Wizard: Start with Biological Transformation to Grind Experience Chapter 273 - 024: Punishment

Dark Forest, Punishnt Square.

Punishnt Square is a place in the Ancient Ruins that strikes fear into wizards not because of any inherent danger or powerful magic creature lurking about, but simply because...

It is the place where wizards guilty of severe cris are subjected to justice.

Moreover,

Not just any cri or common punishnt. The rules must have been gravely violated, and punishnt here is no ordinary penalty—but the greatest punishnt of all—

Death!

Punishnt Square rarely opens, but once it does, it invariably causes a sensation.

At this mont, a massive stone pillar has already been erected at the execution platform in the center of Punishnt Square. Its height exceeds a hundred ters, its diater requiring several n to encircle it, and its surface is covered with black iron chains. Beneath those chains, faces are engraved—faces that carry expressions of utmost pain.

This is the Pillar of Tornt.

For a wizard sentenced to the greatest cri, physical torture alone can no longer cleanse their sins. The Pillar of Tornt can continue to imprison their soul even after their physical body has perished, subjecting it to eternal suffering.

The faces on the pillar are not actually carved onto its surface; they are manifestations of the souls imprisoned within, warped by their endless tornt.

The circular square, surrounded by enough stands to accommodate over a thousand spectators, is now packed to capacity.

Among the crowd are wizards and apprentices alike, all from various Wizard Families.

The spectacle of a punishnt for a great cri is exceedingly rare, and coupled with the highly unusual circumstances of the individual to be executed today, mbers of the Wizard Families flocked here as soon as the news was released.

"Dong! Dong! Dong!" The heavy toll of a bell reverberates—a proclamation of death.

Sitting on the podium is Berserker Reo, one of the Seven Great Judges of the Shadow Tower. He is responsible for overseeing today’s execution as the convict happens to be an apprentice of the Shadow Tower.

Upon hearing the bell’s chi, he sets down the newspaper in his hands and casually says, "Let’s begin."

"Crash!"

The sound of scaffolding creaking fills the air as the gate at one side of the square opens. From within, a battered figure is escorted out by two Bloodline Knights.

It is Graham.

At that mont, the entire square erupts into turmoil.

"Kill him! Kill him!"

"Execute this cursed bastard!"

"Traitor!"

Officially, Graham is accused of stealing the Wizard Inheritance of the Cavas family. But everyone knows the truth of what really happened.

This is why the gathered wizards are seething with rage.

After all, every wizard assembled here is a pureblood, a mber of one of the Wizard Families from this land.

Stealing inheritance might be forgivable, but betraying one’s class—

Unpardonable!

In the stands, Albert sits in a corner, watching Graham below with cold, furious eyes.

So much planning, such ticulous setups—all to lure that damn bastard Mudblood into the trap. They were so close to final victory, just one step away from binding the cursed Mudblood to the execution platform to te out the ultimate punishnt.

And yet, during that most critical final step, this damned fellow jumped out and ruined the entire plan!

Fine then,

Since you’re so desperate to die, I’ll grant your wish!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Suddenly, one by one, balls of ghostly green flas ignite within the cauldrons hanging above the square. The cauldrons, lined in two rows stretching from the gate to the base of the Punishnt Pillar, illuminate a disturbing passageway beneath the eerie green glow.

A path straight to Hell.

"Move."

The Bloodline Knight, expressionless, nudges Graham forward.

With his head lowered, Graham trudges forward, each step heavier than the last.

He finally arrives at the base of the Pillar.

Berserker Reo’s voice resonates, solemn and imposing, devoid of emotion, like a cold alchemy machine.

"Graham Scoochi, sinner, do you admit your cris?"

Graham keeps his head down, silent.

Reo doesn’t waste ti. He nods slightly and says, "Since your silence implies admission, proceed with the execution."

Several execution wizards positioned around the square begin chanting incantations in low tones at Reo’s command.

As the incantations continue, the runes etched across the pillar begin to light up one by one. anwhile, the black chains encompassing the stone loosen and unfurl.

Then,

Several thick, iron chains erge from the pillar like living creatures, slithering downward toward Graham and coiling around his body.

The first chain pierces his right palm with a sharp thrust, blood dripping steadily along its length onto the ground, producing faint "drip-drop" sounds. Graham lets out a harrowing scream of agony, his body convulsing violently, but the chain relentlessly pulls him against the pillar until his back presses against its cold, stone surface.

Soon after, the second chain pierces his left ankle. The sound of bones cracking is excruciatingly clear, violently pinning him in place, rendering him immobile.

The third chain descends from the top of the pillar, its end gleaming with nacing light, before plunging directly into Graham’s scapula. The scream dies in his throat, replaced by weak sobbing as blood pours down the chain, soaking his robe and pooling beneath him.

The fourth chain pierces his right ankle, completely immobilizing him against the pillar. His chained limbs contorted grotesquely, resembling a silent declaration of his guilt.

Graham cannot speak in his agony anymore; he now only wishes for death to claim him quickly.

The four chains, after piercing his body, tighten swiftly, hoisting him higher onto the pillar.

At the base of the pillar, the runes now glow ominously, spitting out tongues of fla like ravenous demons, licking the air in anticipation of their feast.

Once the final verdict is given, the flas will consu Graham.

His body will be reduced to ash, and his soul will be devoured by the pillar to endure ceaseless tornt.

The crowd stirs into frenzy at this mont.

"Serves him right!"

"Burn him! Burn the traitor!"

"Unforgivable!"

This,

is the price of betraying one’s class!

Amid the fervent cries, Reo emotionlessly pronounces the final verdict: "Graham Scoochi, sinner, for violating Article 126 of the Wizard Ordinance by stealing another’s Wizard Inheritance, I hereby sentence you to the greatest punishnt. Execution to comnce imdiately!"

The execution wizards chant steadily, their incantations stirring the runes into brighter light. The fire begins to stir, readying itself to consu Graham in its obliterating embrace.

The crowd’s expressions grow wild with anticipation.

Every emotion builds toward this climactic mont—all catharsis hinging upon the flas’ eruption.

And in this very mont...

"Who is that!"

"Damn it, stop him!" The commotion arises from beyond the square.

In quick succession—

"Boom!"

A deafening explosion rips apart the towering gates of the square, which stands dozens of ters tall. They shatter as if forcibly blown apart from outside. Bloodline Knights guarding the gates are sent flying inward along with the debris, caught up in a heavy cloud of dust.

The abrupt turn of events shocks the entire square, halting the execution abruptly.

Every gaze turns toward the destroyed gates.

Through the billowing dust, a figure steps out.

Clad entirely in a pure white cloak, his ink-black hair cascading like liquid midnight, with a strikingly handso face and star-like eyes. His presence exudes a carefree aura, impossible to na.

"Who are you? What’s your purpose?"

A Bloodline Knight imdiately charges at the man with his sword drawn, but before he can close the distance, the man vanishes briefly and reappears directly before the knight. A hand lashes out, grasping the knight’s head and wrenching it upwards.

Like pulling weeds from the ground, the man effortlessly tears the knight’s head from his neck—a loud "crack!"—before blood erupts in a straight column toward the sky, cascading down like rain.

Amid the shower of crimson, a mocking laugh breaks the silence.

"What’s my purpose?"

Undeterred, Lynch announces boldly under all eyes: "To rescue soone, of course."

"And while I’m at it,"

He pauses briefly, his gaze sharpening coldly as he finishes, "To slice all you bastards into pieces!"