Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 543 You Didn't Eliminate the Shadow

Time flies by on the sand table, seasons change, and civilization evolves.
Hephaestus stared at the somewhat stagnant development of the two civilizations on the sand table, nodding and then shaking his head.

"It's a relatively novel development path."

He spoke slowly: "Your Chaos Town has indeed shown considerable resilience. Unfortunately, resilience is not victory."

The Lord of Light raised his hand:
"Look at the current situation."

Your civilization, though vibrant, has always teetered on the brink of poverty and chaos;

My sages, though seemingly rigid, possess an overwhelming technological advantage.

This balance could last for a thousand years, but the final result would still be my victory.

He pointed to the sand table, where the two civilizations were indeed locked in a delicate stalemate.

Despite its constant innovation, Chaotic Town lacks a systematic development plan and has never been able to compete with the Sage City-State in terms of overall strength.

Although the sages' development has slowed down, they still maintain an absolute advantage thanks to their profound technological accumulation.

"Your civilization is dying because it stagnates, just like mine."

Hephaestus's tone became sharper: "You lack the 'spark' to break this systemic advantage."

At this point, He tapped the armrest of the throne, a look of keen interest on his face:
"Speaking of which, since you were sent here by the combined forces of 'absurdity' and 'illusion,' you must be carrying that madman's 'toy' with you, right?"

The pressure in the air suddenly increased.

"Now I'll allow you to use it, no..."

Hephaestus's voice became firm and unyielding: "I command you to use it."

“Show me the kind of chaos that you’re talking about, the kind that can give birth to life, not just pure destruction.”

"Prove to me that you are better than that Hector who only knows how to cause trouble."

As soon as he finished speaking, an invisible force extracted something from Ron's body.

It was a die—the paradoxical die.

It slowly spun in mid-air before falling into Hephaestus's hand.

"This is the 'weapon' that Hector once used to wreak havoc on my labyrinth."

The King of Perfection toyed with the die in his hand, then casually tossed it back to his opponent.

"Now, let me see what you can do with it."

Ron reached out and took the Paradox Dice, feeling the immense power it contained.

He could sense that the die was in a special activated state.

Just now, in the instant it was in Hephaestus's hands, its power was amplified several times.

“Carlos,” he asked in his mind.
What advice do you have for this situation?

"According to my calculations, the success rate of directly wishing for 'victory' in the game is extremely low."

Carlos's voice came from the pocket watch, still maintaining its rational analysis:

“Saint Hephaestus has clearly prepared for all possible outcomes.”

"So perhaps what we need is not victory, but change."

Azalea whispered in Ron's arms:
"There's an old saying among dragons: 'When you can't change the rules, change the game itself.'"

Nari's voice was full of worry:

“Honey, I don’t like this feeling. That guy with the glowing head is obviously plotting something.”

Ron took a deep breath and made his decision.

He raised the paradoxical die and silently made a wish in his heart:

“I need a variable that neither side can predict or control—a factor that can truly change this deadlock.”

The dice began to spin in his hand, faster and faster, until they became a blurry blur of light and shadow.

With a final soft click, the dice stopped spinning.

What emerges is a result that makes one's heart sink suddenly—"1".

The worst possible score, a symbol of bad luck.

In an instant, a terrifying, chilling aura emanated from the dice, coiling around his soul like the tentacles of death.

It was a malice from the depths of fate, as if the entire universe was mocking him with a cruel laugh.

"Could it be that I guessed wrong?" His voice trembled slightly.

Nari and Azalea also sensed the ominous aura and nervously moved closer to him.

Even Carlos made a surprised sound from the pocket watch:
"This level of misfortune has exceeded the range of normal probability."

Hephaestus looked at the result and a contemptuous smile appeared on his face:
"It seems even 'absurdity' has abandoned you. Perhaps this is your punishment for that presumptuous answer just now."

However, at this moment of despair, a familiar laugh suddenly rang out in the air:
"Hehehe~ Little guy, how could you let us down at such a crucial moment?"

A phantom made of smoke slowly coalesced above the dice.

He wore a comical top hat and held a cane adorned with small bells, exuding the smugness of someone who had successfully pulled off a prank.

It is a projection of Saint Hector, the king of absurdity.

"Aha! I caught you!" The King of Absurdity pointed to the dice:
"This isn't the outcome I planned! Someone's pulling strings behind the scenes!"

As he spoke, He gently moved the dice with his cane.

Amidst a burst of flashing colored light, the numbers on the dice began to change wildly.

2, 3, 4... finally stopped at "6".

"Tap tap~ The best luck points!" The King of Absurdity waved his cane triumphantly:

"This is how my masterpiece should look!"

Hephaestus's face darkened.

As someone who strives for absolute perfection, he detests this kind of arbitrary, rule-breaking interference the most.

