Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 435: Vicious dogs inside, please do not approach.

At the edge of the Vital star system, on the highest observation platform of the flagship "Monarch," Cassandra stood as still as a statue.

The distant starry sky has lost its former magnificent order.

Those wizard warships, which were once neatly arranged like a steel forest, now float scattered in the void, like withered trees and broken branches after a hurricane.

Every ship's silhouette tells a story of the pain of defeat.

The metal fragments left by the explosion shimmered under the starlight, reflecting a despairing light like a shattered mirror.

Occasionally, a few severely damaged frigates would slowly pass by.

The cracks on the hull were shocking, and the twisted internal structure and congealed bloodstains were vaguely visible inside.

"Grand Wizard Melvis's Third Fleet has begun its retreat. Their communications officer claims there is a need to 'reassess the tactical value'."

Cassandra did not turn around, but simply stroked the surface of the viewing window.

The living crystal trembled slightly under her touch, as if it could sense the anger in her heart.

"Evaluate?"

Her voice was eerily calm, but those who knew her well knew that this calm was often the calm before the storm.

"They were assessing how to get as far away as possible before I completely lost my temper."

The adjutant swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Even from this distance, he could feel the terrifying pressure emanating from the tower master.

"Pass the order."

Her voice remained calm, but the murderous intent it contained caused the temperature on the entire observation deck to plummet.
"Any fleet that withdraws without permission will be treated as a defector. The 'purification' agreement will be implemented."

The adjutant's face turned ashen instantly.

The "purification" protocol means annihilating the entire warship and its crew, leaving no trace.

"Master...doing this might trigger an even larger-scale..."

"You are questioning my decision?"

Cassandra's voice was sharp as a blade, and the light in her purple eyes became even more dangerous.

The adjutant immediately knelt on one knee, his head almost touching the ground:
"Your subordinate wouldn't dare! I will carry out your order immediately!"

After the adjutant left trembling, the observation post fell silent once more.

Cassandra gazed again at the starry sky outside the window, watching the fleet dispersing.

A self-deprecating smile appeared on her lips.

"Even my allies who have followed me for so many years have begun to betray me..."

She gently stroked the Conquest badge on her chest, feeling the power it contained.

But now, even that power seems so insignificant.

………………

Inside the private cabin, the altar of flesh and blood was unusually active today.

Those writhing blood vessels crawled across the ground like snakes, trying to weave into some meaningful pattern.

But each time it's about to take shape, it will strangely distort and eventually turn into a crying face.

Cassandra strode toward the altar, each step making a dull thud on the floor.

Her emotions were on the verge of spiraling out of control, and the power of the ethereal body within her began to leak out unconsciously, forming a purple energy vortex around her.

"Ancestor!"

She pressed hard on the center of the altar, her palm almost digging into the writhing mass of flesh.

Fresh blood immediately seeped from between his fingers and was greedily absorbed by his blood vessels.

"Your descendants are about to be destroyed here by those traitors! I need your strength! I need your guidance!"

But unexpectedly, the altar suddenly began to spasm violently, as if it were experiencing some kind of indigestion.

The next moment, the blood that had just been absorbed was expelled again, forming a pool of dark red liquid on the ground.

The blood vessels began to writhe on the ground, slowly writing a few crooked words with their blood:

"It tastes bad...it's too bitter..."

Cassandra froze, staring incredulously at the blood-red words on the ground.

"Even your altar is starting to despise me?!"

Anger erupted from the depths of her heart like a volcano, and concentrated purple magic danced wildly in the cabin.

The decorations on the walls began to melt, and the air itself seemed to twist and deform in her rage.

Just as she was about to completely lose control, the flesh altar suddenly began to speak.

But the voice that came out wasn't the eerie, paradoxical voice of the King of Absurdity, but a tender child's voice:

"Grandma, Grandpa isn't home. He went to play somewhere else."

"what?!"

Cassandra was stunned, her anger turning into confusion.

The way she was addressed was baffling, but what bothered her even more was the casual tone of the voice.

"Grandpa said he's playing a very, very big game of chess right now and shouldn't be disturbed. But he left you a note..."

As the child's voice explained, a piece of paper slowly "grew" out from the center of the flesh and blood altar, like a plant sprouting.

The note looked ordinary, but a few lines of writing were scrawled on it:
"I've been very busy lately, so don't bother me."

If something happens, figure out how to solve it yourself.

The game has reached a critical moment; one wrong move and the whole game is lost.

—Left casually by your dear ancestor

At the end, there was a simple line drawing of a little person sticking out their tongue, which looked like a doodle.

Cassandra stared at the obviously perfunctory note, feeling her sanity rapidly slipping away.

The mighty Witch King actually responded to her plea for help in this way?

“You didn’t have this attitude when you led me down this path!”

