Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 691 Fated Death

The void was torn apart.

A huge crack slowly opened up in the place where the blood-corroding power was most concentrated.

On the other side of the crack lies a deep red "kingdom".

There was no sky, no earth, only an endless sea of blood and floating corpses.

This is where Aiden sleeps—the Blood King's Palace.

From the "Blood King's Palace," a hand slowly reached out.

The hand was formed from pure blood, and the twisted bone outlines could be seen at the joints.

It held a blood-dripping spear, poised to throw it.

—A predetermined death!
"Ralph!"

Miller's voice came through the combat channel, filled with heart-wrenching terror.

But Ron didn't have time to respond.

The blood-dripping spear was thrown with indescribable speed.

No, it can't even be described as "speed".

It's more like an "inevitability"—from the moment the spear leaves the hand, it's destined to hit the target.

Ron's reaction was incredibly fast. After realizing he couldn't dodge, he fully activated [Threshold of Darkness].

The gate woven from starlight and chaos materialized before him, releasing a defense powerful enough to withstand a full-force attack from a great wizard of the same level.

At the same time, the suppressive power of the [Silent Theater] was fully activated, slowing down the flow of time in an attempt to suppress the "inevitability" of that blood spear.

He even mobilized the power of the Thunderfire Pillar to add another layer of fluid energy shield to the outer layer of the illusory projection.

Triple defenses are constructed in the blink of an eye.

This is the most extreme defense he can currently execute.

However, the blood spear pierced through everything.

The door to the Dark Threshold was pierced, and the veil of chaos that could conceal everything was torn apart.

The suppressive power of the [Silent Theater] was forcibly crushed, as fragile as paper, and the time slowdown was completely ineffective.

The lightning and fire shield turned to dust upon contact, causing no resistance whatsoever.

The spearhead pierced the chest of the illusory body.

Is this the power of half a Witch King?

The mere arrival of a projection was enough to utterly defeat him.

A sharp pain surged from the depths of my soul.

"boom--!"

The sound of the explosion echoed through the sky.

The space completely collapsed at the point where the blood spear pierced, forming a pitch-black vortex tens of meters in diameter.

The vortex spun wildly, devouring everything around it.

Air, light, sound, and even a small part of the command tower were swept up and disappeared into an unknown dimensional rift.

Everyone on the battlefield was stunned.

The defenders, the enemy, the vampires, the humans... no matter which side they were on, they were all rendered powerless at this moment.

They just stared blankly at the dark vortex, at the gradually dissipating crimson light, at...

"Lord Ralph!"

"A soldier shouted in disbelief."

At the top of the command tower, only ruins remain.

Ron Ralph's figure disappeared.

The blood hand had already retreated back into the crack, as if everything that had just happened was just an illusion.

But the horrific scene on the command tower, the lingering stench of blood in the air, and the indescribable fear in everyone's hearts...

All of this silently proves that it all really happened.

"This...this is really the end." Silas's face was ashen.

“Ralph… he actually…” Miller’s voice was so hoarse that it was almost unrecognizable.

That hand and the blood-dripping spear possessed the power to crush everything...

That is clearly...

"He has descended..."

A trembling voice came through the combat channel.

Euphemia collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably.

Her legs lost their strength, and all the color drained from her face.

"Ms. Euphemia..."

The medic next to him tried to help, but was stopped by the other party's wave.

Euphemia's voice was hoarse, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between her teeth:
"Father..."

As soon as that word was spoken, the combat channel seemed to be silenced.

Aiden, the "Lord of Blood," the mad king who has slumbered for thousands of years, has finally... awakened?
"No, he hasn't fully woken up yet."

Euphemia struggled to remain rational: "That was just His projection."

"But even if it's just a projection."

Her gaze fell on the dark vortex: "That's enough..."

Taking advantage of this opportunity, the floating fortress began to move.

Although one of them has been destroyed by Ron, the remaining two are still in use.

The blood energy cannon array began to charge, and the crimson light grew brighter and brighter.

Miller noticed that the vampire soldiers rushing down from the warships and floating fortresses... were all acting strangely.

Their eyes were pure blood red, devoid of any remaining reason.

It let out a beastly roar, and its movements were frantic and chaotic.

Yet their attacks were unusually coordinated, like puppets controlled by the same consciousness.

"This is... a group's blood rage!"

Euphemia quickly deduced: "The three dukes are casting spells from a distance!"

The defenders present quickly understood what she meant.

Those blood-red-eyed vampires completely disregarded their own injuries.

Some had their arms broken, yet they continued to climb.

Some were pierced through the chest, yet they were still waving their claws.

Some even had only half a body left, yet they were still crawling forward with their remaining arms.

They are tireless, fearless, and painless.

