Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Ron stood in front of the makeshift tent, holding a thick roster in his hands.

That's the list of the fallen.

Every page was densely covered with names, some of which were still wet with ink, clearly having been added just now.

"As of now..." Miller's voice came from the side:
"Four thousand seven hundred and forty-two people have been confirmed dead, more than ten thousand are seriously wounded, and countless others are lightly wounded."

"About 30% of the buildings inside the city were damaged, and the port area was almost completely razed to the ground."

"The entire eastern city wall collapsed."

Ron didn't say anything, but simply turned to the next page of the roster.

Some names are accompanied by their job titles, while others are simply labeled "commoner".

Some were vampires, some were humans, and some were even refugees who had just arrived from other places.

“John Muller – a construction worker, was hit by falling debris from a floating fortress while evacuating civilians.”

The name made Ron pause slightly.

Those hands belong to the owner of the thirty-seventh position on the statue in the square. He is over seventy years old this year and should have retired long ago.

The other party had rescued three coworkers during a building collapse but lost a leg himself.

Now, he no longer needs a prosthetic leg.

"What about his family?"

"My wife survived the evacuation, and my son and grandson are also safe."

Miller also had some感慨 (feelings/reflections):
"It is said that Müller stayed behind voluntarily, saying he wanted to help direct the evacuation and did not want to leave first."

"The last record shows that he pushed several civilians around him into the protective barrier."

However, due to his advanced age and mobility issues, he fell to the ground and never had the chance to get up again.

Ron recalled what the other person had once said: "Buildings can be rebuilt, but human life is only once."

Now, John Stuart Mill has traded his own life for several others.

A commotion came from outside the tent.

That was the sound of rescue teams digging for survivors in the ruins—the clanging of metal, the rolling of stones, and occasionally, shouts.

Sometimes it's a joyful cheer, meaning another living person has been found;
More often than not, silence meant that all they had dug up was a cold corpse.

"Let's go."

Ron handed the roster back to Miller:

"Go and see them."

The first light of dawn spilled onto the dilapidated streets, turning the ruins a pale white.

The once bustling commercial district is now nothing but ruins, with shop signs hanging crookedly, some completely fallen off and buried under the rubble.

The air was filled with the smells of burning, blood, and some indescribable stench of decay.

That was the aura of death, which could not be completely dispelled no matter how many purification spells were used.

Ron walked through the ruins, and every few steps someone would bow to him.

There were soldiers in uniform, workers in overalls, and ordinary citizens.

Their faces were etched with exhaustion, their eyes were sunken, and their lips were chapped.

But when they see Ron, their cloudy eyes suddenly light up, as if they have seen light in the darkness.

"Lord Ralph!"

A young man covered in dust stood up from the rubble; he was a member of the rescue team.

His work clothes were tattered, and his palms were covered with cuts from gravel.

The blood mixed with the soil and formed a dark red scab.

"take a break."

Ron stepped forward and gently stroked the other's wound with his magic.

"No...no need, sir!"

The young man took a step back in a somewhat flustered manner.
"I can still work! There are still people buried over there, I have to..."

"You have been working for sixteen hours straight."

Ron interrupted him: "Go get something to eat and sleep for two hours."

"This is an order."

The young man opened his mouth, but ultimately nodded.

He staggered as he turned to leave.

Ron watched his figure disappear around the corner, then continued walking forward.

He passed a makeshift medical station with a long queue outside the tents.

The wounded were either sitting or lying down; some were groaning softly, while others had already fallen into a coma.

Medical staff moved about, their faces also etched with exhaustion.

His steps did not linger for long, because there were still so many places he needed to see, understand, and remember.

Amidst the ruins, some were weeping, some were praying, and others were silently digging, moving, and clearing.

No one complained, and no one backed down.

They knew that this city was one they had protected together;
Now, they are going to rebuild it together.

“Professor Ralph,” Euphemia’s voice came from behind. “The supplies have been tallied.”

She handed over a report:
"Grain reserves can last for three months, and the medicine inventory... is also sufficient."

"But there is a severe shortage of building materials, especially rune steel and blood crystals—the shortage of these two items is quite large."

Ron took the report and quickly glanced through it.

The data was even worse than he had anticipated.

The destructive power of war is all-encompassing, extending beyond just casualties and building damage.

There are also supply chain disruptions, damage to production facilities, and trade that is unlikely to recover in the short term.

"Any news from the Industrial Alliance?"

"Have."

Euphemia's expression became subtle:
"They expressed their willingness to 'prioritize' the supply of reconstruction materials to Twilight City."

"And the cost?"

