Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 327 This Universe
Before we begin our meal, I'd like to introduce tonight's menu.

Cassandra gracefully picked up a menu made of living paper, the text of which seemed to adjust automatically according to the reader's emotional state.

"Each dish tonight has its own special origin and meaning."

The first dish was served quickly.

It was a plate of seemingly ordinary deep red fruit, but Ron immediately sensed something was amiss.

These fruits have fine pores on their surface, and they are undergoing a faint respiration.

"This is the 'Blood Fruit,' which comes from the Tree People race in the Nordra Great Forest."

Cassandra explained, a hint of satisfaction in her voice:
"The tree people rely on this fruit as their staple food, as it contains concentrated life essence and fragments of memory."

She gently cut open one of the fruits, and immediately a faint green mist rose up.

The air was filled with the fresh scent of the forest, mixed with a certain indescribable smell of decay.

"After consuming it, one can temporarily gain the life perception abilities of a tree-person, and at the same time experience the memory fragments sealed within the fruit," Cassandra continued to explain:
"Of course, most of these memories are about death and suffering, but there is also some valuable information."

Ron tasted a small piece and immediately felt a flood of chaotic fragments of memory rush into his brain:

Laughter and cheers in the forest, a sudden and terrifying flame, the desperate cries of the tree people, and... the indifferent face of the conqueror.

"How are the tree people of Nordra now?" Yutel asked calmly.

“They chose to resist.” Cassandra’s tone turned cold.

"It is a great pity that the Nordra Forest has now become a scorched wasteland."

However, we preserved enough biological samples, including the seeds of these blood fruits.

Perhaps one day, we can re-establish this race in a more suitable environment.

Eve's hands trembled slightly as she heard this: "The entire race..."

“I ended them all with my own hands,” Cassandra said without any attempt to hide it.

"Their level of civilization is too low to make any valuable contribution to our development. Keeping them around would only be a waste of resources."

The second dish made everyone present feel deeply uncomfortable.

It was a translucent fish that was still swimming, and you could clearly see its beating heart and flowing blood inside its body.

What's even more frightening is that the fish's eyes gleam with a clear light of intelligence.

"This is the 'Thinking Fish,' a deep-sea creature from the Crystal Sea."

Cassandra used a specially made fork to hold the still-struggling fish in place:
"They possess a level of intelligence close to that of humans and are capable of complex thought processes through bioelectricity."

When the fork pierced the fish, it let out a sound that was almost like a human scream.

At the same time, the light in his eyes flickered rapidly, as if he were making his final decisions.

"Eating fresh Mindfish can temporarily boost brain activity and enhance logical thinking ability."

Cassandra continued, seemingly oblivious to the expressions on the other people's faces:

"Of course, it must be consumed while the person is alive; the effect will quickly disappear after death."

“Cassandra…” Yutel said, somewhat annoyed, “This is a live dissection, not a meal.”

"What's the difference?" the witch asked, a look of confusion in her eyes.

"Aren't the animals we eat every day also living beings? Just because these fish have the ability to think, should they be given a special status?"

She gracefully put a piece of fish into her mouth: "Wisdom should not be a get-out-of-jail-free card, especially when it cannot serve a higher civilization."

Ron looked at the fish in the plate, which was still struggling weakly.

From a purely logical standpoint, Cassandra's argument is indeed impeccable.

But looking into those eyes that were losing their light, he still felt an instinctive unease.

The arrival of the next dish completely froze the atmosphere in the restaurant.

It was a bowl of seemingly ordinary thick soup, but some translucent spherical objects were floating on the surface.

Upon closer inspection, it can be seen that each sphere contains a miniature brain, which is still carrying out faint neural activity.

“This is ‘Wise Soup’,” Cassandra’s tone became unusually solemn.

"Made with the brains of the 'scholar race'."

The scholar race is an intelligent species entirely dedicated to the accumulation of knowledge; their brains, evolved over millions of years, possess unparalleled information storage and processing capabilities.

