Chapter 575 - 26: Third-Level Wizard

Chapter 575: Chapter 26: Third-Level Wizard

"Well, well, isn’t it Master Rodrick?"

"What ’Master’? He’s not even a First-Level Wizard anymore."

"I heard they repossessed all his elemental organs. His power’s dropped so low he’s not even a match for an Official Wizard now, right?"

"Tsk, tsk. What a pity, what a pity. He was so magnificent back then, and now..."

Their laughter was sharp and piercing, like a blade scraping across Rodrick’s heart.

He lowered his head and turned to leave.

...

Rodrick saw himself living in a dilapidated wooden shack, surviving by doing odd jobs for food.

The subordinates who once bowed and scraped before him now treated him with cold contempt.

Even Anvil, a gang leader he’d never bothered to give a second glance, now dared to mock him to his face.

"Master Rodrick? How did you end up in such a state?"

Anvil had a cigarette dangling from his lips, a mocking smile on his face.

"I hear you can’t even pay your rent now. How about I lend you a few copper plates?"

Rodrick’s face flushed red, but he couldn’t utter a single word of rebuttal.

Because he knew Anvil was telling the truth.

He really couldn’t afford the rent.

He really had to beg people for even a few copper plates.

He kept his head down and hurried through the decaying streets, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes.

...

Rodrick was curled up in a sewer, surrounded by foul, murky water and trash.

He shivered uncontrollably, his lips blue, his clothes tattered beyond recognition.

He had been starving for seven days.

He hadn’t eaten a thing in seven days.

With a trembling hand, he fumbled inside his shirt and pulled out a small, white pill.

Nightmare Pills.

This was his last possession.

He hesitated for a moment, then shoved the pill into his mouth and swallowed it dry.

The pill took effect quickly, temporarily suppressing the hunger pangs.

But he knew this was only temporary.

Tomorrow, he would be hungry again.

The day after, he would be hungry again.

Until one day, he would starve to death in this filthy sewer.

Or be dragged away by those who harvested materials, to become a specimen in some laboratory.

Rodrick closed his eyes as two streams of tears traced paths down his grimy cheeks.

’I can’t accept this.’

’I really can’t accept this.’

’But what can I do about it?’

’I have nothing left.’

...

"Ah!"

Rodrick’s eyes flew open, and he shot up in bed.

His chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath, cold sweat soaking his pajamas.

The bedroom was dim, with only the moonlight from outside casting a faint, silvery glow on the floor.

The wall clock ticked away. TICK-TOCK, TICK-TOCK.

He looked down at his chest.

It was intact.

No gaping hole.

He raised his hands and looked at his palms.

Clean. Whole. There was no sewer grime on his skin.

Rodrick sat stunned on the bed, and it took a long while for him to slowly come to his senses.

’It was a dream.’

’Just a dream.’

He let out a long breath, leaned back against the headboard, and wiped the cold sweat from his face.

Then, he couldn’t help but laugh.

His laugh held a hint of relief, like one who had survived a disaster, but also a trace of self-mockery.

’A Second-Level Wizard, a Third-Level Wizard, the Senate...’

’It was all a dream.’

’None of it was real.’

He was still a First-Level Wizard, living in this three-story villa, served by a butler. He spent his days drinking brandy and occasionally went to City Hall to bicker with those old foxes.

It was a bit of a hassle, sure, but at least...

At least he didn’t have to worry about his elemental organs being repossessed.

At least he didn’t have to live in a sewer.

At least he wouldn’t starve to death.

Leaning against the headboard, Rodrick gazed at the moonlit garden outside his window and suddenly felt that the day’s troubles didn’t seem so troublesome after all.

He glanced at the clock.

Three in the morning.

It would be a few more hours until dawn.

Rodrick had no desire to go back to sleep. He threw off the covers, walked barefoot to the window, and pulled open the curtains.

The night air drifted in, carrying the fresh scent of grass and trees.

