Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 258 Another Primal Wizard

Reynolds took a sip of the seaweed wine, a specialty of the Glass Islands.

The purplish-black liquid swirled in the goblet, refracting the light of the crystal lamp, like a prisoner's starry sky.

He swirled his wine glass, his gaze thoughtful, as if deciding where to begin answering Ron's questions.

"The situation in the Central Region was far more complex than it was written down."

"On the surface, it appears to be a co-governance alliance of academic schools, but in reality, undercurrents are surging and the power struggle has never stopped; it's just that it's wearing a more sophisticated mask."

Ron nodded slightly, but didn't believe it entirely, silently assessing the veracity of what the other party said.

The subtle fluctuation in Reynolds' tone was not a deliberate concealment, but rather a compression of complex facts.

Clearly, he was trying to simplify a complex system.

"The first thing you need to understand is the Court of Truth."

The man's voice was somewhat hoarse, as if he was worried about being overheard by some unseen ear:

"It exists outside of all systems, like an invisible observer perched at the top of the wizarding world."

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching before continuing:

"The Court of Truth is composed of the most powerful archmages and a few great beings, and has the final decision-making power, but it rarely shows itself."

Unless a major crisis occurs that threatens the very survival of the wizarding world, they remain as distant and indifferent as beings high in the clouds of ancient mythology.

"Is it like an experimenter observing the ecology of microorganisms in a petri dish?"

Ron offered what he considered a fitting analogy.

"Your analogy is surprisingly accurate."

Reynolds was somewhat surprised, then smiled and said:
"So let's talk specifically about the area under the Court of Truth, which is mainly an alliance of several large schools of thought. Among them, the Crystal Spire's position is almost unparalleled."

At this point, he pressed the "automatic food delivery" button and silently set up an isolation array.

Is the gap really as huge as rumored?

Ron raised an eyebrow, while mentally reviewing the scattered information he had gathered.

“It’s even more so than the rumors suggest,” Reynolds said in a deep voice, a subtle sense of awe in his tone.

“Other major schools of thought have at most one or two great wizards, while the Crystal Spire has four great wizards who are publicly known, not to mention those reclusive scholars who are in seclusion and do not concern themselves with worldly affairs.”

He picked up the glass, swirled it gently, and the purplish-black liquid left viscous marks on the glass.
"It may sound like a simple numerical difference, but in the wizarding world, it means a chasm that is hard to cross."

You should be familiar with the food chain of deep-sea creatures, right?
There is often an insurmountable gap in strength between the apex predator and its next-lower predator—the gap is even greater between grand wizards.

Ron nodded thoughtfully, which matched his initial assessment of the power distribution in the wizarding world.

The "library of consciousness" in the mind automatically integrates new information, constructing a clearer map of the power structure.

In this picture, the crystal spire undoubtedly occupies the most prominent position, like the brightest star in the night.

"The Crystal Spire's current status is inseparable from its core power—the Crown Clan."

Reynolds continued, his eyes a mixture of awe and subtle displeasure:
"Especially the current leader—Grand Wizard Cassandra, who is the newly promoted Grand Wizard of the Crown Clan in the last hundred years and the current head of the Crystal Spire."

Under her rule, the Crystal Spire reached its zenith in nearly a thousand years.

“Cassandra.”

Ron repeated the name softly, searching for relevant information in the Library of Consciousness.

He recalled a brief mention in a corner note, but it was very brief.

A subtle glint appeared in Reynolds' eyes as he offered a reminder:
"She is also a Primal Wizard who ascended through the Authentic path."

Ron looked up instantly, his eyes sharp as swords.

Wizards who advance through the original path are already rare, and those who can successfully advance to the rank of Grand Wizard without dying along the way are even rarer.

"Thank you, Wizard Reynolds, for sharing such crucial information with me."

Reynolds waved his hand dismissively:
"In the wizarding circles of the Central Lands, this is hardly a secret. Tower Master Cassandra herself has never shied away from this fact, and is even quite proud of it."

He took a sip of his drink and continued:
"Although Tower Master Cassandra has not been a Grand Wizard for a particularly long time, her strength is exceptionally powerful, even ranking among the top in her class. This is the fundamental reason why she was able to become the Tower Master of this generation."

The two fell into a brief silence, at which point the automatically delivered food tentacles brought out a new dish—"Deep Sea Grip".

It was a deep-sea fish meat that had been treated with special magic. It was shaped like a grasping hand, covered with a crystal-clear blue sauce, and emitted an enticing aroma.