She picked up the soup spoon and gently stirred the soup:

"Each brain contains the accumulated knowledge of a scholar throughout his life."

Consuming this soup may grant the user a chance to acquire fragments of knowledge.

Ron felt a wave of nausea as he looked at the brains still flickering faintly in the soup.

"I think I understand the point the tower master is trying to make."

He spoke calmly, his voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation:

"The strong have the right to exploit everything the weak possess, including their lives, their wisdom, and even their very existence."

“That’s exactly right.” Cassandra nodded in satisfaction.

"I knew you'd understand. This is the fundamental law of the universe—survival of the fittest, the mighty reign supreme."

“But I still have a question,” Ron continued, “If this predatory model continues, what will we ultimately become?”

This question startled Cassandra: "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when we've devoured enough civilizations and absorbed enough wisdom, will we still be the same people we were before?"

Ron's eyes deepened: "Or will it become a monster pieced together from the memories of countless dead?"

A deathly silence fell over the restaurant.

This question touches on everyone's deepest fears.

What changes occur in the conquerors themselves during the endless process of conquest?
“An interesting philosophical question,” Cassandra replied calmly, but there was a hint of confusion in her voice.

"But I think such concerns are unnecessary. The strong will always be the strong, and their nature will not change just because they have absorbed some of the memories of the weak."

However, Ron noticed that her left hand was trembling slightly under the table, a habitual action when a person feels uneasy.

Clearly, this question touched a nerve deep within her.

Yutel's phantom grew even dimmer: "Perhaps... we should reconsider the long-term consequences of this development model."

"What consequences?" Cassandra's tone became somewhat impatient:

"Becoming stronger? Gaining more knowledge? Mastering more resources? These are all good things."

“More likely, we’ll become a hybrid of the civilizations we’ve devoured,” Ron added calmly.
"To lose one's identity and become a ghost of history."

These words were like a bomb, shattering the last vestiges of peace at the dinner table.

“That’s enough,” Cassandra said coldly.

"We are here tonight to celebrate the beginning of a new era, not to engage in philosophical debates."

This was the first time she had torn off her gentle facade.

Eve looked at the bowl of soup, her face turning pale: "Mother, I think..."

“What do you think?” Cassandra’s eyes sharpened. “You think this is too cruel?”

She gently shook her head:
“Eve, you must learn to look at these issues from a higher perspective.”

There is no absolute good or evil in the universe, only a distinction between strength and weakness.

We have the capability to provide these civilizations with values ​​they cannot obtain, and correspondingly, we have the right to demand reciprocation.

“This is what I want to discuss with Ron today.” She turned to Ron: “The true structure of the multiverse.”

Cassandra got up and walked to one of the walls of the restaurant.

When she touched the wall, the entire wall instantly transformed into a giant projection screen, displaying a complex three-dimensional map of the universe.

"First, you need to understand where we are."

Cassandra points to a shimmering area in the center of the map:

"We live in the seventh quadrant, which is a relatively young region of the universe, about a few hundred million years old."

Within this quadrant, the fundamental laws governing life are essentially the same: carbon-based life, energy cycling, linear flow of time…

Her finger slid across the map, marking several different areas:
"Orcs, lizardmen, dwarves, half-orcs, goblins, elves... these demi-human races are not actually native to the main world."

They originally lived in other planes within the seventh quadrant, each with its own independent civilization and history.

The projection began playing historical footage, showcasing spectacular scenes from the Second Era's "Age of Horizontal Exploration":

Countless portals opened in the void, and armies of various races traversed between different worlds.

Some were conquests, some were alliances, and many more were forced integrations.

"The wizarding ancestors of that time believed that managing these races in a unified manner would bring greater benefits."

Cassandra's tone was approving:

"They proved to be right."

The fusion of multiple races brought us technological leaps and cultural prosperity. The dwarves' forging techniques, the elves' magical prowess, the orcs' fighting instincts… all of these became important components of our civilization.