He took a deep breath, letting the cool, clean air fill his lungs and wash away the lingering gloom of the dream.

Then, he saw him.

There, at the threshold where the moonlight met the dimness of the room, a dark figure had appeared at some unknown moment.

The person just stood there, watching him quietly, like a phantom that had silently condensed from the moonlight itself.

He wore an old-fashioned, long black robe, his ink-black hair draped over his shoulders.

What made Rodrick’s heart stop was the man’s eyes.

They were pitch-black and bottomless.

And they were gazing at him calmly.

Rodrick’s pupils contracted sharply.

He didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. The moment those eyes registered on his retinas, the combat instincts of a First-Level Wizard had already taken over.

"Who’s there!"

He let out a low growl. His right hand shot up, fingers spread, and a dazzling blue electric light instantly condensed into a ball in his palm. It then transformed into a lightning bolt as thick as a bowl, shooting toward the dark figure with a blinding flash and a loud CRACKLE!

This was one of the strongest offensive Magic spells he could cast instantly.

The aftershocks of the nightmare still echoed in his mind. At this moment, any stranger appearing in his bedroom was enough to make him unleash his full power without a second thought.

However, the lightning passed right through the figure.

No impact. No explosion. Not a single trace was left behind.

It was like passing through a trick of the light, an illusion, a mass of air condensed into human form.

The dazzling blue lightning emerged from the figure’s back, shattered a decorative painting on the bedroom wall, left a scorched black mark, and then dissipated into the air.

But the dark figure remained standing there, perfectly still.

Not even the hem of his robe had stirred.

Rodrick’s hand froze in mid-air.

He gaped, eyes wide, staring at the figure who was so close yet seemed a world away. His mind was a complete blank.

Then, a thought exploded in his mind like a clap of thunder.

’Elementalization!’

’And it’s complete Elementalization!’

’Only a being with an extremely high degree of Elementalization could achieve something like this.’

Rodrick was a First-Level Wizard himself; of course he knew what Elementalization meant.

It was a Path only Second-Level Wizards could embark on.

The higher the degree of conversion, the stronger the immunity to conventional attacks.

And a being who was already immune to most Low-tier Magic...

That would be a Third-Level Wizard.

The kind of big shots who sat in the Senate.

Rodrick felt his legs go weak as a chill shot up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

He had just cast an attack spell at a Third-Level Wizard.

He had just tried to attack a Senate Level being.

His lips trembled violently, and his throat was too dry to make a sound.

After several seconds, he finally managed to speak, his voice so hoarse he barely recognized it himself.

"May I ask... which... Your Excellency..."

The man looked at him and spoke calmly.

"Murphy."

Rodrick’s mind exploded.

’Murphy?’

’The Wild Wizard who crawled out of the sewers?’

’The nobody who had Anvil deliver his message?’

He subconsciously recalled what he had said in his study just a few hours ago.

"’A complete nobody I’ve never even heard of. If any Tom, Dick, or Harry wants to see me, I’m just supposed to drop everything?’"

"’If he really had any skill, wouldn’t he find a proper intermediary for an introduction?’"

"’And if he can’t even be bothered to wait one day, then he’s not worth my time.’"

Right now, those words felt like countless needles stabbing into his heart.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but not a single word would come out.

His hands began to tremble too.

Not from the cold.

But from fear.

He finally understood what Anvil had meant by "He’s not like a normal person."

He finally understood the meaning behind those eyes that "looked at everyone like they were stones."

It wasn’t indifference.

It was a gap in their very station.

It was the natural disregard a Third-Level Wizard has for any being beneath him.

Like a person walking down a road, who wouldn’t care if a stone by their feet had an opinion of them.

Because that stone could pose no threat to them whatsoever.

Rodrick stood frozen by the window.

The night wind still blew, carrying the fresh scent of grass and trees.

But he couldn’t smell it anymore.

All he could smell was an icy fear that came from the depths of his soul.