Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

In the manor's study late at night, the crystal chandelier emitted a soft, dark golden light.

Ron sat at his desk, with an old-fashioned communication device in front of him.

It was a complex machine constructed from brass and blood crystal, its surface engraved with densely packed rune circuits.

This device is known in the wizarding world as the "Rune Pulse Messenger".

Unlike projection communication, this long-distance, cross-dimensional communication method is more like transmitting information with a faint light in the dark—inefficient, but the only feasible option.

Ron's fingers lightly touched the crystal surface, and magic began to flow along the pre-set circuit.

The core of the resonant crystal lit up, emitting a series of regular pulses.

This is the "rune rhythm language" developed by wizards.

By varying the length, intensity, and frequency of magical pulses, complex languages ​​can be transformed into signals that can be transmitted across dimensional barriers.

Before each wizard embarks on an interdimensional expedition, they learn this ancient coding system.

Just as sailors need to understand flag signals and explorers need to recognize landmarks, the rhythm of runes is a required course for all explorers of other worlds.

[Short-short-long, long-short-short, short-long-long]

The first sequence Ron entered represented "emergency communication, priority access".

Then there was the authentication code—a special combination of frequencies known only to him and Miller.

Three minutes later, the response came.

The resonant crystal suddenly trembled violently, and a series of complex light spots appeared on its surface.

【Long-long-short, short-short-short, long-short-long】——“Received, identity confirmed”.

[Short-long-short, long-long-short, short-short-long] — “Miller is here, awaiting instructions.”

Ron took a deep breath and began encoding the message he wanted to convey.

The distinctive feature of the Runic Rhythm Language lies in its extreme compression of language.

A complete sentence may require dozens of words, but through specific coding combinations, it can often be clearly expressed with just a dozen or so pulses.

His fingers moved swiftly across the crystal, magic flowing in rhythm with his thoughts.

(The following rune codes are all omitted.)
"Cedric, former genius researcher"

"To be delivered, please receive"

"Extremely dangerous, strictly controlled, and ideological education arranged."

He would pause briefly between each pulse to ensure stable signal transmission.

There are too many interfering factors in interdimensional communication—space turbulence, energy tides, and even the magnetic fields of some wandering creatures can all cause signal distortion.

Therefore, each important message needs to be sent three times.

The crystal light continued to shimmer in the darkness, like a lonely lighthouse in the night sky.

About five minutes later, Miller responded again.

"Understood, recorded."

This was followed by a longer sequence of pulses.

Ron listened intently, mentally converting the flickering lights into words.

"The Fang Clan has been making unusual moves recently."

Border troops are being redeployed.

"Small in scale, but frequent"

"Suspectedly testing you, to confirm your whereabouts."

Ron's brows frowned slightly.

As expected, the Ya clan was still eyeing them covetously.

The apparent "obeying parliamentary resolutions," "public apology," and "disbanding the army" were all just delaying tactics.

Casano, an ancient monster who has lived for four thousand years, never truly gives up his hatred.

His fingers continued to tap lightly on the crystal, typing in a new query.

How is the investigation into the internal mole progressing?

The waiting process is always long.

Ron leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on a document on the desk.

That was the latest "First Five-Year Plan Implementation Report" sent by Twilight City.

The densely packed data and charts record the changes in the city every day since he left.

Behind the cold, hard numbers lies the transformation of countless lives.

For the first time, ordinary people who had been struggling in the dark had the opportunity to change their situation.
The vampires, on the verge of madness, regained their dignity as rational beings.

It is also the process by which the entire Twilight City transformed from a chaotic and decaying outlying settlement into a vibrant and emerging metropolis...

"Om..."

The vibrations of the resonating crystal pulled him back to reality.

Miller's reply finally arrived.

"The mole has been identified; there are seven people in total."

"Three people are infiltrating the intelligence department, two are in logistics, and two are in the peripheral chambers of commerce."

"All surveillance footage was monitored, and no suspicious activity was detected."

