Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

The light and shadow in the void swept backward like flowing water.

The white-robed witch king led Ian through dimensional barriers, each with a completely different density of rules.

In some dimensions, time flows significantly faster, while in others it is almost still. In some dimensions, space is folded into countless layers, while in others it is stretched to be almost infinitely thin.

This was the first time Ian had perceived the multi-dimensional structure of the void in such a direct way.

But at this moment, all his attention was focused on that sentence.

The white-robed witch king did not stop, maintaining a steady pace as he traversed dimensions, as if the question he had just asked was nothing out of the ordinary.

But Ian knew that this problem had been like a sword hanging over his head ever since the first day he arrived in the wizarding world.

He had been carefully hiding and trying to avoid it in various ways, but in the end, the sword still fell.

Moreover, this was in the presence of the oldest being in the wizarding civilization.

Within the soul's essence, a dull pain emanated from the deepest crack, as if reminding Ian that his time was running out and he had to provide an answer.

Ian raised his head and looked at the back of the white-robed witch king.

The old man wore a plain white robe, the texture of which was neither like fabric nor like condensed energy, but rather like a solidified concept of "pure white".

His pace remained unhurried, and with each step he took, a dimensional portal automatically formed in the void beneath his feet, leading to the next leg of his journey.

The entire process was smooth and seamless, without any unnecessary fluctuations in the rules.

Like an old man taking a walk in his own yard, he knows the location of every stone step even with his eyes closed.

"Witch King," Ian's voice was hoarse, a slight stinging pain returning to his wounded soul.

"If I said I didn't know how I did it, would you believe me?"

The white-robed witch king did not respond immediately, but led Ian through a special dimensional portal.

This door was heavier than any of the previous ones, with densely engraved orderly inscriptions on its frame.

It was all written in a script system that Ian couldn't understand at all, and it was older than any runes used by the wizarding civilization.

Each character emitted a faint white light, the light not dazzling, yet impossible to look directly at.

The moment Ian stepped through the door, he felt his soul being swept by an extremely gentle force.

This force did not invade the core of his soul, but merely brushed lightly across the surface, as if it were "reading" some information.

The white-robed witch king spoke.

"We just passed through the 'Gate of Truth,' which is the only passage between my world and the outside world, and also the first line of defense that I personally set up."

Anyone who passes through this door will have three characteristics recorded by it.

Form of existence, inclination of the soul, depth of cause and effect.

"Your form of existence is that of a pure human being, without any trace of bloodline contamination, soul modification, or body replacement. Your human identity is real, from your physical body to your soul."

"Your soul is inclined toward order, not through acquired cultivation of an affinity for order, but because your soul is inherently inclined toward order."

This degree of spiritual inclination is very similar to the primordial life born from the origin of order.

But Ian is not the original life form. His soul has a clear growth trajectory, with the sedimentation of childhood memories and the folds of rules formed by later learning. He has experienced the growth process of an ordinary person.

"Furthermore, you have very few causal threads." The white-robed witch king paused, "So few that it defies common sense."

Ian's heart skipped a beat, which was likely due to the panel.

"A wizard who can cultivate to the fifth level of Radiant Moon should have a causal chain like a tree rooted in the void, with its roots extending into countless worlds, countless civilizations, and countless events."

"Every battle, every transaction, every breakthrough he makes leaves a causal trace in the void. The deeper the causal trace, the closer his connection with this void."

"But your causal connections are too few."

The white-robed witch king finally stopped and turned to look at Ian.

"I just traced back the fate of the entire Void. Your causal record in the Wizarding World can only be traced back to twenty years ago. After that, everything about you is very vague."

Ian was horrified. Rewinding to the void of fate? What kind of method was this?

The white-robed witch king did not urge him.

He stood there, his hands hanging at his sides, the surrounding void light gliding past him without a trace touching his white robe.

After a long silence, Ian slowly spoke.

"Witch King, when I was sixteen, I had a very vivid dream about going to a strange place."

Ian's eyes were filled with complex emotions, as memories of the past surfaced.

"That world is very small, so small that the entire civilization is trapped on a planet. Even the nearest satellite can only send a few people to set foot there. The people there do not cultivate rules or refine their souls. Instead, they have developed a system called 'technology' to extend their power with tools and replace their own hands with machines. I am just an ordinary person in that world."

"When I woke up, I realized I remembered everything from the dream, and then I learned everything very quickly..."

After listening, the white-robed witch king remained silent for a moment.

It's not uncommon to dream of visiting a strange world and then gain enlightenment.

His eyes gleamed, as if he were deducing something.

This is theoretically possible. At that time, Ian's soul had not yet been marked by rules, and was like a blank sheet of paper. Under certain conditions, it could be swept away by dimensional turbulence and randomly enter other worlds.

"Your situation is very special; I've only seen it a few times."

Ian was shocked again. There were others in similar situations. Indeed, in this vast void, nothing is impossible.

A surge of joy welled up inside him. Since he wasn't the first, he wasn't special. He should be... alright, right?

Ignoring Ian's changing expression, the white-robed Witch King continued, "Although I have lived a few years longer than you, this void still holds countless mysteries."

While the probability of Ian having such a serendipitous encounter is extremely small, it's not impossible.

The true nature of that light of order may not even be fully understood by himself.

"Although there are still some things that are not clear, what is certain is that you are not a pawn of some ancient existence, not an undercover agent of the will of the abyss, nor a disguised Void alien."

