Wizard Lord:I can Extract Anything

In Richard's account, the Mother God Temple rescue operation was a failed mission marred by the puppet wizard's personal agenda. Although Richard speculated that the puppet wizard might have been deceived, his use of the rescue as a facade for his true objectives was undeniable.

Richard recounted his observations, avoiding personal bias and unsupported speculation, focusing solely on what he had witnessed.

After he finished, the white wizard commander placed the crystal ball into a bag and handed it to an accompanying white wizard, instructing with grave urgency, "Get this message to the command center immediately. It must be quick!"

He then ordered another white wizard, "Transmit the news to the command center using the emergency communication channel!"

This dual method of transmitting information, involving both physical and telepathic channels, was second only to the highest priority in wartime communications. Physical transmission served as a failsafe against misjudgments by commanders and as a record.

Witnessing the commander's urgency, Richard was puzzled.

A year had passed; surely some wizards had escaped the underground hive?

Hundreds had broken through; it was improbable that none had emerged, all remaining in the hive to continue their missions.

Reflecting on this, Richard felt a twinge of embarrassment.

After issuing the orders, the white wizard commander extended his hand to Richard.

"I am Ivan, commander of War Fortress 372 in the Third War Zone."

Richard shook his hand. "I am Richard, a black wizard infiltrator from Hive 12."

...

From Ivan, Richard learned that in the past year, the border had been eerily calm, with no black wizards emerging from the underground hive.

According to Ivan, Richard's experience was significant enough for black wizards to withdraw from the hive, dismissing any notion of these being minor incidents unworthy of concern.

"In fact, I have a theory," Ivan said gravely. "Those wizards might have been forced into dormancy."

"Dormancy?" Richard asked, puzzled.

"Master, aren't you familiar with dormancy?" Ivan was surprised. This master, with such robust vitality, clearly a physique-evolved powerhouse with a constitution over ninety, should have experienced at least two planar wars.

Richard awkwardly smiled. "This is my first planar war; there are many things I don't know. Please forgive my ignorance, Master."

"Hiss..." Ivan gasped.

A first-time participant, a student soldier, with such strength and capability?

Was this guy a personal student of a grand wizard or the heir of a wizarding family?

Ivan shook his head, dismissing the absurd notion, and explained dormancy to Richard.

"Dormancy occurs under overwhelming force, where a wizard temporarily ceases activity, abandoning all magical connections, becoming effectively unreachable, even by command.

After dormancy, a wizard must provide a reasonable explanation and evidence to the command center.

Failure to do so results in the forfeiture of all planar war gains and a fine for passive conduct."

Richard nodded thoughtfully. "If those wizards went dormant, it might suggest..."

He glanced at Ivan, hesitant to continue.

Ivan nodded. "There could be a traitor among the wizards, possibly the puppet wizard.

Of course, it might not be that severe; maybe the wizard was simply soul-devoured."

Richard's lips twitched.

To the command center, perhaps, but for the puppet wizard, it was far from trivial.

"Regardless, it doesn't concern us much," Ivan reassured, patting Richard's shoulder. "We'll conduct a check on you to ensure you're free of parasites, then you can return to the rear.

Get some rest after leaving that hellhole."

After the inspection, Richard promptly left War Fortress 372, heading to the rear.

Upon arriving at the Floating City Fortress, the command center immediately summoned him.

"Wizard Richard, the command center requests your presence."

Three logistics wizards stood before him. Once Richard agreed, they escorted him to the most secretive part of the Floating City—the Command Tower.

...

The Command Tower, the heart of the Floating Fortress and the planar war's command center, was heavily fortified.

Before entering, Richard underwent another full-body scan to confirm he carried no parasites and his soul remained a wizard's.

Inside, the tower was bustling. The second to fifth floors lacked private rooms, consisting entirely of open halls.

These floors housed the lower command centers.

The wizarding front was vast, each line of defense comprising over a thousand Type One war fortresses and hundreds of Type Two fortresses. These fortresses relayed every insect movement to the lower command centers, which filtered the information before passing it to the middle command center.

