Wizard: Starting from the Skill Tree

The Duke followed that faint thread, passing through the corridor and heading towards the southwestern corner of the courtyard.

The columns twisted into bizarre streamlines in the shadow space, gray-white dust covering every inch of the ground, silent under the boots.

The thread grew tighter and tighter, like a prey sensing the approach of a hunter.

The Duke stopped before a column, elongated and deformed, covered with gray-white dust, with fine cracks in the dust like the face of a dried old man.

Behind the column, something was moving.

Very light, very slow, as if deliberately suppressing its own breath.

But that suppression was as clear to the Duke’s senses as a torch in the night.

"Come out." The Duke’s voice was soft, but in the dead silent shadow space, each word fell like a stone into a deep pool, sending invisible ripples.

The movement behind the column stopped.

Then, the space ahead began to ripple as if stones had been thrown into a water surface.

These ripples did not spread outward from the center but contracted inward from the outside, like something squeezing out from the folds of space.

Shadow energy frantically danced at the edges of the ripples, emitting a soft hissing sound like tearing cloth.

A figure emerged from the ripples, short in stature, two heads shorter than the Duke, wrapped in a dark gray robe with the hood pulled low, obscuring most of the face, revealing only a bloodless pale chin.

His steps were light, leaving no trace on the gray-white dust.

The hem of the robe dragged on the ground, not raising a speck of dust.

The person hovered, not walking but floating.

He stopped ten steps away from the Duke, faintly visible under the hood were two dark eyes, like stars obscured by frosted glass.

"The Child of Light, indeed the Child of Light." His voice was hoarse, like dry leaves caught in the wind, or stones rubbing against sandpaper, "Able to sense my position in shadow space, able to lock onto my direction before I strike, you are stronger than I imagined."

The Duke looked at him without speaking, expression extremely calm.

The corners of the mouth under the hood slightly lifted: "Are you not afraid? Normally, people dragged into shadow space would be panicked. Those Light Sect folks might not even cast a single spell here. You can remain so calm, truly deserving to be their chosen Child of Light."

"Shadow Council?" The Duke asked.

The person under the hood laughed, the laughter hoarse, deep, carrying an indescribable meaning.

"Of course." He raised his hand, pushing back the hood, revealing an old, gaunt face.

Deep-set eyes, high cheekbones, skin like dried orange peel tightly clinging to bones.

The eyes were dark and profound, like two bottomless ancient wells.

"Shadow Council, High Priest, you may call me Lord of Shadow, or — Julius."

The Duke looked at this self-proclaimed Julius, without surprise or tension.

He had long guessed that the one who could drag him into shadow space could only be someone from the Shadow Council in the Oracle Plane.

And the only one daring to act against him would be the decaying Great Mage of the Shadow Council.

"The Four Gods Sect lost, Stone Hammer City fell, they didn’t dare act, so they sent you?" The Duke’s tone was flat, as though asking about the weather.

Julius shook his head.

"The Four Gods Sect is not subordinate to the Shadow Council, their loss means nothing to me." He paused, "I am here because of you. The Child of Light, the hope of the Light Sect, to kill you in the cradle is what our Shadow Council must do."

"In the cradle?" The Duke repeated the phrase, savoring it.

"A baby in the cradle needs protection, needs nourishment, needs careful care. I — do you think I am that baby needing care?"

The Duke took a step forward.

The oppressive force radiating from his bones made Julius’s pupils slightly shrink.

"Do you know why I can sense your position in shadow space?" The Duke took another step forward. "Do you know why I am not panicked after being dragged into shadow space?"

He took another step.

Julius subconsciously retreated half a step, not knowing why, but his body reacted quicker than his consciousness.

He stared at the Duke, a touch of unease added to his dark eyes.

"Did you feel it?" The Duke stopped, raising his right hand, fingers spread.

The icy-cold dark attribute energy in shadow space began converging into his palm, the shadow energy responding to a sovereign’s command, rushing from all sides, coalescing into a dark purple orb above his palm, slowly rotating.

Julius’s pupils sharply contracted.

"You... you can actually mobilize shadow energy?" His voice was dry, "Aren’t you the Child of Light?"

The Duke did not answer. He withdrew the dark purple orb in his right hand and closed his eyes.

Deep within the Spiritual Sea, the dark red blood imprint on the six-element composite crystal began to flicker.

The imprint grew brighter, hotter, like an ignited star.

Dark red light overflowed from the crystal, following the Spiritual Sea’s veins, flowing to limbs and bones.

The Duke’s body began to change.

He grew from ordinary height to over three meters, doubling in size, tearing the white gold-trimmed robe into strips, floating down.

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