Her finger moved to another area of ​​the map:
"And those even stranger beings you mentioned—dragons, timehounds, elemental creatures, beholders—come from completely different quadrants."

The projection switches to a more macroscopic perspective, displaying dozens of huge quadrant regions:

"Each quadrant has different underlying rules."

“But traversing between different quadrants is not easy,” Cassandra continued to explain:
"It requires extremely complex technology and huge energy consumption, which is why alien species are so rare here."

"But it is precisely because they are rare that their value is even greater."

Her eyes were filled with greed:

"The time manipulation ability of a Time Hound, the pure energy physique of an Elemental Lord, the power source of a True Dragon... these are all valuable resources that our civilization can learn from and utilize."

"Now let's talk about more practical issues."

Cassandra sat back down in her seat and elegantly sipped the glowing liquid from another world:

"Regarding the policy reforms I announced earlier, I think you may have some concerns."

Her tone became more intimate, as if she were simply discussing everyday topics with a friend:
“Many people thought I would immediately implement a harsh rule and force everyone to participate in the conquest. But in reality, I am a rather patient person.”

Ron maintained a polite listening posture, but activated "Hermit's Insight" to perceive the true intention behind her words.

"Reform takes time, and people's hearts need even more time to adapt."

Cassandra chuckled:
"I have prepared a three-year transition period for the academic alliance. During these three years, traditional academic research will continue, and the existing management system will remain stable."

"Only when people gradually recognize the superiority of the new system will they carry out deeper reforms."

Her fingers lightly traced the rim of the wine glass:
"After all, forced change often triggers unnecessary resistance. Voluntary change, on the other hand, can lead to greater efficiency and less internal friction."

Eve listened quietly, occasionally glancing at Ron with a worried look.

Yutel's phantom remained in that observer's posture, its silver light appearing exceptionally deep under the reflection of the starlight crystal.

"Speaking of which, I'm reminded of something interesting."

Cassandra suddenly changed the subject, her tone suggestive:
“More than a year ago, I actually mentioned the proposed solution for dealing with you in a high-level internal meeting.”

Ron's heart rate quickened slightly, but he remained outwardly calm.

"At the time, some people suggested that you should be subject to special restrictions and supervision, since the variables of the original wizards are too great."

Some suggested that you should be immediately placed in the inner circle to prevent you from being won over by other factions.

She chuckled and shook her head.
“The suggestions were varied, some even quite extreme. But my answer was simple—'Take it as it is.'”

“Treat it normally?” Ron repeated the word, trying to grasp its deeper meaning.

“Yes, treat it normally.” Cassandra nodded in confirmation.
"We will neither give you special treatment nor deliberately suppress you. We will treat you according to your actual performance, just like any other talented young wizard."

Her gaze became meaningful:

"Of course, this 'normal' standard may be a bit higher than most people imagine. After all, your talent is truly outstanding."

"The expressions on the faces of those higher-ups were quite interesting after hearing my answer," she continued.
"Some people are confused and think I'm being deliberately mysterious; some try to decipher a deeper meaning from it; and some simply think I'm lying."

She took a small sip of her wine, a hint of smugness in her eyes:
"But actually, I'm telling the truth. I do intend to treat you normally—as a rare genius should be treated."

"Today's appointments and awards are a reflection of this 'normal treatment'."

Ron began to understand her intentions.

Cassandra was actually implying that she knew she had somehow learned about that high-level meeting.

“The tower master is quite frank,” Ron replied cautiously. “This transparent way of communicating is indeed reassuring.”

“Frankness is the privilege of the strong.” Cassandra nodded in satisfaction.

"Only when you are strong enough can you bear the consequences of speaking the truth. This is an important principle that I hope you can understand."

She put down her glass, her tone becoming more serious:

"Over the next three years, you will have many options. You can continue to focus on academic research, or you can try to participate in some conquest projects."