Ron gently poked the fish with his silver fork and was surprised to find that it immediately reacted like a living organism, contracting as if it were real muscle tissue.

This reminded him of those semi-living alchemical materials, which also retained some kind of life characteristics, but had been stripped of their independent consciousness.

"Try it."

Reynolds casually suggested:
"After consumption, it can temporarily enhance tactile sensitivity, which can help with spell casting accuracy. This is also considered one of the specialties of the Ryukyu Islands. The fish are specially processed immediately after being caught, preserving the most original marine energy."

Ron cut off a small piece and put it in his mouth. The fish melted on his tongue, releasing layers of delicious flavor.

At the same time, a subtle numbing sensation spread from the mouth to the whole body, as if every nerve ending was awakened and became unusually sensitive.

He could clearly sense every tiny magical fluctuation in the air, even the molecular structure of the wine in the glass.

"The cooking technique is quite exquisite; it must have involved some extraordinary methods."

Ron commented, while mentally analyzing the principle behind this sensory enhancement effect:
"It preserves some of the activity of the fish's nervous system while reweaving it into a sensory enhancement network to serve the consumer, a technique that is quite ingenious."

"Let's get back to our topic."

Reynolds and Ron, having adjusted to their new sensory states, nodded and continued:

How much do you know about the difference between school-based wizards and free wizards?

Ron pondered for a moment, quickly organizing his relevant knowledge:
"In the Black Mist School, 'freedom' seems to be a concept that is accepted by default but rarely discussed."

We are taught that once you become a certified wizard, everyone has the right to choose their own path.

But considering the resource allocation principles of the extraordinary world, I suspect there must be some kind of implicit constraint in reality?

“You are indeed a keen observer.” Reynolds said with some appreciation:

"In fact, almost all schools of thought induce their apprentices to sign various contracts, only the methods and the severity of the restrictions differ."

His voice grew lower, carrying a warning tone from someone who had been through it all:
"In most cases, these contracts require you to serve the school for several decades after becoming a full-fledged wizard, the length of which depends on the school's investment in your training and their assessment of your potential."

These kinds of contracts are relatively fair, since the school of thought does provide resources and guidance.

Reynolds' eyes sharpened, and his voice lowered even further:

"But if a school of thought places particular importance on a particular apprentice's potential, or conversely, believes that he is unlikely to break through to the Moon Rank, it may use various means to trick him into signing a lifelong, mandatory contract."

The former aims to permanently bind rare talent, while the latter seeks to acquire long-term cheap labor. Neither type of person typically fares well.

Ron nodded slightly; this system design was logically sound.

The wizarding world is essentially an extremely elite society centered on power, where the allocation of resources inevitably follows the principle of maximizing efficiency.

In this system, contractual constraints serve both as a means to guarantee the return on investment for a particular school of thought and as a necessary measure to control the flow of power.

"What are your own experiences, Wizard Reynolds?" Ron asked directly, a question that was not considered offensive among wizards.

After all, the contract period is an unavoidable part of every wizard's career.

"After advancing to the Morning Star level, I served my school, 'Elemental Garden,' for thirty-three years."

Reynolds answered, his tone carrying a subtle, complex emotion, a mixture of nostalgia and relief:

"My main responsibilities include researching and teaching the theory of elemental fusion, as well as conducting regular surveys in some abyssal edge areas. It's not particularly arduous, but it's not easy either."

His eyes brightened:

"I was only liberated in recent years and became a free person, which allowed me to begin my exploration of the abyss, which I was truly interested in."

Since then, every exploration has been incredibly rewarding, and I'm now not far from reaching the peak of the Morning Star level, which is quite a rapid improvement among wizards of my generation.

"It sounds like the contract isn't impossible to terminate early?"

Ron astutely grasped the key point while mentally calculating possible options.

If he ultimately chooses to join a particular school of thought, understanding the flexibility of contracts is clearly crucial.

"Of course there are exceptions."

Reynolds nodded, his fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of the glass, producing a soft hum.
“Major achievements, special contributions, or having a powerful enough person vouch for you may all qualify you for early termination of the contract.”

Another option is to pay a sufficient price to buy out the contract directly.

This theoretically applies to contracts of any level, but in practice, the ransoms for high-level contracts are often shockingly high, making them unaffordable for almost anyone.

Just then, a dish called "Starry Sea Platter" was served.

The plate contains seven strangely shaped deep-sea creatures, resembling a meticulously arranged miniature ecosystem.

Some emit faint fluorescence intermittently, while others change color depending on the viewing angle.