"Hector!" He roared in fury, "How dare you show your face before me!"

"Oh? You're angry, you're angry~"

The king of absurdity makes an exaggerated expression of fear, his eyes full of mockery:

"But dear senior Hephaestus, have you forgotten? My very nature is to break all established rules. To make me obey others is simply too..."

Before the words were even finished, Hephaestus had already reached his limit.

He slapped down hard, and terrifying power surged towards the phantom of the King of Absurdity like a tsunami.

"Ugh—!" The King of Absurdity screamed as his phantom began to disintegrate.

But at the very last moment before it vanished, it winked slyly, and its entire body suddenly "exploded" into a dazzling firework.

The fireworks burst in the sky, forming a simple, cartoonish face: sticking out a long tongue and blinking an eye.

"Hehehe~ Goodbye, senior! Remember to be happy every day~"

His farewell words, accompanied by his signature sardonic laughter, faded away completely.

Hephaestus trembled with rage:
"That damn clown! Even at a time like this, he still..."

But the effects of the dice have already begun to appear.

In an instant, the entire starry sea trembled.

A breathtakingly beautiful comet slowly streaks across the sky above the sand table from the depths of nothingness.

This comet itself has no physical form; it is entirely composed of rainbow-colored dust particles, making it dreamlike and breathtakingly beautiful.

It silently traversed time and space, leaving a magnificent trail in the skies above two civilizations.

“Dream Dust.” Hephaestus murmured the name, somewhat surprised:

"This is a development I didn't expect."

The shimmering, multicolored dust particles drifted down like snowflakes, gently covering the two civilizations.

These dust particles are completely invisible and intangible to the observer inside the sand table.

Only "outsiders" like Ron and Hephaestus can see their true form.

But even though they are invisible, all life can feel their influence.

The dust of dreams, a catalyst for the subconscious, an amplifier of the deepest desires in our hearts.

For those sages long bound by reason and logic, the arrival of Dream Dust was like a silent plague. Those first to be affected were the mages who immersed themselves day and night in their research of spells.

High up in the tower, an old mage studying the balance of elements is conducting his daily routine experiment.

For decades, he has followed the exact same steps, used the exact same incantation, and summoned the exact same flame.

This mechanical repetition allowed his spells to achieve near-perfect precision.

However, as the dust of dreams seeped into the depths of his consciousness, the emotions he had suppressed for decades began to awaken.

He recalled the passion of his first love, that pure emotion that could make a flame burn even brighter;
The yearning for the unknown, the urge to explore dangerous spells forbidden by the code...

Why should I keep repeating the same experiment?

The old monk stopped what he was doing and stared at the flame in his palm:
"These flames...aren't they more beautiful?"

He began to try to guide spells with emotion, rather than cold formulas.

When passion replaces logic and intuition replaces calculation, miracles happen.

The flames were no longer the standard orange-red, but had transformed into a rainbow of colors, like the aurora borealis.

They danced in the air like living things, forming beautiful and intricate patterns.

But at the same time, disaster followed.

His out-of-control emotions prevented him from accurately controlling the power of his spells.

Seven-colored flames cascaded down like a waterfall, instantly engulfing all the books in the laboratory.

Half of the library in the Emerald Tower was reduced to ashes, and countless precious research materials vanished into thin air.

"Stop!" The other mages rushed to stop him, only to find that their usually most composed colleague had completely fallen into a state of fanaticism.

"You don't understand!" the old monk shouted fervently.

"This is the true form of magic! This is its true beauty!"

Similar scenes played out repeatedly in every corner of the Sage's City.

The previously smoothly functioning artisan golems began to experience unprecedented "malfunctions".

In reality, these are not technical malfunctions, but simply the awakening of self-awareness by artificial intelligence under the influence of the Dream Dust.

A stone golem responsible for building maintenance suddenly stopped what it was doing and began to contemplate the meaning of its existence:

"Why should I repeat the same work day and night? Is this all there is to my life?"

Another bronze golem, responsible for organizing the library, refused to arrange the books according to the established procedure, insisting on rearranging them according to its own "aesthetic standards":
"The way these books are arranged is too rigid! They should flow like poetry!"

More serious problems arise at the level of social structure.

Those sages who had been assigned to fixed positions and performed fixed tasks for a long time began to question their role.

A scholar in charge of alchemical experiments suddenly began to doubt his research direction:
"Why must I study 'improving metal purity'? Why can't I study 'giving life to metals'?"

A monk in charge of astronomical observation became obsessed with observing the changing shapes of clouds, believing that they contained truths deeper than those of the stars.

The entire social system, which operated strictly according to the hierarchical system, began to experience systemic chaos.