"We await your command: when to close the net."

Ron wasn't surprised.

Seven traitors—that's not a large number, but it's not a small number either.

Although the Ya Clan acted cautiously, they underestimated the infiltration capabilities of the Twilight City intelligence network.

Although Euphemia repeatedly failed in political struggles, she still managed to make some impact over thirty years.

After being reintegrated by experienced individuals like Miller, it unleashed astonishing efficiency.

Most importantly, there is the existence of the Shadow Whistle.

That puppet, created from a marquis-level vampire, possesses terrifying stealth and reconnaissance abilities.

The spies sent by the Ya clan were completely unaware that their every move was being watched by a pair of eyes hidden in the shadows.

His fingers tapped on the crystal, inputting new instructions.

"We will not close the net for now; we will continue monitoring."

"Spread false information to confirm that I have left."

"They need to believe that I won't be able to return anytime soon."

"Lure the snake out of its hole and wait for them to launch an attack."

This was a scheme that Ron had planned long ago.

He needs a war.

It wasn't a true war of destruction where it was a matter of life and death; it was more like a meticulously planned "live-fire exercise."

The military strength of Twilight City looks strong on paper, but it has never been truly tested.

Those militiamen who had received systematic training, those guards equipped with runic weapons, those newly established defense systems...

How effective are they?
Faced with real marquis-level vampires, well-trained elite troops, and the possibility of a monster attack, can this city be defended?
Ron needs answers.

The Ya clan could provide just the right "sparring partner".

The crystal lit up again, and Miller's reply was marked by obvious hesitation.

"I understand your intention, but the risk is extremely high."

"If the entire Ya clan were to come out, Twilight City might not be able to withstand them."

Are you really sure?

Looking at this series of pulses, Ron could imagine Miller's expression at that moment.

His fingers landed on the crystal surface again, and he began to encode a longer message.

"The Grand Duke of the Ya Clan is bound by the alliance."

"Taking action personally is tantamount to breaching the contract."

"The great wizards will inevitably intervene in the surrounding colonies."

Therefore, at most two or three marquises will be dispatched.

"【Shadow Whistle】can block one person. You lead the team to deal with the rest. Hold on until I return."

"Furthermore, the militia for defending the city, along with elite mobile forces, are sufficient."

He paused, his fingers gently tracing the edge of the crystal.

The following information is the real core.

"What's more important is not military victory."

What's needed is political leverage.

"Grand Duchess Hilda has a request of me."

"If she simply expresses her support, the Ya clan will surely be defeated."

After the last pulse was emitted, Ron leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Hilda, the ancient Grand Duchess of the "Eye" clan, is an eternal neutral on the political stage of the chaotic world.

She lived for eight thousand years, witnessed the rise and fall of countless clans, and experienced countless power shifts, always maintaining a detached attitude.

It neither participates in the open or covert struggles of any faction, nor has it ever been absent from its voice at crucial moments.

Calling her a "fence-sitter" is too dismissive, while calling her a "wise person" is not accurate enough.

If Professor Utter were still here, he would say that Hilda was a genius gambler who "always stood on the winning side."

They never initiate conflict, yet they always manage to gain the greatest benefit at the lowest cost when the conflict is about to be decided.

Now, the "improved anti-madness potion" that Ron holds in his hands is precisely the bargaining chip that can sway this most senior Grand Duke.

It wasn't just a potion; it represented a possibility—the possibility of freeing the vampires from Aiden's madness.

Whoever masters this technology will occupy an unshakeable position in the future vampire society.

Hilda could certainly see that.

Therefore, she will assess the situation, observe, and wait for the most appropriate time to express her opinion.

The Ya Clan's attack on Twilight City was precisely at this "most opportune moment".

The resonating crystal vibrated again, and this time the response came exceptionally quickly.

"I see, I will fully cooperate."

I hope your judgment will remain accurate as always.

The last set of pulses carried a distinctly mocking tone, making Ron unable to help but laugh.

