Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Next, we'll visit Hilda, which is also the last and most important stop on this trip.

The intelligence provided by Hilda was one of the key factors that enabled Twilight City to achieve victory.

Without those incredibly detailed military deployment data, the course of the war might have been completely different.

"The territory of the Eye Clan."

Miller had warned him before he set off: "It is the most mysterious place among the thirteen clans."

"It is said that the terrain there is extremely complex, full of illusions and mazes."

"Without Hilda's permission, no outsider can enter."

“What’s even stranger is that Hilda’s own residence is said to be very simple.”

"How simple?"

"It is said that... there are very few servants."

Miller's words piqued Ron's curiosity.

A vampire duke who has lived for eight thousand years and is the most senior among the thirteen clans actually lives a "simple" life?

This stands in stark contrast to the extravagant lifestyle of other grand dukes.

As the delegation arrived at the border of the Eye Clan's territory, a soft light shone down from the sky.

"Lord Ron Ralph"

A female voice rang out: "Welcome to the Eye's Territory."

"Please follow the guiding light; justice awaits you."

The mission proceeded along the path guided by the light.

The surrounding scenery kept changing—sometimes a deep forest, sometimes a vast grassland, sometimes towering mountains…

Every part is beautiful, yet it exudes an indescribable eeriness.

"These are all illusions."

Silas whispered beside him, "The real terrain is completely hidden."

"With my mental perception, I have no way of knowing where we are."

Of course, this illusion was practically useless against Ron.

But out of respect for the place's inhabitants, he cooperated and was guided forward.

After traveling for about half an hour, the surrounding scenery suddenly became clear.

Here lies a rolling hill, deep within which sits a seemingly unremarkable manor.

Ron arrived at the manor gate and looked at the mottled wooden door in front of him.

Most of the paint on the door has peeled off, revealing the grayish-brown wood underneath.

As if sensing the movement, the wooden door creaked open by itself.

A hunchbacked old servant appeared behind the door.

The old servant wore a faded dark robe, and the wrinkles on his face were so deep they looked as if they had been carved with a knife.

His eyes were cloudy, his movements were slow, and he looked like he could collapse at any moment.

"Distinguished guests, please... please follow me..."

The old servant turned around shakily and led Ron and the others deeper into the manor.

Along the way, Ron silently observed his surroundings.

The manor is not large, covering only about one-tenth the size of the "Dawn Tower" in Twilight City.

The yard was overgrown with weeds, and it looked like it hadn't been trimmed in a long time.

Several old trees stood crookedly in the corner of the wall, their branches and leaves sparse, appearing weak and listless.

"here……"

Ivy, who was traveling with them, couldn't help but ask, "Does Ms. Hilda live alone?"

"Yes," the old servant replied succinctly, "The Duke dislikes crowds."

"Where is the servant?"

"There is only this old servant."

"The Grand Duke said that too many people would cause trouble."

"We've arrived." The old servant stopped in front of a door and gently knocked.
"Your Excellency, your guests have arrived."

"Please come in, Your Excellency Ralph."

A hoarse female voice came from inside the room, barely audible.

Hearing that Hilda only allowed Ron to enter, the others tactfully remained seated in the main hall.

The old servant brewed tea for everyone and then led Ron into the innermost room.

Ron stepped across the threshold, his gaze sweeping across the dimly lit room, and he was momentarily stunned.

In the center of the room stood a simple recliner, with a thin, bony figure leaning against it.

The figure was less a "person" and more a skeleton that had just crawled out of its grave.

His skin was withered and shriveled, clinging tightly to his bones, with almost no fleshy feel.

His hair was gray and sparse, hanging messily over his shoulders like withered grass.

His face was covered with deep wrinkles, as deep as a plowed field.

"Hilda... Your Excellency?"

He had met Hilda in Parliament.

At that time, the Grand Duke of the Eye Clan looked to be only sixteen or seventeen years old, with a petite figure and a beautiful face.

Although her voice was hoarse like an old woman's, she looked like a young girl.

But the woman in front of me is clearly an old woman in her seventies or eighties, nearing the end of her life!

"Surprised?" Hilda gave a wry smile. "I really don't look very good now."