Subordinates no longer unconditionally obey orders from their superiors and begin to question the rationality of those orders;
Scholars are no longer satisfied with established research areas and have begun to explore topics that are considered "impractical";

Craftsmen no longer produce products according to standard templates, but begin to pursue personalized artistic expression.

The Sage Civilization has fallen into an unprecedented state of stagnation.

Their system encountered a single, indefensible enemy—awakened individuality and free will.

In stark contrast to the plight of the sages, the dust of dreams had a completely different effect on the mixed-race refugees.

For those mixed-race individuals who are already full of contradictions and cultural differences, the dust of dreams is not only not a curse, but even a great revelation.

The conflict in their bloodline, once the source of suffering, has now become an unprecedented source of innovation.

In the Scavengers' Guild's forge, a young blacksmith with both orc and elven blood is processing a batch of scrap recovered from Grey Canyon.

When the dust of dreams descended, he was plunged into a strange dream.

In his dream, he saw the memories of his orc ancestors, those brave warriors wielding warhammers on the battlefield.

Their weapons are not merely tools of killing, but rather an extension of their life force.

Every swing unleashes an inner, primal power.

At the same time, he also sensed the ancient wisdom within the elven bloodline: a profound understanding of the rhythms of nature and a precise perception of the flow of energy.

Two distinct traditions converged in his consciousness, sparking unprecedented inspiration.

"I understand." The young blacksmith opened his eyes:

"Power should not be confined to a fixed form; it should be like life, capable of growing, changing, and adapting!"

By injecting special energy circuits into the forging process, he gradually created weapons that could change shape in battle.

An ordinary longsword can be extended into a whip when wielded;

A warhammer can break down into multiple smaller hammers upon impact and then recombine them.

These weapons certainly don't look as perfect as the sages' sophisticated magical artifacts, and they even occasionally "stuck" or "malfunctioned".

But they possess a living adaptation:
It will automatically adjust according to the user's fighting style and will continue to evolve with long-term use.

……

As the Dream Dust effect continued to unfold, the two civilizations began to exhibit drastically different development trajectories.

The city-state of the sages has fallen into deep internal divisions.

Those mages who awakened their individuality split into countless small factions, each pursuing different research directions.

Some focus on "emotional magic," believing that only magic infused with genuine emotion is perfect;

Some are obsessed with "chaotic aesthetics" and attempt to use magic to create works of art that transcend traditional understanding;
Others devoted themselves to "philosophical alchemy," regarding alchemical experiments as a philosophical approach to exploring the essence of existence.

These factions argued incessantly and even clashed on a small scale.

The once unified and efficient research system completely collapsed, and the development of the entire civilization came to a standstill.

In contrast, Chaos Town has ushered in an unprecedented period of prosperity and has begun to develop its own unique culture.

They invented "mixed music": a hybrid art form created using instruments and melodies from different ethnic groups;
They founded the "philosophy of symbiosis": a system of thought that emphasizes the interdependence and mutual growth among different entities;

They even developed a "universal language": a new way of communication that incorporates features of multiple ethnic languages.

The entire chaotic town exudes an organic vitality, with new inventions, new works of art, and new sparks of thought emerging every day.

They thrived amidst chaos, becoming the most innovative and unpredictable civilization on the sand table.

Hephaestus observed all of this silently, his expression frozen.

He watched as his meticulously constructed "top student" city-state rusted and decayed amidst internal disputes;

He watched as Ron's chaotic "failure" flourished as if it were alive.
He watched as the dust of dreams propelled the two civilizations in completely unexpected directions.

This result was neither a victory for Ron nor a victory for himself.

More accurately, this is a new beginning with no winner or loser:
Both civilizations have undergone fundamental changes, developing in directions that no one could have predicted.

After a long silence, Hephaestus waved his hand gently.

The entire sand table vanished like a dream.

Those civilizations that underwent dramatic changes, those lives that awakened self-awareness, and those inventions full of innovative spirit, all vanished into nothingness as their light faded.

"You haven't eliminated the shadows."

His voice was devoid of any emotional fluctuation; it simply stated a fact in a flat tone.

Ron's expression remained normal, but he felt a chill run down his spine.

From a technical standpoint, he did not complete the task set by Hephaestus: to eliminate the last shadow in the Kingdom of Light.

The effect of the Dream Dust was something that even he, who triggered the mechanism, found unexpected.

But in essence, it's still a draw with no clear winner.

He was slightly better than the King of Absurdity, at least he didn't end up with an absurd ending where both sides lost, but he was still far from a true victory.

How will this "Sun King" handle the outcome of this game?
Surely a powerful being of the Witch King level wouldn't be so enraged by a draw in a game?

But Ron also knew that the whims of the strong often determined the life and death of the weak.

He awaited Hephaestus's final judgment with some unease, secretly praying that the great man's magnanimity was worthy of his position.

(End of this chapter)