Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 462 is all about playing hard to get.
The day after the disaster, the Sand Sea School returned to relative calm.

Ramses' injuries have stabilized, and the ancient beast's massive body is once again slowly swimming in the sea of ​​sand along its fixed path.

The underground magma veins, after being carefully regulated by Salamanda, have also returned to a controllable range.

The gushing lava columns have cooled and solidified, forming strange stone pillars in the desert, standing tall on the yellow sand like the skeletons of prehistoric beasts.

Ron sat on the balcony of his residence, sipping the morning tea that Sarah had prepared, and reflecting on the gains of the past few days.

Although the unexpected geological disaster was fraught with danger, it also gave him a deeper understanding of his own abilities.

In particular, the newly advanced "elemental perturbation" feature has demonstrated amazing tactical value in actual combat.

"Sir, what is your training schedule for today?"

Sarah asked softly, the silver bells at her waist jingling melodiously with her movements.

In the past few days, the snake woman has fully adapted to her new responsibilities and has taken good care of Ron's daily life.

But Ron noticed that there was an indescribable tension that occasionally flashed in her eyes, like a small animal that was always ready to run away.

This subtle reaction piqued his interest.

Ron knew that Sarah seemed to be suppressing something heavy deep inside.

That suppressed emotion was like a volcano that had been dormant for many years, ready to erupt at any moment.

This psychological state often seriously affects a person's judgment and service quality.

"There will be no combat training today."

Ron took a sip of tea and said, seemingly unintentionally:

"Dean Salamander said that Ramses needs more time to recover, so the high-intensity spell training has been suspended."

His gaze swept across the snake woman's face, seemingly casually:

"We could talk about other topics. For example, what are your thoughts on the Burning Scale Clan?"

Sarah's hands, which were arranging the tea set, suddenly stiffened, and the silver bell at her waist trembled slightly.

The tremor was so slight that it would go unnoticed unless one was paying close attention.

"My lord, I... I am but a lowly maid, I dare not speak ill of those important figures..."

Her voice was visibly tense, and her snake tail unconsciously pressed against the ground—a primal reaction of the snake-people when they felt threatened.

"Just chatting casually."

Ron's tone remained gentle, as non-threatening as a spring breeze:
"I heard their bloodline purity is very high? They must be one of the top-tier preserved bacterial families in the main world, right?"

Sarah's hands trembled even more violently, and the crystal teapot nearly slipped from her grasp.

She instinctively looked up, wanting to observe Ron's expression.

But they found that the other person was staring intently at the distant sand dunes, seemingly just having a casual chat.

This contrast made her even more confused and uneasy.

As a "gift" trained by the Burning Scale Clan, Sarah received specialized psychological training, enabling her to keenly perceive the true intentions of others.

But Ron's behavior left her completely baffled.

It was as if he knew something, but it also seemed like he was just asking casually.

"Forget it, these topics are really not suitable for casual conversation."

Just as Sarah was about to explain, Ron easily changed the subject:
"This candied fruit tastes good, where did you buy it?"

Sarah let out a long sigh of relief, and her tense muscles gradually relaxed.

But then, a feeling of confusion began to spread in my heart.

This "push-pull" sensation made her extremely uncomfortable.

It's like standing on the edge of a cliff, only to be gently pulled back.

She didn't know what Ron wanted, and this unknown was more terrifying than a direct threat.

“It was made by a vendor at the Oasis Market, sir.”

She tried to remain calm as she answered questions about the candied fruit, but a huge turmoil was brewing inside her.

………………

The same thing happened again the following evening.

As Sarah prepared dinner for Ron, their conversation inadvertently turned to the various factions of the Shifting Sands.

“Cecilia the Mad Witch…that’s an interesting title.”

Ron paused deliberately, cutting the roast meat on his plate as he said thoughtfully:

Do you think she's really crazy?

These words struck Sarah like a bolt from the blue.

Her pupils contracted noticeably, her snake tail coiled up nervously, and her breathing became rapid.

She knew far too much about Cecilia's truth.

The huge discrepancies between the rumors and reality, the woman's true personality and preferences...

“My lord, regarding Ms. Cecilia, I…”

Her voice trembled, clearly she knew a lot of the inside story, and just as she was about to say something...

