Arcane Journey

Then, Brian's pupils suddenly shrank, and everything before his eyes unfolded like a nightmare.

The lich's unstoppable magical arms and tentacles, like a monster from the abyss, reached Vizlan's chest in an instant at incredible speed, weaving a prelude to death.

One after another strange tentacles, like twisted snake shadows in the night, first wrapped around Vizlan's body, cold and firm, binding him tightly, and not even the slightest breeze could shake him.

The tentacles not only bound his body, but also seemed to freeze time, making everything around him slow and heavy.

Then, the magic arm that was flashing with strange cold light slowly raised up, as if it was a judgment from another world, and grabbed towards Vizlan's chest mercilessly. Every sound of the nails scratching through the air seemed to be telling of an irreversible fate.

"Pfft!"

Nothing unexpected happened. The lich's magical arm was like an icy sharp blade, piercing Vizlan's chest mercilessly.

At this moment, time seemed to freeze, and the air was filled with an indescribable weirdness and bloodiness.

The scarlet blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the ground red and reflecting the surprise in Brian's eyes that was difficult to conceal.

As the lich's magic arm was slowly pulled out of Vizlan's chest, a heart that was still beating weakly appeared in Brian's sight.

This heart seems to still be telling the story of the tenacity and indomitable spirit of life, and every beat is like the last struggle against fate.

However, what surprised Brian even more was that Vizlan's heart was actually black.

This black heart is as smooth and shiny as a crow's feather, exuding a cold and mysterious aura, as if it contains endless magic and curses.

It is as deep as the stars in the night sky, yet it exudes a chilling attraction.

As Vizlan's heart was taken out, the temperature of the surrounding air suddenly dropped, as if time had frozen at this moment.

The heart occasionally beat slightly, like a sleeping monster, emitting a low, trembling hum, which reminded people of those forgotten horrors.

"Sure enough, your black heart is just like you, your body is dirty and your heart is dirty..."

The lich's face remained indifferent. In those lifeless eyes, the beating fire of the soul stared coldly at the black heart that was still beating slightly in his palm.

It looked as if it had anticipated what was going to happen next.

"My old friend, you must have spent countless precious resources and efforts to refine this heart. Now, it has been destroyed so easily in my hands. Don't you really feel any regret or anger at all?"

The lich's voice was cold and hoarse, like a chill wind from the underworld, carrying with it irresistible majesty and cruelty.

However, before the lich finished speaking, Brian keenly sensed that the strange black heart, while wriggling faintly, suddenly expanded at a speed visible to the naked eye, as if it was driven by some mysterious force, vowing to tear the surrounding space apart. Then, with a "bang", the heart that had expanded to the extreme suddenly exploded, releasing a strong breath of negative energy that was so strong that it made people feel suffocated.

"It's indeed a pity, but compared to being able to survive, this refined magic heart is not as important as imagined, don't you think?" Vizlan's figure slowly appeared at the other end of the Mage Tower. A slightly smug smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and his eyes flashed with a cunning light, as if everything was under his control.

His words are light and magnetic, like a spring breeze, making it impossible to resist his logic.

"Trading my heart for your skeleton, in my opinion, it's obvious that I'm the one making more money, isn't it?" His words were full of confidence and arrogance, as if he was already the winner of the deal.

Vizlan simply raised his hand and lightly pointed towards the air. A ripple like water waves spread out in the air. The ripples were crystal clear, like dewdrops in the morning light, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Then, this crystal clear dewdrop turned into a stream of light and merged into the body of the lich.

"How is it? Does the feeling of being cursed feel bad?" Vizlan's smile became more and more proud. His voice sounded soft, but with a barely perceptible chill.

His words were also full of teasing and sarcasm, and he was obviously enjoying the wonderful performance that might happen next.

"My old friend, you should know that the curse I cast on your heart is specially prepared for you. It can not only destroy your skeleton and turn your body into ashes, but even your soul will feel this pain before the skeleton is completely destroyed."

Vizlan's words were like a sharp blade, cutting through the air and the lich's heart.

Every word he said was full of power and majesty, making it impossible to ignore his presence.

At this moment, as the master of this magic tower, the entire magic tower responded to Vizlan's every word, trembling slightly and gathering terrible power one after another.

Hearing what Vizlan said, although it was still difficult to detect any fluctuations in the lich's pale face made of bones, the soul fire beating in its eye sockets became flickering, like the twinkling stars in the deep night sky, revealing its inner unrest.

As the soul fire beat violently, the lich involuntarily raised his skinny arms and gently covered his chest.

In the empty chest, the heart that did not exist seemed to feel a burning pain at this moment, waves of rapid pain, like a raging fire burning in the bone marrow, making it involuntarily frown its bony brows.

"My old friend, after nearly a thousand years, is it time to put an end to this game between us?"

Vizran stared at the lich with a sharp gaze, as if he could see into the deepest fear and despair in his heart. He obviously understood that villains often die because of their words, so while he was talking, he had quietly gathered his strength to deal a fatal blow to this ancient evil and completely expel it from his wizard tower.

As Vizlan slowly raised his hand, the air seemed to freeze at that moment.

His movements were graceful and solemn, like a priest in an ancient ritual, summoning an invisible and terrifying being.

And in the Mage Tower, those dormant or restless energies obviously sensed Vizlan's call and responded to his will, rushing in like a tide and gathering in his palm. (End of this chapter)