Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

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The space behind the light gate was much smaller than Ian had anticipated.

It was no more than a hundred meters in diameter, with smooth, mirror-like walls, without any decoration or partitions.

The ceiling and floor were covered with the same white crystalline surface, making the entire secret room look like a hollowed-out gemstone.

The moment Ian's feet touched the ground, the whole world changed.

A terrifying pressure pressed in from all directions; it was an overwhelming force of rules, and the concentration of order within the sealed room had reached a level that even the soul felt stinging.

Ian's breathing became rapid, and the panel enveloping his soul suddenly lit up, forming a thin film of light that shielded him from the initial impact.

But it was merely a "blocking".

The order here is so dense it's almost solidified; every fluctuation carries an extremely dense amount of information, like countless needles piercing the soul simultaneously.

There is no malice here, but the information being disseminated is too concentrated for the soul to process.

Ian took three steps forward, then had to sit cross-legged to adjust.

For the first quarter of an hour, he could do nothing but try his best to maintain the stability of his soul.

The dual cores of the sun and moon rotate at a significantly faster speed in the extreme order, seemingly desperately trying to digest the influx of information.

In the first hour, he began to be able to discern the "layers" within the pressure of order.

The outermost layer contains the most common rules: spatial stability, time uniformity, and elemental balance. These are the basic orders of the void, existing in any world. The secret chamber simply compresses them to the extreme.

In the second hour, Ian noticed something deeper.

Beneath those fundamental orders compressed to the extreme, another layer of rules flows.

They are not static, but constantly splitting, recombining, merging, and dissipating, like a giant, never-ending equation iterating itself.

Ian tried to touch these flowing rules with his consciousness, but his fingers stung and he immediately withdrew them.

But that one moment of contact revealed something to him.

The underlying structure of these fluid rules bears some resemblance to the skill upgrade mechanism in his panel.

It's all a process of "continuously adding, optimizing, and perfecting".

He didn't delve into the idea; now was not the time for analysis, he needed to adapt to the environment first.

On the third day, Ian was finally able to stand up, albeit with some difficulty.

He began to move slowly toward the center, taking each step with extreme care.

The pressure to maintain order is growing stronger, but we have learned how to adapt to it rather than fight against it.

Just like diving in the deep sea, you don't fight against the current, but let your body adapt slowly.

On the fourth day, Ian rested against a wall in the secret room.

His soul essence has undergone a significant change, and the surface cracks have been completely healed.

Ian's attention was no longer on his injuries; he was observing the flowing, deep rules.

Over four days, he discovered a pattern: the flow of these rules was not random.

They have a general "direction" and converge from the perimeter of the chamber towards the center, forming an extremely faint vortex at the center.

The center of the vortex is precisely the geometric center of the sealed chamber.

Ian hesitated for a moment, then slowly moved toward the center.

As they get closer to the center, the density of the flowing rules increases dramatically, and with each breath, the amount of rule information flowing into their soul doubles.

The rotation speed of the Sun and Moon dual cores was so fast that their afterimages were no longer visible, and the power of the soul became increasingly profound as they operated at high speed.

Ian stopped ten steps from the center.

Near the center, those flowing rules began to present an extremely vast picture.

This is a more abstract "information structure," like the rings of a tree, one ring wrapping around another, with the innermost ring being the oldest and most primitive.

Each ring of a tree is a record of the order and rules of an era.

Ian held his breath, immersing himself fully in the moment.

These rings of time before us record the changes in order of the wizarding civilization over nearly ten million years.

The impact of war, the expansion of civilization, the birth of new systems and the demise of old ones...

The amount of information was vast, but Ian could only grasp the vaguest outline.

As the tree rings grow deeper into the tree, the information conveyed by the patterns becomes increasingly ancient.

He witnessed the order and structure established at the beginning of wizarding civilization, the first generation of wizards' understanding of the rules, and the large-scale reconstruction of order before and after the first Abyss War...

Further in, the tree rings grow older and the information becomes more primitive.

The writing disappeared, the runes disappeared, leaving only the pure structure of rules: the most basic space, time, causality, existence, and nothingness.

Ian felt his soul trembling violently; it was a deep "resonance".

His source of order, or rather, his panel, resonated with these most primal rules in the deepest part of his soul.

He saw a seed.

A tiny, pure white dot of light floated in nothingness.

This is what the teacher called the seed of order.

It is merely the most primitive order, an order that has not yet differentiated into any specific rules.

It is simply "existence" itself, a proof that something can exist in absolute nothingness.

Then, the seed of order began to grow.

It grows extremely slowly.

It's so slow that it can't be measured using conventional time scales.

