Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

The morning mist in the silver leaf forest had not yet dissipated.

Ian pushed open the wooden gate to the courtyard, where the air was filled with dew and fragrance.

Gaga jumped off his shoulder and flew up to a silver tree in the yard.

"It's much more comfortable than that stone house in the White Pagoda World." It perched on a tree branch, its silver eyes narrowed into slits.

Kerrigan stood on the veranda, surveying the layout of the courtyard, her gaze lingering for a moment on the open space in the corner.

"I planted a few Void mycelia here, but the order concentration in the White Tower world is too high, and the mycelia have been unable to grow normally."

Ian did not object and went back inside to sit cross-legged.

Deep within the soul, the source of order quietly surges, and three years of sedimentation have made it more refined, but it is still not enough.

There is still one crucial step away from condensing an immortal soul.

He took out a thumb-sized, deep black crystal from his personal storage space; it was a fragment of primordial chaos.

A familiar line of handwriting appeared in the corner of my eye:

[Primal Chaotic Fragment: Current state is stable, chaotic rule concentration decreased by 11.7%]

Ian put the fragment back into his personal space. Even Ald had not fully seen through the true nature of this fragment.

Light footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate; they were the light, graceful footsteps unique to moon elves.

A voice came from outside the door: "Chief Elder, Lord Brûlé of the Warforge Academy wishes to see you."

Ian did not respond immediately. This Bloom, he found out about his return so quickly.

"Tell him to wait a moment, I'll be right there."

A voice answered from outside the door, and the footsteps quickly faded away.

Gaga poked its head out from the tree branch and said, "Ian, you're going to be busy from now on. You might as well not see any of them."

"This is an acquaintance; it's not appropriate to refuse to see him."

Gaga rolled its eyes and shrank back into the shade of the tree.

Kerrigan glanced at Ian. "Once the news gets out, it won't just be one person coming."

Ian nodded. A disciple of the White Emperor, a descendant of the oldest Witch King—that's a very important title.

Every word represents resources, connections, and the potential heights one can reach in the future.

Soon, a crimson light pierced through the clouds, abruptly receding hundreds of meters above Moon God Peak, transforming into a burly figure.

Kerrigan's gaze lingered on Brûlé for a moment before shifting away. In her opinion, a Level 6 Sunburst was indeed strong, but that was all.

Bloom's attention was entirely on Ian. He scrutinized Ian for a few seconds, then grinned.

"Haha, Ian, we meet again."

"Dean Bloom," Ian nodded slightly, "please come in."

Brown strode to the stone table, plopped down, and the table creaked painfully beneath him.

He reached into his spatial ring, took out a flask of wine, and poured it into two cups.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush with you." He pushed a glass towards Ian.

"The identity of the Witch King's disciple carries significant weight within the alliance. Many of the six major powers want to recruit you, and even more want to test you."

He picked up his glass and downed it in one gulp. "I'm not here to win you over."

"So you've come here to..." Ian was taken aback.

"I just came to see you." Bloom wiped his mouth.

"I have lived for countless millennia and have never seen what the disciples of the Witch Emperor look like."

His gaze met Ian's golden eyes without flinching.

Ian remained silent, picked up his glass but didn't drink, he just swirled the glass around.

"Brother Bloom, finished watching?"

Bloom stared at him for a moment, then let out a low laugh.

"Interesting." He stood up and patted off non-existent dust from his clothes.

"You, a level 5 Radiant Moon, faced a level 6 opponent without even losing your composure. Three years ago, you couldn't have done that."

"You said it yourself, it was three years ago," Ian replied casually.

Bloom laughed again, this time even louder, shaking the leaves in the yard so much they fell to the ground.

"Alright, I won't keep you any longer." He turned and walked towards the sky, then turned back after a couple of steps. "There's something I need to tell you in advance."

His voice lowered, becoming rough with a hint of seriousness. "The Star Sea Divine Court has been rather unruly lately."

Ian's gaze sharpened slightly.

"Their actions near the Xuanhuang World have escalated." Bloom's tone became serious, no longer as casual as before.

He took a scroll from his spatial ring and tossed it onto the stone table.

"Servia used divination to observe some fragmented information, but it was incomplete."

"What is certain is that those deities are no longer making tentative contact as before, but rather conducting a truly systematic reconnaissance."

After saying this, without waiting for Ian's response, Bloom's figure soared into the sky and disappeared into the clouds in the blink of an eye.

He came suddenly and left just as abruptly.

After his breath disappeared, Ga Ga flew down from the tree branch, its silver eyes fixed on the scroll.

"This guy is really straightforward." Ian picked up the scroll and unrolled it.

Inside was a message recorded with special inscriptions, a fragment of Servia's prophecy. The text was blurry and broken, as if it had been torn apart by something.

"...The web of faith...extends eastward...the cracks in the world..."

Several keywords caught Ian's attention. He pondered for a moment and then rolled up the reel.

Kerrigan walked over from the veranda and glanced at the empty wine glass on the stone table.

"I just received the news that almost all of the Zerg's main force has gone into hiding." She said calmly.

"The standoff between Tassadar and Zagara continues, but the other level seven overlords are hiding deep in the void licking their wounds. Without the Zerg to keep them occupied, the gods of the Star Sea Divine Court will inevitably shift their attention."

