Wizard: My Skills Can Infinitely Break Through

Chapter 185: Chapter 183: Crystal Silk Thread

"I absolutely have to go to the Sleeping Underground Palace."

This was crucial to Ian’s long-term plan of communicating with the Otherworld. He had researched the Void Anchor Stone extensively but still had no leads.

The main materials for an Abyssal Altar were the Abyssal Rune Stone and the Void Anchor Stone, especially the latter.

Without it to stabilize the turbulence of the Void, the faint signals sent from the altar would be easily disrupted.

If he became powerful enough in the future, he could perhaps rely on his formidable Spiritual Will and build just a simple altar.

But right now, he was just a Level One Wizard, far from reaching such a profound Realm.

’I have three months to prepare. It’s a bit tight, but it’ll be enough.’

He needed to raise his Skill Level for the Gravity Collapse Ball as quickly as possible and push his Furnace Body Tempering Skill to the peak of the Skilled level.

He also had to prepare more Blood Essence for Gaga. He owed a great deal to it for what happened last time.

Inside the Alchemy Room, heavy curtains blocked out the light.

Ian sat cross-legged in the center of the Isolation Array and took a metal box from his Dimension Ring.

The box was cool to the touch, its surface engraved with Runes to suppress energy fluctuations.

He opened the lid. The inside was lined with black velvet, upon which rested an eyeball.

The Eye of the Gazer.

The eyeball’s surface was no longer moist. It had a dry, ashen color, as if coated in a layer of dust.

The once-plump orb had slightly deflated, and the strange, intricate patterns on its iris had grown dim and blurred.

Only in the very depths of the pupil remained a speck of gold the size of a needle’s point.

That spot of gold was faint, yet it shone with a stubborn light, like the last ember in the wind.

’After absorbing its power for so long, this is all that’s left.’

Ian reached out with two fingers and picked up the feathery-light eyeball.

It felt like dry leather, with a slightly gritty texture.

’Those people from the Withered Council... chasing Hector’s trail, swarming like hyenas that have scented blood... all for this?’

He brought the eyeball closer, carefully examining the golden point at its core.

He extended a tendril of his Spiritual Power. The moment it touched the golden point, his mind went BUZZ.

It wasn’t a sharp pain, nor was it a throbbing ache, but rather...

The sensation of being ’pricked’ by a cold Energy, one that was pure and condensed to its absolute limit.

It was incredibly sharp.

This was different from the gentle essence he had been absorbing before.

’I’ve nearly absorbed all the essence. My progress has been really fast.’

Ian glanced at the data on his status panel.

Name: Ian Marcus

Age: 18

Realm: Level One Wizard, Initial Stage (29.5%)

Since returning from the Withered Forest, by relying on Meditation and slowly digesting the eyeball’s Energy, his Spiritual Power had swelled like an inflating balloon.

He was on the verge of breaking through the barrier into the Middle Stage.

He was just one final step away.

’But if this is all there is to it, would the Withered Council really send a Steward to investigate? Would they persist even after three core members died? Would they even dispatch the Curse Bearer squad?’

Ian shook his head. He tightened his grip, his nails digging into the eyeball’s shriveled skin.

’No, that old fox Hector must have known more.’

’This thing’s... true value must be hidden in this final ’core’.’

He recalled the High Tier materials on Spiritual Power he had read in the library.

For a Level One Wizard, the progression of Spiritual Power from Vaporization to Liquefaction is a matter of quantitative accumulation and a preliminary qualitative change.

The most significant hallmark of a Level Two Wizard, however, is Crystalization.

Spiritual Power condenses into a tangible Crystal. It is a qualitative leap, another metamorphosis on the hierarchy of life.

For one thing, their lifespan alone could extend for a millennium.

Then there was their most iconic form of attack: the Crystal Silk Thread.

Formless and intangible, it directly attacks the Will and Soul—the greatest nightmare of any Low Level Wizard.

’Could it be...?’ A thought struck Ian’s mind like a bolt of lightning.

His heart leaped. His gaze, fixed on the golden core, grew fervent.

’This last bit... it isn’t essence. It’s... a seed of Crystalized Spiritual Power?’

He hesitated no longer. His Spiritual Power formed into the most delicate of Tentacles.

Carefully, as if using a scalpel to dissect the most precise of instruments, he pierced the eyeball’s dry outer shell and probed toward the golden core, bit by bit.

POP.

An extremely faint, crisp sound, perceptible only to the spirit.

The golden core was touched, but no massive torrent of Energy gushed forth.

There was only a single thread... finer than a strand of hair, so condensed it was almost invisible. A thin, golden line drifted slowly along Ian’s Spiritual Tentacle toward him.

The moment this thread appeared, the very air in the Alchemy Room seemed to "heavy."

It wasn’t a matter of weight, but a sense of oppression in its very "quality."

A few scattered pieces of parchment on the desk stirred without any wind, their edges beginning to fray as if sliced by an invisible blade.

In the shadows of a corner, Gaga, who had been napping and digesting its Blood Essence, awoke with a jolt, all of its feathers standing on end.

Its small eyes were filled with terror as it stared fixedly at Ian’s hand, a low growl rumbling in its throat.

Ian had no time for Gaga.

His entire focus was captivated by the drifting golden thread.

It was exquisite.

Pure and translucent, it looked as if it had been spun from the finest molten gold Crystal.

The fluctuations it emanated were cold and stable, yet they carried the oppressive aura of a High Tier life form looking down from above.

Merely being "watched" by it caused Ian to feel a faint tremor in his Sea of Spirit.

It was the instinctive "reverence" a Low Tier Life form feels when faced with a High Tier existence.

