Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Nari kept rambling on and on:

"Mom has been keeping an eye on my child's students; they're really amazing!"

"Especially that boy named Herman, and that girl named Liz, they've both become official wizards now!"

"and……"

Her voice suddenly turned somewhat displeased:

"A group of old guys are bullying my precious students, and Mom is so angry!"

"what?"

Ron frowned:
"Mom, could you please explain in detail?"

Nari immediately told her child everything that had happened over the past three years.

Although she was on the fifth level of the abyss, she could still receive messages from the main world intermittently through certain special "eyes and ears".

She paid particular attention to news about Ron.

After listening to Nari's story, Ron fell into deep thought.

"The paper on Narrative Potions has generated such a huge response...?"

He murmured:

"The old fogies use the concept of 'historical depth' to attack my theory, which is a very cunning angle."

"But they don't know..."

A cold smile curled at the corner of Ron's lips:
“True narrative is never about the length of history, but rather about the purity of the story.”

“A clear, pure, and unadulterated story is far more valuable than a chaotic, lengthy, and contradictory history.”

He recalled the predicament he had encountered during the magic compression.

Isn't that "conceptual wall" precisely because it lacks a "pure anchor point"?

If he uses those impure "traditional materials" as anchor points, it will only make the whole structure more chaotic and harder to control!

"Maybe……"

Ron seemed to realize something:
“What my students are doing happens to inspire me.”

"They are proving the value of 'purity'."

"Then I should also seek that 'purest' anchor point in my own cultivation..."

He closed his eyes again, his consciousness sinking into his heart.

This time, he was no longer in a hurry to compress the magic.

Instead, he began to "listen":
Listen to the deepest "essence" of those three magical forces; listen to their most primal "story"; listen to their purest "frequency"...

Perhaps the answer lies within.

At this moment, in the central region, a new paper is causing a great stir in academic circles.

"On the Irreversible Risks of New Formulas to the 'Mental State' of Wizards: A Perspective from the Theory of the Decay of 'Historical Imprint'"

Author's name: Joint Research Group of Ancient Prescriptions Association.

The paper is 120 pages long and is filled with a large amount of experimental data, theoretical derivations, and an in-depth explanation of the concept of "historical density".

Its core argument is only one:
Ron Ralph's "narrative potionology" theory, while technically impeccable and cost-effective, overlooks a fatal flaw: "psychological support."

The paper points out:

The reason why traditional high-priced materials are expensive is not because they are rare, nor because they are monopolized.

The real reason is that these materials have accumulated a massive amount of "environmental imprints" over long geological periods.

A piece of mineral from the deep sea, it bears witness to the birth and evolution of the ocean;
A piece of bark from an ancient tree records the rise and fall of the forest;
These "testimonies" will leave countless subtle "historical marks" in the materials.

When wizards consume potions containing these ingredients over a long period, these "historical marks" will gradually seep into the wizard's soul, making it more "substantial" and more "stable."

Just like a house, if the foundation is made of ancient stones, it can withstand the test of wind and rain.

However, if the foundation is newly poured cement, although it may look flat and smooth, it lacks sufficient "toughness".

Ron's replacement was precisely the latter.

They were so "clean" that they were as clean as a blank sheet of paper.

While wizards who take this potion can rapidly increase their magical power, their souls become increasingly "light and airy" due to a "lack of historical support."

Finally, at the crucial moment of promotion.

These wizards, due to "insufficient mental fortitude," are unable to withstand higher-density power, leading to their collapse, loss of control, or even death!
The conclusion of the paper was written in an almost compassionate tone:

“We understand young scholars’ pursuit of cost reduction, and we also understand the desire of ordinary potion makers for inexpensive formulas.”

"However, the path to truth is never a shortcut."

“The value of those seemingly ‘expensive’ traditional materials lies not in their price, but precisely in their ability to provide a ‘foundation’ for wizards.”

“Abandoning these foundations is tantamount to abandoning the possibility of reaching a higher level.”