He was about to end the communication when his finger touched the crystal, but then he stopped.

There is one more issue that needs to be confirmed.

Is Euphemia's condition stable?

"Laboratory progress, any abnormalities?"

This time the wait time was significantly longer.

Ron could imagine Miller organizing his thoughts, trying to figure out how to answer this sensitive question.

About ten minutes later, the reply finally arrived.

Euphemia is in relatively good spirits.

"But I often work through the night, as if I'm running away from something."

"The experiment is progressing very quickly, abnormally quickly."

She's using work to numb herself.

Ron frowned.

Nari's "education" of Euphemia clearly left an indelible mark on her mind.

The experience of being utterly crushed from the depths of one's soul and then forcibly reshaped is not something any rational being can easily endure.

Euphemia's ability to continue working and even make progress in her research is itself a testament to her resilience.

But how long can this resilience last?
When a person chooses to use work to escape psychological trauma, it often means that the trauma itself is much deeper than it appears on the surface.

"Keep a close eye on her to prevent any extreme behavior."

"If necessary, restrict her experimental privileges."

"She still has value; we can't afford any accidents to happen to her."

After issuing the command, Ron felt somewhat tired.

Controlling the fate of others and making them move along a pre-designed trajectory is far from as easy as one might imagine.

As the crystal's light gradually dimmed, this interdimensional communication was finally coming to an end.

"All instructions received will be strictly followed."

"Take care, Associate Professor."

After the last set of pulses dissipated, the resonant crystal fell into complete silence.

Ron reached out and turned off the device. The light from the magic circuit went out one by one, until only the brass casing gleamed dimly in the candlelight.

He stood up and walked to the window.

The Ya Clan's army is gathering, traitors are passing on intelligence, and Twilight City's defenses are quietly taking shape...

Everyone is waiting for an opportunity to bring the undercurrents to the surface.

Ron let out a soft breath and turned to leave the study.

He has more important things to do tomorrow.

It's time to head to the fifth level of the Abyss and see Nari.

My mother has also made quite a few gains recently.

The energy from the "Lung of Chaos" on the Steril Star was continuously transmitted through the "Symbiotic Mark" left by Ron.

Nari is preparing to use this energy for some kind of "evolution" that even Ron couldn't fully predict...

………………

At the Abyss Observatory, Ron stood on the familiar platform.

This observatory has indeed become much quieter since Cassandra went missing and Professor Yutel passed away.

The once bustling hall is now only occupied by a few researchers busy at their respective workstations.

The exploration teams that were queuing to use the portal have now disappeared;

Even the "Abyss Exploration Achievement Ranking" that used to cover the walls has been quietly removed and replaced with a more academic "Research Project Announcement Board"...

Ron walked down the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the empty space.

He suddenly realized that perhaps this was what the Abyss Observatory should have looked like.

Cassandra's initial use of this place as a "military outpost" and "resource transfer station" was itself a form of "overexploitation."

That kind of prosperity was built on conquest and expansion; once the conquest ceased, the prosperity naturally vanished.

The current observatory has returned to its original purpose:

A transportation hub connecting the main world and the Abyss, a cutting-edge base for scholars to study Abyssal phenomena, and a support station providing logistical support for explorers...

With simple functions and clear responsibilities, it no longer carries unrealistic ambitions.

"Associate Professor Ralph."

A somewhat familiar voice came from the side.

Ron turned his head and saw an old wizard with gray hair sitting in the corner in front of a monitoring station, holding a cup of steaming medicinal tea in his hand.

Half of his face was petrified, and his lips barely moved when he spoke.

"Good evening, Manager Wayne."

Ron nodded politely.

I never expected that the supervisor who was with me when I first came to the observatory would still be here, although he seemed to have semi-retired.

The other party is also one of the few "resident researchers" at the observation station.

He specializes in studying abyssal tides and has been working here for over fifty years.

"Should we go down to the fifth floor?"

