Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

The giant white tree outside the treehouse occasionally casts down showers of light, and golden specks of light drift through the window like fireflies, landing on the pages of Ian's open book.

This is the seventh day since the panel was activated.

Ian closed the book "The Structure of the Power of Order" in his hands and rubbed his sore eyes.

The advanced books left by Ald were far more obscure than he had imagined. Each rune contained a vast amount of information, requiring repeated deductions to barely understand even a single layer of meaning.

Now that there's a control panel to help with recording, he feels much more relaxed, but he's more concerned about something else.

Ian closed his eyes and sank his consciousness into his mental sea.

The dual cores of the sun and moon have been restored, their balance has been stabilized again, and the power of the soul is no longer being lost.

Within the spiritual sea, Alder's imprint of order floated quietly, radiating a gentle light.

Under the influence of the mark, golden healing buds have grown all over the cracks in his soul, much faster than Ian had anticipated.

The deepest crack also quieted down, and the original chaotic fragments were suppressed, no longer frantically eroding the surroundings as they had initially.

But being quiet doesn't mean you're cured.

Ian's consciousness cautiously approached the crack, where chaotic fragments were deeply embedded, and tiny, barely visible patterns of regularity were slowly wriggling.

He was familiar with these patterns; the panel had displayed this mirrored structure more than once during the battle against the will of the abyss.

Ian attempted to summon a wisp of the power of order, slowly advancing towards the edge of the crack.

The moment the power of order touched the edge of the fragment, a burning pain exploded from the depths of the soul, and the two opposing rules immediately produced an annihilation reaction.

Although extremely weak, it was still unbearable for his still-unhealed soul.

Ian gritted his teeth, holding onto the power of order and sensing the information surging within.

The patterns inside the fragments are more intricate than those visible on the surface, with each line corresponding to a chaotic expression.

These lines constantly wriggle and recombine, seemingly adapting to the external environment.

He identified several types of information within them: distortion and pollution, rule obscuring, and information tampering—these were the core means by which the will of the abyss eroded the world.

But there are also things he doesn't recognize.

Those deeper patterns, with their more ancient and primitive structures, do not belong to any known abyss system; they are like the "underlying grammar" of chaotic rules.

Ian slowly withdrew his power of order, exhaled a long breath, and left a faint burn mark on the surface of his soul.

Although the panel had completely merged with his soul, his injured soul could not withstand the intense wear and tear.

At the current rate, it might take decades or even centuries for this fragment to wear away on its own.

At that moment, a gentle fluctuation emanated from the soul contract.

Ian opened his eyes, and Kerrigan was standing in the study doorway.

Her injuries were much better than they were a week ago, and the light from the divine mark on her forehead shone even brighter.

"I sense a very strong fluctuation in your soul," Kerrigan said, her eyes filled with concern.

"I just tried it out." Ian didn't hide anything and gave a brief account of the attempt.

Kerrigan paused for a moment, then said, "Perhaps I can be of help."

Ian's gaze sharpened slightly as he looked up at her.

Kerrigan spoke slowly, as if carefully choosing her words.

"The power of faith... is actually a branch of order. Although its structure is slightly different, the underlying logic is the same."

She stretched out her hand, a golden mist appearing in her palm. "Would you like me to guide it into your soul?"

Ian looked at the golden mist but did not respond immediately.

During his months in the White Tower world, he gained a deeper understanding of the belief system by reading Aard's scriptures.

The foundation of the power of faith is the "orderliness of will." Order gives it power, and will gives it form.

The power of faith naturally has a tendency, tending towards the object of faith, towards obedience, and towards dependence.

This tendency is the core mechanism of the operation of the power of faith. Without it, faith cannot be united, transmitted, or mobilized by users.

Ian's power of order is pure, indifferent to any object, dependent on any will, and unobedient to any direction.

It is simply order itself, the underlying logic of how all things operate, cold, objective, and impartial.

If a large amount of faith power were to enter his soul, even without Kerrigan's conscious intention, the natural tendency of faith power would leave a mark on his soul.

Once these traces accumulate, they will subtly alter the way his power of order operates.

"I can give it a try," Ian said after a moment's hesitation.

"But do not let the power of faith penetrate deep into the core of the soul; just stabilize the area around the crack."

Kerrigan nodded without asking further questions; she was well aware of Ian's concerns.

Since becoming the Zerg hive, her understanding of faith has been deeper than anyone else's, and it took her a long time to learn to maintain a balance between the hive's will and her own self-awareness.

After the golden mist entered Ian's mental sea, it immediately began to spread along the edge of the crack.

The effect was immediate; the power of faith could actually calm the chaotic fragments.

Ian felt a warmth spread through his soul and nodded slightly.

"Thank you, it works quite well."

Kerrigan nodded, got up, and left.

As Ian watched her departing figure, a thought flashed through his mind: Kerrigan's control over the power of faith was becoming increasingly sophisticated.

If she continues to improve in this way, her growth rate may exceed everyone's expectations.

But he didn't think much of it, because a gentle fluctuation of consciousness came from outside the treehouse.

It was Teacher Alder.

Ian got up and walked out of the treehouse. The old man in white robes was standing on the edge of the platform, with his back to him, looking at the silver behemoth slowly pacing in the distant mountains.

"Your injuries are healing well," Ald said calmly without turning around.

"Thank you for bestowing the mark of order upon me, teacher." Ian bowed slightly.

Ald turned around, his gaunt face expressionless, and glanced towards the study. "The power of faith?"

Ian's heart tightened, but he remained outwardly calm.

"I tried some adjunctive therapy, and it worked very well."

"Hmm." Ald's tone was calm. "You have an instinctive protectiveness of the purity of order, which is good."

He paused, looking into Ian's golden eyes.

"Order comes in many forms, and you are walking the purest one, relying not on faith, not on will, but solely on the logic of the rules themselves."

"This path is difficult, but once it's cleared, the potential is extremely high."

"I intend to keep going," Ian said calmly, meeting his gaze.

Ald offered no comment, merely nodding slightly before turning and walking toward the roots of the giant tree.

"Come with me, I'll take you somewhere today."

Ian followed as instructed.

The roots of the giant tree are thicker than its trunk, and extremely ancient patterns emerge on its bark, each pattern radiating a light of order.

The further down you go, the higher the concentration of order becomes, and the thicker the air becomes.

Alder stopped in front of a dent at the base of the tree.

The entrance to the recess was extremely narrow, allowing only one person to pass sideways. The door frame was engraved with dense, orderly inscriptions, even older and more complex than those of the Gate of Truth.

"I sealed this secret room myself," Alde said casually. "It's been sealed for... about forty million years."

Ian paused slightly, over forty million years.

The history of the wizarding civilization is only about this long, and the time this secret chamber has been sealed is almost the same as the age of the civilization.

"It contains the operational records of the rules of order that I left behind," Ald continued.

"From the moment the Seed of Order was born until a long period after the establishment of the wizarding civilization, the evolution and reconstruction of all the rules of order were recorded in the secret chamber."

"How long you can stay inside depends on your own abilities."

Ald looked at Ian, and for the first time, a hint of "expectation" appeared in his indifferent eyes.

Ian's heart skipped a beat, and he nodded in response, "Yes."

Ald slightly raised his hand and gently traced a line on the inscription at the entrance of the recess.

The inscription lit up, dispelling the darkness inside the recess and revealing a narrow, downward-facing passage.

"Go in."

Ian took a deep breath, stepped sideways into the passage, and heard Ald's voice behind him.

"Don't try to understand everything; you can't do it right now."

At the end of the passage, a door of light opened silently.