Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 536 Self-Destruction Slow
He recalled the pure joy Fenrir displayed when Nari's creations went out of control.

It wasn't the joy of seeing success, but simply the excitement of witnessing destruction.

And the expression on his face when he smashed the lump of flesh just now—that sense of satisfaction far exceeded the creation itself.

"I understand……"

The light bulb in his mind was completely lit:
“Fenrir’s true nature here is not that of a creator; he is a complete destroyer.”

"What do you mean?" Acelia looked at him in confusion.

“He asked us to ‘create’ toys, but what he really wanted were objects to destroy.”

Ron's voice grew increasingly firm:

"Something that allows him to continuously enjoy the process of destruction."

The more we try to create perfect, lasting creations, the further we stray from his true needs.

Acelia also began to realize something:
"So the more we try to create 'order,' the more we go against its nature."

"That's right. The key to solving the problem is not 'addition,' but precisely 'subtraction.'"

Ron turned to look at the grotesque, contorted creatures crawling out of the furnace:

"Fenrir's process of creating these failed products was itself adding fuel to the fire that was spiraling out of control."

If we can stop this vicious cycle…

He walked toward the painful, pieced-together creatures, without adding any new elements.

He reached out and began to gently peel away the superfluous, conflicting body parts.

The first creature was a rabbit that had been forcibly fitted with butterfly wings.

The wings were completely mismatched with the rabbit's body structure, and each flap of the wings tore flesh apart.

Ron carefully separated the wings, then used a zero-ring minor injury treatment to stabilize the rabbit's vital organs.

Once the wings were completely removed, the rabbit stopped struggling and quietly curled up on the ground.

The energy fluctuations in the furnace subsided somewhat.

Fenrir watched with great interest at first.

But soon, the smile on his face vanished, replaced by confusion and rage:
"What are you doing?! Stop! This is repair! This isn't creation! This is so boring!"

Ron ignored his roar and continued his "subtraction creation".

He came to the second creature—a fish that had been forcibly attached with octopus tentacles.

The tentacles prevented the fish from swimming normally, leaving them writhing in pain on the ground.

The process is the same as before: separate the conflicting components, stabilize the life core, and allow the organism to return to its original harmonious state.

The pressure gauge pointer in the furnace dropped another mark.

"You are ruining my work!"

Fenrir angrily brandished his wrench: "I want creation, not dismantling!"

"The rule is to create a toy that 'satisfies' you."

Ron replied without turning his head:

Isn't destruction what you're most satisfied with?
We are conducting a highly sophisticated form of 'reverse creation,' which is also known as 'deconstruction.'

He continued his work, performing "subtractive therapy" on the third and fourth twisted creatures:
"Isn't appreciating something being disassembled step by step a more advanced form of destructive art?"

Moreover, this destruction is constructive.

We dismantle pain and conflict, but retain the essence of life.

This is far more sophisticated than simple, brutal destruction.

Fenrir was rendered speechless by this logic.

He opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found himself trapped by the rules he had set for himself.

According to the challenge's design, you only need to create a toy that "satisfies" him to pass the level.

Ron's deconstruction process is indeed creating—creating harmony, creating order, creating the true nature of life.

The most crucial point is that this process does indeed make the furnace more and more stable, which proves the effectiveness of the method.

"This...this is fallacy! It's all fallacy!"

Fenrir, enraged and frustrated like someone on a ten-game losing streak, hissed:

"You're playing word games! That's not fair! None of you can pass!"

But a game is a game, and rules are rules.

No matter how dissatisfied Fenrir was, he could not deny that Ron's actions met the requirements of the challenge.

As time went on, more and more distorted creatures were "deconstructed" into a harmonious state.

The energy fluctuations in the furnace became increasingly stable, and the out-of-control state was gradually alleviated.

When the last twisted creature—a small bird forcibly fused with a crystal shell—was discovered.

When it was successfully separated into soft flesh and pure crystal, the entire furnace of life finally calmed down completely.

The violent red light faded, replaced by a gentle golden glow.

At the center of the furnace, a wrench-shaped key made of pure life energy condensed.

The key's shape is similar to Fenrir's weapon, but the aura it exudes is completely different.

Fenrir's wrench is full of destructiveness and violence, but this key contains the gentleness of creation and the compassion of life.