Wayne took a sip of tea: "The energy fluctuations over there have been somewhat unusual lately."

"Thank you for reminding."

Ron walked deeper into the observatory, where there was a heavy metal door.

The door was covered with warning symbols, each one a reminder to any intruder:
[Danger Zone Ahead]

[Unauthorized entry prohibited]

[Excessive Radiation in the Abyss]

[Limited to Moon-level and above wizards only]

He placed his palm on the identification device, magic was injected, and identity verification was successful.

The heavy metal door slowly opened, revealing a spiral staircase extending downwards.

The walls on both sides of the staircase are inlaid with faintly glowing abyssal crystals, providing the most basic lighting.

Ron stepped onto the stairs, and the metal door behind him closed with a dull "thud".

Approaching the submersible, he began his routine inspection:
Outer shell integrity – normal;
Rune circuit connectivity - normal;
Energy reserves – ample;
Spatial anchor point stability – normal;
Life support system – normal…

Everything was just as it was when the professor was still alive, and Ron was preparing to initiate the descent procedure.

at this time……

A sudden surge of magical energy emanated from the storage bag in his arms!

Ron was startled and quickly retrieved the source of the fluctuation.

It was an irregular fragment of ethereal remains, its surface gleaming with a faint silvery-gray sheen.

Professor Utter's illusory remains!

The fragments were trembling violently, as if the remaining consciousness within them had been awakened by something.

The next second, silver-gray light burst forth from the fragments!

The light gathered, twisted, and shaped in the air, eventually forming a semi-transparent humanoid silhouette.

It is a historical projection of Professor Utter.

"professor……"

Ron called out softly, almost instinctively.

The old professor's projection opened its eyes and stared at the submersible in the center of the room.

He slowly raised his hand, his illusory fingers lightly touching the air.

The submersible suddenly emitted a deep hum!

The runes that were originally dormant were automatically activated one after another;
The gears began to turn, making a rhythmic "click" sound;

A pale blue magical light surged within the energy circuit, like blood flowing through veins...

The submersible is responding to its owner.

Even though the master is dead, even though this is just a historical projection.

Yet that deep connection of souls still transcends the boundaries of life and death.

“I really miss it…”

Professor Utter's voice echoed in the empty room:
"This submersible is a work that took me most of my life to complete."

“Every component, every rune, every detail… all are imbued with my heart and soul.” He turned to look at Ron, a gentle smile appearing on the projected face:

"I never expected that it would still be so well maintained after my death."

"Director Wayne has been taking care of it."

Ron answered softly:

He said this is one of the observatory's most valuable legacies and must be passed down through generations.

“Wayne… he’s still alive.”

Professor Utter smiled:
"In the blink of an eye, he has been at the observatory for fifty years."

His smile faded, and his gaze returned to Ron.
"Child, how have you been lately?"

Ron was stunned.

"Not bad, Professor."

He briefly reported on his experiences over the past few years:
Establish Twilight City in a chaotic world, advance the "Daywalker Project," navigate the complex relationships with various factions, and more...

Eve and I are engaged.

Looking at the ring on his hand, Ron's voice softened.

Professor Utter's projection visibly jolted.

A look of genuine relief appeared on that blurred face:

“Eve, that child…you two have finally come together.”

"Congratulations, Ron. And please give my best wishes to Eve as well."

“I will pass on the message to her, Professor.”

"Ah."

Professor Utter nodded, but soon his expression turned serious again:

“However, Ron, I must remind you of something.”

"Eve's current situation is far more dangerous than you imagine."

"The void left by Cassandra..."

The old professor's voice became low:

“That’s not just a ‘seat’, it’s a huge piece of meat.”

"The resource quotas of the School Alliance, the priority for exploring other worlds, and the clan political legacy accumulated over thousands of years... each one is enough to make countless great wizards green with envy."

"Now, the only thing preventing them from dividing up these assets is Eve's status as a 'legal heir'."

