Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 231 To hand over or to keep?

The bead was about the size of a fist, its surface covered with intricate patterns, and it emitted a chilling energy fluctuation, clearly a power that did not belong to this world.

As the bead was activated, a powerful, suffocating surge of energy erupted from within the Holy Disc.

His broken body began to rebuild itself at a visible speed.

The corroded tissues regrow, and the broken bones automatically mend themselves.

Even the eyes that had been extinguished lit up again, emitting an even more eerie light than before.

At the same time, the aura emanating from the Holy Disc grew stronger and stronger, rapidly climbing from the initial Morning Star level to approach the Lunar Star level, and was still climbing rapidly.

The oppressive feeling was so real that it made the air in the whole room thick and viscous, making it difficult to even breathe.

"Apostle transformation," came Mrs. Allen's voice, tinged with wariness and solemnity.

Her hand was already reaching for the potion pouch at her waist, clearly ready to join the battle at any moment.

But his face was faintly pale and unhealthy, and a hint of suppressed pain flashed in his eyes.

Ron noticed this and reached out to stop her: "Madam, please stay where you are."

He could clearly see Mrs. Allen's condition—her magical activity period had passed, and her aura was somewhat disordered.

There are obvious distortions and breaks in the energy flow path, which are clearly the aftereffects of long-term use of stimulating magical potions.

Through his extraordinary perception, Ron was able to clearly see the unstable energy structures within Mrs. Allen's body.

Like a dam about to collapse, it barely maintains its surface integrity, but its interior is already riddled with dangerous cracks.

If they were to fight at this moment, it would likely cause those cracks to widen completely, causing irreparable damage to her vitality.

"Given your current condition, there's no need for you to take risks. I can handle this opponent."

Ron's voice was calm and firm, yet it carried an undeniable power:

"Besides, I'm no longer the apprentice who needs protection."

Mrs. Allen's gaze lingered on Ron for a moment, a series of complex emotions flashing in her eyes—surprise, hesitation, resentment, and finally a sense of relief bordering on pride.

She could sense the confidence and power emanating from Ron; it wasn't bluffing, but the composure that came from genuine strength.

“I just saw it through my special talent.”

Ron's voice was soft, yet it reached Mrs. Allen's ears precisely:

"If you can rest and recuperate properly for six months and stop using those stimulating potions, you can live for at least several decades longer under my gracious care. Your injuries are not irreversible, they just require time and proper care."

Mrs. Allen paused slightly, a hint of surprise flashing in her emerald eyes, followed by an undisguised emotion.

For years, she believed that her condition was beyond repair and that she could only barely maintain it by relying on various stimulating magical drugs.

And now, what she thought was a nascent spark of hope has suddenly burst into flames...

On the other hand, the changes in the sacred plate have entered a critical stage, leaving them no room for further hesitation.

The blood-red bead completely merged into his body, causing his energy fluctuations to surge dramatically, surpassing even the peak of the Morning Star realm, and continuing to rise.

His form was also undergoing an astonishing transformation—a pair of enormous wing membranes sprouted from his back, his skin turned a metallic dark purple, his height at least doubled, and every inch of his muscle contained destructive power.

"Ron Ralph! Your resistance is futile!"

The sound of the sacred disc had completely changed, sounding like a million insects chirping simultaneously:
"Kneel down and accept this favor! Lord Magus has chosen you. You will be reborn and become the heir to the throne!"

Ron no longer hesitated and directly used the most direct means of interference at present—psychic blast.

After becoming a formal wizard, this skill has evolved from a simple "mental interference" into a more terrifying attack method that can directly destroy the target's core consciousness.

At this moment, he incorporated the principle of "sonic echo," which resulted in a qualitative leap in both its power and activation speed.

The spiritual energy transformed into invisible spikes, piercing directly into the core of the Holy Disc's consciousness, triggering an "echo effect" that caused a series of explosions in its spiritual world.

This attack completely bypasses physical defenses, acting directly on the soul level, like an invisible blade piercing the core of the soul.

Generally speaking, "Mental Blast" is rarely used between wizards of the same level.

Because most wizards possess the ability to resist such attacks, having complete mental barriers and countermeasures.

