Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 582 Coordinates of the Chaotic Blood World
The room wasn't big, but it was very tidy.

The bookshelves against the wall were filled with various files and documents, and stacks of application forms were piled on the table.

A short, elderly man with gray hair and wearing old-fashioned round-framed glasses was sitting behind a table, intently flipping through a thick notebook.

The old man was about 1.6 meters tall, thin, and wearing a faded gray robe.

His glasses were thick, making his eyes look bigger than they actually were.

Hearing footsteps, the old man looked up.

"Is there a problem?"

His voice was a little hoarse, but his enunciation was clear:

"Apply for a rating? Bronze ring or silver ring?"

"Golden Ring".

Ron said directly.

The old man stopped moving.

He put down his notebook, took off his glasses, carefully wiped the lenses, then put them back on and scrutinized Ron intently.

The examination lasted a full half minute.

The old man's gaze slowly moved from Ron's face to his hands, then to his posture, and finally back to his eyes.

"you sure?"

His voice became serious:

"The Golden Ring assessment is no joke."

"I am sure."

The old man was silent for a moment, then stood up.

He walked to the bookshelf, took a black file box from the top shelf, and then returned to the table, slowly opening it.

The box contained a stack of blank application forms.

Please sit down.

The old man pointed to the chair opposite him:

"Before you formally apply, I need to fulfill my duty to confirm that you understand the true nature of the Golden Ring assessment."

Ron sat down and looked at the other person intently.

The old man put his glasses back on and took a small booklet out of the drawer:

“My name is Alan Grey, a Morning Star Wizard, and I have worked at this registry office for eighty-three years.”

“In 83 years, I have handled 107 applications for the Golden Ring.”

He spoke each word slowly, but each word carried weight:

"Of them, seventy-one died during the assessment."

"Thirty people suffered mental breakdowns, and even if they came back alive, they were useless."

Only six people passed the test and became Golden Ring Explorers.

The old man looked at Ron:

"The pass rate is a little over 6%."

"This data is after filtering out those obviously unqualified applicants."

"If all applicants are included, the success rate is probably less than 3%."

He furrowed his thick, long eyebrows:

"Young man, I'll ask you one more time, are you sure you want to apply for the Golden Ring assessment?"

Ron didn't hesitate: "I'm sure."

The old man gave him a deep look, then nodded:
"Alright. Since you insist, then I will fulfill my other duty—to tell you everything I know."

He opened the booklet:
"You must have already learned about the basic content of the Golden Ring assessment before you came here, so I won't repeat it."

"What I'm talking about are the things that aren't written in the rules, but are equally important."

The old man turned to the first page:
"First, regarding equipment."

"Equipment is allowed during the Golden Ring assessment, but there are strict restrictions."

"You cannot bring any items with 'autonomous combat capabilities'—such as puppets, automatic defense amulets, etc."

"You cannot bring any items that can 'significantly alter the environment'—such as portable shelters, environmental modification devices, etc."

"You cannot bring any 'one-time oversized' consumables—such as power runes made by archmages or space-tearing scrolls."

He raised his head:

"Simply put, the assessment allows you to use equipment to enhance your abilities, but does not allow you to 'borrow external help' to complete the challenge."

"You must rely on your own strength, wisdom, and judgment."

Ron nodded in understanding.

"Secondly, regarding teammates."

The old man continued:
"In the second round of teamwork, teammates are randomly assigned."

"But according to historical data, the allocation of schools of thought is not completely random; they will try to avoid grouping people with too similar abilities together."

"What they want to see is how different types of wizards can collaborate, not five wizards who are good at fire elements coming together to conjure up a bigger fireball."

"Therefore, before the second level begins, you need to quickly assess the abilities and characteristics of your teammates and find a way to cooperate."

The old man turned the page:
"Regarding the third level."

"Personal extreme challenges are tailor-made; no one can know in advance what they will face."

"But one thing is certain: the challenge will target your most vulnerable spot."

"It could be your psychological trauma, a weakness in your abilities, or a personality flaw."

