Dark Wizard: Rise! My undead army!

Within the world of the Holy Mark, Walker felt his body pass through a thin membrane, as if emerging from the surface of water, and the surrounding light changed from dim to grayish-white.

He was standing firmly on a layer of soft, grayish-brown soil, covered with fine grass clippings and fallen leaves, the air filled with the scent of earth and grass roots.

This realism amazed Walker.

This place seems no different from the ordinary world, unlike other Stigmata Realms where it has been assimilated by the dominant rules.

After he stopped, he raised his head, his gaze falling on the sky as he looked at his target.

The sky here is grayish-white, with thin clouds that seem to see through a semi-transparent curtain.

But what truly captivated his gaze were the giant "chains of rules" hanging in the sky.

The chains hung down from the depths of the clouds, each one slowly rotating, and each was a different color and a different thickness.

Some chains have a silvery-white sheen, some are dark gold, and some have fine electric arcs flickering along their edges.

They intertwine with each other, like a giant net covering the entire sky, with no end in sight.

Walker stood in the grayish-white light, looking up with a face full of shock.

He muttered to himself, as if speaking to himself: "This is the Myriad Manifestations Sacred Mark?!"

"Truly...a magnificent miracle..."

He had heard of the name "Lynn" before entering; the Lord of All Things, the newly promoted Stigmata of the Bone Spire, who single-handedly withstood the siege of three veteran Stigmata.

But those were just rumors. Walker originally had doubts, thinking that the three Stigmata had held back to create momentum for Lynn.

But when he truly stood on this land, he genuinely felt the grandeur of "all things".

There was no longer any doubt about the previous rumors.

Other Stigmata may not be able to take on three or even five opponents at once, but the Myriad Manifestations... can definitely do it!

Lord Lynn is truly a genius, to have been able to condense such an incredible holy mark!

He himself was now standing in this realm of holy marks, looking up at the slowly rotating chains of rules.

Each one is a complete rule, interwoven into a giant net covering the entire sky.

Walker's voice softened further: "As expected of the Myriad Manifestations Mark, as expected of... Lord Lynn."

The light of the chains of rules flowed slowly, like a river moving through a channel, containing a certain rhythm that made people unable to resist being captivated.

The patterns on the surface of those chains are clearly visible, circulating according to a certain pattern, like independent tracks, each moving at its own rhythm.

Walker stared at one of the silver chains for a long time, until he began to feel slightly dizzy.

He looked away, stood with his head down for a while, and only raised his head again after the dizziness subsided.

He couldn't keep looking at it like this. Forcing himself to understand would only put him in a passive position. He needed to find a suitable place to settle down first.

After all, we're going to be here for a year; we can't just sit here in the wilderness for a year, can we?

Walker took to the air, determined his direction, and quickly flew away into the distance.

The ground beneath the Sacred Mark Domain unfolded, much larger than he had anticipated, resembling a complete continent.

There are mountains, rivers, and forests. Beyond the nearest ridge, you can see a swirling cloud of mist in the distance, with faint traces of buildings and roads visible below.

The further you fly, the clearer the details on the ground become.

He passed by a city ruin that was under repair. At the gap in the city wall, people were repairing the wall and inscribing magic circles.

They wore matching dark gray robes and held rune pens, condensing silvery-white energy to inscribe patterns on the city walls.

Walker slowed down and observed for a while. Those people were not weak, and some of them even had mental strength close to that of a formal wizard.

In the wizarding world, he would be considered a formal wizard-level existence.

This surprised him somewhat; he had only randomly found a small town, yet it had so many extraordinary individuals, and their strength was not low.

This indicates that the density of extraordinary individuals is very high here.

The existence of so many high-level individuals within the Sacred Mark Domain indicates that the various extraordinary energies here are quite complete and can support cultivation at this level.

Most importantly, these indigenous people are quite strong; their top-tier combat abilities are probably no weaker than his.

He decisively reduced his altitude and stopped flying at high altitude to avoid attracting unnecessary attention.

Before anyone noticed, Walker landed in a grove of low trees on the edge of the city and changed out of his wizard robes.

He put the wizard's robe into his ring and changed into a plain gray robe, which had no markings or patterns.

Only then did they walk in along the dirt road leading to the city gate.

People came and went on the street, their faces weary and sorrowful, as if they had just experienced hardship.

Considering the extent of the damage to the city, Walker seemed to have an epiphany.

A war has just taken place here.

Walker was extremely curious about this place, especially about whether the powerful superhumans here knew that he was living in someone else's little world.

Do they realize that they are merely playthings inside someone else's body?

Just then, several little beggars saw Walker looking around and quickly surrounded him, chattering away.

Although he didn't understand the languages ​​of these indigenous people, Walker's strong mental power allowed him to comprehend their meaning.

It's nothing more than saying things like, "Have pity on me, give me some food."

Walker waved to shoo them away, but the beggars persisted, clinging to Walker's robes and refusing to let go.

Some beggars even wiped the dirt and snot from their hands onto their robes, revealing a triumphant smile.

Walker looked disgusted.

His powerful senses allowed him to clearly smell the strong stench emanating from them, and he quickly shut off his sense of smell to feel better.

Walker looked at the beggars clutching his robe, a chill running down his spine, before walking toward a nearby alley.

The beggars didn't let go; they followed him into the alley, their footsteps echoing softly behind them.

The alley was deserted, but the beggars, relying on their numbers, showed no fear whatsoever; on the contrary, they appeared delighted.

When they reached the middle of the alley, the little beggar walking in front suddenly loosened the corner of Walker's robe.

He stepped forward to block Walker, pulled a rusty and broken dagger from his pocket, and looked menacing.

If this knife were to stab me, the wound would be secondary; the rust alone would be a major problem.

The little beggar stood in front of Walker, holding up the dagger, and spoke a string of words, faster and harsher than before.

Walker's mental power received the meaning of those syllables—leave behind all your valuables, your robe and shoes, and then get out of here!