But this is precisely one of the best weapons against the existence of the Abyss.

There is a relationship of mutual generation and mutual restraint between wizards and the beings of the abyss.

Although Awakened Ones usually have the upper hand due to the corrosive effects and their distorted physical bodies.

However, wizards also have specific countermeasures, and mental attacks are one of them.

Although beings in the Abyss possess powerful physical bodies, their mental structure is often their most vulnerable part.

Especially for those who have just awakened or are in a state of transition, their mental defenses are almost zero.

The Holy Disc let out a shrill scream, and its seven eyes bulged out simultaneously, oozing black liquid.

The process of apostleification was forcibly interrupted, and the energy structure showed signs of chaos and collapse.

The blood-red bead also lost control and began to throb violently in his chest, as if trying to break free of its restraints.

"I am the Apostle Magus. I... Ahhh!"

He was now unable to utter a complete sentence, his body began to contort violently, and the newly grown tissues began to collapse again.

The high concentration of abyssal energy within the body went out of control, turning into a weapon of self-destruction.

Black energy surged from his seven orifices, forming an eerie black mist in the air before quickly dissipating.

Ron seized the opportunity, quickly activating the "Flowing Barrier" and simultaneously releasing the "Demon Hunter" state of his substitute puppet.

The flowing protective barrier transformed into an ingenious cage, completely imprisoning the Holy Disc;

Meanwhile, the demon-hunting substitute puppet actively lunged at the awakened one amidst the chaos, displaying a chilling ability to devour.

The substitute puppet's form has been completely distorted; it is no longer a simple puppet, but has become a hideous monster.

Its body is covered with dense black scales, its limbs are elongated and deformed, and its fingertips have turned into sharp bone blades.

The most terrifying thing was its head—a pair of compound eyes had grown out of the originally empty eye sockets, gleaming with a cold, metallic light;

The mouth was torn and extended, forming a disproportionately large opening filled with layers upon layers of serrated teeth.

The puppet opened its hideous maw and began to devour the Holy Disc's body and energy.

Thanks to the "hunting evil" bonus and its inherent devouring properties, this process is exceptionally efficient.

The Holy Disc's body was visibly shrinking, and the abyssal energy that should have been powerful was being absorbed bit by bit by the substitute puppet, like a delicious meal.

"No! No! Lord Magus..."

The Holy Disc let out a final wail, still trying to struggle, but it was too late.

A few minutes later, the Holy Disc disappeared completely, leaving only a blood-red bead floating silently in the air—the so-called "Seed of the Throne".

“It’s over.” Ron recalled the stand-in puppet, his gaze falling on the strange bead.

Despite his calm exterior, he was filled with vigilance.

The energy fluctuations emitted by that bead were extremely terrifying, far exceeding any abyssal substance he had ever seen, clearly indicating that it came from a deeper level of existence.

Mrs. Allen stepped forward, her eyes warily fixed on the bead:

"This is the Seed of the Throne, the crystallization of the power of the Supreme Apostle from the deepest part of the abyss."

Her voice carried a rare hint of solemnity:

"It is said that each Throne Seed is personally crafted by the Apostles and contains a part of their essence. Possessing it is equivalent to establishing a connection with the Apostles, which is both a source of power and a fatal weakness."

Mrs. Allen gave Ron a deep look:
"You have two choices—hand it over to the Crystal Spire and let them give it to the Court of Truth; or keep it yourself, but it will be completely isolated and will pose a great risk regardless of whether it is discovered or not."

Ron stared at the bead, his mind racing.

The energy emanating from that bead was indeed captivating; the power it contained might help him improve his strength more quickly and reach a higher realm.

However, he also knew that such a "gift" from the abyss would inevitably come with a price.

That is a force that defies conventional understanding and could potentially bring unforeseen dangers.

This is a gamble of the soul—to choose the steady but slow conventional path, or to risk taking this unknown shortcut?

"Should we hand it over or keep it?"

Mrs. Allen asked again, her eyes filled with inquiry, seemingly observing Ron's reaction to the temptation. Ron took a deep breath and made his decision.

He recalled everything he had experienced during his advancement through the authentic path.

