Wizard: Starting With Synthesized Gems - Chapter 927

Chapter 922 How did you find me? Please tell me.

In Room 1 of the Witch’s Kitchen at Golden Crown Mountain, the Moon Ring Witch of the Rose Council found the Brandy Wizard and handed him the documents.

The Brandy Wizard looked at the documents in disbelief.

He swallowed hard.

The Moon Ring Witch said, “After much consideration, I believe you are the most outstanding among the younger generation of Golden Crown Mountain. Therefore, I have chosen you as the best choice for our Rose Council. I have entrusted this project to you.”

The Brandy Wizard was extremely eager.

“Thank you. My lady, I will definitely apply for special funding. Thank you for your trust.”

The Moon Ring Witch’s face remained expressionless, a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold.

‘There’s no other way; I can only choose the best among the worst.’ ‘

My original best targets were Zeno and Augustine, but unfortunately, neither of these wizards was willing to continue talking to me. Even if I praise them a bit, a dead pig might climb a tree. Oh well, it’s just a few words.’ The Moon

Ring Witch looked at the Brandy Wizard and said, “There’s something I want to know. I saw in your file that you’re involved in an incident two years ago where a researcher from the Institute of True Knowledge left the station. I want to know—did you actually do that?”

The Brandy Wizard’s smile froze.

“I…”

The Moon Ring Witch glanced at him. “You don’t need to say anything. Since you react this way, I know what happened. I don’t care about this matter. In our Rose Council, if someone can’t even protect the data in their own laboratory, it’s clearly their own incompetence, and they can’t blame anyone else.”

The Brandy Wizard breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re so generous. I’ll perform well and make sure this year’s top grant is mine.”

After the Rose Council witch left, he immediately stood up and let out a long breath. He looked at the file in his hand and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Zhuoma, I’ve won after all.”

“I’ve beaten you.”

“With this information, no genius can stand against me. This is the complete project the Sun Ring Wizard gave me, hahaha… Zeno, Augustine, none of them can beat me.”

The Brandy Wizard laughed heartily, as if he hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

Halfway through his laughter, he suddenly stopped and realized what was happening, activating the soundproof magic array in this No. 1 VIP room.

…

In the historical reenactment, Locke was using Historical Reenactment on the souls in the Supernatural Purgatory, which was equivalent to using it on the Supernatural Purgatory itself.

This undoubtedly increased the simulation volume of Locke’s historical echo.

Locke’s 20,000 magic pressure historical energy within the fake tomb of the Three Cave Worlds was working at full capacity, helping him process the negative energy particle field information, and ripples appeared one after another above the Supernatural Purgatory.

This was equivalent to adding another virtual scene of the Supernatural Purgatory’s historical reenactment to the wizard’s secret realm of the Supernatural Purgatory, that is, adding a virtual world to the secret realm.

Seeking illusion within illusion.

At this moment, the magic array stones on the ground of the Longevity Peach Garden reacted, and bolts of magical lightning appeared. Antoine, who was guarding the Supernatural Purgatory Magic Array, was stunned.

“Strange, why did the pressure of the inheritance magic array suddenly increase by a third?”

“Never mind, just draw the celestial fire magic energy from Golden Crown Mountain and bring over the magic tide concentration gradient.”

The entire Supernatural Purgatory was actually just a fluctuating space shaped by an inheritance magic array.

This was their ultimate laboratory of kinetic science, a research project that had been conducted for thousands of years—exploratoryly using fluctuations to shape a world!

A fluctuating world!

At this moment, within the magical model of the Supernatural Purgatory, where history was being recreated, Locke was walking in a colonial world, very similar to the wizarding world.

This was a small-scale plane.

Although it was a relatively rare life plane among small-scale planes, and it had given birth to relatively complex life, including a werewolf clan and a civilization that was roughly in the medieval stage,

it was still a small plane.

Its scale was extremely small; compared to a medium-sized world, this small world was almost equivalent to an island.

Locke looked at the center of the historical reenactment spell model, at the very place where the demon king werewolf he had encountered before stood.

This historical reenactment spell model was created by him using the negative energy particle field information resonating between the demon king werewolf and the travelogue in his possession, and was supported by his own historical aura.

