Wizard Bloodline.

Chapter 460 Revelation: Ancient Sounds abound, the calamity of lost voices! (Second update)
Oris's sharp, azure wings pierced through the thick, murky black clouds, and the man and eagle deviated from their original course, entering the territory that originally belonged to the Tangista Empire.

Ronan stood on the high wingtip of Oris and looked down. He had never been to Tangista before, but he knew that Tangista in the past would never have looked like this.

Tangista today resembles a cursed giant's corpse, its skin covered in festering sores and swollen pustules.

The vast plains were covered with decaying swamps. The vegetation in the mountains and forests had disappeared, resembling clusters of hardened scabs. The rivers below had dried up, looking like streaks of purplish-black mycelium.

Countless abyssal monsters scurried and roamed the earth and low in the air like flies and maggots.

Ronan had Oris lower himself, then landed on Oris's back, parted the wispy, purplish-black smoke that floated everywhere in the air, and gently stepped onto a field in the open.

The land, reeking of a strong, rotten stench, was filled with twisted and grotesque black wheat. A relatively clean scarecrow stood in the field. Ronan looked down and saw that the wheat field was piled with eerie, pale white insect eggs. He casually tore off a piece of wheat and squeezed out a thick, highly corrosive black sap.

Ronan walked across the wheat field toward a city in the distance.

This once bustling city is now devoid of any human presence, with only a bare flagpole standing atop the city walls.

Some monsters, resembling a combination of bats and frogs, clung to the city walls covered in yellowish-green mold. Upon seeing Ronan, they let out a shrill scream like a cat.

"Om-"

The Stellar Force Field emanated from his body, and the monsters with oily green eyes that were rushing towards Ronan like madmen were squeezed and burst apart one by one by the invisible force field when they got within a hundred meters of him.

Ronan strolled into the city through the stench of monster corpses, heading along the city's main thoroughfare, the central avenue.

He saw that the various crooked and collapsed buildings on both sides were crowded together like boils, and both the walls and the roofs were covered with a thick layer of eerie moss that seemed to be wriggling.

The air was thick with the smell of dust. All the way to the end of the avenue, Ronan saw, beside a collapsed fountain filled with putrid water, the "gathering" of all living things in the city and its surrounding area.

Countless corpses, some fresh, some rotten, some dried, were glued together and piled up to form a huge sacrificial tower. The ground around it was painted with the six-ring symbol of the ancient witch resurrection society, as well as a large number of strange and distorted characters and symbols of unknown meaning.

Ronan's gaze followed the towering flesh and bone tower upwards. At the base of the tower were still livestock and animals, then upwards, they became humans, then magical beasts, and finally the corpses of wizards dressed in robes.

"A sacrificial tower with a strong abyss theme, the prayers at its base mention words like 'evil eye' and 'evil slayer'."

Arazan's voice rang softly in my ears; he was also watching this scene.

"Can you read these words?"

Ronan looked down at the dark red writing on the ground, drawn with dried blood.

"I only recognize a small portion. I've read a few books about the Abyss Demons, but there's so much writing from the Abyss that no one can understand it all."

Arajan paused for a moment, then continued, "This altar should have been used and abandoned; it seems to contain some runes from a shared magic circle..."

"Shared magic array?"

Ronan's expression shifted slightly. "What is that?"

"If you ever go to Central, you will inevitably come into contact with it, and if nothing unexpected happens, you will use it sooner or later."

Arajan succinctly summarized: "It is called a shared magic circle, but in reality, it is usually a high-ranking wizard who unilaterally shares the energy, thoughts, and knowledge of a low-ranking wizard. The magic circle is used to collect additional units of wisdom for their own research, deduction, and analysis."

The shared magic circle causes negligible damage to low-level wizards, but the runes within it have been drastically altered. It's no longer simply about sharing, nor is it limited to energy or thoughts... it even includes the soul and life itself. Terms like 'plunder' or 'sustenance' would be more apt.

