Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Ron forcibly suppressed the bitter taste rising in his throat.

"professor."

He stepped forward and respectfully performed a wizard's salute.

His movements were meticulous, just as they had been when he first met the other person at the observation station:
"Welcome back, although... this way of 'coming back' might be a little presumptuous."

"Excuse me?"

Yutel laughed and waved his hand:
"Stop with these empty tricks. Although I am dead, I can still see some of the things happening now through the long river of history."

He looked Ron up and down, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration and pride.
“Dark Sun-class…and such a unique and complex void.”

【Threshold of Darkness】, what a great name!
Observation, concealment, and judgment all in one, tsk tsk... This fusion concept is far superior to my old [Void Remains]."

"You have indeed forged a path entirely of your own, unbound by any established framework."

This is the true spirit of wizards—always exploring, always breaking boundaries, always creating…

At this point, his expression became somewhat wistful:
"I have taught so many students, but only a handful can truly make me proud."

And you, Ron, are the last, and the most special one.

"It's all thanks to the professor's guidance back then."

Ron smiled and recounted:
"Without your explanations of the nature of 'history' and 'astrology' at the observatory, I could not have constructed such a skeletal structure as the 'Threshold of Darkness'."

Its door frame is derived from your 'perspective on time';
Its doors are drawn from my understanding of 'narrative';

Its keyhole represents a completely new possibility born from the fusion of the two…

His tone became serious:
"So now, I need your help."

About the secrets within that 'black box,' about the truth buried deeper within 'Paradise,' about... the words you were unable to finish speaking before you died.

"That's not urgent."

Unexpectedly, Yutel waved his hand.

A mischievous smile spread across his face, just like the expression he had when he was preparing to show his students a "surprise" back then:
"Now that you've awakened me, do you only want to treat me as a talking notebook?"
That would be a gross underestimation of the value of the "mystic."

He turned around, his illusory finger making a light sweep in the air.

An invisible wave of magical energy spread out, and the air in the secret room began to tremble slightly, as if some deeper power was being triggered.

"As you know, I was a occultist in my previous life, and the core of my research was the mystery of 'history' and 'time'."

Yutel's voice deepened:
“For people like us, death… is sometimes just another form of ‘record’.”

"The body decays and the soul dissipates, but knowledge, experience, memory... these abstract 'information' can be preserved permanently in the long river of history in some way."

"I am now essentially a piece of 'information' forcibly extracted from history."

The edges of the projection flickered, making it look exceptionally unreal.
“Since it’s a projection… that means I can do things that a ‘living person’ can’t do.”

Yutel's expression turned serious.

Although it's a semi-transparent projection, this makes it look a bit like a flickering image due to poor signal.
“Ron, your magic power is now enormous, large enough to support some rather ‘luxurious’ actions.”

“Generally speaking, summoning and maintaining a historical projection of a great wizard like me is enough to drain all the magic power of an ordinary Dark Sun wizard.”

“But you are different. Your Dark Threshold seems to connect the Astral Plane and the Abyss, possessing a terrifying supply of magic power... This gives us an excellent opportunity.”

"Okay."

His smile was full of fervor for knowledge:
"What I'm about to teach you is the true application of historical projection!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Yutel's projection began to emit strong fluctuations!
The sensation was completely different from the feeling when Ron summoned him.

If what we were doing before was "looking back," it was about carefully salvaging a submerged memory from the long river of history.

Now, he's "looking further ahead"!
Starting from itself as an "anchor point" and using its already blurred consciousness as a probe, it once again extended its tentacles into that vast and boundless river of history!
Silver-gray mist surged from Yutel's projection, swirling and condensing in the air, outlining distorted clock symbols.

"In my name, I call forth the shadow of the Third Age!"

Yutel's voice became grand at this moment, as if a million voices were speaking at the same time:
"Come out, old friend! Let me see if your fire is still burning brightly!"

Space was distorted to its extreme at this moment!
Ron could clearly observe that a rift had appeared in space!
That rift connects to a deeper, more distant, and even more untouchable abyss of history.