"Ha, I was just curious about the rumors."

Ron casually let her off the hook again, and instead began discussing the taste of the food on the table:
"After all, rumors are often unreliable, right? The combination of spices in this stew is very unique, giving it an exotic feel."

Sarah was stunned.

She was mentally prepared to be interrogated and forced to confess, but the other party stopped at the crucial moment again.

This feeling is like an arrow poised to be released suddenly losing its target.

This caused her to be in a state of indescribable imbalance.

………………

This pattern continued to repeat itself in the days that followed.

Each time, Ron would subtly touch upon Sarah's most sensitive topics in seemingly casual conversation.

Discussions about bloodline hierarchy, reflections on slavery, philosophical thoughts on beauty and fate...

Every topic was like a sharp scalpel, precisely cutting into the most vulnerable wounds in her heart.

But whenever Sarah thought she was about to be "dissected," Ron would suddenly steer the conversation to other lighthearted topics, as if everything before was just a coincidence.

This repeated "push and pull" gradually broke down Sarah's psychological defenses.

She began to toss and turn at night, Ron's words echoing in her mind.

She was both afraid of Ron's next "test" and secretly hoped that he would break through the barrier and give her a chance to get out of trouble.

Ron was certainly not so bored as to want to torture a snake woman servant.

He was simply putting into practice the "emotional guidance techniques" he had learned.

Researchers who suppress negative emotions for a long time are prone to making wrong judgments at critical moments due to psychological imbalance.

Therefore, appropriate emotional release is not only a necessity for mental health, but also a necessary condition for maintaining rational thinking.

In each conversation, Ron would touch on Sarah's sensitive topics at the appropriate time, then back off just before she was about to break down.

This technique, known as "emotional massage," aims to allow pent-up negative emotions to erupt all at once during the guided process.

He knew perfectly well that coercion would only make the other party more defensive.

This gentle psychological suggestion can make people unconsciously shed all their pretenses.

Especially for someone like Sarah with a complicated past, the desire to confide is often stronger than the instinct to keep it a secret.

All she needed was the right opportunity.

………………

The opportunity soon arrived.

When Sarah brought the carefully prepared midnight snack to the study, she found him reading a book about the customs of another world.

The page happened to be turned to the chapter on the "slave trade," which described in detail the classification and uses of slaves in various civilizations.

"What an interesting social phenomenon."

Ron said without looking up, his fingers lightly tracing the illustrations on the pages:

"Slaves are often the best gift among the strong, serving as both a symbol of wealth and an extension of power."

These words were like the last straw, breaking Sarah's fragile mental defenses.

The fear, anxiety, and confusion that had accumulated over so many days all erupted at this moment.

"Enough! Lord Ralph!"

Sarah's voice trembled, choked with sobs, and the silver bells jingled chaotically.

"What exactly do you want to know? Do you think it's fun to play with a slave's past? Fine! I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything!"

She carelessly placed the midnight snack on the ground, then trembled as she coiled herself into a ball with her snake tail and curled up.

Ron put down the book in his hand and turned to look at the snake woman who was losing control of her emotions.

His expression showed neither smugness nor indifference, only concern.

"I just feel that you're carrying too much pain inside. Long-term suppression is bad for both your physical and mental health."

His voice remained gentle:

"If you're willing to talk about it, I'd love to listen. Sometimes, simply talking about it is the best therapy."

Sarah looked at him intently and finally understood everything that had happened these past few days.

Ron wasn't toying with her; he was helping her.

In a way she had never experienced before—patient, gentle, and full of wisdom.

“I…” her voice choked with emotion, “I do have so much…so much to say.”

Sarah began to recount her long-buried secrets, like beans pouring from a bamboo tube:

“I am indeed from the Burning Scale Clan, but only from the most peripheral branch.”

Her voice was filled with pain, each word seemingly forced out from her chest:
"At my coming-of-age ceremony at sixteen, my bloodline awakening ritual... failed."

As she began to talk, her words gradually became more fluent:

"In our clan, bloodline purity is everything. Only those who successfully awaken their dragon bloodline are qualified to become official clan members. Losers..."