"Plunder and Supplies: A Deductive Analysis"

Ronan gazed at the magnificent yet cruel tower of flesh and blood sacrifice before him, muttering, "The White Witch King, with the power of the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society, is willing to sacrifice the lives of all the lowly wizards and people of Tangista in an attempt to mend the deficiencies in his bloodline and rid himself of the decaying blood."

Ronan seemed to have found the answer and understood why Thomas, the former commander of the First Legion of the Tangista Empire, was seen in Serena's guest seat.

The White Witch King has indeed gone mad.

He went mad the moment he joined forces with the Ancient Witches' Resurrection Society to kill his former friend, Wallis Phoenix.

A madman naturally wouldn't care about dragging the entire Sheung Wan continent down with him.

Ronan no longer needed to watch; he could imagine that similar sacrificial towers must be everywhere within the territory of the Tangista Empire.

This land has been thoroughly corrupted by the abyss, just like the former Quevada Oasis. The history of the Keldim Empire seems to be repeating itself.

Ronan summoned Oris, and the ancient thunder eagle carried him as they once again took flight into the sky.

At that moment, a roar resembling that of a lion or a tiger came from the thick, heavy clouds in the distance. The black clouds parted, and a huge and ferocious monster leaped out.

"Roar--"

The three-headed monster, with lion's mane, ram's horns, and snake scales, spread its eagle-like wings, its scarlet eyes fixed on Ronan, and roared, exuding a terrifying and evil aura befitting a sixth-tier magical beast.

A powerful black hurricane tore through the clouds and rushed toward the two of them. Orris let out a strange cry and suddenly rose into the air.

"Chimera!"

Ronan straightened up on Oris's back, his eyes burning as he gazed intently at the monster that resembled the legendary chimera, yet was filled with a twisted and evil aura.

A golden sea of ​​clouds surged within his azure pupils, and countless golden flames resembling broken runes erupted from his body, revealing indescribable phantoms. From within the light, tentacles resembling crimson gold and glass extended out.

"boom!"

Several tentacles suddenly tightened, piercing through layers of void, leaving a dazzling crimson trail in the black, murky sky, instantly striking the roaring monster.
The translucent, crimson-gold glass tentacles slowly retracted, and the tips of the tentacles, which were constantly flowing with the flames of the phoenix, were stained with a few specks of dark blue blood.

"Go back and tell Juventus."

Ronan narrowed his eyes and said calmly, "There will be a battle between him and me eventually, but not now."

After saying that, Ronan dissipated his powerful aura and beckoned Oris to turn around and head towards the predetermined goal, while the furious roar of "Chimera" echoed behind them.

This magical mount belonging to Juventus seems to have been transformed by the power of the abyss, making it more powerful and ferocious than it was many years ago. Its speed is incredible, and even Oris had to exert a lot of effort to barely shake it off.

Ronan sat on Oris's back, his mind entering the misty space.

He quickly passed by the more than 2,500 barbarian and elven tribes led by Iris, who, after a brief period of confusion, had begun to adapt to their new life in the misty space.

Vast tracts of land were reclaimed, more vegetation and trees were planted, and houses were built.
With so many distracting thoughts feeding it, the conscious snake's consciousness fluctuated more and more intensely, and it was already showing signs of waking up from its slumber.

The Blood Tree was visibly becoming more lush. At its base, the young girl Costie was quietly reading a wizarding book, with Dodor III curled up at her feet and Arrietty perched on her shoulder. She seemed quite popular there. Benego was still busy with his own things.
Compared to the outside world, everything here seems peaceful and serene.

Ronan silently exited the misty space, then took a ring off the ring finger of his left hand.

Open it, and you'll see a huge block of ice completely frozen by the cold air.

The ice contained the Devouring Worms. Ronan had been in the Realm of Fire for nine years, and if it hadn't been handled this way, these Devouring Worms would have already chewed through the ring and escaped.

