Wizard Lord:I can Extract Anything

"You can fix it?" Lawrence exclaimed in surprise. "Then hurry, without this thing's firepower, we'll have to handle hundreds of insects ourselves."

He glanced at the crystal ball, his expression turning grim.

"Damn, all the nearby black wizards are busy dealing with insects. Several cannons are in this situation, and everyone's calling for support."

These magic stone cannons were brought back from the front lines, and after high-intensity use, they inevitably developed hidden issues. These issues might not be noticeable during regular use, but they could become fatal at critical moments.

Richard didn't waste words. He tucked the magic component under his robe and extracted the skill from it.

A white glow appeared on the furnace, which Richard absorbed. Instantly, a series of visions unfolded before him. Various wizards had left deep imprints on the component using the same skill. The Miracle Furnace refined these, stripping away impurities and leaving only the most refined techniques, which then merged into Richard's soul.

Moments later, Richard opened his eyes, retrieving a black slate, a bottle of ink, and a quill from his pocket.

Using the quill, he drew a simple alchemical array on the slate. He placed the magic component within, then infused the array with magic, channeling his mind into it to begin reshaping the magic circuits.

The biggest challenge in reshaping magic circuits is multitasking and parallel processing. Some wizards can master this with practice, while others struggle with it for a lifetime.

Within the alchemical array, the magic component began to change. Scratches faded, and its dull surface regained its luster.

Tiny silver lines spread from the component's base, enveloping it like a dendrogram.

At that moment, Ivan returned with a white-robed wizard.

This white-robed wizard exuded power—an experienced second-circle wizard, his long white beard, deep wrinkles, and decaying life aura indicating vast experience.

"Master, this is the..."

Ivan began, but the old wizard silenced him with a hand over his mouth.

He pointed at Richard, who was reshaping the magic circuits, communicating telepathically:

"Kid, can't you see someone's working?"

Seconds later, Richard opened his eyes and reinstalled the component into the magic stone cannon.

Turning, he saw an old wizard watching him.

Without a word, the old wizard approached the cannon, removed Richard's component, and inspected it.

"Ivan, this is our regiment's equipment chief, Master Vladimir," Ivan introduced.

The old wizard finished his inspection, reinserted the component, and pulled a rune-covered metal part from his magic pocket, placing it in the cannon along with a metal ingot.

What followed was beyond Richard's comprehension.

The old wizard didn't draw any alchemical array. With a surge of internal magic, the metal ingot rapidly transformed in his hands, becoming several metal parts. Runes even sprouted on their surfaces.

To Richard, this was nothing short of miraculous.

Was alchemy capable of this?

After installing the parts, the old wizard infused the cannon with magic. As a magical wave resonated through the rune parts, he turned to Ivan:

"Done, it's fixed."

Then he approached Richard, scrutinizing him with a near-evaluative gaze.

"Black wizard, your teacher is Jolord, right?"

Richard hesitated, then nodded.

The old wizard snorted. "Only that old fossil Jolord at Black Tower Wizard Academy would teach his students such antiquated techniques. Drawing alchemical arrays on the battlefield with a slate? Isn't he afraid of being laughed at?"

Richard felt a bit miffed. Though uncertain of the old wizard's relationship with his teacher, the snide tone was irritating.

He was about to retort when the old wizard produced a crystal ball and a magical scroll from his pocket.

"Kid, I'm conscripting you temporarily. This is my authorization scroll."

He handed the crystal ball to Richard. "This contains my introduction to battlefield alchemy. Learn it quickly. And tell your teacher—learning a bit of alchemical mechanics won't kill him. It's ridiculous that he refuses to learn even basic stuff that apprentices know."

Richard's demeanor shifted to seriousness. Despite the old wizard's gruff tone, his willingness to share knowledge earned Richard's respect.

Infusing his mind into the crystal ball, a wealth of information surged into Richard's consciousness.

The information was vast but foundational. Much of it Richard had learned from Jolord. However, the old wizard's organization and additions linked seemingly unrelated knowledge, greatly enhancing Richard's understanding of alchemy.

