Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 683 Completed
Ron arrived at the outer corridor of the Temple of Truth half an hour early.

Cecilia followed behind him, carrying a stack of manuscripts in her arms.

"Sir, the copies of the thesis are all ready."

The silver-haired maid's voice was filled with undisguised pride.

She devoted two whole months of her life to this paper, from its framework to its wording.

Although the core data and theories were provided by Ron.

But transforming those difficult and obscure academic contents into clear and fluent text is the result of her meticulous work, word by word.

"Thank you for your hard work, Cecilia."

Ron took one of the copies and casually flipped through a few pages.

"The wording and data presentation are perfect." He exclaimed sincerely, "It's even better than I expected."

Cecilia nodded, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.

To be honest, my recent efforts to help Ron were not entirely due to His Highness's orders.

Eve revealed a few days ago that she plans to send her to the Chaotic Blood World for some "training" in a while.

It's called a training program, but in reality, it's just about doing hard labor.

Having been by Eve's side for years, the black-haired princess has been almost demanding in terms of work efficiency.

Every report must be reviewed three times, and every decision must be considered in light of five possible consequences.

I'm busy from morning till night, wishing I could stretch one day into three.

Although Cecilia is loyal, she also longs to be able to "reasonably" slack off occasionally.

Meanwhile, in the chaotic world, although it is nominally Ron's territory...

But according to what she found out, the management team there was much more relaxed.

Captain Miller is a forthright veteran, while researcher Silas spends all his time in the lab...

As for the professor himself, based on my observation, he rarely interferes with the process as long as the results meet the standards.

So as long as she pleases Ron now, he'll probably turn a blind eye if she slacks off or does nothing when she gets to the Chaotic Blood World, right?
Ron had no idea what the maid behind him was plotting.

He closed his paper and turned his gaze to the bronze door at the end of the corridor.

The door is said to record all the great wizards who have received the title of "Professor" since the Third Age.

After today, there will be one more name on it.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from the depths of the corridor.

Ron turned his head and saw three figures in apprentice robes rushing towards him.

The leader was a boy who looked no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, with his glasses perched crookedly on his nose.

Behind him were a man and a woman of similar age, both with excited expressions that said, "We've finally found it."

“…Professor Ralph!”

The boy in the lead stammered, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.

"Can we...can we..."

His lips moved several times, but he seemed unable to find the right words to express his request.

"Need an autograph?" Ron finished the sentence for him with a smile.

"And a group photo!" his female apprentice behind him quickly added, "We are ardent fans of your theories!"

Another male apprentice also said eagerly:
"Our academy's instructors say that your theory has completely overturned the traditional paradigm of potion science!"

"Last month, the front page of the alliance's academic journal featured a special report about you..."

The three young people chatted away, their enthusiasm almost overwhelming him.

The first apprentice tremblingly handed over a notebook; the cover was worn, clearly showing signs of frequent use.

"Professor Ralph, may I ask you to sign your name on the title page?"

Ron took the notebook and turned to the first page.

The room was already filled with all sorts of learning experiences, written in neat and careful handwriting.

Several sticky notes were also tucked into the margins, marked with annotations such as "To be verified," "Needs to be re-derived," and "This formula has a problem."

"A very careful study record."

He wrote his name on the title page, then added a line in small print: "The thirst for knowledge never ceases."

The second apprentice handed over a textbook titled "Basic Theory of Narrative Potions".

The cover was already slightly warped, and there were traces of repair tape on the spine.

"I've read this book seven times!" the apprentice exclaimed excitedly. "Every time I read it, I gain new insights!"

The third apprentice hesitated for a moment, then took out a small notebook from his pocket:

"Professor, this is my research notes, which contain some ideas about 'narrative resonance'."

I don't know. Could you take a look and offer some guidance?

This request is much bolder than the previous two.

The two apprentices beside him watched nervously, afraid that they might be being presumptuous.

Ron took the notebook and began to carefully look through it.

Although the contents of the notebook are immature, traces of thought can be seen.

The conclusion that "emotional imprints fade over time" is quite interesting.

He paused on one of the pages and wrote a few lines of advice:

"Although the conclusion needs more data to support it, the approach is correct."

"We could try introducing a 'memory strength coefficient' to quantify this decay. Refer to the formula in Chapter 7 of 'Emotional Energy Science'; perhaps we can find a mathematical model for it."