"...they would be stripped of their surnames and become slaves of the clan. Even children of the direct bloodline were not exempt; this was known as the 'trial of bloodlines'."

The brutal traditions of the Burningscale Clan were revealed to Ron layer by layer, like peeling an onion.

In that ancient and strictly blood-line society, birth determined everything, but the success or failure of bloodline awakening could completely rewrite one's destiny. "But the clan will not waste any 'resources'."

Sarah continued, her tone tinged with a sense of humiliation:
"Unsuccessful people who are ugly or deformed will be sent to do the most dangerous jobs, which is basically equivalent to the death penalty."

"Those with outstanding appearances... will be trained to become various 'gifts' to curry favor with the powerful members of other factions."

Her voice grew softer and softer, as faint as a mosquito's buzz:
"Because I was considered pretty, I was sent to learn... various skills of serving others. Then I was given to Ms. Cecilia as a gift."

Upon hearing this, Ron frowned slightly.

It's not out of sympathy, but because of the irrationality and inefficiency of this social structure.

To him, it was extremely foolish to discard valuable human resources simply because bloodline awakening had failed.

But he did not comment; instead, he continued to listen quietly.

"Ms. Cecilia is not the madwoman that is rumored to be."

Sarah seemed unsure how to describe it:

"She was just a pure... beauty lover."

This unexpected truth piqued Ron's interest.

"She only loves beautiful things. Those invited to share the meeting point are the most handsome men and women in the quicksand. As for those she blasts to death..."

Sarah shook her head with a wry smile:

"It's all because of a bloodline mutation that makes her exceptionally ugly. In her eyes, ugliness is the original sin. She cannot tolerate anything unattractive appearing in her sight."

It turned out to be the case.

Ron silently noted down this important information in his mind.

Cecilia's behavior may seem crazy, but it actually has a clear logic.

This information is extremely valuable for developing contact strategies.

"She was very kind to me because of my appearance."

Sarah's tone became complicated as she recalled her time with Cecilia:

"I only need to provide some simple services—tidying up the room, preparing herbal tea, and watching the sunset with her…like a living decoration."

"Her residence was called the 'Mirror House,' filled with crystal mirrors and fresh flowers. She spent a lot of time dressing herself up every day and demanded that those around her maintain perfect manners."

"But Ms. Cecilia is also extremely fickle."

Sarah's tone turned forlorn:
"In her eyes, everything beautiful has an expiration date. Flowers should be replaced before they wither, jewelry should be discarded when you get tired of wearing it, and people are the same."

"Two years after I was sent there, she got tired of me."

But considering that I had served them fairly diligently, they didn't abandon me outright, but instead sent me to the Desert School.

At this point, a look of gratitude flashed in Sarah's eyes:

"Because of Dean Salamander's presence, the school has a very good atmosphere, and even a slave like me has never been mistreated."

For me, this is the best possible ending.

After listening to Sarah's full account, Ron remained silent for a long time.

It wasn't out of sympathy or anger, but rather to analyze the value and usability of this information.

The internal structure of the Burning Scale Clan, Cecilia's true personality, the network of relationships between various factions in the Shifting Sands...

Every detail is a valuable intelligence resource.

"So that night, when I refused the special services, you breathed a sigh of relief..."

He finally spoke and understood the other person's unusual reaction that day.

"Yes."

Sarah nodded, her face flushed, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible:
“I…I actually have no experience in that area. Ms. Cecilia only treats me as an ornament and would never…make such a request.”

“But when the Burningscale Clan trained me, they taught me a lot of theoretical knowledge, and I’ve always been afraid that one day I’ll be forced to use it.”

Ron suddenly reached out and gently stroked Sarah's head.

This action stunned the snake woman, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Since being abandoned by her clan, she has become accustomed to a life of caution and careful observation.

It had been a long time since anyone had treated her so gently.

"grown ups……"

Sarah choked back tears as she asked, "Will you hate me because of what I came from?"

Why should we feel disgust?

Ron countered with a philosophical undertone:

"Value is not determined by the purity of bloodline, but by your own abilities and character."

"In my view, the bloodline supremacy theory of the Burning Scale Clan is nothing more than a tool for the ruling class to maintain its vested interests."