Therefore, the protagonist within this spell model was the demon king-level infernal creature from the supernatural purgatory—the werewolf.

However, at this moment, that werewolf should still be a real living being.

Locke looked in the direction of the werewolf.

This was probably a rural area, sparsely populated and lacking in buildings. The village consisted of only a few stone houses, next to which were some simple livestock pens, seemingly the dwellings of the villagers.

The werewolf was not wearing the double-breasted black military uniform he would later wear, nor the distinctive military cap; he was simply dressed in coarse cloth, and beside his triangular eyes was a wound of unknown origin.

The werewolf, dressed in coarse cloth, knelt at the entrance of a village and said, “Please teach me magic, teacher.”

“I come from a very far-off village. Teacher, I’ve heard your legends from afar. They say you possess magic, and that you’re happy to teach others.”

“Teacher, I’ve heard your rule for teaching magic is to see if it suits your taste.”

The werewolf boy, a villager, kowtowed to the stone door.

“I want to learn from you.”

“My family are outsiders in this village. The villagers bully us. The village chief’s family makes us work for them all day without paying us, yet expects us to be grateful.”

“Teacher, I want to learn magic from you so I can protect myself.”

Inside the stone building, there seemed to be a wizard.

Locke, with his hands behind his back, had a feeling that the wizard inside the stone building was also observing him.

Although there was a wall between them, and although the person was a simulation created by his own Recalling History spell, the wizard seemed to have seen him; their gazes met across the wall.

Locke realized it was a historical amplification.

The two of them becoming aware of each other’s presence through their historical amplification.

Locke looked at the werewolf’s youthful form; he had indeed met the travelogue’s author through the negative energy particle field emanating from him.

Locke eagerly awaited the opening of the stone house. According to history, the werewolf should have apprenticed under Maxwell, which was why he was brought into the wizarding world and died near Mount Golden Crown. His soul was thus captured by the supernatural purgatory, falling into it and transforming into the werewolf.

Would he be able to see the true face of this mysterious archaeological wizard who had left his mark in the abyss ruins?

Locke couldn’t help but wonder.

Inside the stone house, a voice clearly altered by magic came from within.

Locke was speechless.

These archaeological wizards were all too cowardly.

This personality trait was likely inherited from their ancestor.

No, this was just a small-scale world! The magical pressure of this small-scale world was only four or five times higher than that of an ordinary second-ring wizard, and two or three times higher than that of a star-ring wizard.

In this world, even conversing with a mere mortal required using magic to muffle one’s voice.

Locke knew this must have happened in history.

While historical reenactment could use existing elements to deduce world history, under his control, his historical reenactment spell model was essentially just faithfully following past events.

Of course, the longer the historical reenactment evolved, the weaker his control would become.

The elements became increasingly complex, making it harder to control and ensure the events mirrored the original history.

Locke’s current level of mastery was due to the historical agility his ancestor had created; otherwise, he would never have been able to achieve this with the historical reenactment spell.

At this moment, the wizard inside the stone house spoke: “Leave. You are not suited to learn my magic.”

“Your motives are impure.”

“Magic is a… useless skill. If you want to learn magic to protect yourself and your family, then you are not suited to learn my magic.”

The werewolf boy rose from the ground, his eyes filled with confusion.

Useless skill?

Useless things, why bother learning them?

At this moment, Locke immediately confirmed one thing: Maxwell was indeed a wizard from the Cloud Marsh Wetlands!

Wizards from other wizarding lands, even if they emphasized the use of the useless, would never be so extreme as to directly consider magic a useless science.

Only the wizards of the Cloud Marsh Wetlands, because of their excessive pragmatism, preferred to pursue something they didn’t actually possess—the use of the useless.

The entire Cloud Marsh Wetlands loved to say they were pursuing useless magic, but in reality, they were all struggling and dying.

In other wizarding lands of the wizarding world, it was rare for a wizard to casually declare magic a useless science.

Locke also confirmed that five hundred years ago, Maxwell was probably just an ordinary second-circle wizard, at least when he was active in the Golden Crown Mountain region.

His actions in this small world seemed too much like experimenting with his own designed power system and using the spread of civilization to enhance his understanding of his own power.

Locke knew that many wizards would teach others magic in the endless void to understand their own power, because while teaching others, they would deeply contemplate their own power system.