Professor Utter's projection moved in front of Ron:

"But do you think those ancient monsters who have lived for hundreds or even thousands of years would genuinely respect a little girl?"

"They are polite on the surface, but they are secretly pressing us step by step."

"Using various reasons, they 'suggested' Eve relinquish some of her rights; they used various means to 'persuade' her to accept 'reasonable' compromises; and they used various pressures to force her to cede core interests under the guise of 'cooperation'..."

The old professor's voice grew increasingly cold:

“Once Eve starts to compromise, those people will only escalate their actions.”

"Today they'll ask her to give up 10% of her resource quota, tomorrow they'll demand 30%, and the day after tomorrow they'll just lay their cards on the table—either give up the entire quota, or..."

Ron was well aware of the pressure Eve was under.

"Then what should I do?"

he asked.

"Become stronger."

Professor Utter's answer was concise and powerful:
“Only when she is strong enough, strong enough that those old guys dare not make any rash moves, can Eve truly gain a foothold.”

"You are now at the Dark Sun level, which is already outstanding among the younger generation."

But in the eyes of those great wizards, he was still just a 'promising junior'.

"Only when you become a great wizard, possessing the power to truly intimidate others..."

"Only then will those undercurrents truly recede."

Ron took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

He is trying to become stronger... Of course he is trying to become stronger.

However, there is an insurmountable barrier between the Dark Sun level and the Grand Wizard level.

Countless geniuses are stuck at this juncture, unable to cross it even after a lifetime of effort.

Even at his pace, it will probably take at least forty years more...

But Eve, can you wait that long?

Seemingly sensing his worries, Professor Yutel suddenly smiled:
"However, you don't need to be too anxious."

“That child Eve is stronger than you think.”

"She will not be easily crushed, nor will she easily compromise."

"and……"

The old professor's projection suddenly became even more solid:

"I won't really stand idly by."

"Ron, I have a secret to tell you."

“A secret that might change the future.”

Ron's heart raced; he had a premonition that what he was about to say would be of great significance.

"As Cassandra's mentor..."

Professor Utter said slowly:
“Even if the disciple has lost contact, it is still possible to transcend the barriers of time and space and forcibly summon the other party’s ‘historical projection’.”

Ron's eyes widened.

To have Professor Yutel's projection summon Cassandra's projection again, even though it's a higher level?!

He hadn't expected this move.

"Of course, this kind of summoning has great limitations."

Professor Utter continued to explain:
"The summoned projection can only exist for a very short time, at most no more than a quarter of an hour."

"But even so..."

A sharp glint flashed in the old professor's eyes:
"A half-real, half-fake 'Cassandra' is still enough to intimidate the vast majority of petty villains."

"So, Ron..."

He looked intently at his former most prized student:
"If in the future, a critical moment truly arises where Cassandra has no choice but to appear..."

Call me.

"I will use my last bit of strength to fight for your survival."

Ron's throat tightened, a thousand words stuck in his chest, finally escaping into a hoarse whisper:

"Thank you, Professor."

"You're welcome."

Professor Utter smiled, a smile as warm as the spring sun:
"My old bones were never supposed to come back."

"Now, I'm just making the most of my remaining energy."

His projection began to become transparent.

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

"Go."

The old professor joked:

"Don't keep Nari waiting too long. You know that apostle's temper."

The projection after this sentence transformed into countless points of light and dissipated into the air.

Only the submersible continued to tremble slightly, as if mourning the departure of its master.

Ron stood there, motionless for a long time.

He looked down at the shredded remains in his hand.

The silver-gray fragment had dimmed considerably, clearly indicating that the activation process had consumed a significant amount of its energy.

But it was still warm.

He carefully collected the remains of the anatomical structure, then turned and walked towards the submersible.

"Boom..."

With a dull thud, the hatch opened, revealing the familiar, murky sea.

He has returned from the fifth level of the abyss, the "Sea of ​​No Light".

………………

The Central Land, the headquarters of the School Alliance.