Then, next to Yutel, another, more blurry and illusory figure, as if it were about to collapse at any moment, slowly emerged!
It was a half-dwarf whose body was wreathed in crimson flames, whose muscles were as hard as rock, and who wielded an iron hammer!

As the figure gradually solidified, Ron was able to discern its highly recognizable features:
Alchemists' protective goggles hung on their foreheads;

The apron was covered with scorch marks from various molten metal slags;
At least twenty different types of tools hung from his waist, each emitting a faint magical fluctuation.
Most importantly, there was a burning rune on his chest—the emblem of the Third Age's "Alchemy Guild"!

"This……"

Eve was completely stunned.

"Projection... summoned a projection?!"

"In theory, this is called 'multiple historical nesting'."

Yutel's voice sounded somewhat tired.

His figure had noticeably dimmed, like a candle flame flickering in the wind after its oil has burned out.
“As an ‘anchor point,’ I can help you draw people from deeper historical sources.”

I can try to pull aside any historical figure I know or have studied in depth for a short period of time to "work overtime."

"Although they are more 'fragmented' than me, and may not even be able to speak in complete sentences..."

He looked at the projection of the dwarf master and patted him on the shoulder:
"But their knowledge is undoubtedly true."

Their skills, their experience, the wisdom they accumulated throughout their lives… all are sealed away in some corner of history, waiting to be awakened once more.

Ron's brain was working at high speed at that moment, and he immediately realized the true strategic value of this "BUG"!
Use it to fight?
Such a waste!

Although in theory he could summon legendary alien warriors, wizards, or even fallen beings from the abyss...

Let them recreate their former glory on the battlefield, and even form an immortal legion composed of "historical ghosts"!

Sounds great, right?
But just as the dwarf master appeared, Ron could feel the magic power within his body pouring out like a flood bursting its banks!

The feeling was like someone had opened a giant siphon on him, drawing away all his energy at an unimaginable speed!
Maintaining Yutel is already a huge drain, a drain that is like feeding a small magic furnace;
Now, it is Yutel who maintains another, older, more distant, and more obscure existence.

The "loss rate" in this process increases exponentially!

He was using one thin thread to pull another thin thread, and then using the second thin thread to pull a huge rock.

With each additional layer of transfer, the loss increases exponentially!
If it were an ordinary Dark Sun-class magic user, they would probably run out of magic power in just a few minutes under this level of extraction!

Just like now, the resources used for combat are too great!

Maintaining a projection at the level of Yutel already requires a continuous draining of his magic power;

If you want to summon multiple combat-oriented historical projections, you also need to maintain their "solidity" to enable them to exert their combat capabilities...

Even someone like him, a pseudo-"infinite energy source," would be dragged down to the point where his magic cycle couldn't keep up, eventually leading to his exhaustion and death!

More importantly, the combat power of projection is ultimately limited!

They are merely "echoes of memory," not real entities.

Faced with a truly formidable enemy, these historical ghosts will soon burst and vanish like bubbles...

Therefore, its combat use is limited to occasional surprise attacks and is by no means an unconventional fighting force!

Its true use is—learning!
Thinking of this, Ron began to feel the magic power stored in his body being rapidly depleted, and his brows furrowed slightly.

The next second, the [Threshold of Darkness] deep within his soul trembled slightly!
The "mysterious door," which was usually tightly closed, opened a crack at this moment.

Emerging from the crack in the door were energy channels connecting to the endless star realm and the depths of the chaotic sea!

A vast amount of energy, as if the entire universe were breathing, flowed back into this channel!

Ron's body became a "transfer station" at this moment.

The pure magic of the astral plane, the primal power of the chaotic sea, and his own composite energy refined by the [Threshold of Darkness].

The three elements merged and transformed within his body, then filled the gap in magic with astonishing efficiency!

Not only was it filled in, but there was even a surplus!

"Oh?"

Yutel glanced at Ron in surprise, and exclaimed with a sense of "the younger generation is truly formidable":
"They actually held on, and without even changing their expression?"

Although you were already extraordinary during the Morning Star and Lunar stages, it seems you've now completely evolved into a 'monster'.

"With you as our 'infinite energy source,' we old folks might actually be able to contribute a little more."