This custom didn’t begin in the Enlightenment; there’s ample evidence to suggest it existed in much earlier times than the wizarding civilization.

Locke frowned, watching the werewolf return dejectedly.

He accelerated the replay of history; the next day, the young werewolf returned, kneeling before Maxwell’s door, once again begging him to teach him magic.

The young werewolf said to Maxwell, “Master, I want to learn magic so I can return to the village and punish the bad guys. I want to learn magic.”

“Please teach me magic,”

Maxwell said, seemingly quite helplessly inside the stone chamber.

“Why are you here again? I’ve told you, you lack conviction and are completely unsuitable for learning magic. If you were to learn magic, it would only be a disaster for you.”

“Some things are not meant for you, so don’t force them.”

The next day, the young werewolf once again left dejectedly, like a stray dog. The village’s little werewolves pointed at his forlorn departing figure and laughed, singing nursery rhymes to mock him.

Locke stood on the hillside beside the stone house, coldly observing this scene.

At this moment, he could actually risk rushing into that stone house to meet the wizard Maxwell, but considering that the other party was also an archaeological wizard, it was best not to take such a risk.

He should wait for history to repeat itself, trying not to change any elements, so as to maintain his historical reenactment spell model to the greatest extent.

After all, this was the space inside his spell model.

Maintaining this environment was maintaining his magical power, and controlling the historical sequence would maintain his historical reenactment spell model.

Locke accelerated the historical reenactment.

On the third day, the young werewolf king knelt before the stone building once more, calling out to the wizard inside, “Teacher, to show you my determination, to show you my faith, I have decided to kneel before you every day, if only you would teach me magic.”

There was no response from within the stone building.

Then, Locke accelerated the replay of history, and indeed, every day thereafter, the young werewolf knelt precisely before the stone house before dawn.

Spring, summer, autumn, winter…

a year passed, and he did almost nothing except for the necessary labor to earn his sustenance. He simply knelt before the house every day, begging to learn magic from Maxwell.

He was so resolute.

He gradually learned the ways of the world, no longer kneeling empty-handed, but carrying a gift for his teacher—a jar of the finest wine in this small world.

A year and a half passed, and the young werewolf’s face grew even more weathered.

The young werewolf king stubbornly stared at the stone building.

“Teacher, I won’t leave until you teach me magic.”

“Teacher, I want to learn magic. My desire to learn magic will never change. This is my will.”

“Teacher, I want to learn magic to uphold justice.”

A sigh suddenly came from inside the stone building.

The Demon King Werewolf looked up in surprise.

“Teacher?”

a voice came from inside the stone building.

“I conducted an experiment. I imitated Enlightenment-era wizards, teaching magic to others for free. But through my experiment, I discovered… in the short term, this act of freely disseminating magical knowledge seems to actually give rise to a world-destroying demon.”

“And the long-term results are still unknown.”

“Furthermore, the sample size of this experiment is too small. I need to conduct similar experiments in more worlds. Regarding historical knowledge, I’ve never believed that simply reading and examining past events constitutes historical research.”

“Completing unfinished social experiments is also a way of studying history. Archaeology shouldn’t just stop at reconstructing the past; it can also apply past methods to predict the future, to reconstruct a ‘path that didn’t happen.’”

‘We need to test historical variables within a controllable civilization. What if the wizarding civilization hadn’t undergone the Enlightenment revolution?’

Locke vaguely felt that the other person seemed to be pioneering a completely new path.

He rubbed his temples, but based on his previous logic, the other person at this stage was most likely just an ordinary second-circle wizard.

Could an ordinary second-circle wizard really pioneer a new path?

The young werewolf demon king raised his head and asked, “Teacher, what do you mean? I don’t understand. Are you willing to accept me?”

“Teacher, I can kneel here for a thousand days, ten thousand days, just to be accepted by you.”

A sneer came from inside the stone building.

“You’re still clinging to me.”

“But if I kill you now, where will you find a thousand days? Ten thousand days? Can a person threaten others with something they don’t have?”

The young werewolf demon king was stunned.

Inside the stone building, the wizard spoke, “My eyes always bother me, because I can always foresee the future of others. Alas. Perhaps it’s not a problem with my eyes, but rather that my historical intuition is simply too high.”