The white-robed witch king's voice carried a faint hint of amusement.

"You're a lucky kid, your soul has an inclination towards order, and you just happened to encounter the light of order in the void."

"...That's about it, Witch King." Ian nodded quickly.

The white-robed witch king looked at him and suddenly smiled.

This was the first time Ian had seen the other person's upturned lips; there was something indescribable about them.

The white-robed witch king offered no explanation; if Ian was the reincarnation of some ancient being, he would investigate the cause and effect behind him.

If it's the work of the Abyss, he will seal or erase Ian; if it's the work of other civilizations, he will trace Ian back to his mother civilization.

But Ian was just an ordinary person who got lucky, so although he was somewhat disappointed, it was still an acceptable answer.

The white-robed witch king resumed his steps, leading Ian forward.

"I have taken on three disciples," he said calmly.

"The first one was someone I recruited when the wizarding civilization was first established. He was a genius, and his understanding of the rules of order even surpassed mine."

"Later, he did indeed become the Wizard Emperor, and then died in the First War of the Abyss."

In the first war with the Abyss, the wizard civilization was far less powerful than it is now and suffered a great loss.

"The second one was someone I encountered while traveling in the depths of the void. She was a primordial life form that was born with order and rules, as pure as an uncarved crystal."

"I taught her for ten thousand years. She absorbed all my understanding of order and forged her own path. Although she did not become the Witch Emperor, she established her own land of order on the other side of the void."

"The third one is what I acquired after the Abyss War ended."

At this point, a trace of melancholy appeared in the eyes of the white-robed witch king. At this moment, he looked just like an ordinary old man.

"He is not as talented as the first one, nor as pure as the second one, but he has a quality that neither of the two of them had: he is extremely stubborn, and once he has decided on a path, he will definitely see it through to the end."

"I taught him for a thousand years, and then he died, not on the battlefield, but in his cultivation. He tried to completely replace the order with his own true spirit, which caused the true spirit to collapse."

The white-robed witch king stopped in his tracks at this point.

Ahead, another door is slowly opening.

But this time the door is different from the previous Gate of Truth. It no longer only has inscriptions of order, but also many patterns.

Ian vaguely saw that the pattern depicted a towering tree, with an old man in white robes standing beneath it, surrounded by three blurry figures.

"I haven't been very lucky with taking on disciples," the white-robed witch king said calmly.

"This time, I don't intend to accept you as my personal disciple."

Ian's heart sank, but then he felt that it made sense. Why should the Wizard Emperor make an exception and accept him as a personal disciple when he was just a lowly fifth-level Radiant Moon?

"I plan to take you as a disciple on a nominal basis first."

The white-robed witch king's next words brought Ian to a sudden halt.

This was the Alliance's reward for him; he sacrificed himself to fight the Abyss, paying a heavy price for his soul, and finally reaped the reward.

In the wizarding civilization's inheritance system, a disciple who is nominally a disciple is also qualified to receive instruction from a teacher, but cannot inherit that teacher's legacy.

"Outside, you cannot directly proclaim my name, nor do you enjoy all the rights of a direct disciple, but you can learn everything I teach, at least not now."

"If you meet my requirements during the observation period, I will formally accept you as my personal disciple."

"If you don't reach that level, you can still keep everything you've learned from me, but we will no longer have the master-disciple relationship."

The white-robed witch king looked at Ian: "Do you accept this arrangement?"

Without hesitation, Ian bowed deeply and said, "Teacher, I accept."

He had no reason not to accept; although a disciple in name only was not as good as a direct disciple, he was still a disciple of the Wizard Emperor.

In the entire wizarding civilization, how many people can stand before a wizard king and receive his personal instruction?

Moreover, the conditions offered by the White-Robed Witch King were extremely generous; even if the requirements were not met after the observation period, everything learned could still be retained. This was practically a free benefit.

"Remember my name: Ald Luminaris, Lord of the White Tower."

Ian instantly understood the meaning of the name—the first watcher, the first ray of light of order.

After Ald finished speaking, he raised his right hand and gently tapped the air with his index finger.

A pure white rule mark flew from his fingertip and slowly drifted toward Ian's forehead.

"This is my mark of order. You'll have to figure out its function yourself."

The mark settled into Ian's forehead without causing any discomfort, only a faint warmth, like drinking a sip of hot tea on a winter's day.

It spread from his forehead to his entire soul, seeping in along those cracks.

A miracle happened.

The soul cracks, which had only begun to heal, began to heal much faster under the warm influence of the mark.

Especially on the surface of the thirty-seven cracks, new pale golden buds are constantly growing out, and the edges of the cracks are beginning to truly stick together.

The feeling of constantly losing the essence of the soul immediately lessened considerably.

Only the deepest crack remains stubbornly there, the warmth of the imprint unable to penetrate.

The primordial, chaotic fragments at the edge formed a barrier, keeping out all the warmth that tried to enter.

"That crack, the mark can't help you." Ald glanced at it.

Primal Chaos is the core fragment of the Abyss's rules. It is a mirror image of the power of order. Forceful intervention from external forces will only trigger new annihilation.

Ian can only wear it down little by little on his own, and that will be a very long process.

"I will teach you some knowledge over the next period of time, but every true spirit wizard needs to forge their own path."

Ald turned around and led Ian through the last portal of light.

The world behind the door made Ian hold his breath.