Before I knew it, Oris's voice echoed in my mind.

"We're here, brother."

Ronan looked up and saw the distant horizon shrouded in thick gray fog. It was the Fog of Fate, the mechanism set up by the prophets of past generations, which had a certain isolating effect. This was one of the important reasons why the White Witch King and the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society could not completely occupy the Empire of Fate for the time being.

In front of it was a long, narrow, and huge canyon.

He returned once again to the Empire of Destiny, to the Silent Corridor of the Spirit Lake.

Ronan still remembers the scene when the wizard Siegel of the Spirit Lake led him into the Silent Corridor for the first time, but he didn't see Siegel when he entered the Spirit Lake last time, and he didn't know where he had gone.

Ronan bid farewell to Oris and entered the canyon alone.

Of the three revelations the prophet Eve left him, the first was about the ancient ruins located in the Silent Corridor. He didn't know what the prophet Eve wanted to tell him, but he believed he could find the answer on this trip.

Ronan continued his journey to the bottom of the canyon, traversing winding rock passages, until he arrived before the massive, suspended crystal cluster covered in runic restrictions. The Silent Corridor, once a large, shared secret realm between the Temple of the Witchheart and the Spirit Lake, was always guarded before it opened to the public. Now that the Temple of the Witchheart has disbanded and the Spirit Lake has fallen, the entrance to the secret realm is naturally deserted.

Upon entering the entrance, we once again found ourselves in that ancient corridor with its towering ceiling. Blurry figures flashed across the walls on both sides, ancient projections left behind by the ancient wizard Guyindo.

Ronan moved silently through the entire corridor, and then through the ancient buildings where he had once stood during his assault on dawn.

Outside the complex, in the black wilderness, beneath the flowing gray mist, the ancient monsters, formed from the echoes of magic, still roam.

Ronan ventured deeper into the area, passing the spot where he had fought Sieg. As he continued forward, the monsters gradually decreased, replaced by ancient, frozen sculptures.

An eerie atmosphere filled the air. Ronan summoned Ashyae and slowly approached a sculpture.

This is a statue of a middle-aged wizard with a short beard, wearing a flat-topped wizard hat that is very different from the current style of wizarding attire. He is shirtless, his chest has been torn apart, and his two hands are placed on the exposed ribs, his posture and movements are like playing a musical instrument.

His expression, however, revealed an unusual excitement and fervor, his eyes fixed on a certain spot, and Ronan saw an almost devout, worshipful look on his face.

Ashia descended from above Ronan's head, coldly surveying its surroundings like a loyal guard.

Ashya's strength remains at level four. Now, he can offer Ronan very little help. Ronan only summoned him because he had inscribed the runes of Guindo within Ashya's body.

Ronan carefully examined the statue in front of him, but he could not sense any runes or magical fluctuations on it.

Thinking this, Ronan extended a finger and gently placed it on a rib on the statue wizard's chest.

"Ding--"

Like an icicle striking a crystal plate, the point where Ronan's fingertips touched the stone ribs of the statue produced a sound like piano keys.

The voice emanated from the depths of Ronan's soul, indescribably beautiful and moving. Ronan was surprised, but before he could even try to touch his second rib, the voice began to undergo a bizarre distortion, becoming incredibly sharp and high-pitched.

"what--"

It felt as if countless people were screaming at the top of their lungs right next to Ronan's ears. The terrifying sound waves exploded directly in Ronan's mind, like a sonic nuclear explosion.

Ronan's body trembled violently, his pupils dilated instantly, and he felt his body, every inch of flesh and blood, his internal organs, his brain, and even his soul were shaking violently.

His eyes, mouth, nose, and ears were almost simultaneously stained with meandering trails of blood.

Ronan's body stiffened, and before his vision completely blurred, he glanced at Ashiya beside him, who seemed to be enduring the same unimaginable pain.