“Alright. But let me tell you, if you want to uphold justice and fairness, that means you have to be responsible for judging right and wrong, and by what right do you have the power to judge the right and wrong of others?”

The young werewolf demon king hesitated, unable to speak.

The door of the stone building opened.

The wizard said, “You can come in now. I originally intended to let you go, but you refused to let yourself go. Since that’s the case, and you want to learn magic, then I’ll teach you.”

The door opened, and Locke looked sharply at it.

He knew this was a crucial moment.

With his current historical awareness, could he use this historical reenactment spell model to see the true face of his opponent?

This was the legendary archaeological wizard who could toy with the Tower of the Black Sun, see the truth of history, and still escape unscathed.

The demon werewolf pushed open the door and entered.

His actions also allowed Locke’s gaze to fall inside.

But the next moment, Locke couldn’t help but feel disappointed, because the demon werewolf was excitedly bowing to a wizard seated inside the door, but in Locke’s eyes, there was no wizard in that seat at all.

It seemed that some powerful magic had forcibly interfered with his historical reenactment.

Because according to his deduction, this Maxwell wizard at this moment should only be an ordinary second-circle wizard, and his magic pressure might not even be as high as his own.

Normally, he shouldn’t be unable to appear within this History Recreation Spell.

Of course, it’s also possible that my deduction of his current magic level is incorrect.

However, if his current magic level is very high, then I probably wouldn’t be able to use the History Recreation Spell to reach this point.

In other words, based on the current situation, my deductions are most likely correct.

At this moment, the Demon King Werewolf kowtowed and knelt before that seat.

He seemed extremely happy.

The werewolf demon, staring excitedly at the empty seat, exclaimed, “Teacher, so this is what you look like! For over a year, I’ve been imagining what you look like!”

“I never expected you to look like this.”

“Teacher, thank you for teaching me magic. I will study hard. I promise you, I will obey you completely.”

He repeatedly kowtowed to the empty seat in Locke’s eyes.

At this moment, Locke couldn’t even hear what Maxwell was saying; it was as if he had completely vanished from this history. Although his words and image had disappeared, his cause and effect remained.

The reason was simple.

In this historical fragment constructed around the werewolf’s memories, if Maxwell completely disappeared, the entire historical fragment would logically collapse.

Therefore, to maintain this history, even though Maxwell’s image and voice had disappeared, the young werewolf demon still seemed to be speaking to him as if Maxwell were enacting this history.

Locke frowned. He hadn’t gone through all this trouble to come here just to see this.

He then took out something.

A picture book. A

historical atlas!

Suddenly, the atlas glowed with magical light, followed by streaks of light that transformed into shooting stars and hurtled towards the empty space in the chair.

The silhouette of a figure appeared on the chair.

Under the power of the historical atlas, painstakingly crafted by the Warwick werewolf, his own History Recall Charm was amplified, forcing out any trace of the other’s existence in this period of history.

The silhouette on the chair flickered, like leaping fluorescent light,

as if it were a ghost not existing in this era.

Maxwell’s body existed in the form of a particle ghost, countless magical particles forming his form, forcibly bringing him back to this point in history.

“Hmm? A historical atlas of the Qionghua Enclave?”

“Organizing negative energy particle fields into an atlas, then reading it to enhance the accuracy of the History Recall Spell? This is a unique tradition of the archaeological wizards of the Qionghua Enclave.”

“This fellow villager from Yunze Wetlands.”

“This isn’t your method. Two against one, you can’t do it like this.”

Maxwell, maintaining his quantum ghost form, sat in the chair. At this moment, the entire History Recall Spell seemed to have a bug, stuck, with all the figures frozen in place.

Wizard Maxwell looked at Locke, curiosity in his eyes, then at the travelogue in Locke’s hand, understanding dawning on him.

“There was no particular reason for placing this travelogue in the Golden Crown Mountain library. It’s just that the White Wizarding Association demanded we erase all historical records related to the War of the Ages, which I felt was wrong; erasing history is an error.”

“So I placed a document in the Golden Crown Mountain library.”

“But how did you find me through this document? Can I ask you? I should have already cleared out all my documents, shouldn’t I?”

Wizard Maxwell asked with considerable curiosity.

(End of Chapter)