"We urge all potion makers not to forget the importance of stability while pursuing 'efficiency'."

"Otherwise, you'll only realize this when you stand on the threshold of promotion..."

"My own soul is already riddled with holes."

This paper was like a bombshell, causing an uproar throughout the entire wizarding academic community!
The conservative old wizards all nodded in agreement.

They were already skeptical of Ron's "cheap theory," and now that they had "scientific evidence," they were even more convinced of their position.

The materials merchants were overjoyed; this was practically a tailor-made "advertising slogan" for them!
But the ordinary potion masters and young wizards were plunged into deep panic.

They had just seen a glimmer of hope—Ron's theory would allow them to obtain higher-quality potions at a lower cost.

But now, that hope has been dashed.

"Does this mean we really have to trade 'mental forte' for 'efficiency'?"

"Are we guys with no connections and not much money destined to be stuck at the bottom and never be able to advance?"

"But if it's really as the paper says, using a cheap formula will lead to failure in the promotion process..."

Countless people hesitated and were filled with fear, and the atmosphere in academia became heavy.

In the potion workshop where the elite group held their regular meetings, Herman slammed the paper onto the table, his face contorted with rage:
"What nonsense!"

"What 'historical depth'? What 'mental support'..."

"This is nothing but a lie fabricated by those old guys to protect their own interests!"

Liz sat to the side, her brow furrowed.
"But their papers are indeed supported by a large amount of experimental data..."

"Those data may not be fake."

"The data is accurate, but the conclusion is wrong!"

Hermann countered:
"They've confused 'correlation' with 'causation'!"

“Traditional materials do indeed contain a lot of ‘traces of time,’ that’s a fact.”

"But are these 'traces of time' really beneficial to wizards?"

The two looked at each other and saw the determination in each other's eyes.

"We need to write a rebuttal paper."

Liz stood up:
"Using our mentor's theories and our own experimental data, we will completely shatter the lies of those old guys!"

"Not only that……"

A glint of light flashed in Hermann's eyes:
"We also want to appeal to all potion makers who have used the mentor's recipes to contribute their data."

"Use facts and real cases to prove that a pure narrative is the true source of power!"

The two of them took action immediately.

They contacted the other members of the elite team, and all the ordinary potions masters who had benefited from Ron's theories...

A counterattack is about to begin.

Behind this academic storm lies the chaotic heart of the fifth layer of the abyss.

Ron was still meditating, thinking, searching for the answer that could break through the "wall of concepts"...

Unbeknownst to him, the storms outside were providing the most crucial "inspiration" for his breakthrough.

………………

In the ancestral home of the Crown Clan, Eve stood in the center of the "Hall of Slumber" at the deepest part of the palace, with more than a hundred crystal coffins neatly arranged before her.

Each coffin is sealed with the power of the Absurd King, and inside lie the core members of the Crown Clan, who have suffered spiritual corruption in various disasters but are so precious that they cannot be abandoned.

Among them were Eve's grandfather whom she had never met, uncles her mother had mentioned, and many ancestors whose names were only recorded in the family genealogy but had long been buried by time...

For nearly three years, Eve would come here every day in her spare time between cultivation, using her magical hands, woven with purple and black magic, to try to touch the souls of these slumbering beings.

The first few hundred attempts all ended in failure.

Those corrupted souls are like boiling quagmire; any consciousness that tries to approach them will be dragged into an abyss.

Eve once went too deep and was almost swallowed up by the "madness" of a certain predecessor, but the King of Absurdity intervened in time to pull her back.

But she never gave up.

As my mentor Ron once said, "The prerequisite for healing others is to first understand them."

So Eve began to re-examine these polluted souls from the perspective of "absurdism"—

They are insane precisely because they are too lucid;

They broke down precisely because they saw a truth they shouldn't have seen;

Their suffering stems from the unbridgeable gap between "cognition" and "reality"...

When Eve "resonated" with them in this way, a miracle happened.

Those originally violent souls began to respond to her approach.