Those terrifying illusions, the feeling of powerlessness at being manipulated by a higher being, and the sense of accomplishment of ultimately overcoming challenges through one's own will.

"I don't need this kind of potentially dangerous force. I'll hand it over."

His voice was firm, without the slightest hesitation:
"I would rather reach a higher level step by step through my own efforts than take risks by relying on external shortcuts. This power that comes from the abyss is ultimately incompatible with my path."

In reality, what he was thinking was that he could make it safe through his own dissection and research.

But he would not allow the manipulators behind such a "seed" that inevitably harbors deep-seated hidden dangers to have their way.

A hint of approval flashed in Mrs. Allen's eyes, and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly:

“The wise choice is to arrange for it to be sent to the Crystal Spire, where there are facilities specifically for handling such items. They will report this discovery to the Court of Truth, where it will be handled by the great wizards who truly understand the mysteries of the Abyss.”

Just then, hurried footsteps came from outside, accompanied by several powerful energy fluctuations.

The door was pushed open roughly, and Hayek and Yuni rushed in, their robes stained with blood and remnants of abyssal energy, clearly having just arrived from some battlefield.

Hayek's gaze quickly swept across the room.

Upon seeing the blood-red bead floating on the ground and Ron's indifferent expression, a hint of shock and confusion flashed in his eyes.

"The intruders...have they already been defeated by you?"

Hayek's voice was filled with disbelief: "That man who possessed the Holy Disc blessed by the Supreme Apostle, just like that, you..."

"Ron, are you okay?"

Yuni asked worriedly, her purple eyes gleaming with concern.

Her gaze quickly scanned Ron's entire body, as if to check if he was injured.

“I’m fine,” Ron simply replied.
“Mr. Holy Disc came disguised as Holt, probably to lure me to the Bloodline Altar. Fortunately, I sensed the anomaly in advance through my special talent and defeated him before he completed his apostle transformation.”

Hayek and Yuni exchanged a shocked look, clearly incredulous at the power Ron had displayed.

"What about Soren? He's supposed to be in charge of guarding the Bloodline Altar." Madam Allen frowned, then suddenly asked, "How is he?"

Hayek's expression instantly turned serious:
"The situation is not optimistic. He was ambushed by the Holy Disc at the Bloodline Altar, his heart was ripped out, and he is barely surviving on a 'Tear of the Heart'."

"Currently, he has temporarily delayed the complete collapse of the seal by relying on his own will, buying us some time."

Yuni added, her eyes glistening with grief, "But his condition is extremely dangerous; he needs immediate intensive treatment, otherwise..."

Ron's expression turned serious: "I'll go take a look. Maybe I can help."

Hayek and Eunice wanted to say something when they heard Ron volunteer, but they swallowed their words when they thought of his incredible achievements.

He turned to Mrs. Allen: "Madam, I must attend to this emergency first. It concerns the Throne Seed."

"I'll take care of it."

Mrs. Allen interrupted, a long-unseen firmness appearing on her face:

"Go and help Sauron without worry."

Ron nodded, then left with Hayek and Yuni, heading towards the Bloodline Altar.

When only Mrs. Allen and the three young people remained in the room, Lilia cautiously stepped forward:

"Mrs. Allen, about what just happened, we..."

"Don't worry, child."

Mrs. Allen smiled slightly, her emerald eyes sparkling with wisdom:
“The three of you are people Ron cares about, so you are naturally qualified to know these things. But we have more important things to do next—prepare to leave here.”

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the outline of the black mist jungle was beginning to distort, clearly indicating that the leakage of abyssal energy was starting to affect the entire school:

"The Black Mist School will likely find it difficult to survive this disaster."

………………

The seventh level of the abyss, the "Abyss of Souls".

The thirteen thrones are arranged in a distorted eye shape, with a gray vortex in the center still slowly rotating.

But it was more active than before, emitting a deep rumble, like the snoring of a sleeping giant.

Magus's body, composed of countless black threads, trembled slightly, and the nine eyes on his mask flashed simultaneously, emitting different colors of light.

"It seems your plan has failed."

