead, it deepened a bit. He couldn’t help but further remind, "But... Teacher, about the Supreme Council... Our blatant disregard for the rules, they likely won’t stand by. If they intervene..."

"The Supreme Council?" Erodion laughed again, interrupting him, a fierce gleam flashing in those frenzied eyes, "As long as those four old undying ones don’t personally descend, who in this world can touch me now?"

He paused, the dark red patterns surrounding him seemed to brighten slightly with his emotional fluctuation. His eyes turned more manic and fiery, his voice suddenly rising, carrying a tone almost prophetic:

"And..."

"Once the Ascension Ceremony is entirely complete, I will transcend the bounds of the mundane, becoming a true Divine! By then..."

His low, ambitious words echoed through the dark cavern:

"I will fear no one! Even if those four old fellows come themselves, I could stand equally with them! This world will reorganize according to my will!"

.....

In the depths of the Dark Forest, at the original site of the Shadow Tower.

Lynch stood alone amidst a mess of rubble and debris, silently gazing at this land, now completely reduced to ruin.

The magnificent tower of obsidian that once rose into the clouds, shrouded all year round in shadow and magical aura, was now nowhere to be found.

The view before him contained only broken wall foundations, charred giant stones, and countless shattered bricks and stones, vaguely bearing rune marks, scattered among the weeds and moss, silently telling of past tragedies.

Although he had heard from various sources of the Shadow Tower’s downfall, witnessing firsthand this land, a carrier of his earliest memories, now so desolate and ruined, Lynch couldn’t help but become dazed for a while, sighing in his heart.

This was, after all, the first place he called a "base" upon entering this enigmatic Wizard World. Here, step by step, he’d grown from a complete outsider ignorant of magic into an official wizard, experienced his initial crises, met his first companions, and witnessed the brutal and marvelous Wizard World.

The Shadow Tower was once a force of immense power and prestige, casting a giant shadow that ruled over this vast region. Be it monarchs of mortal realms or scattered wizards, none could resist its powerful might and profound heritage.

However, in the blink of an eye, what was once a behemoth had now turned into such devastation.

"Heh..." Lynch softly sighed, murmuring to himself, "I suppose it shows how unpredictable life can be."

He stepped forward, slowly traversing the ruins, guided by memory, to a relatively open area. Here was the site of the once bustling Fairy Tavern, filled with the scent of ale and various rumors.

Now, only an uneven foundation and some scorch marks remained.

Lynch halted, a flicker of reminiscence in his eyes. He lifted his hand, casually snapping his fingers.

"Snap!"

With that crisp sound, a wondrous sight unfolded. The surrounding space seemed to ripple invisibly, segments of blurry, dimly luminous "time fragments" appeared to be cut out from the river of history by an unseen hand, swiftly weaving and consolidating before him.

Wooden structures appeared out of thin air, solidifying, an old bar, tables set with roughly hewn wooden mugs, and the emblematic, oddly-shaped magical wall lamp on the wall... Everything was "restored" at a visible speed, as if a faded painting was being recolored vividly.

In just a few breaths, the Fairy Tavern from his memory reappeared, intact and quietly standing amidst the ruins, creating a stark and eerie contrast with the surrounding desolation.

Now, his mastery of the Time Law had reached unprecedented heights.

With a sliver of true Rule Power from the Time Hut, as long as he could sustain it with his own level of power, and had personally experienced or clearly perceived the past scenarios, he could "silhouette" past fragments from flowing time, like a master tailor cutting out patterns from cloth, manifesting them briefly and realistically in the present.

Lynch pushed open the familiar, slightly weathered wooden door and stepped into the time-frozen, uninhabited tavern.

The familiar layout, the air still seemingly retaining the scent of ale and tobacco; even the old engravings on certain tables and chairs remained unchanged.

He scanned this silent scene, quiet enough to hear a pin drop, and the deep gray eyes involuntarily held a deep, complex nostalgia. The bustle and vitality of the past seemed as if they were just yesterday.

Once his heart had settled from the lamentation of changing times, Lynch casually moved to a reasonably intact wooden table, pulling over a chair to sit down.

He set aside the nostalgia, his gaze turning sharp and focused once more. He extended his hand, palm up, and from thin air, a strand of chestnut hair, carrying Lanice’s unique Spiritual Field, appeared, lying quietly in his hand.

Lynch stared at the strand of hair, his gray eyes narrowing slightly, his brow unconsciously furrowing gently.

"Let me see, just what this unusual spiritual power... is all about."