It was no longer an attack, nor even a welcome; it was more like a... weary acquiescence.

It's as if it's saying, "If you really understand, then come in."

Just yesterday, Eve finally succeeded in opening the "closed door" of a sleeping person to herself.

It was a crystal coffin located in the far corner, with a sealing level far exceeding that of all the other coffins.

The surface of the coffin was covered with densely packed "binding runes," each of which was flashing incessantly, as if trying its best to suppress some terrifying existence inside.

As Eve approached the coffin, the piercing sound of the bells began to ring:
"The man lying in here is your great-grandfather's brother, named Diaz von Mange."

The King of Absurdity spoke with utmost seriousness:
"He is at the peak of the Dark Sun level, just half a step away from touching the 'Gate' of the Great Wizard."

Eve's pupils suddenly contracted. At the peak of the Dark Sun level, she was already considered to be among the top combat forces in this era.

"Why... do you want me to save him first?"

The black-haired princess's voice trembled slightly, reflecting both doubt about her own abilities and confusion about the deeper meaning behind this arrangement.

"Because he is the best person to protect you."

Hector's answer was frighteningly blunt:
"Cassandra has gone missing, Yutel is dead, and that kid Ron has gone into seclusion again..."

"Now, although I am secretly watching over you, on the surface you are the only 'living person' of the Crown Clan."

“Those who covet the family’s inheritance, those forces that harbor ill intentions toward the ‘successor’ of the King of Absurdity, they are all waiting for an opportunity.”

His bells rang out with a piercing sound:

"Therefore, you need a 'guard' who will deter all petty scoundrels from making any rash moves."

As for the Grand Wizards and those above that level, I'll handle that.

“And Diaz…” Hector looked at the crystal coffin:

"If I hadn't sealed it back then, his soul would have been completely corrupted and devoured long ago."

If you can get him out, he should be very obedient.

Thus, under the guidance of the King of Absurdity, Eve began the purification of Diaz.

"I'm ready."

The black-haired princess took a deep breath, and purple-black magic surged around her, like a magnificent robe woven from pure energy.

She stretched out her hands and placed them on the huge crystal coffin.

A terrifying shock suddenly erupted from the coffin!
That was the spiritual sea of ​​a Dark Sun-level wizard, which, even when sealed, still maintained an astonishing "density" and "intensity"!
Eve felt her consciousness being dragged violently into the abyss by an invisible giant hand, and the surrounding scenery changed instantly...

She found herself standing in a boundless wasteland.

The sky was a distorted purple, the earth a cracked black, and in the distance, countless enormous, indescribable shadows could be vaguely seen slowly writhing.

In front of her, a tall figure stood quietly with his back to her.

"Here comes another one."

The figure slowly turned around, revealing Diaz's resolute yet cracked face.

His eyes were two pure, chaotic vortexes, with no pupils visible, only endless distortion and madness.

Diaz's voice seemed to come from the depths of hell:
"You think you can cure me?"

"You think you can save me from this hell?"

He suddenly burst into laughter, a laugh filled with mockery and despair:
"Foolish! Utterly foolish!"

"What I see is completely incomprehensible to you!"

"The secrets I know are enough to shatter your soul on the spot!"

"I……"

His figure began to swell and twist, transforming into a monster built from countless contradictions:

"Heal me? You'll only become assimilated by me!"

A terrifying mental shock surged forth like a tidal wave!

Eve felt her consciousness violently trembling, her vision blurring, and countless voices screaming, whispering, and laughing simultaneously filling her ears...

But just as she was about to be swallowed up, the voice of her mentor, Ron, suddenly rang in her mind:
“Remember, Eve.”

“Absurdity is by no means a synonym for chaos.”

"It is a higher-dimensional 'clarity'—the courage to continue moving forward even after you have seen the true nature of the world."

Eve's eyes cleared again, allowing her consciousness to "merge" into it, to understand through "resonance," and to feel through "listening."

The purplish-black magic, like the gentlest silk thread, coiled around Diaz's shattered soul.