She raised a hand, a hand as withered and thin as a chicken claw: "This is the price of betraying that person."

Ron frowned. "You mean... Aiden?"

“Yes.” Hilda nodded. “When I secretly delivered the message to you, He hadn’t fully awakened yet…”

"But the curse is always conscious."

She closed her eyes, her voice growing weaker: "At that moment, the curse in my bloodline erupted."

"Eight thousand years of accumulation were mostly drained away overnight."

"If it weren't for my special constitution, I would probably have turned to ashes long ago."

Ron remained silent.

Hilda's help to Twilight City may not be solely driven by self-interest, but rather by a gamble—a high-stakes bet on her entire fortune.

Why would you take such a big risk?

He voiced the question that had been on his mind.

Hilda did not answer immediately.

She simply opened her eyes, her grey pupils silently gazing at the black-robed wizard before her:
"Young man, do you know what it feels like to have lived for eight thousand years?"

Ron shook his head.

"It's so boring."

Hilda sighed:
"I've seen too many sunrises and sunsets, and witnessed too many partings and deaths."

Things that were once considered important have become unimportant over time.

"Relationships that were once thought to be incredibly strong eventually turned to dust."

"Friends, enemies, lovers, relatives... all are dead."

"Only the old woman was left, living all alone."

Her gaze became distant, as if piercing through the mists of time:
Do you know why I live in such a humble place?

"Because it doesn't make sense."

"Whether I live in a palace or a hut, it's all the same to me."

"Anyway, I can only watch them rot, collapse, and disappear little by little."

“But…” Hilda’s voice suddenly changed, becoming unusually fervent:
"Your appearance has shown me something different."

She looked Ron straight into his eyes: "You have the potential to end that nightmare."

“Aidan,” Ron said the name.

“That’s right.” Hilda nodded.

“I have lived for eight thousand years, and for more than seven thousand of those years I have lived a life of mere survival in His shadow.”

"You can't even imagine that feeling."

“Every day I wake up, I worry that I might suddenly go crazy.”

"With every breath, I can feel the curse flowing through my veins."

“I’ve had enough, so I’ve decided to take a gamble.”

"I'm betting on your success, and on that I'll live to see that monster completely destroyed."

A brief silence fell over the room.

Outside the window, the eternal twilight still shrouds the earth.

Looking at the aged Grand Duchess before him, Ron was filled with mixed emotions.

Eight thousand years, what does that even mean?
Human civilization on Earth, from the earliest city-states to modern society, has only existed for a few thousand years.

This vampire endured those long years alone, amidst curses and fear.

"Lady Hilda."

Ron took out a wooden box: "This is a potion I specially concocted for vampires."

"While it cannot completely cure the damage caused by the curse, it can at least alleviate your current weakness."

Hilda looked at the wooden box with some surprise.

"You...brought potions with you specifically?"

"I heard before I came that you were not in good health."

Ron opened the wooden box, inside which were three bottles of potions of different colors neatly arranged:
"This is an enhanced version of the 'Bloodline Stabilizer,' used in conjunction with 'Vitality Essence' and 'Soul Soothing Liquid.'"

"In theory, a considerable amount of vital energy can be restored in a short period of time."

He handed the wooden box to Hilda:
"please."

Hilda looked at him, and a light suddenly shone in her cloudy eyes.

It was an extremely complex emotion—gratitude, relief, and a touch of heartache.

"Thank you." She reached out her withered hand and took the wooden box.

"I haven't received a gift in a long time."

After saying that, she unswerved the potion without hesitation, tilted her head back, and drank it down.

Then came the second bottle, and the third bottle.

After the three bottles of medicine were ingested, miraculous changes began to occur.

Hilda's sallow skin began to regain its luster at a visible rate.

Those deep wrinkles seemed to be smoothed out by an invisible hand, fading away little by little.

Her straw-like hair regained its softness and elasticity, and her entire figure changed—from hunched over to upright, from withered to plump.

In less than a minute, the old woman who looked like she was about to die appeared to have become noticeably younger.

Although she hasn't returned to her youthful prime, at least she no longer looks so frail.

Ron watched this scene and couldn't help but marvel.

"This……"

His tone held a hint of amazement: "Your constitution is truly exceptional."