A cold voice came from the tenth throne, a strange entity pieced together from countless bones, its sound like shattering glass.

"The seed you personally selected, the messenger you personally blessed, was defeated by a newly promoted official wizard."

On the fifth throne, the woman bound by chains let out a sharp laugh: "What a pity, Magus."

The other apostles on the thrones joined in the mockery, offering their opinions on the failure of the operation.

Some mocked, some gloated, and others shook their heads and sighed with feigned sympathy.

Despite the taunts, Magus remained outwardly calm, the nine eyes on his spider mask flashing in turn, as if calculating something.

But beneath that calm exterior, an anxiety that was hard to conceal was spreading.

“The plan hasn’t completely failed,” Magus finally spoke, his voice as usual:
“We have confirmed that Ron Ralph does indeed possess the potential to become the Fourteenth High Apostle. His performance has even exceeded expectations—being able to defeat the Holy Disc that holds the Blessing in his newly ascended state demonstrates his extraordinary talent.”

"so what?"

The dragon-headed apostle on the third throne sneered, his golden eyes flashing with mockery:
"If the seed is discovered and destroyed over there, and the Holy Plate is killed, we will lose a valuable piece but gain nothing."

Magus's silken body expanded slightly, seemingly expressing a kind of dissatisfaction:
"That's not the case. Whether Ron Ralph chooses to keep it or hand it over, the abyssal aura within the seed has already seeped in, and this connection cannot be erased."

"Even so, we cannot influence him in the short term."

The liquid metal creature on the seventh seat emitted a buzzing sound and its form kept changing: "Unless he willingly steps into the abyss, we cannot directly intervene."

Magus's nine eyes flickered simultaneously, emitting a profound light:

“This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. Ron Ralph has the nature of an explorer; his soul yearns for knowledge and power. Sooner or later, he will willingly step into the abyss to seek the answers that only we can provide.”

"Have you forgotten the surveillance of those witch kings and high wizards?"

The Dragon-Headed Apostle retorted, "Especially now, a Primal Wizard who has ascended through the Authentic Path will inevitably attract the attention of the Court of Truth. Any attempt we make may arouse the vigilance of those old guys."

Magus was silent for a moment, then the eyes on his mask dimmed:
“We cannot act directly right now. But time is on our side—the abyss is awakening, and the boundaries are becoming blurred. One day, we will no longer be bound by these limitations.”

The thrones fell silent, each apostle lost in their own thoughts.

They all knew that for awakened beings like the Holy Disc, who could be sent out, reaching near the Dark Sun level in a short period of time through special means was already the limit.

Those who are stronger Awakened Ones and Apostles are all registered and have names; any slight disturbance from them will result in them being besieged and wiped out by the wizarding world.

And the power of these supreme apostles is also difficult to extend beyond the abyss.

"Now we can only hope that Ron Ralph leaves behind the seed of the throne and that one day he will come to the abyss to explore it."

Magus finally said, his voice a mix of anticipation and barely perceptible annoyance: "Only then will we have a chance to make our move."

The gray vortex suddenly began to spin violently, emitting a deafening roar, as if in response to the discussion.

The thirteen Supreme Apostles immediately stopped talking and turned to the vortex, their eyes filled with both awe and fear.

"It seems to have become more active."

The chained woman on the fifth seat whispered, a hint of unease in her voice: "It has never been so restless since the end of the Third Era."

Magus's silken body slightly contracted, an instinctive defensive posture:
"Perhaps the timeframe is much shorter than we imagine. In any case, we must find the successor to the Fourteenth Apostle as soon as possible, whether it is Ron Ralph or another potential candidate."

The chained woman glanced at Magus, a hint of mockery flashing in her silver eyes:
"You don't still cling to that absurd hope, do you? That the Fourteenth Throne can change our fate?"

Magus did not respond; the nine eyes on the spider mask went out one by one, as if he had fallen into a state of deep thought.

In the world of the Supreme Apostles, hope is a luxury, or even a dangerous delusion.

But at this moment, Magus could not deny that within his "heart," composed of countless threads, there did indeed exist a faint but tenacious hope.

The Fourteenth Throne might really be able to change something.

(End of this chapter)