Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 559 Borrowing chickens to lay eggs
Vinard's words were like a precisely dropped bomb, creating a void in the deepest part of Ron's consciousness.

"He has passed away."

Each of the three words was like an enchanted blade, slowly and precisely cutting through his defenses of reason.

Ron's pupils contracted slightly.

The magic within him began to vibrate uncontrollably.

The air began to stir; the parchment on the table moved on its own without any wind, and the ink bottle began to tremble slightly.

Just as his emotions were about to reach a breaking point, the "cool ring" on his right ring finger suddenly emitted a burst of icy energy.

That was an extremely special magical effect.

It's like sprinkling a handful of snowmelt from the far north onto a burning flame of the spirit, freezing, settling, and calming those raging emotions.

This seemingly simple alchemical artifact reveals its true value at this moment.

Professor Utter encapsulates his understanding of "calmness" and his dedication to "reason" in this small ring.

Ron took a deep breath, feeling the cool sensation flowing through his heart.

His expression returned to calm, with only his slightly pale knuckles revealing the true turmoil within him.

"Thank you for letting me know this, Professor Vinard."

His voice was so steady it barely rose and fell, as if he were discussing a routine lab report:

"May I ask, what was the standard of the funeral?"

A flicker of approval crossed Vinard's mechanical eyes.

He admired this restraint, this maturity that buried personal emotions deep beneath reason.

In the wizarding world, only those who can control their emotions are worthy of controlling greater power.

"The highest-level 'sage's funeral'."

Vinard spoke slowly, while simultaneously activating an image crystal:
“Cassandra personally presided over the ceremony, with thirteen Dark Sun Wizards carrying the coffin together. The empty coffin was laid to rest in the Pantheon, to sleep alongside the wise men of the past.”

An empty coffin.

These two words caused Ron's heart to ache slightly.

He knows what this means.

Professor Yutel's body had completely turned into light, leaving not a trace of material residue.

This is true "return to nothingness," the most thorough way for great wizards to depart.

Vinard continued playing the video.

The bowing of tens of thousands of people in Truth Square, Cassandra in her simple black robe after shedding her glamorous attire, Eve following behind her mother with tearful eyes...

Each scene is like a meticulously crafted fragment of memory, piecing together a grand yet sorrowful farewell.

"Before his death, Senior Yutel asked me to pass on a message to you."

Vinard walked to the window and gazed at the crystal tree in the distance:

He said that the transmission of knowledge is like passing on a spark.

What matters is not how long a single torch can burn, but how many new flames it can ignite.

Ron gently stroked the ring.

The cooling spell was still in effect, allowing him to examine the emotional turmoil within him from an almost detached perspective.

Sadness, regret, self-blame...

These emotions are temporarily frozen deep within the consciousness, waiting for the right moment to erupt.

But not now, not in front of Vinard.

“Professor Vinard.” Ron looked up, his eyes now clear.

"I think we need to have a more frank exchange about the deeper truth behind the Resentment Vein."

Vinard raised an eyebrow slightly. "Please speak."

Ron described in detail what he had seen in the echoes of history.

The cruelty of human sacrifice, the removal of organs, the cultivation of resentment...

Every detail is precise and ruthless, as sharp as a scalpel.

However, he noticed that Vinard's expression did not show the expected shock.

The data flowing through those mechanical eyes was smooth and orderly.

It was as if these shocking truths merely confirmed a pre-existing suspicion to him.

"Your discovery is very valuable."

Vinard spoke slowly, his tone carrying a subtle reserve:
"In fact, this aligns with the findings of our secret investigation over the years."

"follow me."

The two followed the familiar path and arrived once again at the secret room used to sign the confidentiality agreement.

"This is all the records of our investigations on the planet Sifu."

Vinard waved his hand, and an exceptionally large crystal slowly descended:
"Including archaeological discoveries, historical tracing, energy analysis... it's all accumulated over a hundred years, and it's all here."

Once activated, the crystal projected a historical timeline.

From the primitive civilization of the Stoves Planet, to the Dark Ages ruled by priests, and now to the aristocratic-worker system...

Every historical node was marked in detail, but Ron astutely noticed that several key connection points were deliberately obscured.

“Based on our analysis,” Vinard pointed to a certain area of ​​the network diagram:

About five hundred years ago, a 'civilization gap' occurred on the planet Stoker.