"Many extraordinary races have bodies that change depending on their magical state."

Hilda flexed her wrists:
"When magic is abundant, one can maintain a youthful appearance."

"When magic power declines, one ages rapidly."

She stood up and walked a few steps around the room:

"However, it is indeed rare to see someone like me... whose changes are so drastic."

Ron nodded, but another person came to mind.

Alan Meredith—his mentor.

The old woman was the same; when her magic was abundant, she could maintain her youthful appearance, but once it declined, she would age rapidly.

"All right."

Hilda walked to the window and pushed open the somewhat dilapidated window:
"You came all this way not just to deliver medicine, right?"

Ron snapped out of his thoughts and said seriously:

"There are indeed some things I would like to ask you in person."

"Please speak."

"Regarding the post-war distribution of power..."

He organized his thoughts:

"The three dukes have fallen, and their territories are currently in a power vacuum."

"I intend to take this opportunity to incorporate part of my territory into the map of Twilight City."

"What suggestions do you have, sir?"

Hilda turned around, a glint of light flashing in her eyes.

Which territories do you want?

“All of them,” Ron said bluntly.

The Grand Duchess was silent for a moment, then shook her head.

"I can only say that I don't recommend you do that."

"why?"

"Being too greedy will make you choke."

She walked to a simple wooden table and took a map from a drawer:
“Look… the territory of the Ya Clan borders Twilight City, which is geographically convenient for management. We can consider taking over it.”

"But the territories of the Claw Clan and the Wing Clan..."

Her finger stopped at two other locations on the map:

"One is deep in the north, and the other is on the western plateau."

"Since it is not adjacent to Twilight City and is very far away, forcibly annexing it would be very costly to govern."

Ron frowned. "So what's your suggestion?"

“Supporting puppets.” Hilda’s tone was indifferent:
“Select a few obedient marquises from the remnants of those two clans and support them to take the throne.”

"Let them be independent in name, but in reality, they will be loyal to you."

"This way, we can control the situation without having to bear the pressure of governance."

Ron pondered for a moment.

This suggestion makes sense.

While a direct takeover would be satisfying, the subsequent governance issues would be extremely difficult to resolve.

The vampires in those territories may not necessarily obey the rule of Twilight City, and resistance and unrest are inevitable.

In contrast, while supporting a puppet may offer slightly less control, it can avoid most of the trouble.

“Then…” He looked at Hilda: “Are you interested in these two territories?” Hilda was slightly taken aback, then smiled knowingly.

"You want me, this old woman, to be this 'puppet'?"

“Not a puppet.” Ron shook his head. “He’s a partner.”

"The Eye Clan helps Twilight City manage those two territories, and in return, we can provide support in terms of technology, resources, and military affairs."

He thought for a moment, then added:
"Of course, the specific distribution of benefits can be discussed gradually."

Hilda did not answer immediately.

She looked down at the map, her fingers tapping lightly on the two territories.

After a long while, she raised her head.

"I can consider it."

Her tone held a hint of amusement: "But before we talk about that..."

“I have something else to say.”

"please say."

"It's about the Heart Clan."

Hilda's expression turned serious:

“Old lady Arcadito, I have a message for you—he is willing to come to your door in person to apologize.”

Ron raised an eyebrow slightly: "Apologize? What does he have to apologize for?"

“It’s not a crime to remain neutral in war; we never expected anything from him anyway.”

“Young man, you can’t say that,” Hilda sighed.

“Alcadi is a man who…though he is somewhat shrewd, he is not a bad person at heart.”

"His neutrality was also for the sake of the survival of the Heart Clan."

"You should know that those three grand dukes you killed were no pushovers."

“If the Alcadi clearly side with you, the Heart Clan will likely become their target as well.”

"And..." she spread her hands:

"Supporting you might mean facing Aiden's 'punishment' just like me."

Unlike me, he doesn't have such deep reserves of power; if he were to withstand even a single curse, he'd probably go half-mad.

Ron didn't say anything; he certainly understood the reasoning.

From Alcadi's perspective, remaining neutral is indeed the most rational choice.

But as rational as I am, I still feel uneasy.

“For your sake…” he finally said, “I can see him.”