"The revision of the trade agreement." She sneered.
"They want lower prices for rune weapons, as well as partial licensing of blood energy technology."

"What about the reformers?"

"Elder Saville sent a letter in person."

Euphemia handed over another document:
“He expressed his ‘deepest condolences’ on behalf of the reformers and offered to provide interest-free loans during the reconstruction period.”

"The condition is... that Twilight City can give the reformists a greater voice within the future 'joint governance' framework."

Ron looked at the letter without being surprised.

"Don't rush to reply. I'll find a way to get resources from the main world. There's no need to agree to their conditions."

He put the two documents away: "Once the situation stabilizes a bit more, we'll have more leverage in negotiations."

“There’s one more thing.” Euphemia hesitated for a moment: “The Heart Clan… has sent people.”

Ron's expression remained unchanged.

"The Arkadi delegation?"

“Yes,” Euphemia nodded. “They’ve been waiting outside the city for a long time.”

“They sent people every day to request an audience, and their words became more and more earnest each time.”

"Today they even sent a 'gift of condolence,' which is said to be an antique that the Heart Clan has treasured for two thousand years."

Ron waved his hand: "Let them keep waiting, return the gifts."

Euphemia paused for a moment, then understood what the other person meant.

Arkadi chose "neutrality" in the war.

They claim to be neutral, but in reality they are just observing and waiting to reap the benefits.

Now that the war is over and Twilight City has won, he wants a piece of the pie.

There's no such thing as a free lunch.

"besides……"

Ron's voice turned cold: "From now on, any communication requests from Arcady will be immediately cut off."

"No need to report to me."

"I understand."

Euphemia nodded, turned and left, her steps much lighter than when she arrived.

Ron continued walking forward, passing through ruins, and finally arrived at the city's central square.

The sculpture that once proclaimed "The people create everything" is now just a ruin.

The three giant figures, symbolizing different races, have collapsed, their steel bodies blown to pieces and scattered throughout the square.

The supporting arms on the base were also mostly damaged.

Some were melted by artillery fire, turning into twisted metal slag;

Some were broken off by boulders, leaving only half a limb;
Some, though well-preserved, are buried under rubble and await excavation.

Ron stood before the ruins, speechless for a long time.

He recalled the awe he felt when he first saw the sculpture.

Each of those outstretched hands represents a real person.

Their names, their stories, and the dedication they poured into this city.

Now, those hands lie amidst the ruins, just like their owners, waiting to be picked up again.

Should we rebuild?

Silas walked to his side, his voice tinged with hesitation:

"Reconstructing it exactly as it was would take at least several months."

"And the materials..."

“Not exactly as it was,” Ron interrupted him.

"What?" Silas was stunned.

“I said, we won’t rebuild it exactly as it was.”

Ron turned around, his gaze sweeping over the crowds clearing rubble around the square:
“This sculpture… needs to be changed.”

He raised his hand and used magic to draw a virtual model in the air.

That was a much grander sculpture.

The three giants representing racial unity still stand in the center, their postures similar yet different from before.

Their gazes no longer fell into the distance, but instead they lowered their heads and stared at the base beneath their feet.

On the base, the number of supporting arms increased from one hundred and eight to more.

The newly added arms were varied in appearance: some were rough and calloused, some were slender yet powerful, and some were even damaged, with severed fingers, burns, bullet holes... marks left by battle.

"These newly added hands..."

Silas suddenly realized: "Are they people who died in this battle?"

"Yes."

Ron nodded:

"Four thousand seven hundred and forty-two people, each of whose hands should be cast into a statue, supporting the future of this city."

"They protected Twilight City with their lives and deserve to be remembered."

He withdrew his magic, and the virtual model slowly dissipated:

"In addition, the date of this war should be engraved on the front of the base."

"From this day forward, this day will become..."

He thought for a moment, considering a suitable name: "Let's call it 'Dawn'."

"In memory of those who, in the darkest of times, illuminated the dawn with their lives."

Silas nodded solemnly: "I'll make the arrangements right away."

………………

The reconstruction work is proceeding in an orderly manner, and Twilight City's efficiency is astonishing as ever.

By the fifth day after the battle, most of the cleanup work had been completed.

A week later, temporary shelters began to be set up, and the citizens who had lost their homes were relocated to relatively safe areas.

In the days that followed, water and energy supplies gradually returned to normal, and the city's infrastructure began to function again.

Meanwhile, another, even more important task was being carried out in secret.

Dawn Tower, conference room.

Ron sat in the main seat, a stack of documents spread out in front of him.

Surrounding him were Miller, Euphemia, Silas, Ivy... all the core members of Twilight City.