"Thank you, Professor Xie! I will try my best!"

After signing, the apprentices surrounded Ron, recording the crystal floating in the air, automatically adjusting to the best angle.

"Crack!"

At this heartwarming moment, footsteps echoed from the other end of the corridor.

Cyrus and two other veteran wizards happened to be passing by.

The other person looked much more haggard than they had six months ago.

His eyes were sunken, his complexion was sallow, and his already gray hair seemed to have thinned even more.

When he looked up and his eyes met Ron's, he visibly froze.

The crushing defeat in the last collision with the void has clearly left an indelible shadow on this veteran.

It is said that in the past six months, Cyrus has almost never left his home and has never appeared in any public place.

His Tower of Fragments was severely damaged in that collision and has not yet been fully restored.

“Senior Cyrus.”

Ron nodded in greeting.

Cyrus nodded in agreement, just as instinctively.

His lips trembled a few times, as if he wanted to say something—was it a greeting? An explanation? Or some kind of insincere politeness?

But in the end, he couldn't say anything.

He turned around abruptly and hurriedly walked towards another corridor, his steps almost disheveled.

The two wizards beside him exchanged glances, nodded slightly to Ron, and could only hurry after him, disappearing around the corner of the corridor.

The three young apprentices stared in disbelief at the scene, their eyes wide with astonishment.

"Was that...the Great Wizard Cyrus?"

The boy in the lead asked in a low voice.

"It's that one who was..."

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" The female apprentice quickly covered her companion's mouth, looking around warily.

But in the girl's eyes was excitement at the "legend being proven true".

"Master, it's almost time. We should go in."

"Ah."

Ron snapped out of his thoughts and nodded slightly to the three apprentices:

"Study hard, and you might have the opportunity to become colleagues in the future."

"Yes!"

The three apprentices bowed excitedly, watching each other's figures disappear at the end of the corridor.

………………

The main hall of the Temple of Truth was now packed to capacity.

Not only were all the seats in front of the stage filled, but the side corridors and the standing area at the back were also packed with wizards who came to watch the ceremony.

The scale of this ceremony far exceeded that of a typical grand wizard's selection for a full professorship.

Not only were there core members of the academic alliance, but also representatives from various academies, and even several veteran wizards who had been in seclusion for many years made a special trip to attend.

In front of the podium, there was a long judging panel.

Several high-ranking members of the academic alliance sat upright, each with a thick document in front of them.

Space suddenly distorted, as if an invisible hand was kneading the wrinkles of reality.

Light is deflected at the point of distortion, and colors mix, separate, and recombine within it, ultimately forming a dreamlike vortex of light and shadow.

A female figure appeared out of nowhere on the stage.

"Your Majesty Saint Pandora!"

Someone exclaimed in surprise.

The whispering abruptly ceased, all the murmurs swallowed up by the sudden shock.

This being, hailed as the "most mysterious sorcerer king of the Second Era," actually presided over the ceremony for the selection of a full professor!
Does this mean that the highest levels of the entire wizarding civilization attach unprecedented importance to Ron?
Pandora was still wearing that shimmering long dress, her face veiled by a thin veil, only her vague outline visible.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the ceremony is now officially beginning."

Her voice reached everyone's ears clearly.

"Ron Ralph".

As Pandora uttered the name, the dome of the hall suddenly lit up.

"Today, he will show us... whether the limits of life can be broken."

Thunderous applause erupted.

But soon, it was pressed down again by the host's raised hand.

"However, before we officially begin."

Pandora's tone was somewhat intriguing: "I'd like to ask Ron a question first."

Ron bowed and said, "Please enlighten me, Your Majesty."

What do you think the title "professor" represents?

Without hesitation, Ron replied, "To impart knowledge, teach skills, and resolve doubts."

"A professor is someone who imparts knowledge; that is what makes a teacher. But a true professor should do more than that."

"Oh?" Pandora asked with interest, "Then what else do you think should be done?"

"Break. Break free from old constraints, break free from rigid thinking, break free from seemingly unshakeable 'common sense'."

"A true professor should be like a pioneer holding a torch—illuminating the way forward while also daring to burn away the rotten old things."

There was an uproar.

But Pandora laughed.

“Very good answer. Well then, let’s see what you’re going to ‘burn’.”

The Witch King retreated to the highest point of the platform, his figure gradually merging into the light and shadow.