Instead of repairing the cracks, it accepted their existence and then wove a new, stronger structure upon them.

Just like the "Kintsugi" technique, which uses gold to repair broken ceramics, making the cracks themselves part of the artwork.

The wasteland began to crumble, and the chaotic sky began to clear.

When everything had faded away, Eve found herself standing before the crystal coffin once more.

The coffin lid slowly opened, and an elderly man with gray hair slowly sat up.

He exuded an aura so heavy it was almost solidified, a quality only an old wizard who had teetered on the brink of death countless times possessed.

“You are…” The old man looked at Eve, his previously clouded consciousness gradually clearing:

"The ancestor's consciousness just transmitted said your name is Little Eve? Cassandra's daughter?"

“Yes, Grandpa Diaz.” Eve bowed respectfully.

The old man remained silent for a long time, then gave a bitter smile:

"Looks like I've missed out on so much. Cassandra's kids are all grown up now..."

He struggled to his feet. Although he was weak from being asleep for a long time, he was still at the peak of the Dark Sun level and quickly recovered.

“Ancestor.” Diaz looked in a certain direction in the void:

“I know you are watching, and I will keep the promise I made to you.”

The laughter of the King of Absurdity echoed through the hall:
“Then protect this child well, old Diaz. She is one of my chosen ‘successors’.”

Only Eve and Diaz remained in the hall.

The old man looked at the young man before him:
"Child, thank you for saving me."

Although I don't know what the outside world has become, since our ancestor entrusted me with protecting you..."

He slowly bowed:
"Then from today onwards, I will be your sword and shield."

………………

Lilia was standing in the kitchen, busily preparing dinner.

On the cutting board, various ingredients are neatly chopped:
Fresh vegetables, carefully selected meats, and several "mild" magical plants that she specially purchased from the potion market.

They contain very little magic, yet they bring out a unique flavor.

On the stove, an iron pot was simmering a thick soup.

The broth is topped with tiny specks of oil, emitting an irresistible aroma.

"Ms. Luna would probably like it..."

Lilia stirred the soup while making plans in her mind.

After returning to the Emerald Forest, she separated from Mrs. Allen, only occasionally going back to visit the elderly.

After all, she had graduated as a formal wizard and professional potion master.

Mrs. Allen herself felt that it was inappropriate for Lilia to continue living with her.

On the other hand, Lilia also needs to take care of Elena, whom she "found".

At first, she thought the other person might just be an ordinary wizard who had suffered psychological trauma.

After all, while the central region is prosperous, it is also fraught with danger.

Some people were contaminated during exploration, and some encountered accidents during experiments...

However, as they spent more time together, she gradually realized that this "Luna" was far more than just "ordinary".

The profound wisdom that occasionally flashes in the other person's eyes, the insightful views spoken casually when sober, and the sense of vicissitude as if witnessing the rise and fall of countless eras...

All of this hints at a startling possibility:

This young woman, who looks no more than thirty, may actually be thousands of years old.

"but……"

Lilia shook her head, banishing those thoughts: "Whoever she is, she needs to be taken care of now."

She poured the stewed soup into a porcelain bowl, and then cut the golden-brown, crispy bread into small pieces and arranged them on a wooden plate.

Vegetable salad, pan-fried pork chops, fruit platters... one dish after another was served on the table.

The table was soon filled with food, all of which looked and smelled delicious.

"Ms. Luna, dinner is ready."

Lilia called softly.

The next second, the bedroom door was pushed open.

Elena Moonshine floated out like a ghost.

Her feet barely touched the ground, and a faint glow of emotion surrounded her body.

The light sometimes turned into a warm gold, sometimes into a cold blue, and sometimes into a chaotic gray... Each change corresponded to the fluctuations in her inner emotions.

"It smells so good..."

Elena's eyes lit up.

Those pupils, which were originally chaotic and confused, have now become as clear as a child's.

She practically pounced on the table, not caring about manners, and grabbed a piece of bread and stuffed it into her mouth.