"The School Alliance will gather information about you through various means in the first two stages, and then design the tests that will 'break' you the most."

"Therefore, my advice is—don't expose too many weaknesses in the first two stages."

"Of course, don't try to hide it either, or you'll be eliminated before you even get there."

"It's an art of balance."

Ron listened attentively, memorizing every detail.

The old man continued turning the page:

Fourth, regarding the abandonment mechanism.

"In the third level, you have one chance to give up voluntarily."

"But what I want to tell you is..."

His tone became very serious:

"It's best not to take this opportunity."

"why?"

Ron asked.

"Because once you use it, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

The old man took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his hands.

"I've seen too many people choose to give up in extreme challenges."

"They all lived very well afterward; some became successful scholars, some became wealthy alchemists or potion makers, and some even became masters in other fields."

"But each of them will remember that time of giving up at some point."

"I wonder if things would have turned out differently if I had persisted a little longer."

"That kind of regret will stay with them for the rest of their lives."

The old man put his glasses back on:

"So if you decide to take the exam, be prepared to give it your all."

"Either you die inside, or you successfully walk out."

"Never leave yourself the option of 'giving up'."

Ron was silent for a moment, then nodded:

"I understand."

The old man nodded in satisfaction and continued turning the page:
The old man turned a few more pages:
Fifth, regarding psychological preparation.

"This is very important, even more important than physical preparation."

"The environment of the seventh layer of the abyss will put continuous stress on your mind."

"You may experience hallucinations, doubt your own judgment, or lose accurate perception of time and space."

"These are all normal reactions to mental pollution."

The old man emphasized:
"The key is to be aware of these reactions and prepare countermeasures in advance."

"Some people use meditation to stay awake, some use pain to stimulate their nerves, and some use specific memories as 'anchors' to prevent themselves from getting lost."

"My personal advice is to bring one item that is very important to you."

"It could be a gift from someone, or something that carries important memories; in short, it's an item that reminds you of 'who you are'."

"When you are lost in the chaos, seeing or touching that item may help you find yourself."

Ron glanced subconsciously at the Cool Ring on his right ring finger.

The old man noticed this movement and nodded slightly.
"It seems you already have one."

He continued turning the page:
"Sixth, regarding survival skills..."

The old man flipped through the pages one by one, each page recording a wealth of details and experience.

These achievements were made possible by the lives of countless explorers.

Ron took notes diligently.

The old man has been talking for almost an hour.

"...in the very end."

He looked at Ron:

"believe in yourself."

"Those who can reach the third level have already proven their strength."

"Don't give up, don't compromise, stick to your beliefs and bottom line."

"As long as you keep going, there is still hope."

At this point, he finally closed the thick booklet.

"Sorry, I've said too much."

The old man smiled somewhat embarrassedly:
"This is my old problem; once I start talking about this, I can't stop."

"No, I'm very grateful that you were willing to tell me so much."

Ron said sincerely:
“This information is very important to me.”

The old man looked at Ron, a look of satisfaction in his eyes:

“You are the first applicant in recent years who has been able to listen to me patiently for so long.”

"Most people get impatient after listening for a few minutes."

"They think they're so great that they don't need to listen to an old man's nagging."

He shook his head:

"But truly wise people respect experience and cherish every piece of information that could potentially save their lives."

The old man walked back to the table and picked up the blank application form:

"Alright, I've said everything I needed to say."

"If you still insist on applying, then fill out this form."

"Remember, once you submit, you can't take it back."

"Unless you want to be recorded as a 'deserter,' you can forget about ever applying for any rating again in your life."

Ron took the form and began to fill it out carefully.

Name, age, position, expertise, and fighting style.
Each item needs to be carefully considered.

Based on the old man's earlier hint, his description of his expertise was accurate but not overly detailed:

"Skilled in the application of chaos theory, the modulation of biological bloodlines, and the creation of alchemical constructs; combat style leans towards control and support."

This description covers his main abilities, but doesn't reveal specific details or his truly formidable trump cards.

