Wizard: My Skills Can Infinitely Break Through

In the northeast corner of the High Tower, there stood a small, three-story, deep-blue building.

The lights were off in the third-floor room.

Something was seeping out from the cracks of the window.

It was a viscous, dark purple substance, something between a liquid and a gas.

It trickled down the walls, emitting a faint sizzle as it touched the brickwork.

Inside the room.

Grey Falcon—if one could still call him that—was sitting cross-legged on a Meditation Mat in the center of the room.

His gray robes had long since rotted away, and something was moving under his skin.

Strips of it pulsed and bulged, stretching his flesh so thin it became transparent, revealing the dark purple web of veins beneath.

His neck was twisted one hundred and eighty degrees, his face pointed backward, his chin resting on his spine.

His eyes were open, but the eyeballs were gone, replaced by two bottomless, dark purple vortexes.

Deep within the vortexes, tiny fragments of light flickered like shattered stars, or perhaps like the final neural impulses of a dying creature.

His mouth was stretched wide open, the corners of his lips torn all the way to his earlobes.

He made no sound, yet the room was filled with noise.

It emanated not from his throat, but vibrated from the walls, the floor, and the very air itself.

A low, intermittent, overlapping gibberish, like ten thousand people talking in their sleep at once, or the grinding of rusty gears in some ancient machine.

”...Re...turn...”

”...Have...seen...”

The sounds burrowed into one’s ears, feeling like a dull knife churning inside the brain.

In the corners of the room, several pots of ornamental lumina-moss had long since withered, curled into charred husks.

The surfaces of the desk, chair, bookshelf—everything made of wood—were covered in a layer of greasy, dark purple mold.

The mold was still spreading slowly, bulging and sprouting tiny mouths that constantly opened and closed.

”The thing” moved.

Its crossed legs seemed to melt, spreading out into a puddle of viscous, dark purple flesh.

A dozen or so Tentacles extended from the fleshy sludge. Some were as thick as an arm, others as fine as a strand of hair. Their tips split open to reveal needle-like mouthparts.

The Tentacles waved aimlessly in the air. When they touched the ceiling, stone dust rained down, leaving behind corrosive dents.

It ”wanted” to stand up.

The center of the flesh-puddle bulged, pushing up a humanoid silhouette, but it immediately collapsed again.

The boundaries between skin, muscle, and bone had long since blurred.

What now supported this mass was a more primitive, more chaotic Rule: the Abyssal Rule.

It ”remembered” that it was once Grey Falcon; it remembered the hand signs and Spells of Shadow Witchcraft.

One Tentacle rose, its tip twisting into the shape of a hand. Its nails grew long and black as it made a gesture in the air.

The shadows in the room instantly came to life.

The darkness in the corners surged out like ink, coiling around the Tentacle and crawling up its length.

The shadows and the dark purple flesh mixed together, becoming indistinguishable.

Finally, they coalesced on the surface of the Tentacle, forming a flowing, translucent black Shell.

The Shell clicked and clattered, growing sharp edges and barbs.

Another Tentacle slapped the floor.

From the cracks between the floor tiles, a liquid-like substance spread as if alive, covering the ground and forming a constantly rotating vortex of shadow.

More tiny shadow tendrils reached out from the vortex, clawing at the air.

It was using Shadow Witchcraft, but it was completely different.

It was no longer a subtle and treacherous art of assassination, but had become a part of its own body.

An extended organ—brutal, direct, and reeking of decay.

It was ”satisfied.”

All the Tentacles froze at once, then violently pushed outward!

BOOM!

The four walls of the room bulged simultaneously like an overinflated balloon. Plaster peeled and flaked off, revealing a dark purple, fleshy texture beneath.

The window exploded, and a fountain of dark purple slime mixed with shadows gushed out, showering the street below.

A continuous SIZZLE of Erosion filled the air. White smoke rose from the Stone Slab road as it melted into craters.

Immediately after, an indescribable aura shot into the sky.

Cold, viscous, and insane...

Carrying the stench of sulfur and rotting flesh, this aura was like a giant, invisible hand that abruptly seized the entire northeast sector.

All living things—be they Wizards, Apprentices, pet Magic Pets, or Low Level creatures for experiments—froze in place.

Their hearts felt as if they’d been doused in ice water, their blood seemed to flow in reverse, and a BUZZ filled their minds, leaving only the most primal fear.