His smile held a hint of melancholy.
"Although we can no longer create new history..."

The old man looked at Ron and Eve:
"But at least... it can help you go further."

"professor."

Ron's eyes were frighteningly bright.

"Can you summon that half-elf scholar from the Second Age who dedicated himself to the study of 'Enchanting'?"

I remember his name was... Erilong Yuege?
It is said that he applied the principle of 'elemental resonance' to the field of enchanting, creating 'active runes' that can evolve on their own..."

His words came out like a machine gun, unstoppable:
"Or perhaps that legendary engineer who improved thirty alloy formulas, Grimpo Gear?"

His invention of the 'phase transformation alloy' technology is said to allow metals to exhibit completely different properties at different temperatures..."

"And that ancient alchemist who created the prototype of 'variable alchemy'!"
Although his theories were considered heretical at the time, if combined with my current 'narrative potion science'..."

Yutel was stunned.

He blinked, and the projected face showed a look of bewilderment, as if he were both laughing and crying.

"You little rascal, you've got quite the appetite!"

"Do you want to turn the entire history into your private library and mentorship group?"

"Why not?"

Ron countered with a question.

"What I lack most right now is time."

"In potions, I have reached the level of [Potion Professor], and I can say that I have established a firm foothold in this field."

"But what about alchemy? Enchanting? Bloodline manipulation?"

He spread his hands, and a faint starlight appeared in his palms.

The starlight outlines a complex three-dimensional shape—a concrete representation of his "knowledge system":
"In these areas, I can only be considered 'proficient' at the moment."

While better than most professionals, there's still a long way to go before becoming a true 'master'.

“At the normal pace of cultivation, it might take me decades or even centuries to fully integrate this knowledge.”

"But history..."

He looked at Yutel, his eyes burning with intensity:
What history has in abundance is the wisdom accumulated over time!

"The experience and skills accumulated by those sages who reached the pinnacle in their respective fields, over a lifetime or even several eras, are all sealed away in some corner of history!"

"If I can learn directly from them, it's like standing on the shoulders of countless giants!"

"This is not taking shortcuts, on the contrary..."

Ron's voice became low and solemn:
"Isn't this the best tribute to 'tradition'?"

"Let the wisdom that should have been forgotten see the light of day again;"

May those masters who died alone find successors who truly understand them in the future.

"So that knowledge will not be lost with the death of individuals..."

"This is the true meaning of historical research!"

Yutel waved his hand:
"What a greedy boy. Well then, let's do as you say."

"Create your own history in your own way."

"We old folks..."

He looked at his translucent palm, his tone tinged with self-mockery:
"Just stay on the 'bookshelf' and wait for you to come and read it anytime."

Ron already had a clear plan in mind!

He wanted to use Yutel as a "super intermediary" to systematically learn from the great sages of history "one-on-one"!
First is alchemy; he needs to learn the core techniques of the alchemy masters of the Second Age, the "Golden Age."
How to precisely control the element ratio?

How to identify the "hidden properties" of materials?
How to build a stable "conversion matrix"?
This fundamental yet crucial knowledge will lay the most solid foundation for him!
Next is [Enchanting], where he will learn from the ancient enchanters who perfectly combined "runes" and "will":
How can we make runes not just "carved" on the surface of an object, but "grow" into the essence of the object?
How can enchantment effects be made to evolve as the user progresses?
How can we break through the limitations of traditional enchanting's "fixed effects" and create truly "living" items?

Finally, by integrating all of this, he aimed to challenge the almost lost profession of the Ancient Alchemist.

"but……"

Ron suddenly thought of something

"Professor, this kind of 'multiple nested' summoning is taking a toll on you..."

"it's not a big deal."

Yutel waved his hand, interrupting his worries:
“I am just a ‘remnant’, long dead. The more I consume now, the faster this ‘echo’ will dissipate.”

"Rather than being displayed like an ornament in a crystal box, I would prefer..."

He looked out of the secret chamber, as if he could see through the layers of walls to the vast and possible world outside:
"Do something meaningful before you disappear completely."