All they know is attack, attack, attack...

………………

At dawn, the first light of day appears in the chaotic world of blood and chaos.

Toby stood on the city wall, gripping a rifle tightly in his hand.

Although it was well-maintained, the paint on the stock had peeled off, revealing the dark wood grain underneath.

After all, it was standard equipment issued 23 years ago, which accompanied him through countless routine patrols, but he had never actually fired a single shot.

After all these years, his hair has turned as white as if it had been soaked in frost and snow.

My back is hunched and my knees always ache in damp weather.

"To be honest, I never thought I'd ever need one of these in my life."

Toby looked at the rifle in his hand.

The young man next to him, an apprentice named Daniel, was clumsily checking the magazine:

"Me too... I was tightening screws in the factory last week, and today..."

"Stop talking nonsense," Toby interrupted him.

"Remember what we were taught in training—aim, breathe, pull the trigger, it's that simple."

“But the instructor said we only need to be in charge of logistics.” Daniel’s voice was even softer.

"That was before," Toby said helplessly.
“The regular army is suffering too many casualties, so we reservists have to go too.”

His gaze swept over his comrades-in-arms.

He recognized some of the faces; they were old colleagues he had worked with at the factory.
Some were completely unfamiliar, perhaps reinforcements urgently transferred from the other side of the city.

The same expression was written on everyone's face—fear, and the effort to suppress that fear with willpower.

"coming!"

The sentry on the watchtower sounded the alarm, the sound amplified by a loudspeaker and echoing throughout the entire section of the city wall.

Toby looked in the direction of the sound.

In the twilight of eternal twilight, the horizon is shifting.

At first, there were only some blurry shadows, like dark clouds rising from the sea.

Then the shadows gradually solidified, their outlines becoming clear—enemy reinforcements were approaching.

Each warship is five stories high.

The bow of the ship is a hideous skull, with eerie blue flames burning in its empty eye sockets, watching its prey that is about to be devoured.

Toby felt his heart skip a beat.

He had seen images of these warships—in a special edition of the Dawn newspaper, and in slides of military training.

But seeing the actual object in person is a completely different experience.

The feeling of oppression was like a moving mountain crushing you.

Even more terrifying is the shadow beneath the sea.

Toby initially thought it was just a reflection of the warship or an accumulation of algae in the seawater.

But as the shadow began to move, to rise, to emerge from the water... the entire bay seemed to tremble.

The incredibly large sea monster had a back that was hundreds of meters long, with only a small section of its back visible above the water, resembling an island that had suddenly appeared.

Its grayish-brown skin was covered with scars and barnacles, and countless tentacles danced in the water.

Toby initially thought those were the giant beast's "arms," but upon closer inspection, he realized they were just the giant beast's "hair."

Then he saw more.

Around Leviathan, the seawater began to boil, and countless creatures emerged from the sea.

It looks somewhat like a giant octopus, with its tentacles covered in barbs;

Some are groups of fish-men, their mouths filled with sharp teeth;
Some of them cannot be described as common creatures at all; they are just wriggling lumps of flesh covered with eyes and mouths.
"Deep-sea family"

Toby overheard an old soldier muttering to himself:

"Legend has it that Leviathan can summon everything in the sea. I thought it was just a scary story."

"By the Holy Mother..."

Someone nearby kept muttering to themselves, their voice filled with despair.

Toby tried to open his mouth to say something, but found that his throat was also blocked by something, and he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

"Coastal artillery positions in place!"

The commander's orders came from afar and were relayed through loudspeakers.

"Target locked!"

"Charging complete!"

"Fire!"

Toby instinctively covered his ears.

Dozens of coastal defense guns opened fire simultaneously, creating a deafening roar.

The explosion illuminated the entire sea surface.

In that instant, he felt as if he had witnessed a real sunrise.

The kind of scene that I've only read about in books but never seen in person.

The intense light bathed everything in a golden-red hue, including the warships, the behemoths, and even his own aged hands.

But after the light faded, the warship continued to move forward.

Cracks appeared on the surface of the shield, but it did not collapse immediately.

Leviathan didn't even change its stance; the cannon fire that was enough to destroy a city-state was just a drizzle to it.

"Keep firing!"

"Charge! Charge!"

"Round Two!"

Another salvo, another burst of fire, and another... in vain.

Toby felt his hope slipping away, like sand in an hourglass, impossible to grasp.

In the distance, Leviathan began to roar.

The seawater ripples under the impact of sound waves, spreading outwards in concentric circles.

Toby's internal organs were trembling.

The giant beast's "hair strands" emerged from the sea and swept towards the defensive fortifications on the shore.

They are incredibly fast.

Toby only had time to see a gray shadow flash across his field of vision, and then... boom!

The whole world is shaking.