Mmm! Delicious!

Indistinct sounds came from her mouth. Breadcrumbs were stuck to the corners of her mouth, soup dripped onto her clothes, and her hands were covered in grease...

This scene looks exactly like a starving child, completely lacking any semblance of the dignity of a "senior wizard".

Lilia watched this scene with a mixture of amusement and heartache.

She walked over gently and used a handkerchief to wipe the breadcrumbs from Elena's mouth.

"Eat slowly, no one will take it from you."

"Um...thank you..."

Elena looked up and thanked her softly.

Lilia sat down opposite her but didn't touch her chopsticks.

Her gaze fell on the unfinished paper manuscript on the corner of the table.

That was a rebuttal to "narrative potionology".

In response to the "historical depth theory" proposed by the "Ancient Formula Association," she, Herman, Liz, and others are preparing a detailed rebuttal.

The problem is that, although the opponent's argument is full of flaws, it cleverly exploits the "fear psychology".

They claimed that using cheap materials would lead to a "lack of moral character," ultimately causing a breakdown during promotions...

This claim cannot be directly disproven (because there are indeed cases of promotion failure), and it is also highly frightening (who would risk their future?).

"How should I refute this..."

Lilia frowned, her fingers unconsciously fiddling with the spoon in the bowl.

Just as she was lost in thought, a voice suddenly rang out:
"An impurity is an impurity."

Lilia looked up abruptly.

Elena was biting into a piece of steak, but her eyes were unusually clear.

"What did you say?"

“I said, an impurity is an impurity.”

Elena laid the pork chop down, her once cloudy eyes now as deep as an ancient well:
“They are ‘chaotic narratives,’ noise of the soul.”

Only a "pure essence" can bear the "grandest narrative" and truly be "resilient".

"The 'historical depth' that those old guys talk about is nothing more than an excuse for the 'accumulation of impurities'."

She reached out her hand, and a ball of emotional light gathered at her fingertips:
"look."

"If I were to mix countless different emotions into this ball of light—love, hate, joy, sorrow, fear, anger…"

"It will look very 'rich' and very 'substantial'."

As she spoke, the light began to change colors, like an overturned palette.

"But actually?"

Elena gently squeezed, and the ball of light immediately shattered, turning into countless fragments that scattered in all directions:

"It is so fragile that it is full of contradictions, conflicts, and irreconcilable 'noise'."

"in turn……"

She conjured another ball of light, this time only pure gold:
"If I retain only the purest 'joy,' eliminating all impurities..."

The golden light emanated a captivating warmth, stable and enduring.

"It looks 'simple,' yet it can withstand any impact."

"Because there are no contradictions or conflicts within it, only a harmonious 'resonance'."

Elena's voice became ethereal:

"Your mentor's theory has already touched upon this essence."

“The purity of narrative far outweighs the weight of history.”

"A clear, simple, and unadulterated story is far more powerful than a chaotic, contradictory, and noisy history."

"The 'mental support' that those old guys talk about is actually a side effect of 'narrative pollution'..."

After saying this, Elena's eyes began to glaze over again.

She picked up the steak again and continued to chew it heartily, as if the profound discourse she had just heard was nothing but an illusion.

However, Lilia was struck dumb!
She jumped to her feet, her eyes gleaming with excitement:
"I understand!"

"It's not true that 'heavy' equals 'tough'; quite the opposite—'impurities' weaken 'toughness'!"

"The mentor's pure formula eliminates all 'noise,' leaving only the 'essence of harmony'!"

"This is true 'mental support'!"

She immediately rushed to the table, picked up a pen, and began writing frantically.

All the problems that had previously troubled her were now easily solved!

The "Ancient Formula Association's" argument, while seemingly logically sound, actually makes a fatal mistake:
They confused “complexity” with “stability”.

Traditional materials are indeed "complex," containing countless "historical imprints."

