Wizard Lord:I can Extract Anything

Under the control of the World Mushroom, the captured insects lost all ability to resist, left only to watch Richard in silence. As a chosen one, Insect Inhart had learned the wizard's language and fully understood Richard's intentions.

"Specimen? Wizard, do you think this will scare me?" Insect Inhart said fearlessly.

The Mother Insect God's chosen weren't picked randomly; each was marked by unwavering faith in Her. If Richard thought he could intimidate Inhart as he might a common warrior insect, he was mistaken.

Unfortunately for Inhart, Richard wasn't trying to scare him.

"Scare you? Why would I do that?" Richard smiled wickedly, pulling a runic scalpel from his pocket.

"I'm not trying to scare you."

Richard's scalpel hovered over Inhart, its sharpness enough to make him shudder.

What a terrifyingly sharp instrument.

"Ulysses, you said that as long as this insect isn't killed, the Mother Insect God won't turn Her gaze here, right?" Richard asked.

"Caw, theoretically, yes. But even if you kill him, She can't see you through the secret realm. At most, She'll glance at where he disappeared," Ulysses replied nonchalantly.

Richard rubbed his chin. "Still, a bit risky. Let's avoid killing him for now.

World Mushroom, can you keep this insect alive during the dissection?"

"No problem, Master. If you want to hear screams, I can make him more sensitive to pain."

Richard's lip twitched at the suggestion, declining it.

"Help me anesthetize him. I don't want him moving while I examine his structure."

"As you wish."

The World Mushroom formed an operating table from mycelium, securing Inhart at its center. The mushroom's anesthetic kept Inhart in a bizarre state of awareness—able to see Richard's actions but unable to move.

The World Mushroom seized any chance to inflict malice upon the Black Crystal Insects.

Richard retrieved his surgical tools. Though scalpels are the most recognized tool, dissection involves many instruments.

Peeling back the carapace and slicing through the skin, Richard's practiced hands revealed Inhart's inner workings.

Throughout, Inhart barely bled.

Inhart remained conscious throughout, feeling the scalpel's icy blade glide over his flesh, exposing the tender tissue hidden beneath his shell.

This excruciating process was torturous.

He felt like a toy, his body manipulated at Richard's whim, powerless to stop it.

While Inhart suffered, Richard was absorbed in the pursuit of knowledge, oblivious to the insect's awareness.

Before becoming a chosen one, Inhart was a second-tier priest insect. A priest insect's anatomy and energy cycles undergo significant changes upon reaching second-tier.

These changes were intricate yet inexplicable in parts.

Richard marveled at the wonders of life and the peculiarities of evolution, preserving every trait not detrimental to survival.

The dissection lasted a long time. With the World Mushroom supplying life force and Richard's skill, Inhart emerged from the ordeal without weakness, seemingly invigorated.

"Caw, being chosen is lucky," Ulysses remarked from Richard's shoulder.

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"Caw, out of billions of Black Crystal Insects and millions of priest insects, he was picked as chosen by the old insect. Isn't that lucky?" Ulysses explained. "In our domain, chosen ones are also called protagonists, beings with great fortune."

"Protagonist?" Richard raised an eyebrow. "You believe in such superstitions?"

In many stories, protagonists are the luckiest, encountering fortune and surviving danger.

But in a wizard's understanding, luck doesn't exist, only probability.

Protagonists, in a wizard's view, are just special probability clusters within endless possibilities.

"Caw, even the God-King believes it. How could I not? Besides, this insect survived in your hands and is doing well—another sign of fortune."

Richard scoffed, "That's because the Mother Insect God is alive. If She weren't, he'd be preserved in formaldehyde by now."

"Caw, but he's alive now, and much can change before that happens. You might not want to make him a specimen; you might take him as an underling or something else."

Richard dismissed Ulysses's words as absurd. Why would he make a good specimen an underling?

After the dissection, Inhart bore only a few stitches, physically unharmed.

Yet the psychological toll was immense.

Once able to move, Inhart's eyes welled with thick liquid, his lips whispering the Mother Insect God's name in anguish and confusion.

It was his only solace against the mental torment.

"Caw, Richard, you haven't asked how these insects tracked us," Ulysses suddenly reminded. "We've been hounded all the way here. There must be a reason."

Richard nodded, realizing Ulysses made a valid point. Enthralled by the secret realm's changes, he'd overlooked this.

But now he faced a dilemma.

This insect was clearly strong-willed; physical torture likely ineffective.

And Richard wasn't a soul wizard, lacking methods to probe souls.

While contemplating interrogation methods, Inhart spoke.

"You took the High Priest's statue. Its faith energy led us to you."

"Huh!?" Richard was surprised by Inhart's cooperation.

He pulled out the statue, scolding Ulysses:

"Ulysses, how come you know less about faith energy than a native?"

"Caw, I don't recall faith energy being used for tracking."

Ulysses was puzzled. As part of the divine civilization, he was well-versed in faith energy applications, unaware of this basic use.

Circling the statue, he landed atop it. As he recollected, a searing soul pain halted his thoughts, unfamiliar memories flashing past.

"Caw! Some memories are blocked by my injury!" Ulysses exclaimed painfully.

Initially, upon entering the wizarding world, Ulysses thought he was lucky to retain memories despite severe soul injuries.

Now he realized he hadn't retained them—he was simply unaware of their absence.

As the pain subsided, Ulysses angrily kicked the statue.

"Caw, damn thing. Knowing this earlier would have saved us trouble."

Richard asked with concern, "Are you okay?"

"Caw, fine. Soul injuries can cause memory loss, but it's not a big deal. Memories will return once healed," Ulysses assured.

Richard nodded, then tasked him.

"Good. I need this statue cut into pieces."

"...Caw, suddenly I have a problem. This is an Orichalcum statue. How am I supposed to scratch it open with my claws?"

Ignoring Ulysses's grumbling, Richard turned to Inhart.

"Seems you have something to say."

Inhart regarded Richard, trembling yet firm:

"Kill me, you demon!"

Richard, puzzled, glanced at the World Mushroom behind Inhart.

"What did you do to him, World Mushroom?"

"Nothing, Master. I anaesthetized his pain as you wished, but kept him conscious."

"...Don't do that again."

"As you wish."

Despite Inhart's request, Richard didn't oblige. The World Mushroom's anesthetic sent him into a genuine slumber.

Inhart wouldn't die before the insect world war ended.

With Inhart dealt with, Richard rested, meditated, then feasted on Aldo mushrooms.

After the second Aldo mushroom, the effect on his body slightly diminished.

This was normal.

The body adapts to stimuli until it no longer affects cells.

Richard planned to stay in the secret realm. The hive environment was dire, and insect hunts for wizards intense.

Leaving now meant being hunted like a rat, unlike the comfort of the secret realm.

Besides, even if the command inquired, he had an excuse.

Wizards in the hive had suffered heavy losses; escaping the insects was fortunate enough. Reckless action would be foolhardy.

...

Time flew by, and Richard spent nearly a year in the secret realm.

In that year, his constitution steadily rose to 99.9, though Aldo mushrooms became ineffective. He also dissected the four Mother Insect Guards, gaining deeper insights into that branch.

Moreover, the realm expanded by fifty square meters, its height rising ten meters, continuing to grow at five square meters per month.

The Orichalcum statue was fully disassembled by Ulysses, with Richard extracting its faith energy. The Orichalcum was integrated into his staff—not for lack of desire to make armor, but insufficient materials.

With preparations complete, Richard reopened the secret realm, returning to the insect hive.

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