"Moreover……"

He smiled slyly:
"Your magical reserves are so monstrous, I'd feel it's a waste not to drain you dry!"

But at that moment, Yutel's projection dimmed considerably, almost turning into a faint glow that could go out at any moment.

"It seems..."

He hurriedly returned the half-dwarf projection he had summoned to the "river of history," and weakly bent down:
"This 'job' is more tiring than I imagined."

"Grandpa Yutel!"

Eve stepped forward with concern:
"you……"

"Nothing."

Yutel waved his hand:
"He just needs a rest. Ron, remember... don't summon too many at once."

My old bones can't take this kind of abuse.

"clear."

Ron nodded solemnly:
“I will make reasonable arrangements, and…”

He looked at the faintly glowing remnant of the stasis chamber:
"After each summoning, I will use magic to nurture your remains, extending its 'time' as much as possible."

"very good."

Yutel smiled with satisfaction:
"Well then... let's stop here for now."

"The next time you summon me..."

His form began to gradually dissipate, and his voice became increasingly faint.
"Remember to choose a daytime day... I also want to... see the sun again..."

As the last word fell, the light completely dissipated.

In the secret chamber, only Ron and Eve remained, along with the illusory remains that floated silently in the crystal box.

Ron took a deep breath and turned to look at Eve:
"Let's go, today's summoning costs are much higher than I expected."

"I need to rest well and then make a detailed 'study plan'."

"The treasure trove of history has been opened to me."

"Next... it's harvest time!"

………………

In the secluded room, Ron sat alone at the old oak desk. The candlelight flickered, casting a solitary shadow on the wall.

He slowly opened the parchment notebook at the deepest part of the drawer. It was a "to-do list" he had written eighteen years ago on the eve of the Golden Ring assessment.

The edges of the paper were yellowed and gave off a musty smell.

Ron took out a quill pen, dipped the tip in deep red ink, and drew red lines on several lines of text:
[Golden Ring Assessment ( )]

[Promoted to Dark Sun Rank ( )]

[Welcoming back the professor's illusory remains ( ) )

But Ron stopped when the pen tip reached the last line.

The line of text was circled in ink, but it could never be crossed out:

[To be done: Return to the Kingdom of Farouk to examine my father's health; the future of the family also needs to be re-planned]

"Father……"

The word slipped softly from his lips.

Eighteen years.

For wizards, this period of time is merely a brief pause on their path of spiritual practice.

However, for those who remain in the mortal world, eighteen years means their black hair turns white.

It signifies the transition from middle age to old age, with the flame of life burning from its most vibrant moment to a flickering candle in the wind.

As Ron pushed open the secret door to the secret room and stepped onto the spiral staircase leading to the main hall.

He was surprised to see a figure sitting quietly on the sofa.

Chloe the Blind Witch.

She was still wearing that simple astrology robe, and a cup of tea was placed on the coffee table in front of her.

The tea had long since gone cold, indicating that she had been waiting for quite some time.

"Chloe?"

Ron's voice was filled with undisguised surprise.

He quickly walked down the last few steps:
"You need something from me? Is it about that new prophecy regarding the 'singularity'?"

“No, Associate Professor Ron.”

Chloe did not get up.

The witch's empty eye sockets "stared" in Ron's direction.

Her expression was more serious than ever before, her lips pressed into a tight, straight line:

“I’m here about a more urgent, and more…fragile ‘now’.”

These words made Ron stop in his tracks.

He suddenly realized that every word Chloe had chosen had been carefully considered.

"Now," a tense that is more imminent than "future";
"Fragile" is a word that implies something about to break.

"The moment you ascended to the Dark Sun level and publicly announced your return in the Temple of Truth..."

Chloe's voice was steady and clear, as if stating a given fact:
"This message was transmitted back to your homeland, the Kingdom of Farouk, through the wizard's communication device, overcoming all obstacles."

Ron had a bad feeling and had a rough idea of ​​what the other party wanted.

He remembered.

The Wizarding Directory of the School Alliance is updated synchronously across a wide area, and any faction associated with wizards will be notified.

His family, as nobles dependent on wizards, would undoubtedly be among the first to receive this "good news."