However, these marks contradict and conflict with each other, which can create "internal friction" in the soul!
On the contrary, Ron's pure formula, though "simple," allows the soul to maintain its most harmonious state, free from internal friction and conflict, making it naturally more "resilient"!
Lilia's pen danced across the paper, stringing together arguments like pearls:
"Historical imprint ≠ Mental support"

Complexity ≠ Stability

"The accumulation of impurities can actually create conflict and weaken the resilience of the soul."

Only by achieving a "pure essence" can one attain "harmonious resonance" and strengthen the resilience of the soul.

"The mentor's theory is essentially about 'removing the dross and retaining the essence,' eliminating 'noise,' and preserving 'truth'..."

As the last punctuation mark fell, the sky was already beginning to lighten.

Lilia then realized that she had been writing at her desk all night!
She turned to look at the dining table, where Elena had already finished her dinner and was now fast asleep, slumped over the table.

Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on her disheveled hair, making the witch look like a tired child.

"Thank you, Ms. Luna."

Lilia said softly, her eyes filled with gratitude.

She tiptoed over and draped a blanket over Elena.

Then, she picked up the paper she had just finished and sent it to Herman and Liss via the communication crystal:

"I've found the breakthrough point, this is the key argument, see if you can refine it..."

………………

Three days later, in the seventh meeting room of the School Alliance.

A public debate is about to take place here—regarding the safety of the "narrative potionology" theory.

Due to pressure from Eve as the heir to the Crown Clan, the Court of Truth had no choice but to approve the application for this "public academic debate."

Inside the conference hall, hundreds of attendees gathered together.

There were potion masters, scholars, merchants, and a large number of ordinary wizards who were interested in this topic.

On one side were the representatives of the "Ancient Formula Association"—five white-haired old wizards, each with at least a century of academic experience.

On the other side were Ron's student representatives—Herman, Liss, and several other young potion masters who had also used the "pure formula."

The debate was chaired by the vice-minister of the Potions Department of the School Alliance, a senior scholar from the neutral faction.

"Everyone."

The deputy minister struck the small gavel in his hand:

"The debate is now officially beginning. First, the Ancient Formula Association, please state your core viewpoints."

An elderly man with a long, white beard stood up, his voice deep and resonant:
"Our view is simple—'historical imprint' is an integral part of potion ingredients."

"Although the young Associate Professor Ralph achieved material substitution in terms of technology, he overlooked the most crucial point: those cheap materials lacked sufficient 'time sedimentation' and 'historical depth'."

“Prolonged use of this material will cause a wizard’s soul to become ‘light’ and unable to bear higher-density power.”

"The ultimate result is collapse, loss of control, or even death during the promotion process!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a murmur arose in the conference hall.

Many people wore expressions of worry—this kind of "fear theory" is indeed very damaging.

"Now, please present your statement."

The deputy minister looked at Herman and the others.

Herman took a deep breath and stood up.

Instead of immediately refuting him, he deployed a data projection in the air:
"Ladies and gentlemen, please take a look at this statistic."

"This is tracking data for all potion makers who have used the 'pure formula' over the past two years."

Sample size: 1,237 people.

"Among them, the promotion success rate was 91.3%."

Promotion failure rate: 8.7%.

"And according to the historical data of the School Alliance, what is the success rate of wizards who use traditional formulas in their advancement?"

He paused, then emphasized, "87.5%!"

"Please note that wizards using the 'pure formula' actually have a higher success rate in their advancement!"

The moment this data was released, the entire audience erupted in uproar!

The old man from the Ancient Formulas Association's expression changed:
"This is impossible! There must be something wrong with your data!"

"has a problem?"

Liz stood up and said calmly:

"All of this data comes from the public records of the academic alliance, and anyone can access it."

"If you believe there is a problem, please provide evidence."

The old man was speechless. Of course he knew the data was true—and it was precisely because it was true that it was even more troublesome!

"But...but this is only short-term data!"

Another representative from the Ancient Formulas Association quickly added, "The problem of 'insufficient mental capacity' will take longer to manifest!"

"Perhaps in ten or twenty years, these people will suffer from soul damage!"