"But there's a condition."

Hilda's eyes lit up: "What are the conditions?"

“Red Hook,” Ron uttered.

Hilda was stunned.

"You mean... the Heart Clan's sacred artifact?"

“That’s right.” Ron nodded.
“I am very interested in the properties of that holy artifact. If Arcadi wants to participate in the post-war resource distribution, he can exchange it for the Red Hook.”

“When Alex attacked Twilight City with his counterfeit, disposable ‘Red Hook’ weapons, I fought a fierce battle against him.”

"The effects of that replica—suppressing madness and accelerating self-healing—left a deep impression on me."

"If we could study real red hooks, we might gain some inspiration from them."

"It will be helpful for improving the blending potion, and even for fundamental research into the vampire curse..."

Hilda remained silent.

She certainly understood the value of the red hook.

That sacred artifact is said to have been crafted by Selna herself, containing the power and will of the pioneers of the Chaotic Blood World.

It was because of the Red Hook that the Heart Clan was able to occupy the most important position among the thirteen clans.

The condition of demanding that Alcadi hand over the Red Hook is extremely harsh.

"I will convey your terms to him."

Hilda concluded, "Whether he's willing to accept it or not is up to him to decide."

………………

Three days later, in the reception room of Twilight City.

Al-Kadhir Valentine sat upright on the sofa, his expression indescribably conflicted.

He wore a simple dark suit and no accessories that would highlight his status.

This is a gesture to show that he came as a "repentant" rather than a "prince".

"Your Excellency Ralph."

He spoke first, his voice filled with sincere apology:
"First of all, please allow me to apologize for my previous attitude."

“During the war, I chose neutrality.”

"Although there were difficulties, we really didn't lend a helping hand at the critical moment."

"This is entirely our fault, no matter what."

After he finished speaking, he stood up and bowed deeply to Ron.

Ron didn't respond immediately, but just looked at him quietly.

After a moment, he spoke: "Your Excellency Arcadi, please have a seat."

His tone was neither warm nor cold, nor was it particularly enthusiastic, but he wasn't deliberately making things difficult either: "I received your apology."

"As for whether or not to forgive..." He picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and said, "That depends on your sincerity going forward."

Alkadi sat down again, his expression growing increasingly serious.

He certainly knew what Ron meant by "sincerity".

The Red Hook, the foundation of the Heart Clan, is a treasure passed down for thousands of years.

He needs to hand over this item...

"Your Excellency Ralph."

Arkadi carefully chose his words: "Regarding the Red Hook, I am willing to cooperate."

"However, there are a few conditions that I hope you can consider."

Ron raised an eyebrow: "Speak."

“First, the red hook can only be borrowed, not transferred.” Alcadi held up one finger:
"The loan period needs to be strictly planned, and the items must be returned to the Heart Clan after use."

"Secondly, when you use the red hook for research, you need someone from our Heart Clan to be present to supervise."

He held up a second finger: "This is to ensure that the sacred artifacts are not damaged or misused."

After hearing the two conditions, Ron fell into deep thought.

To be fair, these conditions are not excessive.

The Red Hook is, after all, a family heirloom of the Heart Clan, and Alcadi's willingness to lend it out is already the biggest concession he could make.

Demanding a planning period and oversight of its use are reasonable requests.

"Okay." He nodded. "I accept both conditions."

"However, I also have one request."

“Please speak,” Alkadi replied quickly.

"I will keep Red Hook in my hands for at least thirty years."

Ron did some thinking:
"If the time is too short, the research cannot be carried out in depth, and there is no point in borrowing it."

"Thirty years..."

Alcadi frowned slightly, clearly weighing the pros and cons.

Thirty years is nothing to vampires, and for a serious academic study, it's barely enough time.

"it is good."

He finally nodded: "Thirty years it is."

"If you need to continue lending after this deadline, we will need to renegotiate the plan."

“No problem.” Ron stood up and extended his hand. “Then it’s settled.”

Arkadi also stood up and shook hands with him: "It's a pleasure working with you."

Their hands clasped together in the air, the force just right, each with their own thoughts.

………………

The second year after the establishment of the Twilight Federation.