As for his reason for applying, he wrote down the sentence he had already prepared:

"To go further and see more."

After filling it out, Ron handed the form to the old man.

The old man examined it carefully, then nodded:
"Yes, that's a very professional description."

He took a deep red seal from the drawer and solemnly stamped it on the application form:
"All right."

"Your application has been officially submitted."

"Once we have ten people, the School Alliance will notify you of the specific time and location of the assessment."

The old man put the application form into the black file box, then took a badge from the drawer and handed it to Ron:

"This is the applicant's proof."

"While you are waiting, you can use this badge to access the observatory's training facilities and databases free of charge."

"The School Alliance hopes that every applicant is well prepared."

Ron took the badge.

The badge is simple, just a blank circle without any decoration.

"Once you pass the test, a golden gem will be embedded in this ring."

The old man explained:
"At that time, you will be a true Golden Ring explorer."

Ron said solemnly:
"Thank you, Mr. Gray. What you told me today might save my life."

"no need to thank me."

The old man waved his hand:
"If you really pass the test, just tell me about your experience when you come back."

"Even though I'm old, I still enjoy listening to these stories."

Now, he has many other things to do.

The Potions Professor's advancement, Eve and Lilia's promotion ceremonies, the Stoves Star's plans, and preparations for the assessment.
Time is of the essence; we must hurry.

Ron quickened his pace and headed towards his laboratory.

………………

The independent laboratory on the top floor of the observatory is shrouded in a quiet, dark blue halo.

Ron sat cross-legged on the meditation platform, his hands hanging naturally at his sides.

Breathing became extremely slow and long, as if the whole person had merged with the surrounding space.

Consciousness sinks into the deep ocean of the mind, where the surface is calm, with only occasional ripples of thought.

Today's meditation, however, could not reach the depth of my usual practice.

Scenes from the conference hall kept flashing through my mind:

Nitil's burning eyes, Salamander's mountain-like figure, Vinard's cold, mechanical projection.
And then there are those hostile or observing gazes.

"Game of Thrones"

Ron sighed inwardly.

His fingers unconsciously rubbed the ring on his right ring finger.

The metal has a cool, slightly rough feel.

That's the Cool Ring.

Professor Utter gave him the item as a "souvenir of his youthful failures" during their final farewell.

however.

Just as he was about to re-enter a meditative state, a strange burning sensation suddenly came from the [Cooling Ring] on his right ring finger.

This burning sensation does not come from an increase in physical temperature, but rather from some deeper, more direct stimulation that acts on the soul.

Like a warm current suddenly surging beneath a frozen lake in winter, or like spring thunder exploding deep within the frozen earth.

Ron suddenly opened his eyes and stared down at the ring.

The metal surface remains as plain and unadorned as ever.

It has a dull silver-gray color and fine scratches on the surface from long-term use.

However, in his mental perception, the ring was currently emitting an unprecedentedly active fluctuation.

"wrong."

He immediately activated [Spirit Realm Perception].

The perspective shifts to a deeper dimension.

The colors of the material world fade away, replaced by abstract images composed of energy and information.

Then, he saw it.

Inside the Cool Ring, there is an incredibly precise miniature spatial beacon!
Countless runes intertwined like a spider web, each line shimmering with a silvery-white light.

These runes form a three-dimensional geometric structure, nested layer upon layer, extending inward like a Russian nesting doll.

At its core, a pulsating point of light is slowly awakening.

"This is."

Ron's breath hitched for a moment.

He recognized the style of this runic system—Professor Uther's signature engravings.

The way it skillfully integrates spatiotemporal structures is something no one else at the entire observatory can imitate.

"Professor, what exactly did you leave behind?"

Ron was a little confused.

Just as I was thinking this, the light spot inside the ring suddenly brightened!

A beam of silver light shot out from the ring, outlining a human figure in the open space in the center of the laboratory.

The light gradually solidified, transforming into a familiar ethereal figure.

Professor Utter.

The silver glow of the undead was dimmer than Ron remembered, almost transparent.