“I have been ‘observing’ the thread of your destiny.”

Chloe continued:
"Of all your causal threads, there is one that is always connected to the 'mortal world'."

Unlike the other lines that extend into other worlds, abysses, and spirit realms, which are thick and bright, this one appears thin and dim, like a spider's web that might break at any moment.

She stretched out her hand and gently traced a path in the air, as if drawing a trajectory that only she could "see":

"That line represents your bloodline and family."

“Your father, Archduke Ralph the Elder.”

Chloe's tone softened, yet became heavier:
"His life should have been extinguished years ago."

Heart failure, arteriosclerosis, organ decay... these are all irreversible natural processes.

"But he stubbornly persevered."

Her "gaze" seemed to pierce through the walls and through space, looking towards the distant Kingdom of Farouk:

"With a kind of 'obsession' that is purely human, they forcibly kept that dying flame of life alive."

Yes, just as you thought.

Chloe noticed the change in the wizard's expression and whispered what she had observed:
"He was waiting for news, news of whether his son had returned safely, nothing more."

Ron felt a tightness in his throat.

He tried to say something, but found that his vocal cords were being pinched and he couldn't make a sound.

"Just yesterday."

Chloe stood up: "He got what he wanted."

"He knows that you are not only safe and sound, but have even reached a height that he could never have imagined."

Her voice carried a sense of compassion, the kind of emotion unique to a prophet witnessing destiny:

So, his last obsession... crumbled, and the last thread holding him together finally loosened.

“Associate Professor Ron, I ‘see’ that the ‘mortal causal line’ connecting you is becoming thinner and dimmer at a visible speed.”

"It is dissipating."

"Like the last star before dawn, being swallowed by the approaching light."

She took a deep breath and stated her final conclusion in an almost cruelly blunt manner:
"Your father is about to die, within the next few hours."

This news was like a bucket of ice water poured over Ron's head, extinguishing all his excitement and anticipation about the "History Library".

He was just thrilled to be able to systematically learn from the ancient masters.

At this moment, only a bone-chilling coldness remained, climbing up my spine to my brain.

“I have to go back!”

The thought flashed through his mind like lightning.

Ron instinctively mobilized the magic power within his body, and the [Threshold of Darkness] appeared faintly behind him.

Starlight began to gather around him, and the texture of space softened under his will.

He only needs to push one more step to tear apart the spatial barrier...

But at this critical moment.

"Stop! Are you crazy?!"

Azalea's cold voice exploded like a thunderclap deep within his consciousness!
A silver dragon soul projection suddenly emerged from Ron's mental sea, its golden vertical pupils filled with warning and anxiety:

"Have you forgotten what you are now?!"
Do you think you can still 'come home' like an ordinary son?!

Almost at the same time, another thought was transmitted.

"My darling! You can't see those mortals! Absolutely not!"

Nari's voice was choked with sobs, and countless tentacles waved anxiously in his mental space:

"The 'scent' on you... will melt those small, fragile mortals!"

Mom doesn't want to see you sad, doesn't want to see you in pain... Please, listen to Mom..."

Ron froze in place.

The magic that had gathered halfway suddenly stopped, like a frozen waterfall, suspended in mid-air, unable to move forward or backward.

A terrifying image flashed through his mind:

He appeared at his father's bedside, eager to hold those aged hands.

But the moment they touched, those hands began to disintegrate.

The skin curled and carbonized like parchment scorched by high temperatures; the flesh boiled and evaporated under the invisible radiation; and the bones twisted and shattered in extreme pain...

The old man who was so proud of him would turn into a pile of charred ashes in front of his son, filled with extreme pain and fear.

"Do not……"

The syllable was squeezed out from between Ron's teeth, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

“Listen to me, Ron.”

Aseria explained this cruel reality in the most rational way:

"You have completely transformed."

Your current level of existence is completely different from that of the young wizard at the Moon-level eighteen years ago.

She projected the reflection of the other's ethereal form:

"Your [Dark Threshold] is the anchor point between order and chaos."

It connects to the pure magic of the astral plane, and also to the primordial chaos of the abyss.