"It was inevitable, but no one expected the war to end so quickly," Ian remarked.

"They have always considered the Zerg to be the greatest threat." Kerrigan's gaze darkened slightly.

"The news of the Zerg's defeat clearly frightened them. A civilization capable of annihilating the Void Zerg was right beside them; anyone would be terrified."

Gaga took Ian's glass of wine to its mouth, tilted its head back and gulped it down, choking and flapping its wings.

"Cough cough... What is this stuff... It's even stronger than Void Fungus Liquid..."

Ian ignored it and lowered his head in thought.

His past experiences in the Divine Court were arranged and combined in his mind, cross-referencing with the fragments of Servia's prophecy on the scroll.

He hadn't fully grasped the intricacies of the situation yet, but one thing was clear: the peace between the two civilizations wouldn't last long.

He sighed inwardly, realizing that the planned settling-in period would likely not be peaceful either.

Footsteps sounded again outside the courtyard gate, this time from two groups, one of which was noticeably more steady.

"Chief Elder," the voice of a moon elf patrolman came from outside the door, "the representative of the Tower of Knowledge has arrived along with the envoy of the Dragonsleep Temple."

Ian stood up, straightened his robes, and said, "Please come in."

Gaga hid the wine jug under its wing and squatted back down on the stone table with a serious expression.

Kerrigan retreated into the shadows of the corridor; she disliked dealing with these things.

In her words, "Improving myself is a hundred times easier than this; playing games with a bunch of wizards is a waste of time."

But Ian knew that she had a special status and the dignity of being the Queen of the Zerg, and she didn't like these social interactions.

The two visitors stepped into the courtyard.

The first one was an elderly man who looked to be in his sixties, dressed in a simple gray robe, with a neatly trimmed beard.

His eyes were gentle, but beneath that gentleness lay a profound insight. He carried a thin notebook between his arms and walked as if he were taking a stroll.

The second one was a young dragon, with silver-white scales covering half of his face, and his vertical pupils conveyed a deliberate friendliness.

He wore a well-tailored dark blue robe with a badge of the Dragon Rest Temple pinned to his left breast.

"Lord Ian," the old man spoke first, his tone gentle, as if he were exchanging pleasantries with an old friend.

"I am Cass, a scholar in the Foreign Affairs Department of the Tower of Knowledge. Dean Orion has instructed me to convey his greetings."

He bowed slightly, his movements neither humble nor arrogant.

"This is an academic paper." He took a scroll from his sleeve and handed it to him with both hands.

"The Dean said that you have spent three years in the White Tower world, and may have some unique insights into the hypothesis of 'order concentration gradient' in this paper."

Ian took the scroll but didn't open it. "Please give my thanks to Lord Orion."

The old man smiled, his eyes sweeping over Ian with a very subtle glance.

Ian knew that the people in these Tower of Knowledge were somewhat mentally unstable, so he didn't mind.

The dragon envoy stepped forward, his vertical pupils revealing a hint of nervousness. He was clearly much younger than the old man, and his restraint was palpable when facing Ian.

"Lord Ian," his voice was gentler than expected, "the Lord of the Palace has ordered me to bring a gift."

He stretched out his hands, palms up, and a golden scale the size of a fingernail lay quietly on them, radiating warmth.

"The Lord's scales." Ian's gaze narrowed slightly.

Although not the reverse scale, it is still the most precious token of the dragon race. In the ancient tradition of the dragon race, giving a scale to someone means acknowledging that person and being willing to lend a helping hand in times of danger.

This amount is much heavier than the wine in the Bronnai jug.

"You're too kind, Lord." Ian raised his hand and sent the scales flying into his palm.

The dragon envoy visibly breathed a sigh of relief; he had completed his mission. He took two steps back and stood beside the old man.

Ian put the scales into his storage space. "Please tell the Palace Master that I will definitely pay him a visit another day."

The two said their goodbyes and left. When Cass reached the door, he paused for a moment on the few Void Fungus plants in the corner of the courtyard, then turned and left.

As soon as they were out of sight, the wine jug slid out from under its wing.

"That old man in the Tower of Knowledge has such an annoying look in his eyes," it said angrily.

"He wants to know what I learned at the White Tower; that's just how these researchers are."

Ian picked up the wine jug on the stone table, poured himself a glass, and the dark yellow liquid emitted a spicy aroma.

"The things the dragons give are really valuable." Gaga leaned over and sniffed the wine glass. "This is much more valuable than any academic paper."

Ian held his wine glass, his gaze passing over the courtyard wall and looking towards the distant Silvermoon Heights.

In the distance, the light of a teleportation array flashed, and another group of visitors arrived at the outer reception area of ​​Silvermoon Highlands.

The remaining representatives were still in line, and he didn't intend to meet them.

Serafina will shield him from those who are not worth his personal attention. What he really needs to care about are the motives behind these forces' visits and the intelligence that Bronn brought.

Ian downed the drink in one gulp; the spicy liquid burned his throat and then warmed his chest.

The Silver Moon Heights fell silent at night.

Ian sat on the stone steps in the courtyard and closed his eyes.

Deep within his soul, the source of order flowed slowly around the point of his soul, each pulse making the point of energy more condensed.

He needs to break through to level six as soon as possible. If the information brought by Brûlé is true, he may not have much time left.