This building, which symbolizes the visible core of power in wizarding civilization, looks so simple that it's almost shabby.

There are no fancy decorations or dazzling magical effects, only simple white stone and regular geometric lines.

True luxury lies in places unseen.

For example, right now, on the seventh basement level, in the secret meeting room numbered Δ3.

The existence of this room is a secret, known only to a few high-ranking members of a particular school of thought.

The room was small, about 20 square meters, with a round obsidian conference table occupying the center.

The table surface was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the seven figures sitting around it.

To be precise, there are seven projections.

Each projection has undergone "identity masking"—the face is blurred, the voice is distorted, and even the magical fluctuations are hidden by special runes.

This level of confidentiality means that what we are going to discuss today is definitely not a topic that can be made public.

"Everyone."

The figure seated in the due north position spoke first, their distorted voice sounding cold and mechanical:
"I've gathered you all here today because there's an 'old problem' that's reached the point where it must be addressed."

"The Crown Clan".

The moment those four words were uttered, the atmosphere in the entire conference room immediately became subtle.

"Cassandra St. Mange, missing for thirty years."

The figure in the due north direction continued:
"Thirty years is but a blink of an eye for a great wizard."

But she held the resource quotas—the mining rights to thirteen resource planets, the ancient books in the central library, and the exclusive access to the 'Chessboard World'…

"These things are now all in the hands of a Moon-level girl."

His tone turned sarcastic:

Don't you all think this is a huge waste of resources?

"Having said that..."

The figure sitting in the southeast corner spoke, their voice relatively gentle:
"But behind the Crown Clan is the Absurd King. As long as he is still alive, we cannot act rashly."

"The King of Absurdity?" Zheng Bei's figure sneered, "That one is too busy taking care of himself right now."

"I've heard that His Majesty the 'End of Death' is preparing to release prisoners in large numbers."

Although the King of Absurdity, along with several other Witch Kings, removed His Majesty 'Apocalypse' from the picture, thus ending the matter, the very collapse of 'Paradise' itself was enough to cause Him a great deal of trouble.

"The situation on the other side of the 'Chessboard World' is not optimistic either. Several of the civilizations that He has bet on are being targeted by His Majesty 'The End of Death', and He needs to personally spare some of his power to protect them."

He lowered his voice, as if he were talking about a taboo topic:
"The King of Absurdity has offended the 'End of Death,' and he has already done his best to keep the 'Ruling Witch King' from stepping down. How could he have so much energy to supervise his own clan?"

These words caused everyone present to fall into deep thought.

"I agree with the analysis from the north." The figure from the northwest nodded.

"Although the King of Absurdity is powerful, he is ultimately constrained by his status as the 'ruler'."

"He can indirectly help the Crown Clan, for example, by providing training for that little girl, or by deterring some overt provocateurs."

"But they cannot 'directly' interfere with our decision-making."

"Because that would violate the basic principle of 'governing neutrality'."

His tone became playful:

“If He disobeys, He will have to step down, and the power He can project into the main world will be even less.”

“So…” Zheng Bei looked around, “Now is the best time.”

"While Cassandra's whereabouts are unknown, the young girl's foundation is not yet stable, and the King of Absurdity is unable to spare any attention."

“We can and should re-evaluate the Crown Clan’s resource allocation.”

"How exactly do we do it?" the figure from the east asked.

"Step by step." The figure in the north was clearly prepared.
"The first step is to question Eve's 'eligibility for the seat'."

"According to the alliance charter, the succession of a parliamentary seat requires three conditions: bloodline inheritance, sufficient strength, and clan recommendation."

"The first two, she's barely satisfied now that she's broken through to the Moon-level, but the third..." His tone became meaningful:
"Clan election requires the consent of more than half of the Dark Sun-level wizards."

"Nine Dark Sun-level wizards are slumbering in the Crown Ancestral Land, and only three have been awakened so far."

