"Yang Yi? What did you do!"
Some people haven't figured out the situation yet and are questioning loudly.
And when Li Wen saw the door open, Li Wen already felt a warning sign, quietly retreated, and was quite far away from the minaret. She didn't think that Soul Lord would be able to escape the seal so smoothly. Even if he did come out, he would not be much of a threat as he had been killed once, otherwise he would not have any need to cling to the player and survive in the future. But this does not mean that there is no danger behind the door. The things inside may be more terrifying than the dead Soul Lord.
In the eyes of everyone who were either wary, ecstatic, confused, or disbelieving, the ancient spire began to disintegrate in a slow but irreversible way.
The complicated and mysterious magic runes on the surface of the tower seemed to have been erased bit by bit from the stone by an invisible hand. Starting from the base of the tower, their light dimmed and extinguished one by one, and finally disappeared into nothing, as if they had never existed. As the runes disappeared, the radiant magic barrier that enveloped the entire spire also let out a crisp cry, like broken glass, and then shattered inch by inch, turning into billions of bright light fragments that slowly dissipated in the dark seabed space.
The dissipated magic power wanders autonomously in the ruins, mixing with the ether that originally existed here to form a powerful turbulent flow of magic power.
Without the support of magic, the blue stones that made up the tower began to weather and peel off. Huge stones fell from the top of the tower, but turned into powder before they touched the ground. The whole minaret seemed to have its skeleton taken away, disintegrating layer by layer from top to bottom, and finally turned into inconspicuous debris and powder in the sky full of smoke and dust.
The square fell into a dead silence. After the smoke and dust slowly dispersed, a lonely figure was clearly revealed in everyone's field of vision.
It was a white-robed figure sitting cross-legged and meditating. He was sitting on the central base of the original minaret. His figure was haggard, as if all the flesh, flesh and water in his body had been drained by time. He was wearing a white magician's robe that was so simple that it was almost old-fashioned. There were no gorgeous patterns on the robe. Only the cuffs and collar were embroidered with faded moon arcs and morning stars with silver thread. His hands were flat on his knees, his eyes were closed, and there was no expression on his wrinkled face. If it weren't for the extremely weak ups and downs in his chest, one would almost think it was just a well-preserved mummy.
This appearance is far from the legendary image of the fierce and terrifying Soul Lord who is in charge of death.
"Who are you? Where is my great master?" Seeing the white-robed figure, the ecstasy and expectation on Joseph's face instantly solidified, replaced by a kind of extreme horror and disbelief. His scarlet eyes stared intently at the withered figure on the pedestal, and the flesh and skin on his face squirmed and changed due to the violent fluctuations in emotions.
He had been planning for decades, and had been tortured by endless curses and pain for who knows how long. Everything he did was to welcome the return of the master. But now, when the cage collapsed, what was waiting for him was not the great monarch he had been waiting for day and night, but a dying old magician who seemed to have no threat.
This huge drop from the clouds to the abyss almost completely destroyed his sanity.
Yang Yi, who had created all this, first looked at the old man excitedly, thinking that he had finally become something big. Even if it was in a game, it would be enough for him to brag about for a long time.
But soon, this short-lived and illusory sense of accomplishment was shattered by the cold reality. He suddenly realized something was wrong. The voice that had been ringing in his mind, the voice that kept giving him instructions and promising him supreme power and glory, seemed to have disappeared without a trace from the moment the spire collapsed, leaving only a deathly, heart-stopping silence.
"Hello? Are you there? Answer me quickly!"
"Come out! Didn't you say you would give me power when things are done? Where is my mission reward?"
No matter how anxiously Yang Yi asked, called, or even begged with a hint of crying, the voice in his mind no longer responded. The enthusiasm and excitement on his face quickly faded, replaced by a kind of bone-chilling coldness and fear, and his face was as pale as a dead person.
Amid the chaos of the spiers collapsing, only one man remains steadfast in his goal.
Spade K's eyes quickly swept over the old magician, and the greedy light in his eyes did not dissipate at all due to this sudden change. He doesn't care about Soul Lord or who this old man is. In his eyes, this is just an elite monster or NPC guarding the treasure chest. He only cares about the sole purpose of his trip.
"Hey! Old man!" He shouted at the figure on the pedestal at the top of his lungs, his tone full of impatience and natural demands, "Where is the artifact used for sealing? It's that very powerful treasure. Hand it over quickly!"
After hearing this, the haggard figure who had been sitting here for countless years finally made a move. His eyelids, which were like dry tree bark, trembled slightly, and then he slowly opened his eyes.
They were a pair of turbid, tired, yet profound eyes that seemed to contain the entire starry sky and endless years.
When he opened his eyes, the turbulence of magic power caused by the collapse of the spire around him strangely subsided. His eyes calmly swept over everyone in the square, including the crazy Joseph, the extremely anxious and pale Yang Yi, the greedy Spade K, and the always vigilant Li Wen and Moria, finally, his eyes fell on the whirring Spade K, and finally there was a very light arc on the face of Gujing Wubo, full of ridicule and exhaustion.
"Seal? Artifact?"
His voice has a peculiar rhythm. Although it is dry and weak, it can be clearly heard in everyone's ears.
"There's never been anything like that."
The old magician slowly stood up. His skinny body seemed to be shaking a little under the wide white robe, as if he would be blown down by a breeze at any time. However, the abyss of magic that was as deep as the sea gradually emanated from him, making it impossible for anyone to despise him. It was a pure, formidable power that belonged to the caster.
"For these hundred years, I have been the seal, and this place has been the cage."
He raised his hand that looked like a dead branch and pointed at the ruins at his feet, and the sneer at the corner of his mouth deepened.
"Let me guess, if you are here, you must have believed in that woman Sivell who is full of lies, right?"