But that kind face and those wise eyes are still as clear as they were yesterday.

This is some kind of pre-recorded mental imprint.

The old professor's image stood there, glanced at Ron, and went straight to the point:
“Ron, if you’ve seen this video, it means you’ve returned to the observatory and are meditating in your private laboratory.”

"The trigger condition I set is the superposition of these two points."

"I won't waste any more words. The old man's spiritual imprint won't last long."

The sound of the video has a special quality.

It's as if it's coming through a thick veil of history, but the tone remains the same simple and direct style I remember:

"First of all, you should know that while I was still alive, I saw some things about what would happen after I died through divination."

The old professor hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but glancing at his watch, he quickly returned to the main topic:

"The closer you get to your own destiny, the more blurred your understanding of divination becomes."

But I did manage to capture some key moments.

“I saw Nytil’s ambition, and I saw that she would make a move against you after I die.”

“I also foresee that at some point you will face the power struggle within the observatory alone.”

"Therefore, I made some arrangements in advance."

The image waves, and several points of light appear in the air, connecting with each other to form a network:
"I transferred the ultimate control of the submersible to you long ago, which was a choice I made after careful consideration."

"As long as you control the core facilities of the observation station, anyone who wants to take action against you will have to think twice about the consequences."

"This is the first line of defense I can prepare for you."

Ron listened quietly, a mix of warmth and bittersweet emotions welling up inside him.

The old professor continued:
"The second thing is about Cassandra."

“My divination showed that she would suffer heavy losses on the front lines in Vital and fall into some kind of predicament.”

“I can’t see the specific details, but I know she won’t die. The vitality of a top-tier archmage is stronger than you can imagine.”

The ethereal image's tone turned serious:
"If she is really missing or trapped, do not rush to rescue her."

"Cassandra is on a path of conquest, and she must face this ordeal herself."

Help from outsiders might actually become an obstacle on her path to advancement.

"What you need to do is protect Eve. That child is what's truly important."

"She inherited Cassandra's bloodline completely, even better, but without her mother's obsessive madness."

If she is properly nurtured, her future achievements will at least be no less than her mother's.

Ron nodded; this certainly reflected the old professor's wisdom.

The ethereal image continued:
"The third thing, and this is the real legacy I want to pass on to you."

The old professor's expression became serious:

"My illusory remains will be passed on to Eve."

But within this part of the ethereal body, I sealed away the complete coordinates and control over my colony.

"Only when Eve advances to the Moon Rank and the illusory remains can be read by her will this information be unlocked."

"At that time, she will be able to inherit everything I left behind, including the business I have built up over hundreds of years in another world."

Ron's pupils contracted slightly.

This is the old professor's true foresight.

The information about the colonies was sealed within the void, ensuring that only the truly successful successors could access it.

This not only prevented others from coveting the inheritance, but also gave Eve a huge impetus for growth.

"As for you"

The illusory image looked at Ron, a relieved smile in its eyes:

"Just as I promised you shortly after you arrived at the observatory, you will receive another gift."

Those were the belongings of my old friend, 'Elder' Kalix.

“Back then, Kalix reclaimed this fragment from the ‘Blood King’ Aiden, but for some reason he was unable to dispose of it himself.”

"He entrusted it to me before he died. And now, I am passing it on to you."

The old professor's tone became meaningful:

I've mentioned some things to you before, but not in enough detail.

Within this remnant structure lies the complete coordinates of a Type IV plane—'The World of Chaotic Blood'.

"The situation in that world is very special, chaotic, and dangerous."

"But for you, chaos is precisely the greatest opportunity."

The images seem to be organizing what follows:
"One last thing, I want to tell you some secrets about a deeper level."

Your power comes from your understanding of the nature of the world.

Your growth depends on constantly breaking down existing cognitive frameworks.

"This is both the biggest advantage and the biggest risk."

"Because the closer you get to the truth, the more likely you are to attract the attention of certain entities that do not want the truth to be revealed."

Ron's heart tightened.

This statement seems like some kind of prophecy.

