Wizard Lord:I can Extract Anything

"The one to kill me?" The black-robed figure's voice turned venomous.

"A wizard apprentice from the Academy?"

Richard didn't answer. Instead, his form shifted into a black-scaled giant, and his greatsword ignited with fierce black flames.

Then... Boom!

With a swing, the greatsword, accompanied by a howling wind, smashed the black-robed figure into the wall of the hall.

Simultaneously, the ground-level People's Guard began their operation. Under the city lord Spencer's orders, the entire city's People's Guard had been mobilized to this location. These robust soldiers, many of whom were knights, were skilled fighters but had one task in this battle: evacuate the civilians.

"Bastard!"

A furious roar echoed from the wall, and a blood-red figure shot out at a speed too fast for the eye to follow.

But Richard didn't even glance back, countering with another swing.

Boom!

Was this all the mad wizard could muster? Richard thought mockingly as three fireballs suddenly appeared around him.

These fireballs had been modified by Ellie, each reaching an energy level of fifty. Now, all three aimed at the Patriarch, shooting forth together.

Boom!

Richard turned his gaze to the cult followers in the hall, taking out a recording crystal ball.

"Leave this place immediately."

Cult followers generally weren't the brightest, and few would heed his warning. Recording it in advance would provide an explanation to the academy when casualties inevitably occurred.

If they insisted on courting death, how could he be blamed?

Sure enough, after Richard's warning, not a single follower moved, even though the Patriarch's mental manipulation had ceased.

Richard shook his head. There was no point in advising those determined to die.

He approached the black-robed figure, who was now unrecognizable after the fireball barrage. Yet, despite being unconscious, the mad wizard's blood and flesh continued to writhe, healing his wounds.

"Interesting," Richard mused, pulling the figure out. As the flesh writhed, the black-robed man's appearance returned to normal.

The followers gasped upon seeing his true face.

"Oh my God, it's Mr. Nicolo?"

Mr. Nicolo?

Richard noted the name, then used the crystal ball to contact Spencer on the ground.

"Spencer, do you know a man named Nicolo?"

"Nicolo?" The voice from the crystal ball sounded surprised.

"Nicolo is Gale City's largest grain merchant, sir. Did you see him inside?"

A grain merchant?

Something felt off to Richard.

"Is he a graduated wizard?" Richard asked immediately.

"Impossible, sir. Although Nicolo has an interest in sorcery, he's definitely a mortal."

Spencer's response shocked Richard. If Nicolo was a grain merchant, where did his mental power come from?

Awakening mental power required a meditation technique, and developing it took a long time.

Richard could believe Gale City had some basic meditation techniques, but even with those, Nicolo couldn't possibly reach senior apprentice levels in his lifetime.

"Something's not right. This is a trap!"

Realizing this, Richard prepared to leave the underground hall immediately.

But it was too late.

Scarlet light erupted from the altar in the hall's center, swiftly enveloping the entire hall.

Under the crimson glow, the followers' skin began to ooze blood, forming streams on the floor that traced a bizarre pattern.

The followers did not scream or show pain. Instead, they knelt in the bloodlight, praising the Crimson Lord's blessing loudly.

But Richard was not faring well.

He felt his cells trembling, an eerie energy stimulating them to detach from his body.

With no time to think, Richard conjured several fireballs, launching them at the altar's center while he turned to flee.

The sound of explosions filled the air as the fireballs detonated, engulfing the altar in flames and blasting nearby followers to pieces.

As the flames dissipated, the altar remained untouched—a blood barrier had absorbed all the damage.

Before Richard could react further, a figure rose from the followers, pointing at him.

Crack, crack, crack.

Three shattering sounds echoed in Richard's ears—the sound of mental barriers breaking.

Suddenly, his brain felt pierced by dozens of searing iron spikes, the intense pain leaving him blank.

"Mad wizard!" Richard roared, clutching his head.

"Still alive?" The mad wizard sounded surprised.

Most senior apprentices wouldn't survive his attack.

But alive or not, he could always strike again.

With that thought, the mad wizard gathered his magic for another blow.

Boom!

The mad wizard stared dumbly at his right arm, now a cloud of blood mist.

"Ugh!"

He groaned, his face paling as blood oozed from his eyes, mouth, and nose. The excruciating pain shattered his concentration, causing his spell to fail.

Spell backlash struck him immediately.

It would be a while before he could cast spells again.

From his magic pouch, he drew a half-man-high steel wand. The flesh at his shoulder writhed, growing a new arm in moments. He looked at Richard, who held a strange magical device resembling an alien crossbow.

"Tsk, missed."

Richard, enduring the headache, stowed the magic gun back in his pouch. This weapon was a one-shot deal; if it didn't kill, it was tough to land another hit.

Richard dared not use spells recklessly now.

The mental attack's damage wasn't easily remedied. The searing pain was soul-deep, immune even to focus potions.

In the bloodlight, the two wizard apprentices faced each other.

In the next instant, their forms collided, unleashing shockwaves.

With the mad wizard present, Richard couldn't leave freely. This ritual seemed exceptionally sinister. If allowed to continue, who knew what chaos would ensue?

Moreover, Richard suspected the Crimson Lord wasn't merely a mad wizard's fabrication.

This so-called deity might truly exist.

If the ritual proceeded, that entity might actually descend.

Richard knew the wizarding world must have countermeasures against such events, but even a second of that entity's presence could spell his doom.

Maybe its arrival would be a minor setback for the wizarding world, perhaps even a gain.

But Richard had no intention of being the sacrificial cost.

In the bloodlight, Richard transformed into the black-scaled giant, his muscles bulging with each movement carrying immense force. The mad wizard, though using psychic spells, had physical strength rivaling Richard's due to the Crimson Lord's influence.

Dull thuds echoed through the hall as the two nearly inhuman creatures—one wielding a staff, the other a greatsword—struck at each other's vital points.

Ultimately, the mad wizard wasn't specialized in physical prowess. Richard gradually gained the upper hand. When the mad wizard exposed a flaw, Richard grinned, his arm muscles swelling.

Boom!

A blood blossom erupted from the mad wizard's chest, the powerful blow leaving a near-transparent hole.

"It's over," Richard said coldly, raising his sword to sever the mad wizard's head.

"Indeed, it is."

The mad wizard sneered, and behind him, a spatial rift cracked open on the altar, revealing a blood-red eye.

"Our lord is about to descend!"

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