"The reason I've gathered everyone here today is to discuss something."

Ron cut to the chase: "Nation building."

The moment those two words were uttered, everyone was taken aback.

Euphemia spoke first: "You mean... to formally establish a country?"

"To be precise, it's the federation."

Ron corrected:
"A federal government centered on Twilight City, uniting the reformists, the Industrial Alliance, and other forces willing to join."

He stood up and walked to the huge map of the chaotic world of bloodshed on the wall:
"You should all have seen one fact clearly in this war—the era of fighting alone is over."

"The alliance of the three major clans, coupled with Aiden's intervention, almost pushed us all into hell."

His finger traced across the map, from Twilight City to the Reformist Territory, and then to the Industrial Alliance's territory:
"We need a stronger union."

"A political entity that can integrate resources, coordinate efforts, and respond quickly to threats."

"Instead of things being like they are now, each going their own way and harboring their own ulterior motives."

Miller frowned: "The Federation's idea is good, but how exactly will it be implemented?"

"The reformers and the industrial alliance are not to be underestimated."

Why would they be willing to join?

“Because they had no choice.” Ron’s tone was cold:

"After this war, Twilight City has become the undisputed number one power in the Chaotic Blood World."

"We defeated the combined attack of the three major clans and killed three grand dukes..."

"The reformers need our military protection, and the industrial alliance needs our technological support."

“They can choose not to join, but the price is… marginalization.”

"Once the federation is established, all forces not within the federation will face the risk of being isolated."

“Trade channels will be cut off, resource supplies will be restricted, and they may even be politically excluded.”

"How long can they hold out then?"

Euphemia nodded thoughtfully:

"So, this is a 'join or be eliminated' situation?"

“It’s not that extreme.” Ron shook his head.
"The Federation should not be a vassal of Twilight City. We need an equal and cooperative community so that we can develop in a long-term and stable manner."

“Of course…” He smiled slightly, “On key issues, the opinions of Twilight City will carry more weight.”

"This is called 'consensus through consultation, but with priorities'."

Silas adjusted his glasses: "And the specific political structure?"

“This is the draft.” Ron picked up a document from the table and handed it to everyone to read:

"The highest authority is the 'Federal Parliament,' which is composed of representatives from each member power."

"Parliament is responsible for enacting laws, approving budgets, and deciding on major matters such as war." "Daily administration is handled by the 'Executive Committee,' whose chairman is elected by Parliament."

"For the first chairman... I will nominate Euphemia."

Euphemia was stunned.

"I?"

“You are a native of the Chaotic Blood World, a vampire, and you also have the political claim of being a princess.”

Ron explained, “Your appointment as the first chairman will dispel any doubts other factions have about ‘wizard rule’.”

"Moreover, I have witnessed your competence and loyalty over the past few decades."

"No one is more suitable for this position than you."

Euphemia opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end she only bowed deeply: "Thank you for your trust."

"What about the military aspect?" Miller asked.

“The Federal Army.” Ron pointed to a page in the draft:
"Integrate the military forces of all member factions to form a unified 'Federal Army'."

"Command of the military rests with the 'Joint Staff,' which is composed of generals dispatched by various factions."

"Daily training and logistics are centrally managed by the Federation, but each member state retains a certain size of 'local guard' for homeland defense."

“That sounds complicated.” Miller scratched his head.

“Complexity is normal.” Ron nodded. “This is a political structure involving the interests of multiple parties; it can’t be simple.”

"But as long as the core principles are clear—Twilight City takes the lead, all parties participate, and benefits are shared—the specific details can be worked out gradually."

The meeting lasted for a full four hours, with each clause being discussed, revised, and improved repeatedly.

Ultimately, a relatively mature draft of the Federal Charter was finalized.

“Then…” Ron stood up and looked around at everyone:
"Next, we need to persuade the reformers and the industrial alliance."

His gaze drifted out the window to the sky still shrouded in twilight.

"This may take some time."

"But I believe they will ultimately make the right choice."

………………

The cleanup of the square was finally completed in the second month after the war.

The rubble was cleared, the ground was repaved, and a temporary fence was erected around the entire area.

Inside the fence, a group of craftsmen are busy at work.

Some of them were humans, some were vampires, and there were even a few dwarves brought in from Gray Tower Town.

In the center of the construction site, a scaffolding rose from the ground.

On the scaffolding, the main structure of the new sculpture is already taking shape.

Three giants, symbolizing racial unity, are being pieced together piece by piece.

Compared to the original design, the new sculpture is larger and more detailed.

