Wizard: Start with Biological Transformation to Grind Experience - Chapter 298 - 011: New Image and Slaughter

Chapter 298: 011: New Image and Slaughter

The journey continued.

After several months of living like a savage, Lynch’s hair had grown to waist-length. In fact, during his travels across the Seven Kingdoms, he had learned the skill of haircutting. Under normal circumstances, he’d have taken care of it himself long ago.

But this time, he didn’t bother. Instead, he used dye and combined it with magic to recolor his hair.

The new color was a silver-gray tinged with a bit of blue, vastly different from the black he used to have. It was achieved through a small spell applied directly to the scalp. As long as his spiritual power remained intact, the hair that grew afterward would be the same color.

In addition to the hair color, Lynch made a series of adjustments to his facial features, appearance, and physique.

Originally, his face and features leaned towards the delicate and soft side. Combined with an appearance that seemed perpetually under twenty, he exuded the vibe of a youthful idol group member—sunny, cheerful, gentle, and approachable, the kind of person people would find easy to interact with.

This image was harmless-looking and suited for interpersonal engagement in the previous environment, so even though Lynch knew it made him look too inexperienced, he never attempted to change it.

But now that he was in the outside world, being too fresh-faced wasn’t advisable—it made him look easy to bully and a potential target for perverts with twisted tastes, something Lynch wanted to avoid at all costs.

Getting ugly was absolutely out of the question; that was something he would never accept in his lifetime.

So, after some serious contemplation, Lynch decided to modify his appearance towards a more “fierce” direction—a cold, forbidding presence that would radiate the vibe of “stay away” and keep strangers at arm’s length.

His new hair color and hairstyle sparked recollections of certain character designs he’d seen back on Earth.

He raised his brow ridge slightly, reshaping his eyebrows into fine, elongated arches that subtly inclined upward for sharp lines and a stern, ruthless look.

He adjusted his almond-shaped eyes into slanted phoenix eyes, giving them a fierce edge.

Then, he made a series of modifications to his nose, lips, facial contours, and skeletal structure, ultimately achieving the effect he envisioned.

Standing by a pool of water, Lynch gazed at his new reflection.

He looked about thirty years old, with a tall and well-built physique. His long silver-gray hair tinged with blue cascaded down his back. His eyes were sharp and icy, his high nose bridge and thin lips exuded sternness and authority, while his angular face projected an air of strength.

The black cloak billowed around him, paired with the long Phantom Cross sword in his hand, radiating a sense of overwhelming power and mystery. An aura of cold ruthlessness permeated him, like a wall of impenetrable tension.

“Heh, uncanny resemblance, huh?”

The specialty of biological transformation had its perks—once you reached Wizard Level proficiency, you could reshape your appearance however you wished. Perhaps that was why, despite its mediocre combat potential, the discipline remained consistently popular among academics.

…

Months later, Lynch finally emerged from the ruins and arrived at the first human settlement beyond its desolation.

The northeastern edge of the ruins, in a wilderness west of the Orendale Kingdom.

Night had fallen.

The campfire roared, its flames flickering and surging in the night wind like a fiery serpent spewing Dragon Breath, provoking as ever.

Lynch sat by the fire, eating roast chicken. His long Phantom Cross lay at his right side, and Barton stood quietly behind him.

“Clip-clop-clop!”

Just then, the rushed sound of horse hooves broke the silence.

Lynch slightly tilted his head, casting a glance in the direction.

In the wilderness to his right-front, a group of riders charged furiously.

The group had split into two factions.

In the lead was a richly dressed fat man accompanied by a few guards, all managing a freight carriage. The carriage hauled a large wooden cage, inside which was a miserable crowd of ragged men and women.

Behind them, a band of horsemen gave chase—a motley crew of thirty-some riders wearing mismatched leather armor, wielding a hodgepodge of weapons like chain maces, axes, and short daggers. They were undoubtedly bandits.

Their eyes gleamed fiercely as they yelled curses at the carriage, waving their weapons threateningly.

The fat driver wasn’t one to back down, whipping the carriage forward at full speed without care for the people in the cage while having his guards fire arrows at the pursuing bandits.

The chase heated up across the wilderness.

“Sir, look over there!”

“There’s someone!”

One of the guards alerted the slave trader Darius, who raised his head to follow the direction pointed out. He quickly spotted a campfire burning brightly in the wilderness ahead, with a solitary figure seated next to it.

Darius couldn’t discern the person’s identity, but the aura emanating from them screamed dangerous—an overwhelming energy that couldn’t be ignored. The absurdly long Phantom Cross sword lying before them further affirmed they weren’t someone ordinary.

By coincidence, the axle of Darius’s carriage emitted a loud “crack”—a bearing had broken, abruptly slowing the vehicle down.

At this pace, they were destined to be overtaken by the bandits. If this batch of goods was lost, how could Darius explain himself to the Earl?

“Hold on tight!”