Not far away, the No. 2 gun emplacement, along with dozens of soldiers on it, was smashed into mincemeat by a single hair.

Flesh, metal, concrete... all were mixed into an unrecognizable paste.

After a hail of stones, warm liquid fell on Toby's face.

He raised his hand to wipe it and saw that his palm was covered in dark red blood.

Whose blood is that?
Daniel's? Mary's? Or that of some young soldier whose name he couldn't recall?
Toby felt a churning in his stomach, but he didn't have time to think any further.

Because the second "hair strand" has already swept this way.

………………

The moment Ron was pierced by the blood spear, he felt as if he had been thrown into a boiling furnace.

The pain did not come from the body—the great wizard's body was merely a projection of his ethereal form, and mere physical trauma could not truly harm him. What was truly injured was his "essence."

That blood spear carried an indescribable power.

It hooked him roughly like a rusty iron hook, dragging him into a completely unfamiliar dimension.

"Forced traction?"

Ron remained clear-headed amidst the chaos.

This is undoubtedly a "summoning," a compelling and irresistible summoning from a higher dimension.

Just like a fisherman reeling in his fishing line or a hunter pulling in his net to catch his prey, he himself gets "fished" up.

All the colors in front of me are melting.

Blue sky, white clouds, the silhouette of a city at dusk, the firelight on the battlefield...

Everything was like paint thrown into acid, quickly disintegrating, flowing, and mixing.

In the end, only two colors remained: deep red and jet black.

After an unknown amount of time, when his consciousness re-established, he found himself "standing" in the middle of a sea of blood.

"here it is……"

He looked around, his mind racing, and quickly came to a conclusion.

As early as when he was promoted to the Moon Rank, Professor Yutel had given a preliminary explanation of the concept of "Kingdom".

Each witch king has his own "kingdom".

That was the product of their embodiment of their own ideals, the ultimate extension of the illusory, and the embodiment of personal will.

The form of a nation often reflects the deepest essence of its people.

This sea of blood before my eyes...

"Chaotic, thirsty, and full of contradictions."

Ron analyzed, "This is not a 'healthy' country."

As he pondered, fragments of memory began to emerge from the sea of blood.

He saw some things that horrified him.

The first fragment depicts a dark basement.

In a corner of the basement, huddled up... a creature.

I call it a "living thing" because I cannot describe its form using any known words.

The face... could hardly be called a "face," it was just a huge mouth torn to the roots of the ears, with three rows of jagged fangs inside.

The creature was huddled in a corner, trembling all over.

At the other end of the basement, a woman dressed in a lab coat was walking slowly towards them.

She had long, silver-blue hair and looked only sixteen or seventeen years old, yet she exuded a weariness that was inconsistent with her age.

To put it bluntly, they have a strong "class vibe".

It was Hilda; Ron recognized her.

In this fragment of memory, the "girl" is carrying a tray toward the monster.

"Aiden," Hilda said softly, "Are you feeling better today?"

The curled-up monster raised its head.

"Have something to eat." Hilda placed the bowl in front of it.

The monster hesitated for a moment, then reached out its deformed arm and picked up the bowl.

While it ate, Hilda sat quietly to the side, her eyes filled with... pity?

Or something else?
The image began to blur, and fragments sank into the sea of blood.

The second fragment appears.

This time, the scene is a magnificent hall.

In the center of the hall stands a throne carved from bone and blood crystal.

And sitting on the throne... was the monster from before.

Unlike before, this time the monster is dressed in fine clothes.

Below the stage, countless vampires knelt on the ground.

"Long live Lord Aiden!"

"Long live the King of Blood!"

"Our king will lead us to glory!"

A deafening roar of praise echoed through the hall.

The image blurred again, and a third fragment rose up.

Ron frowned.

The scenes I witnessed this time... were all too familiar and too cruel.

The scene is a laboratory, with walls stained with countless dried bloodstains.

In the center of the laboratory, there was a woman lying in a pool of blood, her body already... mostly dismantled.

Selna.

At this moment, she is being... devoured.

Standing beside her was the monster.

His mouth was wide open, exceeding the limits of his biological structure.

From that mouth, countless tiny tentacles extended, slowly dragging Selna's body, along with her ethereal remains, into it.

Ron looked away.

“These fragments… should be an abstract projection of Aiden’s memories.”

His power was so great that even the subconscious could form an independent dimension.

In this dimension, the deepest memories automatically surface and become concrete.

These fragments are the "trauma" deep within His soul, the secret He least wanted to be known.

Just as he had this thought, the crimson ocean stopped flowing.

Those floating fragments of memory were put on pause, hovering motionless in mid-air.

Even Ron himself found it difficult to breathe.

Then, the entire sea of blood began to boil.