Ron reached out and grasped the key, and the core secrets of "creating alchemical beings with self-awareness" flooded his mind like a tidal wave.

[Gaining insight: The true meaning of "life creation"]

He deeply understood that true creation is not about imposing one's will on matter.

Rather than being a dictatorial monarch who forces everything to develop according to his own ideas, a skilled alchemist is more like a wise gardener.

They observe the nature of life, understand the needs of each being, and then guide them to self-correct and improve.

Forced fusion can only produce painful monsters, but harmonious guidance can give birth to true miracles.

This is the key step to becoming an Ancient Alchemist—not to conquer life, but to understand it.

When Ron held the wrench key and announced the successful solution, the entire Alchemy Amusement Park began to shake violently.

The earth split open like a canvas torn apart by a giant, revealing the bottomless void below.

Those amusement facilities that once carried laughter and joy—Ferris wheels, carousels, roller coasters—all disintegrated amidst the tremors.

"What's happening here?!"

Nari clung tightly to Ron, his six eyes staring in terror at the scene around him.

The whole world seemed to be being kneaded by an invisible giant hand, and the boundaries of space became blurred.

The remains of the Alchemy Amusement Park reassembled in mid-air, forming a completely new and terrifying spatial structure.

This is a circular platform suspended in the air.

The platform was pieced together from countless rusty metal plates, twisted skeletons, and broken pipes, with a dark red, unidentified liquid seeping from every joint.

The entire structure looked precarious, as if it would fall apart at any moment under the influence of gravity.

Ron simply nodded to his two family members and walked alone toward the center of the arena.

He knew that, according to the rules of the trial, the next step was the boss battle.

As he expected, Fenrir jumped off the throne, the wrench trembling in his hand.

"Nonsense! All nonsense! What rubbish about deconstruction art! What lousy compassion for life!"

He raised the wrench and pointed it at Ron:

"Now, I'm going to take apart this 'toy' of yours with my own hands! Let's see if you can still continue with your twisted logic and heresies!"

As he spoke, a terrifying change was taking place in his body.

The original human form began to swell and twist, with muscle tissue proliferating wildly.

The bones made a "crackling" sound as they reshaped their structure.

His limbs became thicker, his hands turned into claws, and his entire body transformed into the form of a four-legged beast.

Metal implants protruded from his flesh, wriggling on his body like parasites.

Those original scars have turned into hideous armor plates, each one radiating a menacing red glow.

What was most terrifying were his eyes. His original two eyes had split into six scarlet compound eyes, each burning with pure rage and destructive desire.

When these eyes simultaneously gaze at a target, a subtle distortion occurs in the air.

"Little bug..."

Fenrir's voice became thunderous, each syllable accompanied by a harsh, metallic scraping sound:
"You think you can escape my grasp by solving those childish puzzles? Here, only the strong survive!"

The battle is about to break out.

Fenrir let out a roar.

The sound echoed in the enclosed space.

The roar alone caused the rubble at the edge of the platform to fall faster, and the entire arena trembled.

His hind legs suddenly exerted force, and his four sharp claws left deep scratches on the metal ground.

With a speed too fast for the naked eye to perceive, the behemoth charged forward like a cannonball.

During the charge, Fenrir grabbed the wrench at random.

In his hands, this already extraordinary artifact was reshaped by the power of time.

Its structure underwent millions of forging processes in a very short period of time, becoming as hard as refined gold.

A giant battle axe covered in barbs took shape in his palm.

Without the slightest hesitation, Fenrir swung the Grim Reaper's Axe fiercely at his opponent.

If this strike hits, it would be enough to split a mountain into a chasm.

The danger in his bloodline flashed a red light, but Ron simply waved his hand lightly in front of him, like a conductor waving his baton.

A phantom slowly rose from behind him.

That was none other than Laira, dressed in a gray robe, her face blank like a canvas.

Although it was just a projection, the illusionary energy emanating from her was still chilling.

That blank face sometimes showed various expressions in the dim light, and sometimes returned to nothingness.

When Fenrir saw that familiar figure, his charge came to a halt.

Although he was currently consumed by rage, he still retained basic rationality.

The hunting bond between the hounds made him instinctively sense the presence of his former companions.

"Laira?!"

His voice was filled with confusion and disbelief:
"You...how did you get here? Shouldn't you be like me..."