"Long-term impact?"

Herman sneered: "Then tell me, do you have any evidence to prove that 'historical imprints' can provide 'long-term protection'?"

"This...this is common sense!"

"common sense?"

Hermann's voice suddenly turned sharp:
"In the ignorant era before the 'ancestor' appeared, 'common sense' believed that the planet was flat."

In the early Second Age, 'common sense' held that the Abyss was unexplorable.

"Common sense often just means unchallenged prejudice!"

He waved, and the projection switched to another set of data:
"Let's see what exactly this 'historical imprint' you're talking about is."

According to the 'Environmental Imprint Database' provided by the mentor, a piece of ore from the deep sea contains:

2247 different elemental fluctuations, 891 contradictory energy frequencies, and at least 15 conflicting 'structures'.

"How can such contradictory information possibly 'enhance' the stability of the soul?"

"They only cause 'narrative pollution,' creating countless 'noise sources' in the soul!"

Liz picked up the conversation:

"Our mentor used a metaphor: the soul is like a building."

“Traditional materials are like old bricks picked up from ruins—they do have ‘history,’ but they are also full of cracks and impurities.”

"Houses built with these materials look 'solid' but are actually fragile."

"On the contrary, pure materials are like newly made stainless steel. Although they have no history, they are structurally perfect and flawless."

"Houses built with these materials may look 'simple,' but they are actually indestructible!"

"What you call 'mental support' is essentially using 'accumulated impurities' to cover up 'structural defects'!"

These words struck the Ancient Formula Association like a heavy hammer blow!
The old men's faces turned ashen.

They wanted to refute it, but found that they couldn't find any suitable arguments.

The other party used only objective data, while they only had "experience" and "common sense".

“Finally,” Hermann’s voice echoed in the conference hall:
"I would like to ask everyone here a question."

"When you take potions, do you want to 'absorb nutrients' or 'swallow garbage'?"

"Are those so-called 'historical imprints' in traditional materials 'nourishment' or 'garbage' for your souls?"

"If the answer is 'nutrients,' then please provide evidence to prove that they are beneficial."

"If the answer is 'garbage,' then why pay such a high price for this garbage?"

"Everyone, wake up."

"The weight of history always depends on the amount of impurities it contains."

"The resilience of the soul depends solely on the purity of its essence!"

The entire room fell silent; everyone was stunned by these words.

Yes.

If those "historical imprints" are truly beneficial, why has no one ever been able to prove it?

If those "marks" only represent impurities, then why should we pay for them?

The elders of the Ancient Formula Association looked at each other in bewilderment.

They finally realized that they had lost the debate, lost completely.

Three days later, the Ancient Formulas Association issued a statement:

"After careful evaluation, we have decided to withdraw the article 'From the theory of the decline of 'historical imprints'...'"

We acknowledge that some of the arguments presented in this paper require further verification…

Although the wording was euphemistic, it was tantamount to an open admission of defeat.

This news swept through the entire wizarding academic world like a hurricane!
Ron Ralph's "narrative potionology" has not only gained a firm foothold in theory, but has also been validated in practice!

His students used data and logic to defeat those veteran scholars with a century of experience!
This is not just an academic victory, but more like a declaration of a "generational shift":

Ron Ralph, a young associate professor who is just over thirty, is at the forefront of this transformation!

Countless wizards began to re-examine his theories, countless potion-makers began to experiment with his recipes, and countless students began to worship his name...

A massive "collective belief" began to brew, coalesce, and sublimate throughout the entire wizarding civilization!
………………

The fifth layer of the abyss, inside the heart of chaos.

Ron was still meditating.

He has been stuck in front of the "concept wall" for a whole month.

From 9.9 times to 10 times, this final 0.1 times is like an insurmountable chasm.

No matter how he "directed" or how the little lamb demonstrated, the three magical forces seemed to be locked by some invisible force, unable to move forward even a fraction of an inch.

"Where exactly is the difference?"

Ron wandered in the sea of ​​consciousness, trying again and again, failing time and time again.

