Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots

Chapter 1137: Chapter 470: Word Spirit: Command! (Part 2)

Thus, the three tribes simultaneously began the summoning ritual.

As the ancient spell rang out, three semi-transparent spiritual bodies slowly rose from the altar.

But what shocked everyone was that these three "different" guardian spirits looked exactly the same.

"Uh... this is..."

The three guardian spirits simultaneously let out awkward sounds, then gradually merged into a larger spiritual body:

"Ahem, children, I can explain..."

The merged spiritual body was an old shaman, with decorations that combined the features of the three tribes:

"I am the ancient great shaman ’Wind Walker Dorian’. When I died... uh... my spirit had some issues and I developed a personality split."

"The different personality fragments were worshipped by you as different guardian spirits, which is why you received different instructions."

The situation was extremely awkward for a moment.

The members of the three tribes looked at each other, not knowing how to face this absurd truth.

"Then... can you now give the correct instructions?"

The Sandwalker tribe chief cautiously asked.

"Of course! Now that my personality is whole again, my judgment should be back to normal."

Dorian looked around and then pointed in a new direction:

"The most precious crystal is in the wind cave to the southeast, but be careful, there’s an ancient wind elemental guardian there."

Although the process was somewhat bizarre, this unexpected encounter instead made the indigenous tribes realize the importance of unity.

Under Dorian’s coordination, they quickly formed an alliance:

The Sandwalker tribe provided knowledge of the terrain, the Wind Speaker tribe was responsible for long-range alerts, the Stone Heart tribe took on front-line combat, and the Multi-faced Race played a coordinating role.

This temporary alliance could very well become one of the most formidable variables in the competition.

Although their individual strength was not equal to the elites of other forces, the natives had a deep understanding of the Quicksand Lands.

And the numerical advantage formed by multiple tribes gave them a unique edge in this complex environment.

.........

Ron quickly collected the elemental crystals from the walls.

In his storage bag, he had already accumulated more than twenty colorful crystals and three precious chaos crystals.

According to the point rules, these spoils were enough to put him far ahead in the first stage.

But what truly caught his attention was the strange feeling that arose as he touched these crystals.

Whenever his palm touched the dragon bones inlaid with crystals, the Red Blood Flying Dragon bloodline within him stirred strangely.

It was like an old friend who hadn’t been seen for ages gently greeting him.

"This feeling..."

He stopped collecting crystals, carefully sensing the resonance that came from deep within his bloodline.

It was as if countless voices were quietly whispering in his veins, communicating in a language he had never heard but found inexplicably familiar.

"Child? What’s wrong?"

Savis noticed the unusual expression on Ron’s face:

"You look like... you’ve heard something."

"Senior, in these dragon bones..."

Ron cautiously asked:

"Is there still a remnant of the owner’s consciousness from when they were alive?"

"Of course," Savis nodded affirmatively:

"The life level of dragons is far higher than that of humans, and their souls are extremely resilient.

Even after physical death, consciousness can remain in the bones for a long time."

"However... only those with sufficiently pure dragon blood can hear these ancient whispers."

He turned to Ron, a somewhat perplexed look on his skeletal face:

"And your bloodline purity should not be at that level, right?"

Without answering Savis’s puzzled muttering, Ron began to actively listen to the voices coming from deep within the bones.

Dragon language, this ancient and powerful language, gradually became clearer in his consciousness.

Initially, these voices were as indistinct as ravings in a dream.

But as the resonance deepened, some simple words began to become clear in his consciousness:

"Gorth..." (pain)

This was a syllable filled with sorrow, low and hollow like the wind blowing through voids.

Ron could feel the endless pain contained within it.

It was the wail of a dragon that issued when its bones were forcibly extracted.

"Mor’thak..." (loneliness)

Another word cold as ice, containing a bone-chilling sense of solitude.

It was the last call of a young dragon before its death, unheeded by any of its kin.

"Vel’koth..." (betrayal)

The third word was sharp as a blade, filled with resentment and unwillingness from betrayal.

As his understanding of dragon language deepened, Ron began to hear more layers of information.

Each piece of dragon bone carried fragments of the owner’s memories.

Some were of pleasant recollections of the dragon’s home planet, others of fear and despair during escape, and still others of the hardship of survival in a new world.

These voices intertwined, forming a tragic epic of the dragon race.

"Truly a fascinating ability,"

Savis observed Ron’s transformation, an instinctive curiosity of a researcher in his eyes:

"Humans who can directly converse with dragon souls are few throughout history.

Most have become legendary figures, such as the ’Dragon Friend’ Ashula and the ’Dragon Tamer King’ Zione."

"But child, you must be careful,"

His tone became serious:

"Prolonged exposure to the voices of dragon souls might impact your personality.

The emotions of dragons are extremely intense, and their memories subtly alter the nature of those who come into contact with them."

"These dragon bones carry the deceased’s last obsessions, and the strong emotional imprints haven’t dissipated even after death."

Savis continued to explain: