Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

The tearing of space was as swift and decisive as a giant beast snapping its spine.

Ron was like a leaf thrown into the center of a whirlpool, tumbling and falling into the depths of the right-hand passage.

The wind howled in my ears, mixed with countless fragmented whispers.

The sounds emanating from the "face puzzle" on the floor became even more frantic and distorted at this moment.

Some people are crying, some are laughing, and some are cursing something in a forgotten ancient language.

"boom!"

The body collided with a solid surface.

Ron instinctively activated the power of [Dark Threshold] to buffer the impact, and the nascent form of the ethereal body flashed behind him. The tightly closed door trembled slightly, absorbing the aftershocks of the impact.

He knelt on one knee and slowly raised his head.

The scene before him confirmed all his previous worries.

The extent of the park's collapse was far more severe than anticipated.

The corridor floor has lost all sense of "integrity".

Those once densely pieced-together faces are now melting at a visible speed, much like the devastation after a wax museum fire.

Those metal frames formed the actual "foundation".

The black steel beams and columns crisscrossed, their surfaces covered with scarlet rust, and in some places, they had corroded into honeycomb-like holes.

The condition of the walls was even more shocking.

Those cracks that were once just oozing blood have now turned into completely gaping wounds.

"This is no longer just a 'prison'."

"It's more like... a ripped wound, with the internal organs exposed and slowly rotting."

He took cautious steps forward.

The boots stomped on the melting face, making a sickening crunching sound.

The metal frame beneath my feet groaned and creaked under the weight, and in some places it even began to bend downwards, as if it might break at any moment.

On both sides of the corridor, the "wounds" of the originally sealed cells continued to widen.

The edges of those wounds were jagged, as if they had been torn open from the inside by some kind of wild beast.

The internal "dreams" are no longer confined; they leak out like pus, condensing into a translucent, foamy substance in the air.

As Ron passed by a wound, he saw a bizarre banquet taking place inside.

A dozen or so figures dressed in fine clothes sat around the long table, their movements perfectly synchronized.

At the same time, they raise their glasses, open their mouths, chew the air, and put down their cutlery.

The food on the table kept switching between rotten and fresh. One second the roast chicken was golden and tempting, the next it was crawling with maggots, and the next second it was back to normal.

He quickened his pace.

This is not a place to linger.

Just then, something unusual caught my eye at the edge of the line of sight, on a relatively intact wall.

To say it's "complete" is only relative; at least the wall hasn't completely collapsed into fragments, and a symbol is emitting a faint purple glow.

Ron stopped and stared at the symbol.

An inverted crown with seven stars arranged in a specific orbit inside.

The starlight flickers and fades like the breath of the stars.

He'd seen that symbol before.

………………

Eighteen years ago, on the eve of seclusion in the fifth layer of the abyss
Ron sat at his desk, piled high with research notes, doing the final tidying up.

Tomorrow he will be heading to the fifth level of the abyss for a long-term seclusion, and these notes will be important reference materials for him for the next ten years or so.

His fingers turned the pages of the parchment, making final annotations on the chapter on "Chaotic Adaptation Theory".

Just as he was about to close the notebook, the space suddenly "dented".

This feeling is extremely subtle, like someone gently pressing on the canvas of the world, leaving an "indentation" that is invisible to the naked eye but perceptible to the soul.

Ron's hand suddenly pressed down on the storage bag at his waist.

Inside are several items given by the King of Absurdity—the "Transcendental Solution," the "Paradox Dice," and the mysterious "Theatrical Ticket."

Activating any one of them will attract the attention of that "King".

"Don't be nervous, young man."

A voice came from the darkness:
"If I wanted to hurt you, you wouldn't have the chance to press the storage bag now."

The air in the center of the sealed room began to distort.

What Ron saw was not something "appearing".

Conversely, only when something "disappears" does the missing outline naturally form a human figure.

"Ron Ralph."

The outline opening formed by the "missing" parts:
“I am the ‘Nameless One,’ we’ve met before.”

Ron's pupils suddenly contracted.

"A dignified quasi-Witch King..."

He remained vigilant, and although his hand no longer pressed towards the storage bag, his mental energy was already secretly gathering:
"I cannot let my guard down, for someone would dare to visit the residence of a Moonlight-level junior wizard so late at night."

"Intelligent caution".

The laughter of the nameless man seemed to come from all directions at once:

“That’s exactly what I admire about you—being alert enough without overreacting; remaining skeptical without losing your mind out of fear.”

His profile was slightly tilted, as if he were bowing:

"Let me first address your main concerns."

I was subject to three restrictions:
First, one must not initiate any form of attack.

Second, certain secrets that are 'marked' as taboo cannot be directly revealed;
Third, one must not approach the core area of ​​the central region.

"So you see."

His silhouette, with outstretched arms, conveyed a sense of helpless irony:
"I'm like a lion scorpion with its venomous bark clipped, its claws and teeth pulled out, and its body shackles weakened. I can't harm any creature except to scare people."

Ron didn't completely relax, but he at least withdrew some of his mental energy:

“The triple restrictions sound thorough, but there are always loopholes.”

"Of course there are loopholes."

A hint of relief crept into the nameless man's voice:
“Every system has vulnerabilities; the key is whether you can exploit them without triggering the penalty mechanism.”

And I... have found some.

His silhouette moved slowly in the sealed room, each step seeming to glide through the folds of space:

"For example, if the restriction says I can't 'directly reveal' certain secrets, then what about 'indirectly implying' them?"

"Use metaphors, allegories, and methods that require the listener to reason for understanding?"

"For example, if the restriction says I can't 'take the initiative to attack,' then does causing injury to the other party during passive defense count? Does providing intelligence that leads others to take dangerous actions count?"

"All rules are just word games."

An unnamed figure stood by the window, the edges of his silhouette blending with the moonlight.

"And I spent an entire era figuring out how to play this game in that godforsaken place called Paradise."

Ron was silent for a moment, then went straight to the core question:
"Why did you come to me?"

"Straightforward, I like that."

The nameless man turned around, and although Ron couldn't see his expression, he could feel the scrutiny in him.

“A month ago, the End of Death defied the wishes of the other great beings… well, at least the King of Absurdity and the King of Record, and forcibly released three prisoners from Paradise.”

"Norman Davenport, the mad scholar who pursued the truth of history."

"Elena Moonshine, the ancient alchemist who wanted to heal the world."

"And me, the 'loser' who almost became the Witch King."

His voice became like an echo from the bottom of an abyss:

"The stated reasons are high-sounding: 'The park needs to be maintained to reduce its load,' 'Give prisoners a chance to reform,' and 'Promote the recirculation of knowledge.'"

The Truth Court's parliamentary report was so beautifully written, it was almost moving to tears.

"But in fact..."

The nameless man paused for a long time, so long that Ron thought he had triggered some kind of restriction.

Then, the voice continued in an extremely cautious manner:

"That great being who holds the power of death is playing a game of chess of unimaginable scale."

What He needs is not the sentimental drama of us returning to society and contributing our remaining energy.

On the contrary, He needs us 'variables' to create things from the outside world…

He used a more subtle way of putting it:

"...the possibility of disrupting the existing balance."

Ron frowned.

This statement is clear enough: the purpose of releasing prisoners at the end of death is to create chaos.

"why?"

"Because for Him, 'stability' is equivalent to 'stagnation'."

The nameless man walked back to the center of the secret room, his outline becoming even more blurred in the candlelight:

"Let me explain it in a way you can understand. Do you know what Epoch Reboot is?"

"Know something."

Ron nodded:

“Every so often, the wizarding civilization undergoes a large-scale upheaval and reorganization.”

Sometimes it's an invasion by a foreign enemy, sometimes an internal war, sometimes some kind of uncontrollable natural disaster... The result is often the loss of vast amounts of knowledge, a reshuffling of power, and a reshaping of the rules.

“Very good, this must be the version that those ‘kings’ who have high hopes for you have told you.”

The nameless man's tone was sarcastic:

"Now let me tell you the parts they won't tell you directly."

Each time an era restarts, demon gods and certain of the oldest sorcerer kings gain tremendous... opportunities for advancement.

"Power will be reshuffled in the chaos."

"Power will be rebuilt from the ashes."

"The 'underlying code' of the entire world will temporarily become 'editable,' allowing those at the top to modify the rules themselves."

His voice was very low:

You can think of it as a regular 'system update'.

Most people will only be affected, but administrators with access can take the opportunity to modify parameters, grant additional privileges, and even... install backdoors.

Ron felt a chill run down his spine.

If the epoch restart mechanism is indeed like this, then for ordinary wizards, every restart is a disaster;
But for the great ones, it is indeed a rare opportunity for "upgrading".

"The end of death is the last one to ascend to the status of a demon god."

The nameless man continued:

"He became a demon god less than two thousand years after the last era restart."

In other words, He never fully experienced a reboot as a 'demon god'.

"For other demons, the current 'order' is a system they have carefully constructed through multiple restarts."

Everyone has their own little corner of the world, and their own unshakeable core authority.

"But for the end of death..."

His features suddenly contorted, as if expressing some intense emotion:
The current 'order' is actually a constraint.

His authority, though powerful, was like being crammed into a room already overcrowded with people; there were restrictions everywhere, and compromises were required at every turn.

"So He is pushing things forward in secret, hoping to accelerate the arrival of the next restart."

"Releasing the three of us is one of the moves in this game."

Ron silently processed this information.

If what the nameless man said is true, then the seemingly peaceful wizard civilization is actually standing on the edge of a volcano.

Those at the very top are secretly vying for power, pushing forward or preventing the next reboot.

"You mentioned that the park's maintenance needs to reduce its workload."

He asked the question from a different angle:

"How much of this reason is true?"

"About 30% is true, and 70% is a lie."

The anonymous person's answer was unexpectedly frank:
"The park is indeed 'operating beyond capacity,' that's no lie. But the reason isn't too many prisoners, it's actually..."

He carefully considered his wording once again:

"The functions of the park go far beyond what appears to be a 'prison' on the surface."

It is actually one of the core nodes of the entire wizarding civilization's 'sealing system'.

“Some of those beings imprisoned in the depths can no longer be considered ‘prisoners’; they are more like ‘sacrifices’ or ‘batteries’.”

"Their very existence provides energy or stability to a larger system."

Ron's breathing became heavy.

"If the park collapses..."

"Those things that were sealed away will flow back into the world."

The voice of the nameless is more serious than ever before:
"Including but not limited to: forgotten taboo knowledge, conceptual viruses that distort reality, and those... 'relics' that should not exist in this era."

"At that time, chaos will come uninvited."

“The end of death is just the perfect opportunity to ‘maintain order’ amidst the chaos and expand one’s power.”

His silhouette cast a deep shadow in the secret room:
"A perfect plan, isn't it?"

Ron fell into deep thought.

These words contain a wealth of information, and each point touches upon the most hidden mechanisms of this world.

If this is true, then he must be extremely cautious with every step he takes from here on out;

If it's fake, then what is the real purpose of this "nameless person" in front of us?
"you have not answer my question yet."

He looked up and stared directly at the outline formed by "missing" features:

"Why did you come to find me? Why me?"

"Because I've been observing you for a long time."

The anonymous person's answer was simple and direct:
“I’ve been watching you ever since you first showed your talent at the observatory, since you founded ‘Narrative Potions’, since you demonstrated extraordinary wisdom during the Golden Ring assessment…”

"You're the kind of person..."

He seemed to be searching for a suitable metaphor:
"A person who can find loopholes within the rules without being swallowed by them."

"You're smart enough to know when to move forward and when to retreat."

"You are cautious enough not to blindly trust information from any single source."

"What attracts me most is..."

The nameless man's tone became meaningful:

"You're still young, your path hasn't been solidified, and your stance hasn't been completely bound to a certain camp... Oh, that Clown King might barely qualify as one."

However, He was originally a hated figure whom almost all great beings avoided, so He doesn't need to be included.

Overall, you still retain the freedom to 'choose'.