“I won’t force you to make any decisions, but I hope you can keep an open mind. After all, only by experiencing things firsthand can you make truly wise judgments.”

Just then, the butler Sebastian pushed open the door and entered, carrying an exquisite medicine tray.

"Master, Miss Eve's potion is ready."

Ron noticed that Eve's face turned pale instantly, and her body trembled slightly.

“Thank you, Sebastian.” Cassandra took the tray, her tone still gentle.

"Eve, it's time to take your medicine."

There were three small bottles of medicine on the tray, each emitting a different light.

But through his "supernatural perception," Ron immediately noticed the abnormality of these potions.

That wasn't an ordinary treatment, but some extremely special substance.

Each drop of the potion contains a powerful soul fluctuation, a fluctuation characterized by despair, pain, and fear.

“Mother…” Eve’s voice trembled slightly, “I feel much better today, could you…”

“No.” Cassandra’s tone was gentle, but firm.

"While your 'Demonic Devouring' symptoms have eased somewhat, the underlying problem remains. These potions are essential to maintaining your stability."

She gently stroked Eve's hair, her gesture filled with maternal love:

"I know it doesn't taste good, but you have to stick with it for your health."

Eve looked at Yutel with a pleading look in her eyes.

But the old professor simply shook his head slightly, signaling her not to resist.

Left with no other choice, Eve had to accept the first vial of medicine.

As she brought the medicine to her lips, her whole body began to tremble violently.

The reaction wasn't like a resistance to bitterness; it was more like an instinctive fear from the depths of one's soul.

The moment the medicine entered her mouth, Eve's face turned deathly pale, and she almost vomited.

She bit her lower lip tightly, forcing herself to swallow the medicine, but tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

Using his special senses, Ron only saw the monstrous growths inside the bottle.

Through the profound perception of the "Hermit's Knowledge," one can even vaguely hear the silent screams of those refined souls.

Yutel's phantom suddenly sent him a mental message:

"That's the technology of the 'King of Absurdity'... forcibly compressing and refining the souls of living intelligent beings to create a panacea that can suppress all kinds of symptoms."

“Each drop of the medicine represents the annihilation of dozens of complete lives.”

The old professor's telepathic communication was filled with deep pain:
“Cassandra has been using this method to maintain Eve’s condition for several years.”

Ron felt a chill run down his spine.

If what Yutel said is true, then Eve's survival each day is forced to "consume" countless lives.

And all of this took place under Cassandra's loving smile.

“The second bottle.” Cassandra maintained her motherly tone.

Eve's body trembled even more violently, but she still obediently accepted the second vial of medicine.

This time the reaction was even stronger; she could barely control her gag reflex.

But under her mother's watchful eye, she forced herself to finish taking the medication.

"The last bottle, darling."

The third potion was a deeper color and exuded a stronger aura of spiritual energy.

Eve's hands were trembling uncontrollably, and the vial swayed precariously in her grasp.

"Do you need my help?" Cassandra asked with concern.

"No...no need." Eve shook her head and used all her strength to swallow the last bottle of medicine.

After the whole process was over, she slumped in the chair, her face as pale as paper, and her breathing rapid.

But strangely enough, her magical fluctuations did become more stable.

“See that?” Cassandra turned to Ron, her tone carrying a strange sense of pride.

"Sometimes, saving a person requires paying a price. But as long as the outcome is good, the discomfort along the way is all worthwhile."

Her gaze deepened: "This is the responsibility of the strong. We must make difficult decisions and sacrifice some things for the greater good."

“Eve’s life is more important to me than any moral principle.”

If sacrificing the souls of some lower beings could save my daughter, I would not hesitate to make that choice.

Looking at everything before him, Ron felt a surge of complex emotions.

Cassandra does not exhibit simple evil, but rather an extremely twisted logic.

In her value system, the needs of the strong are paramount, and the safety of loved ones outweighs moral principles.

(End of this chapter)