Others seem to maintain a certain simple autonomous movement, appearing to be both food and a living work of art.

"You seem to know a lot about creatures from the abyss."

Reynolds casually changed the subject, his voice tinged with probing:

"The method for dealing with multiple bloodline rejections that you mentioned earlier is not even described in detail in the 'Abyss Mutation Atlas' that I have consulted."

Ron's heart skipped a beat, realizing that the other party was indirectly referring to the transactions in the Silent Market.

This was both a probe and a prelude to the conversation to come.

"I have always had a special interest in biology and the theory of bloodlines."

He responded calmly, neither overemphasizing his expertise nor deliberately avoiding the topic:
"During the Black Mist School period, I was fortunate enough to come into contact with some physical samples and conduct some research on their physiological structure and adaptation mechanisms."

Reynolds coughed lightly, his words becoming more direct:

"To be honest, Wizard Ralph, the reason I'm being so polite and courteous to you is because I value your potential and hope to establish a friendship and some cooperative relationship with you."

Ron showed no surprise, simply waiting for the other to continue.

Although Reynolds' candor surprised him slightly, this direct attitude was actually in line with the norms of interaction between formal wizards.

There is no need for unnecessary concealment, only necessary reservation.

"The magical fluctuations of a primordial wizard who ascends through the authentic path are completely different from those of a wizard who ascends through the conventional path."

Reynolds' gaze fell on the wizard's emblem on Ron's chest, the violin pattern shimmering with an eerie black light, surrounded by an almost imperceptible golden rim:

"The gold border around your magic emblem is one of the hallmarks; it's a feature that's hard to fake and impossible to hide."

Ron looked down at his insignia and did notice the faint golden halo around it.

During his time with the Black Mist School, Hayek and his acquaintances, such as Soren, never wore insignia, which left him with little point of reference and prevented him from noticing this detail.

"As you can see, some of my unique characteristics cannot be completely hidden."

Reynolds shook his head:

"In the Central Lands, hiding one's strength is the most foolish thing to do."

There is no custom of hiding one's abilities here; only by demonstrating one's true strength can one gain the respect and equal treatment of other wizards.

There is an inherent difference between formal wizards and apprentices, and between ordinary extraordinary individuals.

As seeds of great wizards, primordial wizards naturally receive special treatment—this is the most basic rule in a world where strength reigns supreme.

His explanation stirred something within Ron.

"Speaking of the primordial wizards..."

Reynolds took a sip of his drink, his tone suddenly becoming distant:

"Before you appeared out of nowhere, the one whom the entire wizarding world most hoped could successfully advance through the true path was actually the only daughter created by Archmage Cassandra through special means."

"An only daughter?" He was slightly surprised.

Based on his understanding of wizard physiology, beings at the level of a great wizard have almost completely transcended the scope of ordinary life forms, making it difficult for them to reproduce through normal means.

Ron, somewhat curious, put down his cutlery and listened intently.

This kind of internal information about the level of high wizards is extremely valuable, far exceeding what is recorded in general books.

"It took Archmage Cassandra a full fifty years to develop that girl's embryo."

Reynolds' tone carried an undisguised awe:

"It is said that she invested hundreds of rare materials and countless efforts, and even contributed part of her own ethereal structure, all to create the perfect successor—an existence that is innately in harmony with the true path."

Ron's heart started beating faster involuntarily.

This transformation of the essence of life goes far beyond the scope of conventional bloodline modulation and has touched upon the profound mysteries of life creation, which is one of the core areas of his research.

"What was the result?" He controlled his voice, making it sound like mere ordinary curiosity.

Reynolds sighed and shook his head:

"The result is a heartbreaking paradox. Her talent is indeed beyond imagination—she is said to have been born with magical power close to that of a mid-level apprentice, and has an amazing understanding of all kinds of extraordinary knowledge."

But it was precisely this overwhelming talent, coupled with the already magically rich environment of the Central Lands, that led to an extremely rare symptom of 'magic devouring'.

“Demonic Devour.” Ron repeated in a low voice, his brows furrowed slightly.

He had seen this term in some fragments, but the records were extremely fragmentary and mostly cautionary, lacking specific descriptions.

"Simply put, it means that the rate at which the magic power in the body increases far exceeds the limits that the body and mind can bear."

Reynolds explained, his voice filled with regret:

"It's like a bottle with a limited capacity being filled with an endless stream of liquid; eventually, it will overflow and destroy the container itself."

The magic began to uncontrollably erode the body and mind, causing various unpredictable mutations.

(End of this chapter)