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Wizard With Daily Task Panel!-Chapter 67: Summon To The God!
Leonard stood back, watching, feeling the chill of the room settle deeper into his bones as Alfonso’s blue eyes began to glow with an ethereal light. He muttered an incantation under his breath, and a faint, shimmering blue spell cascaded over the body of the fallen wizard. The wizard’s body jerked violently, as if defying the natural laws of life, and in the next moment, the wizard sat upright, his head hanging low, eyes glazed and vacant.
Leonard blinked in disbelief. The wizard was mindless, an empty shell of his former self.
"What did you steal?" Merlin’s voice rang out, his tone clipped and demanding.
The possessed wizard mumbled in a low, monotone voice. "The sacrificial item of the Siren, a broken trident."
Merlin’s gaze sharpened. "Where is it?"
The wizard, in his dazed state, continued to mutter as though in a trance. "In my space ring."
Alfonso, still with an eerie calmness, examined the wizard’s jewelry, three rings in total. A ruby ring, a silver antique ring, and a blue ring inlaid with emeralds. His fingers toyed with them as he muttered to himself, distracted, yet thoroughly absorbed in his task.
Merlin’s voice cut through the room again. "Where are you from?"
The question hung in the air like a weight, and Leonard couldn’t shake the feeling that everything; everything, was spiraling into a much darker game than he could have ever anticipated.
The wizard’s voice was weak, his words barely audible as he muttered, "The Wizard Tower in the Forest of Bones…"
Leonard frowned, his thoughts racing. The Wizard Tower in the Forest of Bones? It sounded almost too unbelievable. And yet, when Merlin spoke, his skepticism was clear. "The Wizard Tower in the Forest of Bones? But from what I know, most of the wizards there have turned into the undead long ago." His tone dripped with derision. "Please, come up with a better excuse next time."
Alfonso, standing beside Merlin, didn’t even flinch at the exchange. Instead, he acted with a swiftness that startled Leonard. With a sudden motion, Alfonso raised his right hand and placed it gently on the wizard’s crown.
The change was instantaneous. The wizard’s already cloudy eyes rolled upward, leaving only the whites staring back, and his body went rigid, frozen in place. The air in the room grew thicker, heavy with tension.
Merlin chuckled lightly, as if entertained by the wizard’s helplessness. "By the way," he remarked casually, "don’t bother trying to cast spells in secret. Your mental energy is more obvious than fish swimming in a pond."
Leonard watched with fascination as Alfonso stood still, his hand on the wizard’s head, controlling him effortlessly. Despite the grim nature of the scene, the power on display was almost hypnotic.
Merlin, however, wasn’t one to waste time on such trivialities. "It doesn’t really matter where he came from. What’s important is what he stole." His voice grew more serious, a sharp edge creeping in. "Anything that falls into the hands of a wizard becomes my trophy."
Alfonso handed Merlin one of the wizard’s rings, which he accepted with a deliberate grace. He closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers brushing the cool surface of the ring. A faint, almost imperceptible glow flickered from the emerald-studded band, a blue light that pulsed with a quiet intensity. Merlin opened his eyes, a faint smile curling on his lips.
In his hand, a heavy trident materialized, its weight unmistakable. The weapon was battered and worn, with only the faintest remains of a halberd handle left, the three prongs now chipped and dulled. The color was an aged copper green, the kind that could only come from decades or perhaps centuries, of exposure to salt and time.
Merlin inspected it with a playful grin, his fingers running over the cold metal. "Another wizard trying to take advantage," he mused, almost affectionately, as if the broken trident was a new toy. After a moment, he tossed it carelessly toward Leonard.
Leonard’s instincts kicked in, and he caught the trident mid-air, his palm sinking under its weight. Despite his enhanced physical strength, the trident felt heavier than anything he had ever held. It was like the weapon itself carried the weight of a thousand years, its power compressed into every ounce of its form.