Ron stood on the top floor of the Dawn Tower, gazing down at the city that was gradually coming back to life.

The wounds of war are healing.

The buildings that were once destroyed by the Blood Energy Cannon have now been replaced by brand new buildings;

The port, destroyed by Leviathan's tentacles, is once again filled with the whistles of cargo ships;
Although the rift that tore the sea apart has not yet fully healed, it has been cleverly transformed by engineers into a natural deep-water channel.

The Federation's flag flew in every corner of the city—on a deep purple background, three overlapping rings were embroidered, representing the union of vampires, humans, and wizards.

"Owner."

Ivy's voice came from behind:

"Today's meeting is adjourned; all proposals have been approved."

"Is there anything else that requires your personal attention?"

Ron did not answer immediately.

His gaze fell on the ring in his hand.

This ring has a special function: when the wearer misses someone, the ring will feel slightly warm.

At this moment, that warmth is spreading from the base of my fingers to my palm.

Eve has been thinking about him for two years.

Since the founding of the Federation, he has hardly left the chaotic world.

Countless political affairs, negotiations, research, mediation... every day is filled with various tasks.

The burden on his shoulders was too heavy for him to easily put down.

"Owner?"

Ivy noticed his silence and her tone carried a hint of worry.

“Ivy,” Ron finally spoke.
"Could you check for me how many years have passed in the main world in the past two years in the Chaotic Blood World?"

“About eight or nine months,” Ivy answered without hesitation.

For a wizard, eight or nine months is but a breath in a long life.

But for couples who are forced to separate shortly after their marriage...

During their final farewell, she forced back her tears and uttered the words: "Come back soon."

Ron looked down at the ring that was still heating up.

  "Make the arrangements, I need to return to the main world."

He turned around, and the weariness on his face vanished instantly.

“Take care of the tasks you can handle now, and hand over the rest to Euphemia.”

Three days later, at the teleportation platform of the Rainbow Gate.

The light curtain unfolded in the air, radiating a gentle magical fluctuation.

Ron stood at the edge of the platform.

"Ralph, go back soon."

Miller, unusually, didn't bring his flask: "We'll handle things here."

"Don't worry about us, worry about yourself."

He rubbed his chin: "I heard that His Highness has a bad temper?"

Who told you that?

“…Cecilia.”

Ron glanced helplessly at the silver-haired maid standing beside him.

“I’m just stating the facts,” Cecilia argued confidently. “His Highness is indeed very strict.”

Did you say anything else?

“…I say, sir, you are much easier to talk to than His Highness.”

Ron was silent for two seconds.

"I think you want me to put in a good word for you with Eve, and you don't want to go back so soon?"

Cecilia's eyes lit up: "My lord is wise!"

"Dream on."

He refused without hesitation: "If Eve wants you to go back, I won't interfere with her decision."

"Master, how could you do this..." The maid's expression fell.

"gone."

He turned and stepped into the light screen. When his vision became clear again, a familiar scene came into view.

This is the teleportation hall of the ancestral land of the Wangguan clan.

The magic crystal lamps on the dome emitted a soft glow, and the reliefs on the walls remained lifelike.

A faint scent of ambergris permeated the air.

That was Eve's favorite incense, and Ron felt much more relaxed.

"Owner!"

A familiar figure strode quickly from the end of the corridor.

Flowers bloomed in the tree spirit's hair, and her eyes were filled with surprise: "You're finally back!"

“Ailan.” Ron nodded with a smile. “Long time no see.”

"Yes, it's been a long time..."

Ailan sighed: "His Highness has been waiting for you, checking every day for any news from over there."

"every day?"

“Every day.” Ailan nodded emphatically. “Sometimes I check the communication crystal several times a day.”

Ron felt a pang of guilt. "Where is she now?"

"The gazebo in the back garden has been waiting there since this morning."

"Wait?"

"Yes, His Highness said..."

Ailan raised her chin, mimicking Eve's tone:
“I already knew it; my mentor would definitely be back today.”

Ron raised an eyebrow.

Eve doesn't know how to tell fortunes; did she ask Chloe beforehand...?

But have you been waiting since morning?

Doesn't that mean we've been waiting for almost half a day? (End of Chapter)