Her voice began to tremble, whether from anger or despair, it was hard to tell:
"Now that you need to take responsibility, you're turning a deaf ear?! Is this the demeanor of the Witch King?!"

Purple magic swept through the entire cabin like a storm.

Precious ornaments were reduced to dust under the impact of energy, and even the special metal that made up the walls began to deform.

But the altar of flesh and blood just curled up in a pitiful ball, and the child's voice continued:

"Grandma, don't be angry... Grandpa is really busy with something very important. He said he'll take me to see the stars after he finishes this..."

"enough!"

Cassandra's roar nearly tore the command room apart.

Her ethereal power went completely out of control, and spatial cracks began to appear throughout the entire chamber.

Just as she was about to completely lose her mind, iridescent light unfolded in the air, as dazzling as the aurora borealis.

The shimmering mirror slowly took shape, dispelling the chaotic energy within the cabin.

That gentle yet dignified aura immediately calmed the raging purple magic.

“Cassandra, while that old man’s actions are certainly infuriating, you’ve gotten a bit out of control.”

The King of Illusions' voice carried a hint of helplessness, but there was no blame in it:

"Let's calm down first."

"Lord Pandora..."

Seeing this only elder who was still willing to care about him.

Cassandra's voice was tinged with helplessness:
“I need help… The expeditionary force is on the verge of collapse. Vital’s ‘Star Lord’ is more powerful than any intelligence has described…”

Her voice began to tremble:
"I feel like I can't hold on any longer. My allies who have fought alongside me for years are starting to betray me, and even my ancestors don't want to see me anymore..."

The figure in the mirror shook its head slightly, its tone tinged with sympathy:

“I know, child, the power of that ancient god is indeed beyond the scope of conventional conquest. But…”

The King of Illusions paused, as if organizing his thoughts:
"The key to breaking the deadlock lies not on the battlefield, but in understanding."

"understand?"

Cassandra looked up in confusion, her purple eyes filled with bewilderment:

“I have been studying the Republic of Vital for thirteen years. Is there anything I don’t understand?”

"The true source of power for the Republic of Vital lies not only in the 'Star Lords' themselves, but also in their unique social structure and collective consciousness network."

The King of Illusions' tone became deep and mysterious:
"To truly conquer them, we cannot rely solely on force; we must fundamentally dismantle this deep-seated connection. And this requires insight, not destructive force."

Cassandra nodded thoughtfully, but quickly looked puzzled:
"But I've already tried to analyze their social structure; I can recite the distribution map of those collective consciousness nodes from memory..."

"You're only analyzing the surface."

The figure in the mirror chuckled softly:
"Sometimes, the most complex problems don't require more information, but rather a completely new way of thinking. And among the people you know, there is a young person with this... unique perspective."

"You mean..."

Cassandra seemed to understand something, but then her expression turned to disbelief:

“Ron? But he’s only a newly promoted Moon-level wizard, how could he possibly handle a problem of this level…”

“Cassandra, strength level does not equate to wisdom level.”

The King of Illusions' voice became gentle and patient:

"Some people are born with the ability to see the essence of things and can see the key points that others overlook."

The way that young man thought while treating Eve has already proven this point.

The mirror began to slowly fade, but the King of Illusions' voice remained clear:

“Give him Vital’s detailed information and let him analyze it from an outsider’s perspective. I believe you will be surprised by the results.”

"but……"

Cassandra wanted to ask more questions, but the mirror had completely vanished.

The cabin fell silent again, leaving her alone to face the suggestion.

She slowly stood up and stared into the empty air.

Reason told her that the suggestion was absurd.

How could a newly promoted young wizard possibly solve the problem that has plagued these great wizards for thirteen years?
But deep down, I had a vague feeling that this might really be the last hope.

After all, when all conventional methods fail, unconventional approaches may work wonders.

Moreover, Ron did demonstrate insight beyond his years.

During Eve's treatment, the wisdom he displayed was praised even by the ancient great wizards.

"Maybe……"

She gently touched the conquest badge on her chest, and hope rekindled in her purple eyes:

"Perhaps it's time to trust the wisdom of young people."

The altar of flesh and blood huddled in a corner, and the child's voice spoke cautiously:
"Grandma's not angry anymore? Grandpa actually cares about you a lot, but he really can't get away right now..."

Cassandra glanced at the altar, shook her head with a wry smile:

“Tell ‘great-grandfather’ that his descendants will find a way to solve the problem themselves.”

Although she still had doubts, she had no other choice but to trust the King of Illusions' advice.

Moreover, even if this attempt fails, at least it won't make the situation worse.

………………

The dedicated aircraft slowly descended, and the low hum of the hovering engine gradually dissipated.

Ron looked out through the crystal porthole and was slightly surprised by what he saw.

In the heart of the most bustling commercial district of Dawn Harbor stands an excessively ordinary three-story building.