Gripped by desperation, Darius made a reckless decision. Despite the warning signs that no lone figure could survive in this wilderness unless exceptionally formidable, he steered the carriage toward the campfire.

Upon reaching proximity, Darius shouted urgently toward the man by the fire, “Sir! I’m Darius, from the Dark Tide Commerce. Help me fend off those bandits, and I shall repay your generosity!”

The carriage slowed further until it stopped entirely beside the campfire.

Meanwhile, the bandits had caught up. Though they hadn’t heard Darius’s plea clearly due to the distance, his sudden deviation toward the campfire made them suspect he might know the man by the fire.

But the man sat motionless by the fire, showing no reaction to Darius. The bandits wavered, unsure of their relationship.

Their leader cracked his whip and barked, “We’re from Shadow Wolf Fang. Anyone uninvolved, stay out of our business!”

The man by the fire remained motionless, as if he hadn’t heard.

Darius hurriedly stepped closer, pretending familiarity as he shouted, “Sir, it’s them!”

The bandit leader’s eyes darkened. With no further hesitation, he ordered, “Kill him!”

“Clang-clang!”

The chilling clash of steel pierced the air, and several bandits brandished their bloodied short daggers, charging at Lynch with ferocious expressions.

Lynch briefly revealed a hint of disdain in his eyes. Without stopping his meal, he casually grabbed the Phantom Cross by his side and swung it.

It was like a single slash—or countless slashes—illuminating the night sky with streaks of silver light.

“Thud-thud-thud!”

The sound of flesh and bone separating filled the air. The rushing bandits collapsed instantly, their bodies sliced apart.

The remaining bandits froze in shock.

“A Knight!”

The radiant silver glow was the unmistakable sign of Fighting Spirit. Judging by his swordsmanship… no ordinary Knight could achieve this!

“Stop!”

“Everyone, stop!”

The leader snapped back to awareness, immediately halting the others who were about to attack. A single sword strike capable of such destruction meant the man was leagues beyond ordinary—the risk wasn’t worth it.

The leader could tell now that Darius and the man weren’t in league, as Darius maintained his distance despite shouting fervently, clearly exploiting the situation.

’Sly slave trader!’

The leader cursed inwardly before cautiously approaching Lynch to negotiate. “Sir…”

Before he could finish, a frosty voice interrupted him.

“Leave!”

The leader’s expression stiffened.

Glancing between Darius, the cage on the carriage, and its captives, he hesitated—clearly reluctant to abandon his prize.

But Lynch spoke again, resolving his indecision.

“If you won’t go, then stay—for eternity.”

“Whoosh!”

The sound of cutting air echoed, a cold gleam flashed in the night.

As the gleam subsided, the leader’s head flew skyward, the hesitant scowl frozen on his severed face.

“Thud!” His headless corpse crumpled to the ground.

“The leader’s dead!”

“Run for your lives!”

The remaining bandits scattered in utter panic.

Seeing the danger dissipate, Darius heaved a long sigh of relief.

Though grateful, his expression betrayed a hint of fear upon gazing at the corpses. After a moment of hesitation, he stepped forward to express his gratitude to Lynch. “Thank you, sir, for your assistance. Dark Tide Commerce will forever be in your debt.”

Lynch, however, ignored him, casually glancing up toward the carriage’s cage while eating. It seemed as if he were confirming something.

Moments later, he withdrew his gaze and remarked, “Leave the carriage, and you may also leave.”

Darius’s face froze.

“Sir!”

“Sir!”

Just then, hurried hoofbeats approached rapidly, followed by the appearance of dozens of men in military uniforms. Their armor was uniform, and each carried a gleaming Cross Sword, evidently well-trained.

At the forefront rode two figures radiating powerful energy, their bodies shimmering with silver light—clearly of Knight Level strength.

They seemed to be Darius’s reinforcements, quickly surrounding and shielding him.

Instantly emboldened, Darius straightened his clothes and hair, signaling to the knights and soldiers with a cold glare. Two soldiers understood the cue, drawing their Cross Swords and closing in on Lynch.

In a frigid tone, Darius spoke, “Sir, while I admit your aid has been somewhat helpful, you’ve exceeded your bounds…”

Before he could finish, Lynch swung his blade once more.

Countless radiant silver streaks filled the air.

The advancing knights and soldiers froze momentarily, then crumbled to the ground, dismembered and lifeless. No one had even glimpsed his movements.

“A High-level… Knight!”

One knight, his throat fully severed, managed to utter his last, bitter words before death.

Darius felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. The chill pierced his skull, spreading all the way to his feet.

Without a moment of hesitation, he frantically grabbed a horse and fled, followed by his remaining men.

The wilderness returned to silence.

Only the sound of Lynch chewing on his chicken leg echoed in the chilly night air.

After finishing his meal and downing a jug of wine, Lynch stretched leisurely before finally standing up.

He walked over to the cage.

His gaze quickly settled on a small girl inside.

’This sensation… fascinating.’

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