"And as far as I know, the one who was recently awakened—Reginald St. Mange—has quite a few complaints about Eve's right to inherit the throne."

“If we can provide Reginald with some ‘appropriate’ help to enable him to launch a ‘succession challenge’ within the clan.”

"Then Eve's right to succession will be embroiled in internal disputes."

"And once a dispute arises..."

The figure in the north spoke in an even colder tone:
“We have ample reason to ‘temporarily freeze’ some of the Crown Clan’s rights pending ‘dispute resolution’.”

This plan immediately caught the attention of everyone present.

Wonderful.

This approach both dealt a blow to the Crown Clan and provided a legitimate reason for the attack; it achieved its objective without directly offending the Absurd King.

"And the second step?"

Someone pressed for details.

"The second step is to see Eve's reaction."

The shadow of the figure to the due north leaned slightly forward, like a hunter observing the struggle of its prey:

"If she chooses to compromise and voluntarily give up some resources, then everyone will be happy."

"If she chooses to resist..."

“Then we can put further pressure on her—for example, by asking her to ‘prove’ that she is capable of managing those resources.”

"how to prove?"

"It's very simple."

The figure in the north snapped his fingers:
"Let her accomplish some 'impossible tasks'."

"For example, she was required to stabilize a rebellious colony under Cassandra's control within a certain period of time."

For example, she was asked to take in prisoners who had escaped from "Paradise."

"For example..."

His tone became increasingly sinister:

"We demand that she find Cassandra's whereabouts and give the league an 'explanation'."

“Each of these tasks, taken individually, is a highly difficult challenge that even a Dark Sun-class would find hard to complete.”

"Let a young girl of the Moon-level do it?"

"Ah."

There was no need to say anything more; everyone present understood what this meant.

Failure was inevitable.

However, if they fail... the Crown Clan's resource quota can be "legitimately and legally" redistributed.

The conference room fell into a brief silence.

After a moment, the gentle voice from the southeast sounded again:

"This plan is indeed feasible, but I have a question."

"please say."

"Ralph".

Upon hearing this name, everyone's projections paused slightly.

"Ron Ralph, Eve's mentor and fiancé."

The southeast direction continued:

"This young man is no ordinary person."

"The strength of the Dark Sun level, the founder of Narrative Potions, and the multiple backgrounds of the King of Absurdity, the King of Records, and the King of Illusions."

"If he chooses to fully support Eve..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his worry was palpable.

"Ralph is indeed a variable."

The figure in the north admitted:

"Don't forget, he's very busy right now."

"The Chaotic Blood World, the Abyss Observatory, and he seems to have a position in Vinard's colony as well..."

"Leaving aside whether he can spare the time to help his fiancée, our plan is to get things done as soon as possible."

Zheng Bei's tone became confident: "Quickly complete the first round of pressure on Eve and force her to make a choice."

"Although Ralph is capable, he does not hold any position within the academic alliance; at most, he has an honorary title of associate professor."

"Even if he is very capable, he can't use his position at the observatory to overstep his authority and force the entire academic alliance to retract its resolution, can he?"
"Unless he can bring Cassandra back and exercise his veto power, how can he possibly fight against so many of us elders!"

These words drew nods of agreement from everyone present.

Using one's position to prevent them from overstepping their authority is indeed a good strategy.

“Then…” Zheng Bei looked around: “Everyone, let’s vote.”

"Those who support this plan, please express your opinion."

A hand is raised.

Two.

three.

……

Ultimately, five out of the seven projections raised their hands.

"very good."

The figure to the north nodded in satisfaction:
"Then, the plan is officially launched."

"Tomorrow morning, the School Alliance will convene an 'interim council' to discuss the following agenda items..."

"Assess the legitimacy of the current heir's seat in the Crown Clan."

His voice echoed in the conference room, like a verdict:

"Let's see, that little princess..."

"Just how capable are they?"

The projectors gradually dimmed, plunging the conference room back into darkness. (End of Chapter)