’It really is... Crystalized Spiritual Power!’

And it’s an absorbable form, completely free of any spiritual brand.

Ian took a deep breath, suppressing the elation and shock in his heart.

He knew he had struck gold.

This was the true treasure—the one the Withered Council was hunting, the one Hector had obsessed over, and the one he might have died for.

It wasn’t the eyeball’s "function" of rapidly increasing Spiritual Power, but this "Crystalized Core" hidden deep within!

’If I absorb this, my Sea of Spirit... will gain a partial Crystallization Attribute!’

At this thought, Ian’s breathing grew heavier.

A Level One Wizard possessing a trait that only Level Two Wizards should have?

What did that even mean?

This wasn’t just an increase in the total volume of his Spiritual Power. This was touching upon the very essence of life from a higher dimension ahead of schedule!

It was a shortcut to a higher plane of existence!

’Come on.’

Ian’s gaze hardened, and he stopped hesitating.

He opened his "mouth"—not his physical one, but his Sea of Spirit, from which he emitted the strongest possible "Suction."

Simultaneously, he guided the thread of golden Crystalization to flow slowly toward the center of his forehead.

When the thread touched the skin between his eyebrows, there was no physical sensation.

Instead, it felt like a red-hot needle gently "piercing" its way inside.

"HISS!"

Ian sucked in a sharp breath.

Agony! An indescribable, agonizing pain!

It wasn’t just physical. It was the pain of his Soul being torn asunder, only to have a higher existence forcibly shoved into it!

His consciousness went blank. He saw stars, and his ears filled with a piercing ringing.

His body convulsed uncontrollably. The veins beneath his skin bulged, as if countless tiny worms were burrowing through them.

He clenched his jaw so tightly that his gums began to bleed, and a low, beast-like growl escaped his throat.

Sweat poured from his every pore like a waterfall, instantly drenching the rug beneath him.

’I can’t stop!’

’This is the price of metamorphosis, the only path to greater Power!’

He frantically activated the Furnace Body Tempering Skill, using his formidable physique to stabilize his nearly collapsing body.

He guided it with all his Spiritual Power, acting like the most precise helmsman navigating a violent torrent of Energy.

He dragged the golden thread, bit by painful bit, into the depths of his Sea of Spirit.

Inside his Sea of Spirit, the once-calm, silvery-gray Spiritual Power now churned violently, as if a great boulder had been cast into a placid lake.

The moment the golden thread entered, it was like a drop of thick, golden ink in water, and it began to slowly and irresistibly "bleed" outward.

It was too condensed.

His own liquefied Spiritual Power, though condensed to its limit, was "assimilated" and "compressed" the moment it drew near...

Its structure was forcibly altered, stained with the faintest golden sheen.

The process was accompanied by an unbearable, splitting pain, as if his entire head were about to burst.

Time trickled by.

Ian didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been an instant; it could have been an eternity.

He focused his entire Will on resisting the pain and guiding the fusion.

Finally...

The golden thread completely merged into the center of his Sea of Spirit and vanished.

But the changes it wrought were incredibly clear.

The roiling Sea of Spirit gradually calmed, but its color had changed.

It was no longer a pure, silvery gray. Instead, in the most central and condensed area of the mist, it was now flecked with countless, minuscule golden specks of light, imperceptible to the naked eye.

These specks were like stars, emitting a faint but steady, crystalline luster.

The very "texture" of his entire Sea of Spirit seemed to have ascended a level.

It was "heavier" and more "resilient." It circulated more smoothly, and his Perception was clearer and more acute.

The most wondrous part was that Ian felt his "vision" had changed.

It wasn’t what his eyes saw, but the world as "seen" by his spirit.

He could "feel" the subtlest fluctuations of free-roaming Energy in the air. He could "touch" the flowing trajectories of Energy within the Runes of the Array beneath him.

He could even faintly "hear" the nervous beat of Gaga’s heart and the weak fluctuations emanating from its Soul in the corner.

’So this is... a Sea of Spirit with a trace of the Crystallization Attribute?’

Ian slowly opened his eyes.

Deep within his pupils, an extremely faint glint of gold flashed and vanished.

He summoned his status panel.

Name: Ian Marcus

Age: 18

Realm: Level One Wizard (Middle Stage 38.1%)

He had broken through! Not only had he entered the Middle Stage, but he had jumped straight to 38.1%!

But more importantly...

With a flicker of intent, Ian focused his mind on his eyes.

He could feel the golden specks of light at the core of his Sea of Spirit being mobilized.

A thread of imperceptible, intangible, yet very real "Power" gathered in his pupils.

He looked at an experimental platform three meters away. On it stood a Fine Iron Puppet, a target used for testing the strength of Witchcraft.

His gaze focused.

PFFT!

It was a soft sound, so faint it was almost inaudible.

A hole smaller than a pinprick silently appeared in the very center of the Fine Iron Puppet’s forehead.

The edges of the hole were smooth, showing no signs of scorching from high temperatures or any deformation of the Metal.

It was as if it had been created with that tiny hole already in it.

But inside the puppet, the few simple Rune Nodes used to simulate its Energy Circuits instantly dimmed and shattered.

Ian walked over and touched the hole with his finger. It was ice-cold.

He probed it with his Spiritual Power. The faintest trace of "activity," or "spirituality," that had remained within the puppet was now completely gone.

’Ignores physical and Energy defenses... attacks the Soul and consciousness directly...’

Ian repeated the description from the records in a low voice, a powerful surge of excitement and fighting spirit welling up within him.

He licked his chapped lips, his eyes glinting sharply.

’So this is the Crystal Silk Thread... Even a mere trace of its attribute is this terrifying.’