"Let's begin."

Ron walked up to the podium.

His gaze swept across the audience—there were excited young scholars, old wizards with unspeakable expressions, and Alvin and Cyrus in the corner who dared not meet his eyes.

And even more so, there were those expectant eyes.

"Dear seniors and colleagues."

His voice was amplified and carried throughout the entire venue:
"Before we begin, I'd like to share one of my combat experiences."

"When I first ventured into the Chaotic Blood World as a Dark Sun-class cultivator, I encountered my first real enemy."

Images began to appear on the large screen.

That was a desolate wasteland under the eternal twilight of the chaotic blood world, with a blood-red sky pressing low and the ground covered with dry cracks.

"His name is Alex, and he is the most powerful marquis of the Heart Clan."

A figure appeared in the scene, exuding the terrifying aura unique to marquis-level vampires.

"But he is also a prisoner."

Ron's voice turned heavy: "Bound by Aiden's curse, he lost his mind and became a tyrannical monster."

The image began to distort.

The figure suddenly went berserk, its four-lobed mouth opening wide, emitting a beast-like roar.

Everything around him was torn apart by his rage—buildings, trees, even his former kin.
"I was thinking at the time, if I could remove the curse while retaining the power."

"Break free from the shackles of bloodline and unleash true potential."

"What will happen then?"

People in the audience started whispering among themselves.

Whispers spread like ripples as everyone discussed this audacious idea.

“This is the origin of the ‘Daywalker Project’…” ​​Ron’s voice suddenly rose: “A crazy idea about breaking the limiters.”

"After decades of research in the chaotic world, countless failures, and countless restarts,..."

"We found the answer."

Ron snapped his fingers.

On the big screen, the image froze on a figure—it was [Shadow Whistle].

The headless figure stood on a high ground in the main world, with the rising sun just behind it.

The golden morning light shone on it, making its skin slightly red, and something seemed to be surging in its veins. But it didn't burn, didn't feel pain, and didn't even feel any discomfort.

It simply stood there quietly, facing the light that should have burned it to ashes.

Then, it spread its wings.

It leaped into the air and soared into the golden sky, flying in the sunlight.

The entire audience erupted in uproar!

"How...how is this possible?!"

"Vampires flying in the sunlight?!"

"This violates the principles of supernatural physiology!"

"It must be an illusion!"

"Wait, that burn reaction on the skin...it doesn't look fake."

The clamor was like boiling water, churning within the main hall.

Ron didn't explain immediately, but waited quietly.

As the commotion gradually subsided, and as various emotions such as doubt, shock, and anticipation fermented in the air to a critical point, the clamor gradually subsided.

Then, he slowly spoke:
"We have made three key breakthroughs..."

He raised his right hand and extended one finger:
"First: Sunlight resistance."

"The modified vampires can move around normally in sunlight."

Although you may feel unwell, your physical functions will decrease by about 20%.

But they won't burn, they won't disintegrate, they won't die from sunlight.

More experimental data began to play on the large screen:

Physiological response curves of vampires under different light intensities;

Microscopic changes in skin tissue under sunlight exposure;
Real-time monitoring of magic flow.
Every set of data proves that this is not an illusion, not an external shield cast by a wizard, and certainly not some opportunistic trick.

This is a genuine, repeatable, and verifiable finding in mysticism.

Ron extended his second finger:
"Second: Immunity to pollution."

Screen switch.

[Shadow Whistle] Standing in a room filled with industrial fumes.

The dark green mist was so thick it was almost tangible; if an ordinary vampire were exposed to it for three minutes, their bloodline purity would drop by more than 50%.

However, [Shadow Whistle] not only did not weaken, but was slowly getting stronger.

Data monitoring shows that his blood purity actually began to rise after he came into contact with the pollutants!
From 78% 79% 80%
"They can not only resist industrial pollution, but can even turn it into nutrients."

Ron's voice carried a certain pride:

"This means that the modified vampires can fight in industrial zones, polluted areas, and even chemical battlefields, and they will become stronger as they fight!"

The murmurs from the audience grew louder.

If "sunlight resistance" only broke through one of the vampires' weaknesses, then "pollution immunity" completely changed the strategic landscape.

Imagine an army of vampires that can move freely in industrially polluted areas, thriving in humanity's most prized industrial civilization.
What a terrifying power that would be.