The original priestly class vanished overnight, replaced by the current ruling structure.

He retrieved another document:
"Official records claim that this was a 'popular uprising' that overthrew the tyrannical theocratic rule."

But all the archaeological evidence suggests that this was more like a premeditated 'deliberate retreat'.

Ron carefully observed the data, his Observer's Eye constantly analyzing the layers of information within it.

Soon, he discovered an interesting phenomenon.

All the core data has undergone some kind of special encryption process.

This encryption method is extremely sophisticated; even with his abilities, he can only see the surface information.

And the truly crucial content:

For example, the sources of information about the coordinates of the stoker star, the sources of information about the deeper history, and certain terms that are repeatedly mentioned but deliberately avoided are all cleverly hidden.

“An interesting discovery,” Ron said, feigning thoughtfulness.

“But I have a question. If the priestly class really just ‘retired,’ then where are they now?”

Vinard paused for a moment, then pulled up a star chart.

"Based on our speculation, they may have moved into a more secretive form of existence."

Instead of direct rule, they control the direction of civilization through some form of indirect influence.

Indirect impact.

Ron chewed on the word, a chill running down his spine.

He recalled the millennia-old resentment he had felt in the Symphony of Souls, and the pain and despair that had been carefully "cultivated".

"Professor, you mentioned that the current ruling structure of the Stoker Star is being 'supported'."

Ron asked tentatively, "So, who is supporting them? And what is their purpose?"

Vinard's mechanical fingers tapped rapidly, bringing up a document labeled "Speculative Analysis".

"This is just my personal speculation, and there is no solid evidence."

He specifically emphasized:
"There may be some kind of... higher-level existence that uses the entire Stoker Star as some kind of 'experimental field' or 'petri dish'."

Ron noticed that when Vinard spoke of "a higher level of existence," he slowed down his speech significantly, as if he were carefully considering each word.

"The purpose of this existence may be to collect some kind of special 'resource'. And the pollution in the Resentment Mine is precisely the manifestation of this resource."

Vinard continued:
“They ‘nourish’ these special mineral veins by manipulating the rise and fall of civilizations and constantly creating pain and despair.”

Ron nodded, while quickly analyzing the situation in his mind.

Vinard certainly knows far more than he says.

Those deliberately avoided details, those vague speculations, all point to a more terrifying truth.

But for some reason, perhaps a confidentiality agreement, political considerations, or simply distrust...

He chose to show only the tip of the iceberg.

"A very insightful analysis."

Ron perfectly portrayed being persuaded:

"This does explain many anomalies."

However, if such a mastermind truly exists, wouldn't our intervention be...?

"Just what I wanted?"

Vinard picked up the conversation, a bitter smile playing on his lips:

"That's right, we are very likely part of the 'design' as well."

The intervention of foreign civilizations will bring about larger-scale conflicts and produce "higher-quality" spiritual nourishment.

He walked to the window and gazed at the distant settlement of the stokers:

"But we have no other choice."

If left unchecked, they will continue this cycle;

Forced intervention could trigger an even greater disaster.

Therefore, I chose the third path—gradual integration of civilizations.

Ron nodded to himself.

Vinard's strategy was indeed brilliant, using education and cultural infiltration to change the social structure of Stoker's Star.

While avoiding large-scale conflict, gradually dismantle the "training program" of that mysterious entity.

But he also realized that the materials Vinard showed him had been carefully selected.

Most of the information stored in those crystals can probably be found in similar versions in the public library of the main world.

The truly core secret:
For example, the casting technology of "Star-Forged Titan", the extraction process of high-purity "Magic Stone", and the construction principle of the entire Cuihuan No. 2 ecosystem were not mentioned at all.

It's like a carefully orchestrated deal.

Vinard showed enough "sincerity" to make Ron feel valued and trusted.

In reality, all he gave up was publicly available information, and his core interests remained completely unaffected.

Ron brought with him the "Symphony of Souls" theory and the technique for purifying resentment.

However, it is a genuine innovative achievement, a technological bottleneck that Vinard's team had been unable to overcome for decades.

Borrowing a chicken to lay eggs.

Ron smiled bitterly to himself.

This great wizard's plan was truly ingenious; he used information that everyone else could obtain to achieve a unique technological breakthrough.

