Wizard: Starting from the Skill Tree-Chapter 553: Observer

It is said that Albert himself possesses multiple world-class secret treasures, and combined with Raphael’s Mechanical Heart, it is enough to give Albert very strong self-preservation capabilities.

Even if he encounters any danger in the Void Insect Race’s mother nest, he could likely return unharmed.

The location of the Void Insect Race’s mother nest has been determined, and the Wizard Council has dispatched a Space Fortress, directly using a space jump to approach a nearby region.

The Space Fortress is far from the mother nest to avoid alarming the enemy, thus maintaining a sufficient distance.

Moreover, when the Space Fortress undergoes a space jump, there will be a considerable commotion, which could easily be detected by the Void Insect Race.

The further the space jump distance, the greater the spatial fluctuation, making the noise more perceptible.

This time, the position for the Space Fortress’s space jump was extremely conservative, quite distant from the Void Insect Race’s location.

A further distance is more troublesome but is ultimately more secure.

...

In the Endless Plane, a dark void, silent and soundless.

In this absolute silence and darkness, a subtle ripple silently spread out.

Without deafening roars, but on the essence of space, a violent spasm occurred.

In the originally smooth mirror-like void backdrop, the structure of a certain region was forcibly torn open. Instead of light, it was the deeper, chaotic-colored, and pure energy-filled void itself that gushed out from it, like a temporarily existing wound.

Following this, along with the violent distortion of this spatial structure, the outline of a gigantic object forcibly squeezed out from that wound.

This is the Wizard Council’s Observer Space Fortress, even among multiple Space Fortresses in the Wizard Plane, it is one of the top.

In terms of volume and various configurations, the Observer is of the top-tier, possessing extremely powerful comprehensive capabilities.

Its massive silhouette, outlined by distant faint starlight, reveals a terrifying scale akin to continuous mountains, vast like plains.

If it were to land on an ordinary world, its shadow would be enough to cover several nations.

The armor shell forged from composite Magic Metal presented a cold dark gray color, densely covered with ventilation grilles as huge as canyons, cannon muzzles as deep as caves, and rune arrays stretching thousands of kilometers, resembling mysterious mountain ranges.

These runes were currently pulsating at an extremely low frequency, drawing in the sparse energy from the void to maintain the fortress’s most basic concealment and life support systems.

Numerous gigantic cannon barrels, signal arrays towering like towers, and a network of energy conduits complex enough to dazzle, resembled a bizarre forest parasitizing the surface of this iron world, silently pointing towards the surrounding darkness.

At this moment, it had no excess illumination throughout its body, only a few crucial area’s indicator lights, like the occasionally opened wary and cold eyes of a lurking beast, emitting faint yet firm red dots or blue glows in the darkness.

The countless runes covering its surface were also in a state of low power consumption, similar to magma flowing under the scales of a sleeping dragon, hidden and unactivated.

The Observer, with a posture almost of brute force, broke free from the space fold and then completely came to a halt, hovering in the dead silence of the void.

The faint ripples caused by the previous space jump were rapidly calming down, and it began to merge perfectly into this absolute blackness, leaving only its unspoken, soul-shivering massive volume, silently declaring the arrival of a creation from a distant civilization, to this unknown cosmic corner.

The void it was in was truly a desolate place.

In every direction, front, back, left, right, above, below, it was boundless, dark as ink.

The nearest star was countless light-years away, like a few insignificant light points pasted on a black velvet curtain, cold and distant.

Here, there were neither the splendid colors of a nebula nor the hustle and bustle of planetary families, only eternal, all-consuming silence and emptiness.

Time and space here seemed to be stretched to the extreme, anything not belonging to this void would feel a strong sense of being rejected and isolated.

In the depths of this despair-inducing vast backdrop, at a distance requiring the Observer to employ the strongest observing equipment to capture clearly, was the target of this trip.

The Level 6 Void Insect Race mother nest, like a malignant tumor with gigantism lurking in the universe’s shadow, emitted ominous, slow-pulsating dim light.

The Observer and its target were separated by a vast, dizzying expanse of void.

This distance was a carefully calculated safety margin, ensuring the mother nest would not easily detect it and leaving room for possible emergency withdrawal.

At this moment, this Space Fortress was exercising its utmost patience and stealth, like a hunter of great patience, watching from afar in the darkness the equally massive yet primitively malicious biological nest.

The Level 6 mother nest was like a giant, continuously writhing and proliferating dark purple lump of pus suspended on the canvas of the universe; its volume was difficult to precisely estimate and intuitively even surpassed some small stars. It was not a regular sphere, but exhibited a disturbing, ever-changing form, like a living, breathing nebula.

The surface of the mother nest was not smooth but was covered with rugged biological ridged spines and deep ravines like mountain ranges. These structures were slowly moving and reorganizing, like viscous blood flowing on its surface.

The dim, ominous pulsating light shone through the gaps in its shell and those ravines, like the last heartbeat of a dying star, or the neural activity inside some incomprehensibly massive life form.

The light in that region around the mother nest underwent obvious distortion and deflection, as if the structure of space itself was being crushed and polluted by the mother nest’s massive mass and essence of existence.

A vast star ring composed of broken celestial bodies, dust, and various substances was slowly rotating around it, but this was not a natural wonder, rather it was a scene of ongoing consumption.

Visible, enormous structures resembling living tentacles would suddenly extend from the mother nest’s surface, seizing material from the star ring and dragging it into its bottomless darkness, turning it into the nourishment for its growth.

The Observer in this absolute void, and between that all-consuming mother nest, was like a cautious observer, an ant holding its breath on the edge of a giant beast’s nest.

Upon rough calculation, the volume of the mother nest was ten thousand times that of the Observer, immeasurably grand.