"What truly determines a person's value is what they can create for the world, not who their ancestors were."

"Including losers like me?" Sarah asked softly.

"Especially people like you."

Ron answered seriously:
"To be able to keep striving in such a difficult situation is a million times more valuable than those fools who abuse their bloodline."

These words completely shattered Sarah's psychological defenses.

Years of suppressed grievances, fears, and inferiority complexes all erupted at this moment.

She buried her face in her arms on the table and wept bitterly. The sound of her silver bells mingled with her sobs, creating a mournful melody in the study.

Ron didn't say anything, he just stayed quietly by her side.

Sometimes, appropriate silence is more powerful than any words.

As Sarah's crying subsided, she felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

Those painful memories that have been suppressed for many years lose most of their hurtful power when they are confided.

"Are you feeling better?" Ron asked gently.

"Much better..." Sarah wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes:

"Thank you, sir. No one has ever listened to me so patiently before."

………………

After that late-night confession, Sarah underwent a subtle yet profound change.

The constant sense of vigilance disappeared, replaced by an unprecedented ease and focus.

She began to see her responsibilities from a completely new perspective.

No longer are they being cautious to avoid punishment, but rather genuinely wanting to do everything well.

As the first rays of morning sunlight streamed into the room through the window, Sarah was already busy in the kitchen.

She no longer mechanically followed the standard procedure to prepare breakfast, but began to make adjustments based on the details she observed.

For example, Ron prefers his tea to be slightly warmer;
For example, he likes to enjoy a moderately sweet snack while reading;
For example, he has a higher sensitivity to spices than the average person...

She quietly kept these subtle preferences in mind and incorporated them into every service she provided.

"My lord, I added a touch of 'Morning Dew Flower,' a unique plant from the Shifting Sands, to today's morning tea."

Sarah gently placed the teacup on the table, the sound of the bells more melodious than ever before.
"It is said to make the mind clearer, which may help with today's training."

Ron took a sip and indeed tasted the refreshing and slightly sweet flavor of the tea, as soothing as nectar.

"It tastes very good." He nodded approvingly.
“You know more about these herbs than I thought.”

“I…” Sarah lowered her head shyly:
"Actually, I learned it secretly. Ms. Cecilia has a large collection of ancient books, many of which contain information on herbal preparations. I read some of them in my spare time..."

"This isn't called stealing knowledge; this is called self-improvement."

Ron corrected him earnestly:

Knowledge is not divided into noble and lowly; anything that is useful should be learned.

And it's remarkable that you maintained your thirst for knowledge in that environment.

Sarah's eyes showed a hint of surprise upon hearing this.

During the Burning Scale Clan era, any "extra" learning was considered a waste of time;

When she was with Cecilia, her value lay only in her appearance; her intelligence was completely ignored.

This was the first time she had heard someone encourage her to study and affirm her efforts.

"Sarah."

Ron hesitated for a moment, then decided to speak frankly about his thoughts:

"You should know that I'll be leaving here around the time of the Elemental Night."

Sarah's smile froze, but quickly returned to normal:
“I know, sir, a wizard of your caliber cannot stay here forever.”

"What are your plans?" Ron asked.

“I…” Sarah bit her lip:

“I want to continue learning. You once said that knowledge is power. Maybe one day I can truly help someone, instead of just serving them tea and water.”

This answer pleased Ron.

After a period of psychotherapy, Sarah has rediscovered her direction and motivation in life.

"Then I have a suggestion."

He took out a thick, ancient book from his storage bag:

"This is the 'Complete Collection of Basic Pharmacology,' which records the properties and uses of thousands of herbs."

Sarah took the book with surprise, feeling the weight of knowledge contained within.

"If you can study these things seriously, you can consider becoming a pharmacist or therapist in the future."

Ron continued:

“Dean Salamander is a very good person. If you show enough talent, he will give you a chance.”

"And..." He took out an exquisite communication crystal from his pocket:

"If you encounter any problems during your studies, you can contact me through this link."

Although I'm not here, I can still answer some basic questions.

Sarah clutched the books and crystal tightly, tears welling up in her eyes again.

(End of this chapter)