He watched as Ashiya clutched his head, his face contorted, and exploded into a violently churning cloud of soul smoke. After that, Ronan could no longer sense anything.

This horrific attack, which erupted from within, seemed to last for an entire century before finally passing.

Ronan struggled to recover from the aftershocks of the sound. Looking inward, he discovered that with just this one wave, the liquid sphere of life force within his body had shrunk by more than half.

The soul smoke that Ashya had transformed into churned weakly to the side, its aura weakened to less than a third of its original strength, and it had completely fallen below level four.

"What exactly is this?"

Ronan gasped for breath, wiping the blood streaming down his face.

Suddenly, he realized something.

"wrong!"

Ignoring the tearing pain coursing through his body, Ronan abruptly sat up and then quickly uttered a few words.
A moment later, he stopped in disbelief, staring blankly around before his gaze finally settling on the wizard statue before him, its chest torn open and its ribs forming piano keys.

sound!

All sound disappeared.

In this place, no matter what he does, he cannot make even the slightest sound.

It was as if a mysterious and vast power, an incomprehensible set of rules, had forcibly stripped this space of all sound.

This is a place where sound is completely lost.

Ronan's eyes flashed, and he stretched out his hand, using the flow of titanium to transform into the shape of a dragon spine longsword.

Every metal bone fragment on the longsword was vibrating rapidly, yet it couldn't make a sound.

The long sword hovered above the statue's head, but did not fall for a long time.

Suddenly, Ronan took a deep breath, put away the Titanium and the weakened Ashia, and continued to walk deeper into the ruins.

Here, he saw even more bizarre sculptures.

Just like the first statue he saw, almost every statue was a transformation of a wizard.

Some tore off their own tendons to use as strings; some ripped off their own skin to cover drums and beat them; some even removed their own throats to play like pipe organs; and some even dismantled their own leg bones to beat them to their heart's content.
Every statue bears an expression of excitement and fervor, all facing the same direction, as if immersed in the happiest and most wonderful thing in the world.

Their expressions and movements create a stark contrast, resulting in an indescribable eerie atmosphere in a completely silent environment.

"Perhaps the answer I'm looking for can be found in that place."

Ronan stared intently at the direction all the statues were facing, gritted his teeth, and rushed rapidly into the depths of the gray fog.

The wind whipped his robes, yet made no sound. A huge, invisible, and terrifying entity seemed to lurk within the flowing gray mist, silently waiting for Ronan to "walk into its trap."

Ronan had no idea how long he had been traveling through the gray fog; the deeper he went, the thicker the fog became.

When the fog became so thick it was like water, Ronan lunged forward, and in an instant, as if passing through a thick barrier, his vision suddenly brightened.

Countless complex and exquisite musical notes floated in the void like bubbles. Ronan saw an extremely tall and thin figure sitting on the ground with his back to him, his shoulders shaking as if he were covering his face and crying.

Ronan slowed his pace and walked step by step toward the huge, glowing figure.

The latter seemed to sense his presence, stopped crying, and then slowly turned her equally slender head 180 degrees.

When Ronan saw the figure's face clearly, he felt as if he had been struck hard by some invisible force.

He froze, his body tense, standing motionless like a statue.

The face of the figure was covered with countless wizard faces that had lost their voices but were still trying to speak.

These countless moving faces together formed the features of the human figure, and countless pairs of eyes were fixed on Ronan.

Suddenly, the giant figure opened its mouth wide and let out a silent roar towards Ronan—

"boom!"

At that moment, a massive torrent of information flooded Ronan's mind, and countless images flashed before his eyes.

An ancient story, sealed away for countless years, slowly unfolded before him.

Secrets, calamities.

In the vast space, two figures, one enormous and one minuscule, silently gazed at each other.

Ronan's pupils went unfocused, his lips trembled, and he murmured a few words.

"The calamity of lost pronunciation in ancient times"

Second update, supplement

(End of this chapter)