’Run! Get away from there!’

At almost the exact same second the aura erupted...

VWOOM!!!

At the very top of the High Tower, the massive Eye of the Shadow Moon, which floated and slowly rotated day and night, suddenly erupted with a blinding, silver-white light.

The light coalesced into a thick pillar that shot straight down toward the northeast corner.

Wherever the pillar of light passed, the air let out a sharp crack, like shattering glass.

All Shadow Energy evaporated and was purified in an instant, like boiling water poured on snow.

The High Tower’s ultimate defense system had activated.

This was one of the ultimate Defense Arrays, jointly established by several Level Three Great Witches when the tower was first built.

It was designed specifically to counter large-scale Energy contamination and spiritual Erosion, and was especially sensitive to Abyssal Aura.

Normally as dormant as stone, once triggered, it would strike with the force of a thunderbolt.

The silver-white pillar of light precisely enveloped the small, three-story building.

”ROAR!!!”

An inhuman roar echoed from within the small building.

It was a mixture of pain, rage, and a deeper, more profound hunger.

The dark purple flesh-puddle churned violently within the pillar of light, its surface emitting great plumes of black smoke.

The Shadow Shell shattered inch by inch, only to rapidly regenerate.

Withstanding the light’s Purification, it plunged its dozen or so Tentacles deep into the ground, ripping the entire building’s foundation—along with a dozen meters of the surrounding earth—up from the ground!

Bricks, wood, furniture, and other miscellaneous items, all corroded beyond recognition, were swept up and enveloped by the dark purple flesh.

Like a giant, writhing meteorite, it hurtled viciously toward the nearest Wizard Tower!

”Stop it!”

Several sharp cries rang out from different directions.

The first to arrive was a Level One Liquidation Wizard from the Shadow Faction, who was normally in charge of security in this area.

His face was ashen. He clapped his hands together, and an enormous curtain of shadow instantly unfurled before him.

Runes flowed across the curtain’s surface as it attempted to block the ”meteorite.”

PFFT!

The shadow curtain was pierced like paper.

A dark purple Tentacle shot out from the ”meteorite’s” surface, wrapped around the Wizard’s waist, and squeezed violently!

”Urgh!”

The Protective Spiritual Light around the Liquidation Wizard’s body dimmed instantly, and dark purple markings appeared on his skin where the Tentacle made contact.

He reacted with extreme speed. Forming his right hand into a blade-shape, he compressed his Shadow Energy into a Black Blade and viciously chopped at the Tentacle.

The Black Blade cut into the flesh, but it was like striking glue. The resistance was immense, and it got stuck halfway through.

Not only did the Tentacle not break, it crawled up along the Black Blade, its tiny mouthparts sinking into the skin of his arm and sucking furiously!

”Get off!”

Another arriving Liquidation Wizard from the Flame Element roared, waving his hand to hurl three Blast Flame Fireballs that had been compressed to their limit.

The Fireballs slammed into the ”meteorite’s” surface, exploding in a shower of purple-black slime and firelight.

Three large craters were blasted into the flesh, but tendrils of meat grew wildly from the bottom of the pits, filling them in the blink of an eye.

Instead, the splattered slime landed on nearby buildings, immediately corroding large, sizzling craters into them.

More Wizards arrived.

Herman of the Magic Potion Department stood on a distant rooftop, his expression grave.

After a moment’s thought, he didn’t advance. Instead, he quickly concocted several bottles of high-concentration Purification Potion and threw them to the Wizards fighting on the front lines.

”Pour it on the wounds! Don’t let it spread!”

Kevin, from the Rune System, activated the Triple Protection Rune he carried with him, and layers of Spiritual Light flared to life around his body.

Gritting his teeth, he activated a Palm Thunder Rune. A thick bolt of lightning struck the flesh-puddle, making it convulse.

But it was no use. The thing’s regenerative ability was terrifying.

A severed Tentacle would grow back within three seconds. A blasted crater in its flesh would be fully restored within five.

Shadow attacks were absorbed and converted, while fire and ice could only cause momentary paralysis.

What was more troublesome was that it fought with no discernible strategy.

Driven entirely by instinct, its Tentacles flailed wildly and it sprayed slime everywhere.

This forced the few Liquidation Wizards to scatter and evade, unable to form an encirclement.