Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 193 "The Hand of a Hundred Arts"

In a spacious meeting room in the central tower of the Black Mist Forest, five candidates for the wizarding sequence faced Vice Dean Hayek and several mentors, their expressions solemn.

"The five of you have been selected to participate in this Bloodline Altar Trial." Hayek's voice was calm and authoritative.
"This is both an honor and a challenge. The environment inside the altar is complex and fraught with danger, but it also offers endless opportunities."

Ron and the other four—Tracy, Holt, and two other Sequence members he wasn't very familiar with—stood in a row, their bodies straight and their expressions focused.

"Given the unique nature of the trial, the school has decided to provide each participant with the necessary equipment support."

Hayek waved his hand, and Soren stepped forward, carrying five exquisite velvet bags.

"These are specially made space bags by our school of thought," Soren explained as he distributed them.

"Each item can hold approximately five cubic meters of items, far exceeding the capacity of ordinary space equipment."

Ron took the soft, dark blue bag and felt the strange energy fluctuations emanating from it.

The bag looks ordinary, only the size of a palm, yet it can hold so many items, making it a truly rare strategic resource.

“Of course, such advanced equipment is the property of the school,” Hayek added, his eyes sharp.

"After the trial, the school will take 30% of the value of any items you take from it as a usage fee. This is a fair exchange."

Ron carefully examined the spatial bag in his hand, and had already made up his mind.

This equipment is indeed valuable, but a 30% "tax rate" is certainly not low.

“There is another option,” Soren continued.

"You may also choose not to use the space bags provided by the school and prepare your own equipment entirely. Of course, this means you will lose this convenience, and the items brought out from the altar will belong entirely to you."

After the meeting, the five people left to prepare their own equipment.

Ron headed straight to the school's trading center, with a clear plan in mind.

The trading center, located on the east side of the school, is a semi-circular white building where various resources are frequently traded.

Ron navigated the bustling crowd with practiced ease and arrived at a counter marked "Rare Materials Exchange".

“I need Black Sand Essence,” Ron said bluntly to the staff behind the counter.

"The smallest size."

The other person was an older woman with gray hair, but her eyes were unusually sharp.

She looked Ron up and down, seemingly assessing the young apprentice's reliability.

“Black Sand Essence?” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s no ordinary commodity, young man. Even the smallest quantity requires two complete magic stones.”

“I know the price.” Ron calmly took out two complete magic stones that he had prepared beforehand from his pocket:
"I demand perfect quality; I cannot tolerate any flaws."

After the transaction was completed, Ron quickly returned to the workshop.

He felt a pang of regret at the cost of both magic stones, but the investment was necessary for his future plans.

"So many magic stones have been spent again..."

Ron looked at the thumb-sized dark red crystal in his hand and sighed, "Magic stones really don't last long."

Inside the workshop, Ron quickly entered the laboratory and began preparing to refine his own spatial bag.

Black Sand Essence is an "Abyssal Material" unique to the first layer of the Abyss and a core material for crafting spatial equipment, containing natural spatial folding properties.

The process of refining a space bag is essentially about guiding the spatial energy from the black sand essence and then fixing it onto a specific carrier.

He took a piece of fine nylon skin and cut it into a suitable shape according to a specific pattern.

"This process is much simpler than I imagined," Ron muttered to himself, as he skillfully drew intricate runes on the dragon skin.
"It's even easier than making an alchemical bomb."

The key lies in the layout of the guide route and the construction of the initial space.

Black Sand Essence itself possesses spatial properties. It only requires establishing the correct energy guidance pathway and activating it through a specific alchemical reaction to form a stable small subspace.

Ron's nimble fingers refined several rare alchemical materials to their optimal state and precisely applied them to key points on the surface of the dragon skin.

The "Matter Transmutation" skill played a crucial role at this moment, allowing him to intuitively perceive the interactions between materials and precisely control each step of the reaction.

Three hours later, a small, dark brown bag lay quietly on the lab table, its surface faintly showing shimmering runes.

He carefully put his hand into the bag and felt as if his arm had entered an invisible space, far beyond the size of the bag.

"Success!" Ron's eyes shone with a sense of accomplishment: "The capacity is one-third larger than what the school provided."

He took out his pocket watch and checked the time.