But Ron did not feel cheated or taken advantage of.

Because he understood the essence of the deal from the very beginning.

He came here to learn, accumulate experience, and build connections.

Vinard provided the platform, resources, and opportunities.

He contributed technology and innovation, and everyone got what they needed in a fair and reasonable way.

What truly caused him a dull ache was the thought of Professor Utter.

The old man never withheld any knowledge from him, nor did he hold back any skills during his teaching.

Every lesson taught was a complete sharing of knowledge, and every guidance came from the heart.

There was no scheming, no trading, only the purest expectations and care of an elder for the younger generation.

Ron lowered his head, his fingertips gently tracing the patterns on the cool ring. The metallic touch was cold and real, just like Yutel's character—simple, pure, and always thinking of his students.

This seemingly simple ring is probably more valuable than all the "secrets" that Vinard has shown.

“Professor Vinard.” Ron raised his head again, his eyes clear and firm:
"I have some thoughts to share regarding the 'third way' you mentioned."

He began to articulate his insights, without touching on core secrets, but enough to demonstrate the depth of his thinking.

This is another form of trade—exchanging wisdom for opportunity, and talent for a stage.

Vinard listened attentively, occasionally nodding in approval.

This is how two intelligent people talk.

They both know what the other is thinking and understand the rules of the game, yet they can still find a balance in their cooperation.

As Ron rose to leave after the meeting, Vinard suddenly said:
“Ron, Professor Yutel is indeed a true sage.”

Becoming his student is your good fortune, but also your responsibility.

Ron didn't speak, he just nodded.

He stepped out of the secret room and stood alone in the empty corridor.

Within the cool ring, the cold, rational magic was slowly fading.

Those emotions that had been temporarily frozen began to thaw, like a beast about to break free of its cage.

He did not return to his dormitory immediately.

Instead, they headed towards the wastelands on the edge of the colony.

He needs a secluded place to hold a funeral that only he knows about.

He wanted to bid farewell to Professor Utter in a way unique to wizards, to do so truly and thoroughly.

The moonlight spilled onto the wasteland, just like the scene on that day when the other person turned into light and disappeared.

Ron stood quietly in the middle of the wasteland, took a deep breath, and then slowly stretched out his hands.

"Winter...is coming."

By reversing the fire element, a visible white frost ring spreads out from him!
Moisture in the air condensed into ice crystals, the ground was covered with a thick layer of white frost, and the surrounding temperature plummeted to a level where mortals could not survive.

He recreated the scene from his dream, transforming the surroundings into a real snow country in that instant.

Immerse yourself once again in that biting, helpless cold.

On this "snowfield" he created with his own hands, Ron stretched out his right hand.

A cluster of flames suddenly ignited in his palm.

This flame is not made of elements; its fuel is "memory".

Within the flames, scenes flickered:
When they first met, Professor Utter peeked out from the portrait and almost startled him:
"Just mentioning my name makes my old bones itch!"

In Eve's little house, the professor's solemn expression as he explained the history of the "Blood Lord" to them.

And then, before their final farewell, the professor patted him on the shoulder and uttered those words filled with expectation:
"Go, child. Remember, no matter how far you go, you are not fighting alone."

Ron named this cluster of flames the "Flame of Legacy".

It is warm, bright, and full of power and wisdom—all that Professor Utter left him.

Then he extended his left hand.

Similarly, a cluster of flames ignited.

But this cluster of flames had a cold, almost transparent blue color.

Within the flames, a different scene flickers:
In the dream, I saw the professor struggling to light a flame in the wind and snow.

In the video, the professor slowly turns into light dust on the podium in his final moments.

And... the deepest "regret" in his own heart—the regret of not being able to witness it firsthand or say goodbye in person.

That "goodbye" that could never be said, that deep bow that could never be completed.

He called this cluster of flames the "Flame of Remembrance".

It burns, yet exudes a chill, representing all emotions associated with "loss" and "sadness".

Ron looked at the two distinct flames in his hands and began to recreate the scene from his dream.

He did not attempt to extinguish the cold "fire of remembrance" with the warm "fire of inheritance".

Instead, he carefully and gently touched the "Flame of Remembrance" in his left hand with the flame in his right hand, which represented "inheritance".

Just like in the dream, Professor Yutel passed on his fire to him.

