Magic Jar

A cold wind howled, and sunlight shone through thin clouds onto the white ice field, its brilliance almost blinding.

The mountains rise and fall, and shrouded in layers of shadow, a pitch-black tower stands deep within them. Its sharp spires, like straight claws, point directly at the sky, as if about to tear the heavens apart, sending chills down one's spine.

This is the Polar Night Demon Tower.

At this moment, Steamed Bun and his two companions were at the very bottom of the Demon Tower.

The Born Battle Maniac led them to the depths of the secret chamber and activated the mechanism.

"I fought my way in and found this thing here."

It was a strange pot with a ferocious dragon head at the mouth. Countless soft howls and wailing sounds came from inside the pot, as if countless souls were bound inside, struggling in pain, and there was also some kind of deeply hidden laughter.

Singo examined the pot closely, seemingly trying to discover some clue.

"This thing looks familiar."

Steamed Bun walked straight up and said, "This looks like Magic Equipment. Maybe it's some kind of Soul Refining Banner. Anyway, you guys watch from the side, I'll go get it and take a look."

Singo suddenly remembered something and quickly stopped him, saying, "Wait—"

What did you say?

Steamed Bun had already placed both hands on the teapot and was now turning his head to look at Singo with a puzzled expression.

"It's nothing serious, why are you so nervous?"

However, the next moment, his eyes rolled back, then turned into eerie vertical pupils, brimming with fanaticism.

The phantom-like figure flew out of the pot and rushed directly into the mouth and nose of the Steamed Bun.

[Demon Soul Pot]

This is the infamous sixth-circle necromancy spell. The Magic Jar acts as a vessel for souls. Once a soul comes into contact with the Magic Jar, it possesses the host, seizing control of the host's body and trapping the host's soul within the jar. The possessed creature's soul can perceive its environment through its own senses, but it cannot move or take any action.

"Steamed Bun" lowered its head and stroked its body, its claws gently caressing every inch of the Half-Dragon's scales and every muscle, a look of utter ecstasy on its face.

"Ah, what an exquisitely beautiful body."

"A perfect, aftereffect-free bloodline fusion, the flames and power of the Red Dragon. In my nearly 100 years of experiments, I have never had such a perfect sample. Fortunately, I left a wisp of my soul here to guard against these shameful thieves."

Singo asked coldly, "If you're not him, then who are you?"

The Born Battle Maniac gripped his battle axe tightly, veins bulging on his arm, ready to unleash his berserk mode at any moment.

They all knew in their hearts that the Steamed Bun had probably been possessed by the boss.

But the "Steamed Bun" ignored this and continued to revel in its new container, exclaiming as if reciting a poem. "What kind of power is this? If I'm not mistaken, the owner of this body—that Red Dragon —is definitely an even greater creation. How fascinating!"

Only then did he notice the two people in front of him.

Although it still had the face of Steamed Bun, its red vertical pupils stared intently at the two of them, making their hair stand on end.

"Ah, two more valuable samples. Today is truly a fruitful day."

The entity occupying the Steamed Bun bun bowed slightly, offering a very polite greeting.

"Oh, right, I forgot to introduce myself. I am a wizard, an artist, and a follower of dragons. You can call me by my former name as a mortal— Wagnerd."

"We'll probably be spending a lot of time together from now on."

Wagnerd grinned, revealing a chilling smile.

The Dragon Mad Black Wizard Wagnerd, a mortal who was once captured by the Dragon Cult, went completely mad after witnessing his wife being eaten as a sacrifice.

He relentlessly pursued the power of dragons, even turning his own daughter into a monster, and raising countless dragon-like monsters in the tower, including a genuine White Dragon.

Unlike the Dragon Cult, Wagnerd's worship of dragons was not like that of the Dragon Cult, where evil dragons were served as gods. He only worshipped the dragons' great power. For this power, he created powerful spells to trap dragons, and even went so far as to abandon his beloved daughter, using her as a lowly sample to experiment on wantonly.

"Oh? Wait a minute, my dear experimental subject is still questioning me!"

"I never expected that someone with Red Dragon blood would say something like that."

Wagnerd brought his ear close to the Demon Soul Pot, seemingly listening intently.

The soul of the Steamed Bun was indignantly cursing him, calling him a beast who used his daughter as an experimental subject.

As a player, the Steamed Bun who had his body taken away was very angry, but not afraid, since he could revive and at worst lose some experience and start over.

"You fucking beast! You can even do this to your own daughter! You deserve to be..."

Upon hearing the Steamed Bun's insults, Wagnerd actually chuckled.

You mean my daughter?

"I love her very much. I have given her the best of everything. It's just that her bloodline is too inferior, and she has failed to live up to my expectations."

"She refused to accept the great evolution, and I had no choice but to replace her arms, torso, and legs with the best dragon-like organs."

"Look at those scales, that surging dragon blood, those powerful muscles. Aren't they tens of thousands of times stronger than her original fragile body? She is now my most satisfying work, more perfect than all my previous works."

As he spoke, Wagnerd's tone became increasingly infatuated.

"Whoosh—"

Taking advantage of Wagnerd's momentary lapse in concentration, Single launched a sneak attack, marking Wagnerd's head with the Hunter Mark, and then firing an arrow.

But a dark magical field appeared on Wagnerd's body, easily turning the arrow into fragments.

"This is the body of your companion."

"If this part of my soul dissipates, his body will also die, and your companion will be trapped in the Magic Jar forever."

However, the Born Battle Maniac roared furiously and charged forward, leaping down with his battle axe.

"Go to hell!"

"Completely disregarding the life or death of the body's original owner? How interesting."

Wagnerd's eyes gleamed with amusement, and his gaze became hollow, like a deep black hole, as if filled with the energy of fear.

[Eyebite]

A black light flashed.

After a brief eye contact with him, the Born Battle Maniac fell into a deep sleep, lying on the cold ground.

Singo was caught off guard and was struck by the spell.

However, the needle with its built-in trigger plunged hard into the back of his neck, abruptly waking him from his unconscious state.

That was a device he had specially commissioned the Church of the Machine God to create, specifically to deal with this kind of special situation, and to automatically wake him up when it detected that he had fallen into a coma.

"Oh?"

"An interesting little thing."

Wagnerd grinned, and his eyes flashed with crimson magical light once more.

Dominate Person

His lips trembled slightly, but he didn't utter a sound; the command had already been given.

Singo suddenly felt a powerful mental force controlling him, leaving him no room for resistance.

Although it was only a fragment of the Black Wizard's soul, its powerful spiritual energy, accumulated over a hundred years, was as deep as an abyss, leaving the novice player utterly powerless.