This connection grants you a near-infinite supply of magic, but it also turns you into a 'walking singularity.'

"You've been immersed in the fifth layer of the abyss for a full eighteen years!"

Acelia's voice became even harsher:
"Every second there is reshaping your essence with chaotic radiation."

You think you've just become stronger? Wrong! You're transforming from a 'human' into a 'supernatural being'!

"The blood flowing beneath your skin is no longer ordinary blood; it is an energy carrier tempered by both starlight and chaos!"

"With every breath you take, you inhale the magic of the astral plane and exhale the fluctuations of chaos!"

"Your very existence is an 'accelerator,' speeding up the collapse or evolution of everything around you!"

The dragon soul's voice carried a hint of sorrow:

"For some slightly stronger apprentices or bloodline knights, you can suppress the radiation and only make them feel uncomfortable. But for mortals..."

Nari added in a more straightforward and vivid way:

"My baby is like a big sun! Those little snowflakes (mortals) will evaporate as soon as they get close!"

Her tentacles trembled, and her voice was full of pleading:

"They will 'collapse'... First, their skin will start to ulcerate, then their internal organs will fail, and finally even their bones will turn to dust in extreme pain..."

"And your father..."

Nari's voice was almost choked with emotion:
"He was already in critical condition, and his body was more fragile and sensitive than that of an ordinary person."

As long as you appear within his perception range, maybe for a few seconds... no, perhaps a few breaths, he will..."

She couldn't speak anymore.

What a cruel paradox!
Ron has the right to make his father proud, but he can't let his father witness that pride in person.

He was finally able to go home, only to find that "home" had become a forbidden place for him.

Ron stood in the center of the main hall, frozen like a statue.

When Chloe saw the man in pain before her, she offered neither words of comfort nor solace.

As an astrologer, she knew all too well.

Sometimes, offering words of comfort only makes things worse.

"Make a decision quickly, the star trail is falling."

Her gaze was fixed on the window, as if she could see the invisible trajectories of fate in the sky:
"According to my observation, you only have a few hours left. If you want to see him one last time, you must leave immediately."

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly in that instant.

Ron closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, all his emotional fluctuations had vanished.

His gaze became as deep, cold, and unfathomable as the door on the chest of the [Dark Threshold].

Only reason, absolute reason.

"I understand."

"Chloe, thank you for coming to inform me. I will remember this kindness."

Chloe nodded slightly and turned to leave, the hem of her robe brushing against the floor with a soft rustling sound.

The sound echoed in the empty main hall, like the prelude to some kind of elegy.

As the door closed gently, Ron turned to the depths of his consciousness and spoke to the two anxious souls:
"Just watching from a distance... it should be fine, right?"

This statement softened the tone of both Nari and Azalea.

"If it's just for viewing from a distance..."

Acelia pondered for a moment:

"Maintain a distance of at least 500 meters, do not stay for more than 15 minutes, and do not release any magical fluctuations... Theoretically, the effects of radiation can be minimized."

"But baby..."

Nari's voice remained filled with worry:
“After you leave, that place may be left with ‘pollution’.”

Those ordinary people living nearby may gradually develop various strange symptoms over the next few years.

"I'll handle it."

Ron interrupted her:

"I will thoroughly 'purify' the surrounding environment before leaving."

Even if some traces are left, they will be diluted to a harmless level.

And as Chloe left completely, his voice finally began to reveal some genuine emotions:

“Acelia, Mom. I can’t hug him, I can’t hold his hand, I can’t hear his last words…”

"But I want to watch him from afar."

“I have already missed Professor Utter’s last lecture.”

Ron clenched his fist:
“This time, I absolutely cannot, and should never, be absent from my father’s death.”

In the secluded room, he began preparing for this "farewell".

He found the simplest black cloak and put it in his storage bag.

The cloak was extremely simple in design, without any runes or alchemical enhancements; it was just a plain black cloth.

This is the one he wore when he left home to become a full-fledged wizard.

At that time, he was full of hope for the future and embarked on his journey to the Central Land with almost no regrets.

Now, he will wear the same cloak and return as an ordinary wanderer to attend a funeral. (End of Chapter)