However, what happened next was the complete opposite of the dream.

The "flame of remembrance" did not become brighter when it came into contact with the "flame of inheritance".

Instead, as if it had completed some kind of mission, the sorrowful images in the flames began to soften.

Those painful images gradually transformed into a tranquil light, fading away piece by piece.

In the end, it turned into a wisp of smoke and dissipated in the snowfield that Ron himself had created.

The "flame of inheritance" in his right hand burned even more brightly and firmly after this farewell ceremony.

The flames pierced through the surrounding frost and snow, illuminating the desolate wasteland.

Ron slowly closed his eyes.

The dream is the professor's passive farewell, filled with regret.

In reality, he himself must take the initiative and act with full will to complete this handover.

He couldn't let the teacher's fire go out.

He had to extinguish his own grief.

Then take that inheritance and let it burn brighter in your hands than ever before.

This is how a wizard should say goodbye:

It is not a passive mourning, but an active passing on of traditions.

The wind stopped.

The frost ring slowly dissipated.

The wasteland returned to silence, with only the "Flame of Inheritance" in his hand still burning quietly.

Ron slowly closed his eyes.

He took one last look at the spot where the "flame of remembrance" had gone out.

There was nothing there, but he knew that the sorrow had been sublimated.

He took a deep breath and turned to walk toward the colony.

His steps were firm, and his gaze was clear.

I still have a lot to do.

"Baby, are you alright?"

Nari's cautious voice echoed in his mind.

She was clearly worried, but dared not disturb his mourning.

"I'm okay now, Mom."

Ron's voice was still a little hoarse, but it had regained its firmness:
"Death is the end, but also the beginning."

The professor's life has ended, but his spirit will live on in me.

"That's very philosophical."

A rare moment when Aseria didn't make a sarcastic remark:

"But what are your plans next? What about Vinard...?"

“I’ve figured out the rules of the game, Vinard.”

Ron was tidying up the documents on the table:
"Borrowing a hen to lay eggs, each getting what they need."

He needs technological breakthroughs, and I need platforms and resources.

This is simply a transaction; as long as the price is right, there's nothing unacceptable.

“But,” he paused.
"Beyond this deal, I want to build my own things..."

Carlos's voice suddenly rang out:

“Master, if I may be so bold, your idea is wonderful.”

But in this dog-eat-dog world, pure idealists usually don't live long.

"Who says I'm an idealist?"

Ron gave a meaningful smile:

"I just realized one thing."

True strength is not what you receive from others, but what you can give back to them.

"Professor Utter gave me knowledge and character, a gift I can never repay in my lifetime."

But I can pass it on, so that more people can have the same opportunity.

He stood up and walked to the window.

As dawn breaks, a new day is about to begin.

The natives of the Stoker Star had already begun their work, and the mixed-race apprentices were also heading towards the teaching building.

"This world is full of transactions and calculations; that's reality."

Ron muttered to himself:
"But that's precisely why selfless sincerity is all the more precious."

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Please come in."

It was Silas who pushed open the door and entered.

This former rival, now a collaborator, wore a complex expression on his face.

“Professor Ralph, Professor Vinard asked me to inform you that the second phase of the purification work can begin.”

He paused, then added:

"And... regarding Professor Yutel, please accept my condolences."

The expression of condolence was somewhat stiff, clearly indicating that Silas was not adept at expressing such emotions.

But Ron could sense the sincerity in it.

At least at this moment, there was no scheming between them, only a shared respect for a deceased sage.

“Thank you.” Ron nodded. “I’ll be ready in the next few days.”

Silas turned to leave, then stopped:

"Instructor Ralph, may I ask you a question?"

"Please say."

"Your teacher...Professor Utter, what kind of person is he?"

This question surprised Ron.

He hadn't expected Silas to be interested in this.

"he is……"

Ron thought for a moment, and finally only said four words:
"A good person."

A simple evaluation, yet it contains everything.

In this cruel world of the supernatural, a wizard who can be called a "good person" is perhaps even rarer than one who can be called a "strong person".

Silas nodded, somewhat surprised, and then left.

Ron packed up his lab equipment and got ready to go to class.

Before leaving, he glanced at the cooling ring in his hand.

The metallic luster shimmered in the morning light, like the kind gaze of an old man.

(End of this chapter)