The old professor's expression turned serious:

"Therefore, it's always better to know about some things in advance than to be caught off guard."

He waved his hand, and two abstract symbols appeared in the air:

One is a chaotic vortex that is constantly changing shape, and the other is a regular and orderly array of characters.

"The King of Absurdity and the King of Records; you should have seen the latter name in the classics as well."

Yutel's tone became serious:

"These two individuals represent two completely different ideologies."

Saint Hector, the king of absurdity, pursues 'change,' 'possibility,' and 'breaking the status quo.'

He believed that rigid order was the grave of civilization;

Only continuous change and challenges can keep the world dynamic.

"Therefore He likes to create paradoxes;
They like to solve problems in absurd ways;

I enjoy seeing those who think they have everything get a harsh reality check.

The illusory image points to another symbol:
"San Salcardo, the King of Records, pursues 'eternity,' 'truth,' and 'immutability.'"

"He believed that the truth of history must be preserved in its entirety, the transmission of knowledge must not be distorted, and everything that has ever existed should be recorded truthfully."

"Therefore, He hates lies, hates the falsification of history, and hates even more those who try to pollute the knowledge system with false information."

"These two ideas seem to be completely contradictory."

"One wants to break the order, the other wants to uphold eternity."

"One believes that 'change' is the truth, while the other firmly believes that 'recording' is the meaning."

"So they often argued, and sometimes even fought."

"The outside world all thought that they were mortal enemies."

The video paused for a long time, and the tone suddenly became meaningful:
“But Ron, you need to understand one thing.”

“True mortal enemies will not maintain this ‘competitive’ relationship over millions of years.”

“If they were truly irreconcilable enemies, one of them would have been completely eliminated long ago.”

"But the fact is, they are all still alive and well, and..."

The old professor gave a meaningful smile:
"Their struggle, in a way, is mutually beneficial."

"The 'transformation' of the King of Absurdity provided the King of Recording with a constant stream of new things to record."

"The 'eternity' of the King of Records provides a stable foundation for the King of Absurdity to carry out change."

"Without documentation, the transformation loses its meaning—because nobody knows what changed."

“Without change, records lose their value—because they are just repeating the same content forever.”

The voice of the ethereal image softened:
"They are more like two old friends with completely opposite personalities."

"On the surface, they don't like each other, but in reality, they tacitly maintain a certain balance."

"This relationship is subtle and complex."

The old professor looked at Ron and said solemnly:
"I'm telling you this because you've already attracted the attention of the King of Absurdity."

"Hmm, He always likes to test young people in a playful way. Perhaps you've already experienced this method."

"But at the same time, you also need to know..."

The ethereal image's expression turned serious:
"If you ever come into contact with the King of Records, do not regard him as an enemy just because of his struggle with the King of Absurdity."

"In fact, the King of Records is very generous to scholars who truly pursue knowledge."

But He is also like a stern father, showing no leniency towards behavior that violates principles.

The old professor's eyes deepened:

"I was able to advance to the rank of Grand Wizard and establish my own colony, which was actually thanks to the help of the King of Records."

"Back then, I encountered enormous difficulties when I was looking for suitable sites for colonies."

"I need a world with a rich history, abundant cultural relics, and suitable for historical research."

"But such a world is often already occupied by other great wizards."

"Just when I was about to give up, the King of Records showed me a coordinate in some way."

"It is the ruins of an ancient civilization that is about to be forgotten, located in a remote Type III plane."

"There are no abundant resources, no powerful indigenous forces, only countless historical documents waiting to be deciphered."

Nostalgia appeared in the old professor's eyes:
"It's worthless to other wizards."

"But for me, a historian, it is the most perfect treasure trove."

“I established my own colony there and spent hundreds of years organizing, researching and protecting those precious historical heritages.”

"In return, I have recorded all my research findings truthfully and have never altered any historical truth."

The ethereal image looked at Ron:

"The King of Records' help was not without reward."

"He only supports scholars who truly respect history and pursue the truth."