This three-story building is nestled between a materials shop and an alchemy workshop.

The exterior walls are made of ordinary gray and white stone bricks, and there isn't even a sign.

If one did not know beforehand, anyone would mistake it for a small vendor's warehouse.

The surrounding area was bustling with noise, and vendors of all skin colors were hawking their exotic goods.

A green-skinned goblin held aloft a crystal ball that automatically changed color, and touted its "prophetic abilities" in a high-pitched voice;
The orc blacksmith next to him displayed his still-steaming weapons, the sound of his hammer striking the ground like thunder echoing through the street.

Strangely, the bustling crowd seemed completely oblivious to the aircraft that had just landed, as well as the two people who emerged from it.

Their gaze will naturally drift over this area, as if it doesn't exist at all.

Even if someone glances in this direction unintentionally, their eyes will become empty and blank, and then they will look away as if nothing had just happened.

Ron nodded and activated the "Hermit's Sense," enhanced by the "Intellectual Triangle," to perceive more deeply.

In his upgraded perception, the building was surrounded by countless layers of cognitive barriers, nested like a Russian nesting doll.

The outermost layer is "existential forgetting"—making people subconsciously ignore this area;

The middle one is "memory fuzziness"—even if you notice it, you will quickly forget it;

The innermost layer is "cognitive rejection"—resisting the existence of this place from the depths of one's mind.

A woman from another race carrying a fruit basket walked straight past Ron, almost bumping into him, but she continued on her way without noticing.

“Mentor, it’s hard to imagine that the clan’s most mysterious treasure trove is right here.”

Eve adjusted her hair accessories, her purple eyes filled with tension.

The jeweled hairpins shimmered in the sunlight, a testament to her careful attention to her appearance today.

"Sometimes I feel that the fact that our ancestral king of absurdity chose this position is itself full of wicked humor."

"The most dangerous place is often the safest place."

Ron then spoke thoughtfully, while activating his "Time-Seeing Eye" to observe the subtle distortions in space:
"Moreover, since the King of Absurdity is known as 'absurd,' it is not surprising that he would make such an unconventional choice."

It would be surprising if he actually built a solemn and majestic temple.

Eve took a deep breath and walked toward the seemingly ordinary wooden door.

A faded notice was pasted on the door.

It was written in crooked handwriting:

"Beware of vicious dogs inside, please do not approach."

When the girl's hand touched the doorknob, Ron clearly felt a powerful pressure emanating from inside the building.

That wasn't hostility, but rather some incomprehensible being "observing".

Pushing open the door, you find a perfectly normal coffee shop inside.

This is indeed a coffee shop.

It's a really normal coffee shop.

Warm yellow lights shone brightly, and wooden tables and chairs of warm colors were arranged in an orderly manner. The air was filled with the rich aroma of ground coffee beans.

A gramophone in the corner was playing soothing music, and several guests sat quietly in their seats, talking in hushed tones.

Several guests were talking in hushed tones, their voices as soft as feathers brushing past one's ears.

Everything was so warm and pleasant, so...normal.

The only problem is that every head here is upside down.

It's not simply upside down; it's completely reversed in terms of anatomical structure.

Their necks were twisted at an angle that defied physiology, so that their faces were facing the ground and the backs of their heads were pointing upwards.

But these people seemed completely unconcerned, and could even pick up their coffee cups normally.

The liquids all flow upwards.

"welcome!"

A waiter, head down, greeted us enthusiastically, his neck twisted at an incredible angle.

He had a bright smile on his face, but because his head was upside down, the smile looked unusually eerie:
"What would you two like to order? Our specialties today are 'melancholy coffee' and 'exhilarating tea'."

There are also 'Nostalgic Milkshake' and 'Anticipated Juice,' both made with the freshest emotions.

Eve seemed prepared for this scene, and said calmly:
"We must enter the treasure vault."

"Oh! A treasure trove!"

The waiter clapped his hands excitedly.

He had a bright smile on his face, but because his head was upside down, the smile looked unusually eerie:
"Please come this way!"

The other patrons in the café stopped talking and turned their upside-down faces toward them:
"Another guest is going to the treasure vault! What a rare occasion!"

"When was the last time someone entered the treasure vault?"

"Probably yesterday...or tomorrow?"

"It's hard to say exactly when."

The waiter pointed to an oil painting of sunflowers on the wall:

"Please come this way! Mr. Sunflower will verify your identity."

Ron examined the painting closely.

The oil painting technique is quite exquisite.

Each petal of the sunflower is lifelike, with bold and unrestrained brushstrokes, as if it might sway in the breeze at any moment.

However, in the eyes of "supernatural perception," this sunflower exudes a strong vitality and is clearly not a simple work of art.

Eve walked over and cleared her throat toward the sunflower:

“I am the heir of the Crown Clan, Eve Saint Manzhi.”

(End of this chapter)