Passing through the lower command center, Richard reached the middle command center, responsible for further filtering and compiling reports for the high command—the same level Richard interacted with during the Battle of Black Bone Plains.

The middle command center occupied only one floor. Beyond it, Richard faced a black door.

His logistics wizard escorts halted again.

"Wizard Richard, beyond this door is the command center."

Richard shivered at the sight of the black door.

Behind it lay the war's power hub, issuing orders that led to the deaths of thousands of wizards, but also inflicted tenfold or hundredfold casualties on the insects.

Pushing open the door revealed an ordinary scene.

Dozens of third-circle wizards sat behind desks, receiving messages via crystal balls, compiling and discussing them, before converting them into directives.

"Oh, a familiar face."

Among them, a black-robed wizard sipping tea stood out.

Seeing Richard enter, he beckoned him over.

"I remember you, Richard, right? Jolord's student."

Richard bowed deeply. "Hello, Dean."

"Ah! Very good, clever," the High Mage of Black Tower remarked to the surrounding third-circle wizards. "Calling me Dean works much better here than Commander."

Richard's forehead beaded with sweat. In a planar war, addressing someone as Dean implied familiarity.

But he hadn't thought much, instinctively calling the High Mage of Black Tower Dean.

"Relax, young one," the High Mage reassured, sipping his tea. "There's nothing wrong with calling me Dean. We've received your report, but we need to confirm a few details."

The High Mage waved, and a familiar figure approached Richard.

"Suzanne, clarify the details. Thousands of black wizards dead is no small matter; I must report to the council."

With that, Richard's surroundings transformed into an enclosed room, resembling an interrogation chamber.

Suzanne sat on one side, a desk before her, an empty metal chair opposite.

She gestured for Richard to sit.

The metal chair was hard and cold, sending a chill from Richard's tailbone to his head upon sitting.

The sensation calmed his nerves.

"The chair has inscribed spells, likely soul school mechanical mind control," Richard surmised.

Once seated, Suzanne began questioning him.

Richard knew Suzanne, Ellie's mentor, from his apprentice days.

Suzanne, though temperamental, cared for her students, and Richard, as Ellie's lover, had never faced her ire.

"Name." "Richard."

"Power level." "First circle."

"Mission." "Infiltrate Hive 12."

"Recount your description from the war fortress."

...

After questioning, Richard anxiously watched Suzanne, uncertain of the outcome.

Although his account was truthful, he had obscured many details about Ulysses, making it difficult to answer probing questions.

Suzanne glanced at him. "It's fine; this is routine for major intelligence reports.

Also, don't worry about Ellie. I made her a life box, and it hasn't activated, so she's likely fine."

Relief washed over Richard, easing his worries.

Ellie's situation had weighed heavily on him; knowing she was safe lightened his burden.

Suzanne clapped, and they returned to the command room. The High Mage took Suzanne's notes, glanced at them, and waved Richard off.

"All done. Someone will contact you about the intelligence reward. Prepare yourself; the insect counterattack is imminent."

Richard bowed to the High Mage and exited the room.

After the door closed, the High Mage addressed his student.

"Little Suzanne, this boy is a first-circle wizard, right? And has ties to that student."

"Yes, Master."

The High Mage sipped his tea, smiling at Suzanne's notes.

"A first-circle wizard achieving this is remarkable. Assign him a relatively safe task. He's from our academy; he might join this command room one day."

...

Leaving the Command Tower, Richard headed to Jolord's synthetic beast factory.

"You need active flesh?" Jolord asked, rubbing his temples.

"Yes."

Richard stood across from Jolord, nervous.

Ulysses's body required vast amounts of active flesh, far beyond what Richard's flesh tendril could produce.

After some thought, Jolord asked, "How much? The insects are about to counterattack; active flesh isn't as readily available as before."

Richard nodded. "Not much, just a hundred kilograms."

Jolord exhaled, taking a magic pouch from his belt and handing it to Richard.

"Sigh, take a bit more."

Sensing something amiss, Richard cautiously inquired, "Teacher, is something troubling you?"

"...Nothing. Your brother Eric died a month ago."

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