Just when he was about to give up and prepare to temporarily withdraw from meditation to rest...

suddenly!

An indescribable "tide" surged from the void!

It was neither magic nor matter.

It's more like a "concept," a "will," or a kind of "recognition" from the collective subconscious of the entire civilization!
Ron saw countless golden beams suddenly surge into his mental sea!

Each beam of light carries the "belief" of a wizard:
"Associate Professor Ralph's theory saved me..."

"I can finally afford high-quality potions..."

"My students have successfully advanced because of the pure formula..."

"Narrative potion-making is the greatest breakthrough in potion-making of this era..."

Thousands of voices converged into a torrent, impacting Ron's soul!
This is a "favor" that is even more profound than simply teaching a small number of students!
When a wizard makes a significant contribution to a civilization, the collective consciousness of the entire civilization will respond!
This feedback transcends time and space, transcends distance, and directly affects the deepest part of the soul!

Now, Ron's "narrative potionology" theory has proven its value in practice.

It lowered the cost of potions, increased the success rate of advancement, and gave countless ordinary wizards hope...

The entire civilization cheered for him!
The entire civilization was rewarding him!

"This is... the 'external force' I've been searching for!"

At that moment, Ron finally understood!
Achieving a tenfold compression breakthrough requires neither simple skill nor simple strength.

What it needs is precisely an "anchor point," a "conceptual anchor" that can represent the connection between "I" and "the world"!
And "favor" represents this anchor point.

It represents that "my" achievements are recognized by the "world"!
It means that my existence is beneficial to civilization!
It means that "I" deserve to have greater power!

"bring it on!"

Ron roared in his mind sea, gathering all the incoming "blessings" into the "core of contradiction"!

The obsidian-like core began to tremble violently!
It transforms the recognition from the outside world, which is called "favor", into the purest "power of belief"!
Then, Ron "saw" it.

On the stage of the concert hall in the spiritual sea, the three "performers" who had been frozen in place suddenly raised their heads at the same time!
Starlight Harp, Flame Beast, Chaotic Smoke...

In their "eyes" (if you can call them that), the same image is reflected:
Countless wizards cheered, countless students expressed their gratitude, and countless lives benefited from "Narrative Potions"...

"Play it."

Ron raises his "baton":
"No longer playing for 'me'."

"It is for 'us,' for all lives that have benefited from this power!"

The three magical forces achieved a complete "resonance" at this moment.

That jarring "augmented fourth" interval has finally been resolved!

It transformed into the most harmonious perfect fifth, the most moving major triad, and a soul-stirring symphony!
Inside the heart of chaos, Ron's magic, like boiling magma, began its final "forging."

The power of the "core of contradiction" erupts in full force, like thousands of hammers falling simultaneously.

Each hammer blow increases the density of the magic by one point;
Each hammer blow brings the fusion of the three forces even closer!
[Magic Compression: 990% → 995% → 998% → 999%...]

The final tenth of a percent melted away like solid ice!
The moment the number jumps to "1000%":

"Boom--!"

A heartbeat that shook the abyss resounded from Ron's body!

It was neither the somber tone of "Projection of Stars," nor the rage of "Thunder and Fire Tyrant," nor merely the transformation of "Chaotic Ram's Head"...

This is a brand new "frequency" born from the fusion of the three!
[Magic Compression: 1000%]

[Congratulations! You have reached the minimum breakthrough standard for the Dark Sun level!]

Your magic has begun to transform into a "semi-material" form!

Your soul already possesses the foundation to bear the "empty shell"!

Ron slowly opened his eyes.

He could feel that the magic power within him was completely different from before.

If the magic of the past was like "water," then the magic of today is more like "mercury":
It still flows, but it is heavier now;
Still soft, yet more resilient;

It is still energy, but it is approaching the boundary of matter...

"Ten times compression."

Ron looked at his hands, feeling the power surging in his fingertips:
"I've finally... touched the threshold of the Dark Sun level." (End of Chapter)