"If you can demonstrate the qualities He admires: respect for history, rigor in knowledge, and dedication to the truth..."

"He will provide the most generous support."

"but."

The old professor's tone suddenly became very warning:

"The King of Records' sternness is also very real."

"If your actions cross His bottom line, such as falsifying history, erasing the truth, or polluting knowledge with lies..."

"His quill will not hesitate to erase you from the 'record'."

"That kind of erasure is more thorough than the macroscopic elimination by the 'anomaly catcher'."

"The Anomaly Catcher simply makes you 'non-existent,' but the quill pen, the king of records, makes you 'never existed.'"

"All traces of you, all your influence, even other people's memories of you—will be rewritten."

"It's like your name has never been written in this book about time."

Ron felt a chill run down his spine.

This method of annihilation is indeed more terrifying than any known means.

The image looked at him, and its voice softened:

"However, as long as you stay true to yourself and pursue the truth, this kind of thing will not happen."

“I know your personality very well; you’re not the kind of person who lies easily.”

"and"

A deeper meaning appeared in the old professor's eyes:

"With your talent and character, you may even gain the recognition of the King of Records in the future."

"By then, you will discover that the King of Absurdity and the King of Record are two seemingly opposing entities."

"In fact, they are all protecting the inheritance of wizarding civilization in their own ways."

"One is responsible for creating new possibilities, and the other is responsible for preserving the authentic past."

"Civilization cannot develop healthily without either one."

The light in the image began to dim, clearly indicating that the recording time was nearing its limit.
"Alright, I've said everything I needed to say."

The old professor gave Ron one last look, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

“Ron, I’ve seen too many bright kids in my life, but you’re the only one I’m truly willing to teach without reservation.”

"It's not because you have the most talent, but because you have a rare 'sincere heart'."

"A genuine heart for knowledge, a genuine heart for friends, a genuine heart for the world..."

"Keep this sincerity in mind and walk your own path."

"Remember, the future belongs to you, not to me, and not to anyone else."

"Don't live up to other people's expectations; live the life you want to live."

As the last sentence fell, the image vanished completely.

The laboratory fell silent once more.

Ron sat there quietly, staring at the spot where the image had disappeared.

After a long while, he took a deep breath and, in his heart, performed the most standard and solemn wizard's salute to the deceased old man.

"Thank you, Professor."

"I will walk this path well."

As soon as he finished speaking, the Cool Ring emitted a faint light once again.

This time, it was the spatial beacon that was activated.

The miniature space inside the ring slowly extends outward, like a flower blooming.

A small rift in the void tore open in front of Ron.

Inside the crack, a piece of blood-red crystal lay quietly.

The crystal was about the size of a fist, irregularly shaped, and its surface was covered with vein-like patterns.

The strangest thing is that when Ron stared at it, he seemed to see a complete starry sky sealed inside the crystal.

Countless stars twinkle, rotate, vanish, and are reborn within it, endlessly repeating the cycle.

This is [Selna's illusory remains].

Ron took a deep breath and reached out to grasp the crystal.

The moment he got his hands on it, a vast, ancient, and chaotic flow of life information surged into his mind like a flood bursting its banks!
His consciousness was forcibly pulled into a brief illusionary space.

The surrounding scenery began to distort and recombine.

The laboratory walls melted into flowing colors, and the ceiling transformed into an inverted galaxy.

The concepts of time and space become blurred at this moment.

Ron finds himself standing in an unfamiliar laboratory.

The layout here is extremely elaborate, yet it exudes a strange sense of incongruity:

The walls, made of white stone, are stained with countless dried bloodstains, spreading like an abstract painting.

The long table was set with sophisticated alchemical instruments, but strange biological tissues floated in the glass containers of many of them.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, mixed with the pungent smell of some kind of chemical agent.

A figure was standing in front of the lab table with his back to him.

It was a being whose body was severely distorted.

Her long, blood-red hair still hung down, but it had lost its luster and was as messy as withered grass.

Even more terrifying, those "hair" seemed to be alive, slowly wriggling.