The giants' facial expressions were no longer those of a cold, indifferent gaze; their expressions now carried a certain compassion—their heads were bowed, gazing at the hands that were supporting them at their feet.

And at the base... Toby, leaning on his cane, stood outside the fence, holding flowers in his other hand.

He had been standing here for a long time, so long that his legs were starting to go numb.

"Toby."

A voice came from the side.

He turned his head and saw Liz walking towards him.

Liz was one of Ron's elite team members back then, and is now the deputy director of the Twilight City Potion Research Institute.

She still had those small bottles filled with plant extracts hanging from her waist, and her golden hair shimmered in the twilight.

"Director Liz," Toby greeted her somewhat awkwardly.

"Don't be so nervous."

Liz walked to his side, her gaze also falling on the sculpture under construction:
"To see where Muller is?"

Toby nodded, his voice somewhat low:

“They said… the third tier of the base, the forty-seventh from the left.”

"It will be installed tomorrow."

Liz didn't say anything, but simply reached out and gently patted the other person's shoulder.

………………

After the initial unveiling ceremony of the sculpture, Ron received El-Erian in the reception room, who had come on behalf of his father, Savile.

The young leader of the reformist faction was thinner than when he had visited before, with sunken eyes and a somewhat unkempt beard.

Clearly, he has been under a lot of pressure during this period.

"Your Excellency Ralph."

Elian bowed slightly, his posture respectful yet dignified:

"Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with me."

"Sit down," Ron gestured for him to sit. "Tea or wine?"

"Tea is fine."

Elian sat down on the sofa and took the teacup that Ivy handed him:
"To be honest, I came here with the official authorization of the Reformist Parliament."

He took a document from his pocket: "Regarding your proposed 'federal' concept... we agree in principle to join."

Ron raised an eyebrow: "In principle?"

“There are some details that need to be discussed.” El-Erian’s expression turned serious.
"For example, the allocation of parliamentary seats, the division of military command, and the guarantee of financial independence..."

"These are all issues that involve the core interests of the reformists."

"My mandate is to fight for the best interests of the reformers on these issues."

Ron nodded, not surprised.

Political maneuvering has always been like this.

Even when joining an alliance, each party will bargain for its own interests.

This is normal, even healthy; a completely undisputed alliance is more suspicious.

“Tell me your demands.”

“First, parliamentary seats.” El-Erian held up one finger:
"The reformers hope to gain half of the seats in Twilight City."

"After all, we represent more than 40% of the vampire population in the chaotic world, so this demand is not excessive."

"I can consider it."

Ron nodded: "But voting weight needs to be calculated based on overall strength, not just the number of seats."

El-Erian frowned, but nodded in agreement: "It's negotiable."

"Second, military command." He held up his second finger:
"The reformist army can join the Federation, but command on the reformist side must be held by a general from the reformist faction."

"Our soldiers cannot be handed over to outsiders who do not understand them."

“That’s the problem.” Ron shook his head.
"Command of the Federal Army must be unified and cannot be divided according to origin."

"But this is possible—in the Joint Chiefs of Staff, reformers can have a fixed proportion of seats."

"Daily training and tactical planning are jointly decided by the General Staff."

"In actual combat, the General Staff shall appoint the most suitable commander, regardless of his or her background."

El-Erian pondered for a moment: "This plan... I need to go back and discuss it with the council."

"Third, fiscal independence." He held up his third finger:
"The reformers want to retain their own tax system and fiscal system, with federal funding to be shared proportionally, but not directly taxed."

"This is the bottom line."

Ron did not answer immediately.

Finance is at the heart of politics.

A power without fiscal autonomy is essentially just a vassal.

El-Erian's demands were essentially aimed at securing the status of "major members of the Federation" rather than "subordinate forces" for the reformers.

“Okay,” Ron finally nodded, “but on one condition.”

"What conditions?"

"The Federation has the right to temporarily requisition resources, including financial resources, from its member states during a state of emergency."

"Of course, it will definitely be returned or compensated afterwards."

El-Erian's eyes narrowed.

This clause, while seemingly reasonable, leaves the federal government with a loophole for a "state of emergency".

If it is misused...

“What is the definition of ‘state of emergency’?” he asked cautiously.

"Situations that could threaten the overall security of the Federation, such as foreign invasion, large-scale rebellion, and natural disasters."

Ron listed the specific standards one by one, saying that "the specific standards will be written into the charter and implemented under the supervision of Parliament."

"It will not be abused."

Elian pondered for a moment, then finally nodded:
"If these clauses can be written into the charter... the reformers can accept it."

As negotiations progressed, every clause and detail was repeatedly discussed, revised, and debated.