Before he could finish speaking, Fenrir suddenly realized something.

Although the projection had the aura of Laira, it lacked the most important thing—an independent will.

This is merely a manipulated puppet, a cruel imitation created by the enemy.

Ron's projected Laira, however, did not hesitate at all and quickly charged towards the opponent.

她的动作像在跳舞，每一步都踏在空气上，如履平地。

A flicker of pain crossed Fenrir's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an even stronger rage.

"Damn blasphemer!"

He gritted his teeth and slashed at Leila's projection without the slightest hesitation.

Since this is just a trick by the enemy, let him end it himself!
When the giant axe met the projection, the expected carnage did not occur.

The moment they made contact, Leira's projection transformed into a dazzling yet illusory dreamlike mist, spreading out like a popped soap bubble.

The mist shimmered with iridescent colors, so beautiful it was mesmerizing.

But beneath this beauty lies a deadly trap.

The mist engulfed the giant axe and Fenrir's charge, like a hungry maw devouring everything.

Under Ron's remote control, the fog began to collapse violently inward.

The air was compressed, producing a piercing shriek, and the energy density reached a critical point in a short time.

immediately--

"boom!"

A deafening explosion erupted in the center of the arena.

This was a "self-destruction" targeting the spirit and consciousness.

Countless fragments of illusion, like invisible blades, relentlessly slashed at Fenrir's sensory system.

Each fragment carries with it the resentment and pain of Leira's life, drilling into the depths of the enemy's mind like a curse.

Fenrir let out a mournful howl and burst forth from the heart of the mist.

A faint, iridescent halo had enveloped his body, swirling around it like the aurora borealis.

This is the persistent corrosive effect of Lyra's Dreamlike Aura, like a leech constantly twisting Fenrir's perception.

His vision began to blur, his hearing became indistinct, and even his judgment of distance and direction became inaccurate.

However, even weakened, Fenrir's rage remains unstoppable.

Being tricked by his comrades' projections and harmed by the enemy's schemes only fueled the rage in his heart.

He unleashed all his anger and murderous intent on Ron, launching a barrage of attacks like a storm.

Without his giant axe, Fenrir used his claws as weapons.

Its four front paws drew sharp arcs in the air.

His attack frequency was astonishingly fast; almost every time a sonic boom occurred, a dozen fatal attacks would fall.

Ron didn't trust his own fluid barrier and immediately took evasive action.

Having already suffered a loss in his previous battle with Laila, he dared not gamble again.

These hounds' attacks are extremely vicious, and most of them have armor-piercing effects.

However, the opponent's attack was far more bizarre than he had imagined.

Even though his superhuman perception allowed him to anticipate and dodge the claw attack, an invisible force of time still spread out.

This power, like a colorless and odorless poison gas, silently seeps into every corner of the battlefield.

Ron felt his thoughts and movements become as sluggish as if he were stuck in a quagmire.

His once agile body began to become clumsy, and the flow of magic power also dropped sharply.

Even the most basic reaction ability was severely affected, as if the whole person had been put on slow motion.

Fenrir seized this golden opportunity, and the subsequent attacks came down like a torrential downpour.

Claws, impacts, stomps—every attack carries a terrifying killing intent.

Moreover, these attacks all had a time-slowing effect, making it impossible for Ron to effectively counterattack.

Ron could only rely on [Time Jump] to barely dodge.

However, Fenrir's time-slowing effect still exists, making each jump extremely difficult.

The time energy stored in the pocket watch is being rapidly depleted; at this rate, it can only last for another dozen or so rounds at most.

The situation took a sharp turn for the worse...

He was completely overwhelmed and could only awkwardly maneuver around on the constantly collapsing platform.

Every dodge is like dancing on a knife's edge; every mistake could mean death.

The edges of the arena continue to crumble, leaving less and less room to maneuver.

Nari and Azalea, standing nearby, were extremely anxious.

They desperately wanted to rush over and help, but reason told them that now was not the time.

According to the previous agreement, they would only provide assistance if Ron actively called out to them through telepathy.

Both Azalea's Dragon Language Intimidation and Nari's Chaos Power Amplification can only be most effective when the enemy is completely unprepared.

Revealing your hand too early will only give Fenrir time to prepare, which would be counterproductive.

They could only grit their teeth and watch Ron struggle on the brink of life and death...

(End of this chapter)