These insights coalesced into a skill called battlefield alchemy.

This skill enabled alchemist wizards to perform basic alchemical tasks in minimal time.

After absorbing the knowledge, Richard saluted the old wizard.

"Master, how can I assist you?"

The old wizard nodded approvingly, noticing Richard's recognition of the skill's value.

"Kid, cannons are breaking down everywhere. You're my assistant now, helping me repair the magic stone cannons."

"What?" Richard blinked. "Master, we black wizards haven't been trained to repair cannons. I only managed that because the part wasn't too damaged..."

The old wizard waved dismissively, interrupting Richard with a frown.

"Training, shmain-ing, it's just a bunch of numbskulls lacking basic skills. Reshaping magic circuits is basic alchemy. You managed fine without training."

Clearly, the old wizard held disdain for the training system. To him, a competent alchemist need only study cannon schematics to fabricate parts when needed—additional training was unnecessary.

Wizards needing special training for repairs were simply deficient in fundamentals.

Seeing this, Richard held his tongue, bidding farewell to Ellie and Lawrence before joining the old wizard as a battlefield repair team.

...

The battlefield's condition was dire. After intense front-line use, almost every magic stone cannon had hidden damage.

Each flare-up left a region with sparse firepower, allowing large numbers of insects to infiltrate the residential area, harassing cannon positions and triggering chain reactions.

"Kid, handle this," the old wizard handed Richard a magic component. Its intricate lines would dizzy an ordinary person after a glance.

This was a Tesla Type V magic stone cannon component, far more complex than the Lavossier Type II Richard had repaired. Yet, complex as it was, the principles were the same.

Holding the component, Richard conjured a micro alchemical array in his palm.

This was the essence of battlefield alchemy—the hand-held alchemical array.

The technique demanded precise control over magic, a skill Richard excelled in.

Years of magical equipment crafting had honed his magic control beyond that of typical wizards.

As the array formed, the magic component in Richard's hand began to glow. The intricate magic circuits, under the influx of magic, emitted a faint light. This light spread from the component's base to its tip, the process steady and even.

"Not bad, solid fundamentals," the old wizard remarked, patting Richard's shoulder after taking the component. "Jolord always gets good students. Eric was like this, and so are you.

By the way, Eric should be nearing third-circle, right? Surpassed by a student, I wonder if Jolord's old face will blush."

Richard's lips trembled slightly. He whispered:

"Master, Brother Eric... has fallen behind enemy lines."

"What... what!"

The old wizard was startled, eyes wide as saucers. Yet he quickly regained composure, his voice slightly subdued:

"Another short-lived genius... Sigh!"

Having lived so long, he'd seen such things too many times. It was nothing new.

Following the old wizard, Richard repaired cannons from the residential area's east to west. In the process, he fixed over a dozen magic stone cannons, growing increasingly adept at reshaping magic circuits, earning the moniker "Master Richard."

The old wizard repaired even more, demonstrating the essence of battlefield alchemy.

A magic stone cannon, nearly destroyed by a meltdown and acid sphere attack, was deemed repairable by the old wizard.

He produced several metal ingots, fused them into a large block, then pressed down with both hands. The block seemed to come alive, reshaping and reforming, parts peeling off, each bearing crimson runes.

Spirit immersion, shaping, rune inscription—he compressed these into an instant, multitasking effortlessly.

In under a minute, the large ingot became a pile of parts.

Richard couldn't vouch for their quality, but they sufficed to restore the cannon's functionality.

On the battlefield, functionality was all that mattered.

...

Finishing the magic component, Richard handed it to the old wizard, leaning against a wall, vision dimming.

Using alchemical arrays drained mental energy intensely. As a first-circle wizard, he'd exhausted his reserves repairing over a dozen cannons.

Gazing at the endless insect sea, despair welled within Richard.

The decisive battle had raged for three days, yet the swarm remained unending. Could they truly win?

Suddenly, Richard felt tremors beneath him. Peering toward the swarm, he saw several massive figures emerging from the battlefield's depths.

After thirteen days of advance, the war beasts that had rampaged through the Third War Zone finally reached the front lines.