With less than twelve hours until the official opening of the Bloodline Altar, he needed to hurry up and complete the remaining preparations.

Meanwhile, on the top floor of the Black Mist School's administrative tower, Thompson stood in Hayek's office, holding a thick document in his hand.

"This is my observation report on Ron Ralph."

Thompson handed the document to Hayek, his voice calm but with obvious appreciation: "I think you should take a look at it yourself."

Hayek took the document and quickly began to read it.

As he read on, his brows furrowed and a look of surprise flashed in his eyes.

"An alchemical bomb? He successfully created an alchemical bomb?"

Hayek looked up at Thompson, his voice filled with disbelief:

"This technique usually requires at least ten years of study in alchemy to master."

“Not only that,” Thompson added:
"He also successfully crafted a spatial bag. As far as I know, he just exchanged a Black Sand Essence from the trading center, presumably intending to make his own spatial equipment."

Hayek lowered his head and remained silent for a moment before placing the document on the table.

"This young man's alchemy skills have reached the level of a professional alchemist, and his progress is far beyond what is normal."

He pondered and said, "This doesn't seem to match the 'medicinal resonance' talent recorded in his file."

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the office door, and then Valen appeared in the doorway.

"Excuse me, Hayek."

The Dark Sun Wizard smiled gently: "I've come to retrieve some historical records of the Bloodline Altar."

“Master Warren, please come in.” Hayek immediately rose to greet him, while Thompson bowed and left through the hidden door. “Perfect timing, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

Warren entered the room, his gaze falling on the documents on the table, seemingly having already sensed something from Hayek's expression.

"Is it about that young member in the sequence?" he asked softly.

Hayek gave a brief introduction to Ron's situation, emphasizing his remarkable achievements in alchemy, potion-making, bloodline manipulation, and many other areas.

"Recently, he has not only been able to make alchemical bombs, but has also mastered the technology of making space equipment, all of which was accomplished in just a few months."

Hayek concluded, "This pace of progress is unprecedented in my teaching career." A rare look of surprise flashed in Warren's eyes. He took the document, carefully reviewed it again, and his expression gradually became serious.

"Interesting...very interesting."

The Dark Sun Wizard said slowly:
"This all-around extraordinary talent reminds me of some much rarer types of talent... 'naturalist,' 'enlightened one,' 'eye of wisdom,' or even perhaps 'hand of a hundred arts'..."

“You mean… he might possess talents even rarer than ‘Medicine Resonance’?” Hayek asked in surprise.

"Very likely." Valen nodded.
"Especially the 'Hand of a Hundred Arts' talent, which allows the holder to quickly master any skill when they come into contact with it, is one of the most precious talents in the second tier."

A brief silence fell over the room as the two pondered the implications of their discovery.

"Regardless," Valen finally broke the silence:
“Such a genius should not be missed. Hayek, I suggest adding him to the list of people to watch closely.”

“It’s already been arranged,” Hayek replied.
"If he truly possesses such a rare talent, the upper echelons of the Crystal Spire will inevitably take an interest in him."

A glint of shrewdness flashed in Valen's eyes:
"Yes, such talents should serve on a broader stage."

He paused briefly, his voice becoming even lower:

“I have a suggestion—when he is close to the threshold of becoming a full-fledged wizard, do not give him the ‘Key Potion’ lightly, even if his chances of promotion are higher than those of being at the top of the sequence.”

“You mean…” A knowing glint flashed in Hayek’s eyes.

"Yes, make him sign a soul contract to serve our Crystal Spire for life as a condition for obtaining the 'Key Potion'."

"Such genius must be closely tied to our Crystal Spire," Warren said calmly.

Hayek pondered for a moment, then finally nodded in agreement:
“I understand, Master Varen. I will keep a close eye on his progress.”

………………

The day for the Bloodline Altar to open has finally arrived.

In the vast plaza of the school's central area, an inconspicuous circular stone platform had now become the center of the ceremony.

Around the stone platform, intricate magic array patterns emitted a faint blue light, and the air was filled with an ancient and mysterious energy fluctuation.

Valen stood in the center of the stone platform, with Hayek and several other wizards beside him.

Dozens of apprentices surrounded him, all of whom had come to observe the ceremony.