"third……"

Ron's voice suddenly turned serious, and he held up his third finger: "And the most important..."

He paused for a moment, drawing everyone's attention to this point.

"Increase the potential ceiling!"

Data charts are displayed on the large screen.

Those are a set of contrasting curves:
The growth curve of traditional vampires tends to flatten out after reaching a certain critical point, and eventually stagnates completely.

It's like a river that has hit a dam and can no longer flow forward.

The modified vampire's curve, although its rate of increase may fluctuate, always maintains an upward trend.

Without stagnation or bottlenecks, it climbed steadily upwards.
"Traditional vampires, limited by bloodline curses, often have their potential locked away very early on."

Ron's finger traced a line in the air, and the graph magnified with his movement:

“It can take anywhere from fifty to eighty years for a baron to be promoted to viscount.”

"It may take two to three hundred years for a viscount to be promoted to earl."

"The promotion of a count to a marquis is something most vampires cannot achieve even in their entire lives."

"but……"

His tone suddenly became more assertive: "The vampires, after being modified by our technology, have a growth curve that consistently rises!"

"Theoretically, an ordinary baron, after being modified, could potentially be promoted to earl within a hundred years."

“A viscount has the potential to become a marquis.”

"even."

His gaze swept over the high priests below the stage, his voice carrying a hint of challenge:

"The number of marquises who can break through to the level of grand duke is no longer limited to thirteen, relying solely on the bloodline inheritance of the 'King of Blood'."

The young scholars' eyes blazed with enthusiasm upon hearing this discovery;
The associate professors and high priests had complex expressions, but they had to acknowledge the significance of this achievement.

After the noise subsided slightly, Ron continued:
"So, how was all of this achieved?"

He pulled up a new chart, which was an extremely complex theoretical framework diagram:
"The answer lies in two concepts—obsession and memory."

The large screen began to display microscopic structures, from the cellular level to the gene level, and then to the deeper "information level".

"Bloodline characteristics are essentially a kind of 'life memory'."

"Just like your body has learned how to breathe and how your heart beats."

"The vampire's body remembers how to regenerate, how to manipulate blood, and how to fear sunlight."

“These ‘memories’ are etched into every cell of their bodies, passed down from generation to generation, and never change.”

"And a curse."

His voice turned somber: "It's a kind of 'compulsive obsession'."

Aiden's ghostly figure appeared on the screen—although it was just a schematic diagram, it still exuded madness and oppression.

“Aiden imposes his will on all his descendants through his bloodline.”

"He made them obsessed with the thirst for blood, the pursuit of power, and the fear of sunlight."

"This obsession is so strong that it has become part of the vampire's instinct, engraved into the deepest part of their being."

Ron paced back and forth on the podium:

"So here's the question..."

He stopped and turned to face the audience:

"If these are all just memories and obsessions..."

"Can we 'rewrite' them?"

A young potions scholar in the audience couldn't help but stand up, his voice full of doubt:
"But Professor Ralph! Bloodline memories are etched into the genetic level!"
That's the code of life that took thousands, even tens of thousands of years to form!

"How could it possibly be rewritten?!"

"Unless," his voice turned sharp:
"Unless the original genetic structure is completely destroyed! But if that happens, can a vampire still be called a vampire?"

This question was echoed by many people.

Indeed, the stability and continuity of bloodline memories are the very foundation of extraordinary races.

If even this can be rewritten at will, wouldn't the entire life science system have to be overturned and rebuilt?
"A very good question."

Ron nodded; he had been waiting for this kind of question: "The answer is—chaos."

"The essence of chaos is the aggregation of possibilities; it neither creates nor destroys, but merely harmonizes."

His finger moved in the air, and the images on the big screen began to appear:
A vampire cell was exposed to the aura of chaos;
The gene chains in the cell nucleus begin to glow;
Those gene fragments representing bloodline memories began to slowly recombine.

"When we use the power of chaos to access bloodline memories, what happens is not deletion or overwriting."

"Instead, it is recompiled, preserving the existence itself, only changing the way it exists."

"Just like."

He used an analogy:

"It's like rewriting the contents of a book, but the book itself, the paper, the binding—none of these have changed."

"What has changed is only the meaning conveyed by the words."

"The specific process consists of three steps..."

"Step 1: Use Abyss Crystals to weaken negative emotions, but retain the framework of obsession."

The video demonstrates this process.