Ultimately, the two sides reached a preliminary agreement.

"Pleasant to work with."

When the agreement was signed, El-Erian extended his hand.

"Pleasant to work with."

Ron shook hands with him.

At this moment, the political landscape of the chaotic world officially began to change.

………………

After the negotiations with the reformers concluded, Ron immediately embarked on his visit.

Our first stop is Grey Tower Town.

Gaetano's private residence and workshop were not located together.

It sits on a hillside on the outskirts of Grey Tower, surrounded by lush vineyards.

It is said that those grapes were cultivated from seeds brought by dwarves from a distant plane, and the wine made from them has a unique "fire" aroma.

"Yo—Ralph!"

The dwarf wizard still looked as disheveled as ever, with wine stains on his fiery red beard and a wine barrel in his arms.

"Congratulations! I heard you've founded a country?"

"It's just a federation, not a real country yet."

Ron sat down opposite him: "However, it is indeed moving in that direction."

“The Federation…hey.” Gaetano shook the barrel:

"This name is quite interesting; it reminds me of some political entities in the tech world."

He poured Ron a glass of wine:

"Speak, what brings you to this old man like me?"

Ron took the glass, but didn't drink it:
"Grey Tower Academy has remained neutral in this war."

"I'd like to know, what will your stance be in the future?"

Gaetano raised an eyebrow: "Are you testing this old man?"

"Just asking."

Ron shook his head, his attitude sincere: "Grey Tower Town's position is very important."

"Before our arrival, it was the only official wizard stronghold in the Chaotic Blood World, and also the bridge connecting to the main world."

"If Grey Tower Town is willing to cooperate with the Federation, many things will become much easier."

"Cooperation..." The dwarf took a sip of his wine. "This old man has no interest in politics."

"Grey Tower Town was neutral in the past, and it will remain neutral in the future."

“However…” He looked at Ron and shook the barrel:

“If it’s under the guise of ‘academic exchange’ and ‘technical cooperation’, I, the old man, might consider it.”

"After all, the technologies of your Twilight City are indeed interesting."

“Especially that ‘undying killer’…hasn’t it always been me and Edwin who’s been pushing things forward?”

Ron laughed. What he said was true; Gray Tower Town could be considered half of their own territory.

He nodded and stood up: "Then I'll take my leave. A political officer will be in charge of liaison with us next."

"Wait, you haven't drunk your wine yet!"

Gaetano pointed to the untouched glass of wine on the table: "Don't waste the old man's treasure!"

Ron glanced at the glass of wine, then finally picked it up and drank it all in one gulp.

"Good wine."

He put down his cup and turned to leave.

After leaving Grey Tower Town, the next stop is Gear City of the Industrial Alliance.

"Lord Ralph."

Howard, the highest-ranking official of Gear City, personally went to the city gate to greet them.

"Welcome to the heart of the Industrial Alliance."

He wore a standard politician's smile, but his eyes revealed shrewdness.

"Governor Howard".

Ron nodded in acknowledgment: "Sorry to bother you."

“Not at all.” Howard gestured invitingly.

"It is an honor for the Industrial Alliance to have the leader of Twilight City visit in person."

"Please, this way."

The industrial alliance was even more enthusiastic than the reformers.

This is not surprising.

After the destruction of the three major clans, the Industrial Alliance, which was originally relatively "detached," suddenly found itself caught between two powerful forces.

To the north lies the Federation, dominated by Twilight City, while to the south lies the traditional vampire forces, still eyeing the region covetously.

They needed to choose sides, and Twilight City was clearly the better choice.

The negotiations went very smoothly.

The Industrial Alliance agreed to formally join the Federation as a “member.”

They need to provide sufficient resources to support the federal government, but they will not assume military obligations.

In exchange, the Federation will grant the Industrial Alliance certain trade preferences and open up more technology cooperation projects.

"It's a pleasure working with you." Howard's smile was even more genuine than before.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” Ron shook hands with him.

As he walked out of the conference room, Miller followed behind him, lowering his voice:
“These people… are much easier to deal with than the reformers.”

"Because they are more pragmatic, the reformers will still insist on matters of principle, after all, they are a union of clan forces."

"Industrial alliances are more loosely structured, so they only care about interests. If you give them enough benefits, everything is negotiable."

"Is such an ally...reliable?"

“Unreliable.” Ron said calmly, “Friendships based on mutual benefit will dissolve when the benefit is gone.”

"But at least for now, our interests are aligned."

"Let's talk about it when the conflict of interest arises..."

Miller shook his head and said nothing more. (End of Chapter)