Ron could see that the figure's back was no longer in a normal human form.

A row of irregular protrusions bulges along the spine, resembling the exoskeleton of some insect.

Several slender tentacles grew from the scapula, with sharp bone spurs branching out from their ends.

"Failed again."

A hoarse, hollow voice came through, filled with deep weariness and madness:

"Why...why is it always just a little short?"

"If only there were one more, if only we could find that crucial connection point again."

The figure slowly turned around.

Ron saw Selna's face.

But this was no longer the idealistic and gentle young woman he had met when he was treating Eve.

In her later years, Selna's face was covered with irregular scales;

The left eye transformed into a vertical pupil resembling that of a reptile, while the right eye completely lost its pupil, leaving only a pure white area.

His mouth was torn from the corner to his ear, revealing three rows of sharp teeth.

On the neck, you can also see a half-closed third eye, which is trembling slightly.

Her hands no longer resembled those of a human.

The ten fingers transformed into arthropod-like tentacles, and the fingertips differentiated into various tools:

Some are sharp scalpels, some are tubular structures like syringes, and others are glands that can secrete special fluids.

"Who are you?"

Selna's vertical pupils stared at Ron, her voice filled with wariness and madness:
"Are you here to laugh at me again? To mock this monster?"

"Or are you just a figment of my imagination?"

"No, no, I haven't had hallucinations in a long time."

Since I had the emotional area of ​​my brain removed, I've never had those useless hallucinations again.

She muttered to herself, her tentacle-like fingers gesturing in the air, as if she were conducting some kind of deduction.

Ron took a deep breath:

“Great Wizard Selna, I am not here to mock you.”

“I have seen a projection of your past when you were young, when you were treating a patient with a blood conflict.”

"Back then, you told me to 'listen' to the voice of the materials and to understand their needs."

"That guidance was a great help to me."

Upon hearing these words, Selna's body suddenly stiffened.

Her vertical pupils stared intently at Ron for a full ten seconds.

Then, her third eye snapped open, shooting out a crimson beam that scanned Ron's soul.

"You do indeed bear the mark of my approval."

Selna's voice became melancholy:
"Would I have actually taught knowledge to strangers back then?"

Will we still believe in 'ideals' and 'goodwill'?

"How ridiculous."

She suddenly let out a shrill laugh.

After the laughter stopped, Selna looked at Ron, the madness in her eyes slightly subsided:

"My pursuit of 'perfection' ultimately turned me into a monster."

"My ideals, my goodwill, have all become a joke."

"It's ridiculous."

Her tentacles pointed to the failed samples on the experimental table:

Even so, I still can't stop.

"Because if we stop, all that pain and sacrifice will lose its meaning."

"I can only keep walking until the end of this road."

Even if the end is an abyss.

She looked at Ron and said finally:
“Little guy, you’ve gained the approval of ‘that idiot,’ which means you’ve stayed true to your original intentions.”

"I have a piece of advice for you..."

"Never lose your principles in pursuit of your goals."

"Once you start compromising, once you start convincing yourself it's for a greater good."

"You will end up like me, walking step by step into the abyss."

"Within my illusory remains, the coordinates of the experimental world I created back then—'The World of Chaotic Blood'—are sealed."

"If you become powerful enough in the future, go there and see for yourself; perhaps you'll find what you're looking for..."

As soon as she finished speaking, Selna's projection completely disappeared.

Ron's consciousness returned to reality.

He was still sitting in the laboratory, holding the blood-red crystal in his hand.

"Pursuing ideals, but losing one's moral compass."

"Ultimately becoming the very thing you hate most."

Ron sighed softly, etching this warning deep into his heart.

He closed his eyes, letting his consciousness sink once again into the depths of the illusory remains.

This time, he saw a complete and stable spatial coordinate system.

The coordinates, like a lighthouse, flickered with a crimson light in the endless void.

Ron extended along the coordinates, his consciousness traversing layers of dimensional barriers.

Finally, he "saw" that world.

　Update at midnight again today, 10,000 words.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)