But it has been growing, from a single point of light to a line, from a line to a network, and from a network to the prototype of a dimension.

Then, Ian saw a pair of hands.

A pair of thin, bony hands gently cradled the newly sprouted Seed of Order.

Alder, back then, looked almost exactly the same as he does now.

He wore the same white robe, had an aged face, but his eyes were now filled with piety.

The Seed of Order continued to grow in Alder's hands, undergoing a qualitative change every extremely long period of time.

New rule branches diverge from the main branch, and new dimensions are folded from old dimensions.

Ald was right there, watching the whole time.

He would occasionally reach out and leave some guidance on the Seed of Order, like pruning branches, to make the growth direction of the Seed of Order more reasonable.

Tens of millions of years are but a fleeting moment in the orderly cycle of the secret chamber.

Ian watched as the Seed of Order grew into a towering tree, its roots penetrating deep into the void, its branches covering countless worlds.

Under this tree, Alder established a wizarding civilization, formulated the initial rules, and trained the first wizards.

Ian's consciousness continued to explore and saw Alder's first disciple, witnessing the entire process of Alder's meticulous teaching—a genius whose talent surpassed even the Witch Emperor's.

Then, the abyss came.

It was a clash of more than a dozen unimaginable wills, and then, we saw the figure of that genius fall.

This was the first clash between chaos and order, leaving the deepest crack in the rings of time.

That was a devastating blow to the rules themselves. The primal chaos of the abyss, like an invisible blade, cleaved a wound in the very foundation of the Tree of Order that could never heal.

Since then, the opposition between order and chaos has become an eternal theme in this void.

Ian also saw Alder's other two disciples, each of whom was exceptionally talented.

Three lives, three inheritances, three different endings.

An indescribable emotion welled up in Ian's heart.

Alder had a good eye for disciples, but he was unlucky.

Geniuses die young, the pure go far away, and the stubborn go astray.

He was the fourth.

Ian shifted his attention away from the stories of these three people and continued to explore the deepest parts of the tree.

That is where the seed of order first sprouted, and where the most primitive rules are recorded.

At that spot, Ian saw a blank space.

That blank space is not nothingness. Nothingness is a state where there is nothing at all, while this blank space is a state where "something should exist, but it hasn't grown yet."

Like a tree with a central root, there is a place where the root system should have extended, but for some reason, it stopped, leaving a gap.

Within that void, there was a faint, extremely weak fluctuation.

It is neither order nor chaos; Ian cannot define it using known concepts.

Suddenly, Ald's voice rang out in the secret room, "That blank space, I expect you to fill it."

Ian did not respond; his consciousness remained immersed in the rings of time.

"The Tree of Order has grown for over forty million years, and even I cannot completely cover the edges of its branches and leaves."

"But its root system has never fully expanded. That gap is a possibility; perhaps it can grow into a form we have never seen before."

The sound faded, the secret room returned to silence, and Ian's consciousness slowly withdrew from the rings of time.

He found himself still in the center of the secret room, sitting cross-legged.

The surface of the soul is covered with a layer of white light film, which is a protective layer that naturally forms after the high concentration of order in the secret room permeates into the soul.

The rotation speed of the sun and moon dual cores has returned to normal, but the shapes of both have undergone subtle changes.

The sun's flames now feature silvery-white patterns, while the moon's glow has been enhanced with golden-red sparks.

Two originally distinct forces, under the long-term immersion in a highly concentrated environment of order, began to converge and grew closer together.

Ian took a deep breath, slowly stood up, and walked towards the exit of the secret room.

The door to the secret room opened silently, light poured in, and a giant white tree came into view.

He paused for a moment, then hesitated before asking, "Teacher, how long was I inside?"

"Five months," Ald replied casually.

Ian felt a chill; the flow of time inside the secret chamber was different from that outside.

He sensed an extremely long period of time within it, more than 40 million years of history recorded by those order rings, but in reality only five months had passed.

But in those five months, he gained more insights than in all of his previous time combined.

The last crack in his soul essence had completely healed, leaving not a trace of a gap.

Ald didn't say much, but glanced at Ian, his anticipation even more evident than before he went in.

"Go and rest; your soul needs time to heal."

Ian bowed and turned to walk towards his treehouse. Gaa squatted at the door of the treehouse, her silver pupils wide open.

"Where did you go?" It flew to Ian's shoulder and tugged at his collar with its silver claws.

"I thought you were going to stay inside until I turned into a fossil."

Ian rubbed its fluffy head and smiled.

"Not bad, you've already reached the late stage of level four, and you're almost catching up with me."

This isn't a no-go, it's a recommendation for the treasure book "The Wizard: My Skills Can Be Limitless":