Wizard: Starting from the Skill Tree

That was a valley, not large, surrounded by mountains on three sides, with only a narrow passage leading to the outside world.

In the center of the valley, there was nothing, just bare gravel and sparse weeds.

But that wave of vibrations came from right below the valley.

Duke lay on the hill, not moving.

His intuition told him this was not something ordinary.

The first day passed, and the vibrations did not change. On the morning of the second day, the vibrations began to intensify.

By noon, the entire valley was trembling slightly.

Gravel fell from the mountainside, cracks in the ground expanded, and the weeds in the center of the valley began to wither, as if something was drawing life force from underground.

Duke’s spiritual power was constantly locked in that direction. He could feel that the wave of vibrations was rapidly rising, like a giant beast that had been asleep for billions of years awakening.

By dusk, the ground began to tremble violently.

It was not an earthquake, but something deeper.

The ground at the center of the valley began to rise, first cracking into deep, bottomless crevices, then the entire ground was pushed up from below, with gravel and dirt collapsing to the sides, revealing the gray-white stone wall beneath.

There were carvings, patterns, and inscriptions on that stone wall.

This was not naturally formed rock, but building materials polished by human hands.

The stone wall continued to rise, getting higher and wider, filling the entire valley with it.

When the last ray of the sunset disappeared beneath the horizon, the structure finally emerged completely from the ground.

Moonlight shone on the gray-white stone wall, illuminating the few lines of ancient inscriptions above the main entrance.

Those words were neither a common language nor any language Duke had seen before. They twisted and coiled like vines, and wove like streams.

The text glowed faintly in the moonlight, as if they were alive.

This seemed to be a gigantic crypt, but the crypt’s door was not open.

The two massive stone gates opened inward, and behind the gates was a deep passage. On both sides of the passage, walls were embedded with glowing crystal stones, with their light stretching to the edge of sight.

Yet when the first eager person rushed to the door, wanting to dash inside, a semi-transparent barrier emerged from the doorframe, flinging him backward.

The person tumbled down the stone steps, rolling several times, then clumsily got up and tried again.

The barrier remained unyielding.

The crypt had not fully opened yet.

The news spread throughout the Broken Land like the wind.

In the following days, people continuously came from all directions.

Some traveled alone, others in groups, some dirty, clearly worn from the journey.

There were also those who were calm and composed, evidently well-prepared.

The edge of the valley gradually became lively, the various magic robes standing out against the gray-white rocks.

Duke found a concealed crevice on the back of the hill, where he could recover his state while observing people arriving continuously.

On the third day, he saw Leon coming from the east. His armor had a few new scratches, but his spirit was good, and his steps were steady.

Behind him was a witch Duke did not recognize, wearing the magic robe of White Cliff Academy, her aura was not strong but very stable.

The two found a high spot on the edge of the valley, where Leon glanced around as if looking for someone.

On the evening of the fourth day, Vera arrived.

She emerged from the southern forest, still in her white magic robe, still with that cool face.

Her aura was more restrained than before, her steps so light it seemed she was walking on clouds.

Following her were two people, one was Ely, who looked much better than a month ago, though there was still a trace of lingering anxiety in her eyes.

The other was a young wizard Duke could not place, wearing a magic robe from the Tower of Ashes, his aura weak, as if Vera had saved him by chance.

Vera stopped at the edge of the valley, her gaze swept the surroundings, then she walked straight toward the hill where Duke and the others were.

Duke, Leon, and other West Coast people were grouped together for warmth, just as most others instinctively gathered with familiar faces, maintaining constant vigilance against outsiders.

"What’s inside?" Vera asked.

Duke shook his head, "It’s not open yet. We have to wait."

"How long do we have to wait?"

"I don’t know."

Leon interjected, "I heard some news, they say it will officially open in five days, deciphered by someone from those inscriptions."

Duke glanced at him. Leon shrugged, "Not me, it was people from the Star Tower. They have someone specializing in ancient inscriptions, spent three days deciphering the inscriptions on the door."

"What do the inscriptions say?"

"It roughly means—’The Sleeper shall awaken, the Gateway of Trials shall open. Those who enter take their own risk; those who succeed shall inherit the legacy.’ " Leon paused, "There’s another sentence, not fully deciphered, likely related to the secret inside."

On the morning of the fifth day, something finally changed with the crypt.

The barrier over the main entrance began to thin, like ice melting under sunlight, turning from translucent to transparent, eventually dissipating into countless light spots in the air.

The passageway behind the door was now completely open.

At the edge of the valley, everyone stood up simultaneously.

Duke glimpsed the surrounding crowd.

The people from the Golden Continent were the most numerous, numbering twenty to thirty from the Blood Rose and Star Tower combined, with Audric standing at the forefront, his dark red robe gently swaying in the morning breeze.

Behind him were several wizards Duke did not recognize, none of them weak in aura.

There were also quite a few people from the East Coast Seville Empire, around ten, standing in a neat row, expressionless.

The students from the Central Islands were scattered everywhere, in groups of three or two, without a fixed formation.

West Coast had the fewest people, adding Duke’s group, they totaled fewer than ten.

Audric turned around, his gaze crossing the crowd to fall on Duke, seemingly checking whether Duke would also enter this crypt.

The crowd began to shift, some people ran, some walked, some hesitated, some pushed forward to the open stone door.

Duke did not rush, and neither did Vera.

They stood on the hillside, watching as silhouettes disappeared one by one into the darkness of the passage.

"Watch yourself," Vera observed for a while and then said, "See you inside."

She turned and walked toward the crypt.

Leon patted Duke on the shoulder and followed suit.

Ely and the wizard from the Tower of Ashes exchanged a glance, then jogged to catch up.

Duke looked at the valley for the last time, ensuring no one else was hiding in the shadows, before striding toward the stone door.

The passage was long, with the soft light of crystal stones illuminating the gray-white stone walls, making the ancient carvings stand out clearly.

Duke slowed his pace, his spiritual power probing forward.

There were more than a dozen people ahead, all walking briskly inside, the sound of footsteps echoing in the passage, mixed with occasional whispers and panting.

As he reached the middle of the passage, the stone slab underfoot suddenly glowed faintly.

It wasn’t the light from the crystal stones but some ancient rune being triggered.

The light grew brighter, completely engulfing his silhouette.

The world twisted and turned.

When Duke could see his surroundings again, he was already standing in an empty hall.

The hall was vast, with a ceiling so high it was almost invisible. The walls were embedded with extinguished sconces.

The design of the sconces was ancient, not the usual style of the Wizard Plane, but something more rugged, more primitive.

Duke raised his hand, a small flame gathering at his fingertip, and moved closer to the nearest sconce.

The lamp wick ignited at the touch of the flame with a sudden brilliance, not ordinary firelight but a kind of ghostly blue cold flame, illuminating the surrounding stone walls vividly.

He lit all the sconces in the hall one by one.

Six in total, symmetrically placed on the two sides.

When the last lamp illuminated, the full view of the hall was revealed.

It was a cross-shaped space, with him standing at the center, with passages leading in all directions.

The passageways were deep, their ends unseen, allowing only a vague sensation of winds blowing from different directions, carrying different scents.

The left passage had a scent of water, the right one of metallic rust, the front one a scent of decaying wood, and the rear one nothing at all.

Duke closed his eyes, his spiritual power probing all four passages simultaneously.

He opened his eyes, not hesitating long, before choosing a path.

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