The abyssal crystals precisely remove the emotional imprints representing "madness," "tyranny," and "bloodlust" with the precision of a scalpel.

At the same time, the core obsessions that represent "becoming stronger," "survival," and "existence" are fully preserved.

"Step Two: Reconstruct the energy network with the power of chaos and establish new connections."

The chaotic energy, through some means, was gathered into countless threads, weaving and weaving through the weakened bloodline memories.

"The third step: Inject 'neutral obsession' to allow bloodline memories to accept a new 'reason for existence'."

Ron began to speak slowly:
"From 'I will obey Aiden' to 'I will exist'."

"From 'I crave blood' to 'I want to become stronger'."

"The obsession remains, but the direction has changed."

"The curse hasn't disappeared; it's just been redirected to a new path."

A lively discussion erupted from the audience.

Some people were quickly taking notes; some were whispering with their companions; and others had already begun to speculate on whether this technology could be applied to other fields.
After the discussion among Ron and the others subsided slightly, he continued:
Now, let's look to the future.

"This technology is by no means limited to vampires!"

The large screen began displaying various application prospects, each image brimming with allure:

"The werewolf's berserk curse—can be neutralized!"

In the image, a werewolf maintains his sanity on a full moon night.

"The arrogant nature of dragons—can be mitigated!"

A giant dragon lowered its body to engage in an equal dialogue with the tiny humans.

"The beast's wild instinct limitations—can be overcome!"

The various monsters in the video display intelligence that transcends instinct; they truly possess the potential for "evolution."

"even."

Ron's gaze swept over the great wizards:

"The wizard's ethereal flaws can theoretically be optimized."

A stone stirred up a thousand waves.

"what?!"

"Even a void can be optimized?!"

"How...how is this possible?!"

"The ethereal body is a manifestation of the soul; how can it be compared to bloodline memories?!"

The hall was filled with questions, exclamations, and incredulous clamor.

Even the great wizards on the platform, who had maintained their dignity, sat up straight, their eyes filled with shock.

Ron used his amplification technique to suppress these dissenting voices.

"I know what you're thinking."

“You believe that the ethereal body is the manifestation of the soul, which is completely different from the bloodline memory of the physical body.”

"But."

He then changed the subject: "Isn't the soul just another form of 'memory'?"

This rhetorical question surprised everyone.

Ron seized the opportunity and presented a theoretical deduction:
“The construction of the rudimentary form of the illusory body is essentially a kind of ‘manifestation of obsession’.”

"Our will, ideals, and pursuits are condensed into the form of a void."

"But this process is often imperfect."

The screen begins to show the various "flaws" of the undead:
"Some people may develop a mental block from a single failure, causing cracks to appear in their ethereal body."

In the image, the surface of a monstrous object is covered with spiderweb-like cracks, each crack representing a trauma.

“Some people may become so obsessed that their physical body becomes unbalanced.”

The other ethereal body was distorted, with some parts over-expanded and others shriveled and sunken, completely losing its harmony.

“Some people may even be forced to integrate into ‘fragments’ that do not belong to them due to external interference.”

The third ethereal body resembled a pieced-together monster, with parts of different styles forcibly combined together, and unstable energy fluctuations seeping through the seams.

Ron's gaze swept across the audience, finally settling on the figure huddled in the corner:
"【The Tower of Fragments】."

His voice was soft, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly: "Isn't that the best example?"

Cyrus's face turned ashen.

He wanted to stand up and retort, roaring, "What gives you the right to use me as an example?"
But there was nothing he could do, because that was the truth.

My own illusory body is indeed pieced together, indeed has countless flaws, and indeed does not deserve the word "complete".

"If we could use the 'obsession reconciliation' technique to repair these flaws, recompile the memories of the illusory remains, and remove impurities..."

"Then, more wizards will have the opportunity to break through their limits."

"Those wizards who are stuck at the Dark Sun level due to the flaws in the nascent form of the Void Mage might see the dawn of becoming a Great Wizard."

"Those great wizards who are unable to progress due to their inner conflicts may find a new breakthrough."

"This is the true meaning of the Daywalker Project."

"Break the limiters, unleash potential, and give every life the opportunity to reach its limits!"

After the words were spoken, everyone was processing what they had just heard.

If these theories come true, they will bring about tremendous changes.

Then, thunderous applause erupted once again!
(End of this chapter)