At the heart of that tumultuous scene, a "human figure" is rising.

In the short span of time it took to observe, its appearance had changed no less than ten times, finally settling into the form of a middle-aged man.

This form looks...surprisingly ordinary, even carrying a hint of a kind and friendly smile.

“Welcome to my territory, young man,” the man said.

"I have been waiting for this moment for a long time."

“Aiden.” Now that he had come this far, Ron naturally wouldn’t be intimidated by this “false king.”

"Or perhaps the King of Blood?"

"Oh?"

The figure's lips curled up slightly: "You know me too?"

"The ruler of the chaotic world, the nominal ancestor of the thirteen clans, the source of the bloodline curse..."

Ron listed them one by one:

"Your name is known to everyone in the world."

"is it?"

Aiden chuckled softly: "So what did they say about me?"

"You call me a tyrant? A madman? An old order that must be overthrown?"

There was no anger in his tone:
"Or... shall I be an invincible god, the ruler of all vampires, the Blood King?"

“Both,” Ron answered truthfully. “It depends on which side the speaker is on.”

“Not bad.” Aiden nodded, as if evaluating a student’s answer:

"You are much calmer than I expected."

"Being dragged into an unfamiliar dimension and facing an existence far stronger than yourself, yet you can remain so composed..."

His gaze held a scrutinizing quality: "Is it because you think you're confident you can escape?"

"Or... do you simply not care about life and death?"

Aiden spread his hands: "You know what, little wizard."

"Actually, I've been observing you for a long time."

“From the moment you stepped into the chaotic world of bloodshed, I have seen every decision you made, every action you took, and even every thought you had.

His smile turned sinister: "What 'new order' do you think you're building?"

"What kind of 'cursed life' do you think you're saving?"

"No, you're just carrying out my plan."

"What plan?" Ron's tone remained calm as ever.

"Your 'Harmony Potion,' your 'Daywalker Project'..."

Aiden stopped and looked him straight in the eye: "You think those were all your creations?"

“Every vampire you ‘heal’ weakens the ‘binding’ of my bloodline curse.”

"And when the restraints disappear..."

He opened his arms wide, his voice filled with joy: "Then I will be able to fully awaken."

"So I want to thank you, Ron Ralph."

"Everything you've done is helping me..."

"Are you done talking?" Ron interrupted him.

Aiden paused for a moment.

"If I've finished speaking, I have two questions."

Ron's gaze swept over the floating fragments of memory around him:

"First, what are the rules of this 'imaginary space'?"

"Second... are you planning to use some means to deal with me, trying to buy time by talking?"

This completely unscripted reaction caused Aiden's expression to freeze for a moment.

His smile then became even brighter:
"Your mental fortitude is stronger than I imagined."

"But this will only lead to what happens next..."

He raised his hand and pointed at Ron: "Even more interesting."

The blood-red plains began to tremble.

Those floating fragments of memory were drawn together by some force, converging in one direction.

As the light flashed, a figure began to materialize.

This time, it was an old man who appeared.

This guy has really been out of touch with the main world for too long, still using such outdated illusion techniques.

Ron felt a surge of annoyance when he saw the most respected figure appear here.

“Child,” “Yutel” said sternly, leaning on an ebony cane. “You’ve been too reckless lately.”

He walked slowly, each step carrying the dignity of an elder:

"I have to tell you..."

Before he could finish speaking, a bolt of lightning struck down from the sky.

Lightning cleaved the figure of "Yutel" in two, and the charred remains fell onto the blood-red plain, emitting acrid smoke.

“The professor never uses a cane,” Ron said casually. “He thinks it makes him look old.”

Aiden frowned slightly and waved his hand.

This time, it was an old woman with a hooked nose who appeared.

Her face was terrifying, with wrinkles crisscrossing like ravines.

"child……"

Mrs. Allen wore a relieved smile.
"You've done very well..."

She was wearing that signature old apron, which even had a few old stains on it.

"There's no need to pretend anymore..." She wiped her hands on her apron.
"Come back, let me make you another cup of herbal tea... just like before..."

This time, Ron paused for a moment.

His gaze lingered on "Mrs. Allen" for a few seconds.

That familiar hooked nose, slightly narrowed eyes, lips that trembled slightly when speaking... it really does look alike.

"This time it's good, you put in the effort," he commented.

"The details are handled very well; even the stains on the apron have been restored."

"But you've missed something."

He raised his hand, starlight gathering at his fingertips: "My wife will never let me 'not need to pretend anymore'."

"She would say..." The light began to expand:

“You can rest for a while, but you must never stop.”

"Only the dead stop."

Starlight poured down, and Mrs. Allen's figure vanished in the light.

After two illusions were shattered, Aiden's expression finally changed.