Leonard’s brow furrowed as he tried to balance it. "This thing should be related to the sea god," Merlin said, his voice taking on a more thoughtful tone. "In truth, most of the truly valuable artifacts of the gods have already been looted by the great wizards. But there are always those who believe they can find treasures hidden in the remains of these gods."
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Leonard could feel the weight of the statement, the unspoken truth that some wizards never stopped seeking greater power, even at the cost of diving into the ruins of the divine. Merlin’s eyes narrowed slightly. "They’re questioning the judgment of the great wizards. A dangerous thing to do."
Merlin turned to face Leonard with an unreadable expression. "But this weapon? It’s not entirely useless. In fact, your statue might be interested in it. Why don’t you summon it and see?"
Leonard’s curiosity piqued, and without a word, he reached into his storage ring and pulled out the small statue of Poseidon. With a deep breath, he placed it carefully on the ground, the cool stone surface cold beneath his fingers.
For a long moment, nothing happened. The statue remained inert, silent, lifeless. Leonard felt his heart rate quicken in anticipation, but just as he began to doubt the outcome, a faint blue light flickered across the statue’s surface, like the first hint of a storm on the horizon.
Then, almost as if summoned by some force beyond his comprehension, a distant sound, the roar of the ocean, the call of deep-sea monsters, echoed in his mind. It was faint at first, like a dream that couldn’t quite take shape, but then it grew louder, filling the room with the unmistakable sound of crashing waves and creature cries. Leonard felt the illusion of a distant plane brush against the edges of his perception, the very air around him shimmering with ethereal energy.
He stared, wide-eyed, at the statue.
Could this be… God?
The thought raced through his mind like wildfire. This was more than just an artifact. The statue could connect with a divine power, a force that transcended the material world. But where did that power come from? Was it the last echo of a lost god, or was there something far deeper at play here?
Leonard could hardly tear his gaze away, his heart thudding in his chest. What was this power? What was it truly capable of?
A low, rumbling voice seemed to come from the statue of Poseidon, or perhaps from the vast ocean of darkness itself, echoing through the room in a tone that oozed condescension. "Wizard, you are not qualified to speak to me. Your power is nothing compared to the mighty wizards of old."
Leonard’s heart raced at the response, but it was Merlin who remained unfazed, his tone cool and almost mocking. "Once hailed as the most active god of the oceans," Merlin mused, his voice carrying an edge of disdain, "now you’re nothing but a trapped relic, forced to rely on this pitiful statue to spread your faith and regain power. It’s truly pathetic. Who knows when you’ll be strong again?"
Leonard couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the god, though he didn’t show it. There was something haunting about hearing such a powerful being reduced to a shadow of its former self.
But Merlin wasn’t done. "Tell me," he continued, "Don’t you want this trident? Surely a god like you can see its worth."
From the statue, the response was immediate and chilling. "This trident is not my sacred object. It is useless to me now." The voice was cold, distant, but there was an undercurrent of something more; regret, perhaps.
Merlin didn’t flinch. "If it were truly useless, you wouldn’t have responded to my call. For a god like you, each time you answer a summons, it drains your already dwindling power." Merlin’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur, almost like a serpent tempting its prey. "It seems you’re still tied to this trident more than you’d like to admit."
The voice from the statue darkened. "Damn you wizards," Methys, the god of tides and sea monsters, hissed, his voice now dripping with bitterness. "You are all so despicable, so treacherous."
Merlin’s lips curled into a knowing smile. "Ah, this is the power of knowledge, dear god." He stood tall, his right hand casually resting on his left shoulder as he leaned forward, a look of quiet triumph in his eyes. "Without knowledge, I would not know the true value of this trident, nor could I have come to this agreement with you. Just like the antique dealers in the world who can find treasures hidden in what others call garbage, those without vision will forever see rubbish where there’s gold. Knowledge, my dear Methys, is wealth."
Methys fell silent, the weight of Merlin’s words sinking in. Finally, the god spoke again, his tone weary but laced with an undeniable sharpness. "I don’t want to argue with you, wizards. What do you want from me?"