Ron and the other four candidates stood at specific positions on the edge of the magic circle, each with a small magic circle node in front of them, connected to the large magic circle in the center.

The ten apprentices from the Crystal Spire were also in place, their attire noticeably different from that of the Black Mist School apprentices:

The more elaborate robes were embroidered with intricate runes, and the wearers were adorned with various exquisite alchemical equipment.

Some of them had skin with a metallic sheen, some had eyes that shimmered with strange runes, and some had arms that seemed to be able to extend and deform.

These are all manifestations of bloodline alienation, showing that they have undergone various degrees of self-modification.

Although these apprentices from the Central Lands behaved politely and showed no sign of disdain.

But Ron could still sense an innate sense of superiority in their demeanor and conversation—the confidence and composure that comes from being in a resource-rich environment for a long time.

"Don't be nervous," Trish's voice came from beside her.
"We all agreed that once we went in, we would find each other and form teams."

Ron simply nodded: "I am fully prepared."

He patted the space bag he had made, which was filled with various potions, alchemical tools, and emergency supplies.

Holt also came over, his expression grave:
"I've heard that this trial is different from the usual ones, and may involve deeper levels of the abyss's influence. Everyone must be careful."

Valen's voice suddenly rang out in the square, clear and powerful. He didn't use any amplification spells, yet everyone could hear him clearly.

"The Bloodline Altar originated from a captured fragment of a special space."

The Dark Sun Wizard's voice carried a certain calming power:

"Because of the collision between planes, it has some connection with the abyss, but it is not entirely part of the abyss. This special property makes it an ideal place for bloodline purification and trials."

Valen slowly walked to the center of the magic circle and continued to explain:

"After entering the altar, you will be randomly dispersed to different areas. There, you will face various challenges—the entanglement of vengeful spirits, attacks from abyssal creatures, and milder abyssal curse effects."

His gaze swept over each participant:
"Your goal is to overcome these obstacles, reach the central area of ​​the Bloodline Altar world, and complete the final trial. Only by passing the trial can you open the exit or activate the insignia I have given you to teleport away; otherwise, you will be considered to have automatically forfeited. The content of the trial is different each time, and this time is no exception."

Ron listened attentively, memorizing every detail.

“You might wonder why formal wizards don’t personally participate in such trials.”

Valen seemed to see through the doubts of many people present:
"This is because of the rule set by the great wizard who captured this fragment of space—the Bloodline Altar is only open to apprentices who have not yet reached the level of a formal wizard."

He explained:

"On the one hand, the bloodline enhancement effect within the altar is almost negligible for the enhancement of formal wizards;

On the other hand, it is also a gift to future generations of young people, a manifestation of some kind of 'ancient rule'.

Therefore, beings who have reached the level of a formal wizard cannot pass through the spatial passage connecting to the altar.

Ron pondered this, realizing that it explained why such a precious resource was reserved specifically for apprentices.

This is both a form of inheritance and an investment in the future of young people, from which the great wizard can also obtain a continuous stream of "blessings".

"Now," Valen's voice became solemn, "the Bloodline Altar Trial officially begins!"

As he finished speaking, the stone platform in the center of the magic circle suddenly emitted a dazzling blue light.

Beams of energy expanded outward from the center, connecting to the nodes where each participant stood.

Ron felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, and everything in his vision began to distort and warp.

His consciousness seemed to be stretched, distorted, and then thrown into a boundless void.

In this void, he vaguely saw a huge rift, deep and dark, exuding a chilling aura.

That was the entrance to the abyss, from which a dark and chaotic aura emanated, spreading towards him like countless tentacles.

Ron felt an indescribable sense of oppression, as if an invisible force was trying to invade his mind and blood.

This is the curse of the abyss, attempting to leave its mark upon him.

"Resist...we must resist..."

Ron silently chanted in his mind, while simultaneously mobilizing all his mental energy to construct a defensive barrier.

Just as he was about to be swallowed by the darkness, a ray of light suddenly appeared from the other end of the void, like a path of life, guiding him in the right direction.

Without hesitation, Ron rushed towards the golden light, feeling his consciousness being suddenly pulled, and then...

In a dizzying moment, his feet finally touched solid ground.

(End of this chapter)