"This kind of freedom is a luxury for an old guy like me."

An annoying person? How could an annoying person become the "ruling witch king"?
There was definitely a lot hidden in the other person's words...

However, Ron understood what he meant.

The anonymous person needs a collaborator who can move freely in the outside world without being restricted or influenced.

"what do you want to do?"

"It's very simple."

The nameless man took out a crystal from somewhere:
"In my last moments of freedom before my release, I left some...marks in the park."

The crystal floated in the air, its interior containing a symbol of an inverted crown.

"These markers can help you find valuable items in a park while avoiding the most dangerous traps."

"There's very little I can do; those limitations prevent me from interfering too much directly."

But you can choose whether or not to use these 'keys'.

"In exchange..."

The nameless man's voice suddenly softened, taking on an almost imperceptible vulnerability:

"I hope that you will be able to protect the few remaining descendants of my family in the future."

They don't know their true identity, nor that they are my bloodline... What if one day I trigger a restriction and am forcibly 'reclaimed,' or get involved in something even worse?"

"Please help them, so that they can at least continue to live safely."

The request was surprisingly ordinary.

Ron had expected the other party to make some grand demands, but it turned out to be just a simple wish... to protect his family.

This, in turn, made him feel that the request was genuine.

“I can agree.”

He nodded slowly:
"But I need to confirm that your family descendants... won't become pawns in some game, right?"

"I myself have no direct descendants; at most, they inherited some of my sister's bloodline."

The nameless man smiled bitterly:
"Moreover, my true power comes from my understanding of space, something that cannot be inherited."

Therefore, they have no value to be exploited by any force, so you don't need to worry about that.

Ron carefully put the crystal away.

"And one more thing."

The nameless man suddenly raised his voice, a raise that carried a clear warning:
"You may have the opportunity to touch the threshold of the Witch King in the future."

As mentioned earlier, becoming the Witch King... comes at a price that no ordinary wizard can afford.

His silhouette cast a distorted shadow in the secret room:
“Every Witch King is essentially a ‘character wearer’.”

Once you put on the costume, you must act according to the script. If you act well, the power is yours.
The performance was poorly executed, or the actor 'broke out of character' too many times…

You will find that you are no longer yourself.

These words reminded Ron of the "ticket" and Hector's limitation of only three chances to "exit the play."

The three chances given to me by the other party undoubtedly carried even greater weight.

"Remember these words."

The outline of the nameless man began to fade:
"When you stand in front of that door, think carefully: are you really willing to exchange 'yourself' for 'power'?"

The last sentence vanished into thin air, and the nameless man's silhouette disappeared completely, as if he had never been there.

Only the crystal remained, lying quietly in Ron's palm.

………………

As the tide of memory recedes, reality refocuses.

Ron remained standing in front of the wall, staring at the symbol of the inverted crown.

The words spoken by the anonymous man eighteen years ago now echo in my ears, carrying a completely new meaning.

He reached out and touched the symbol with his fingertips.

"Om..."

The symbol suddenly lit up, and purple light spread along the wall like a living thing, outlining a magic circle.

The magic circle existed for less than three seconds before collapsing into countless points of light, which then reassembled into a floating text.

That was a message from an anonymous person, encoded in a way that could only be deciphered at a specific frequency:
"When the chessboard is tilted, some pieces will naturally slide off."

"But a true chess player will set up support positions on the bottom of the board before the pieces are placed."

The text flickered, switching to more specific instructions:
"Seven floors down."

"In the shadow of the fourth pillar."

There's a guy who's 'still dreaming'.

"He dreamed that he was summoning the stars, but when he woke up he found himself becoming the stars themselves."

Ron narrowed his eyes; this was probably the way the other party had found to "bypass" the restrictions.

Each sentence is like a riddle, requiring you to deduce its true meaning.

"Seven levels down" likely refers to the deeper areas of the park.

The "fourth pillar" may be some kind of structural landmark.

And the guy who's "still dreaming"... that's the most crucial description.

The text continued to appear:

"If you can help him complete the conversion, he will be a valuable assistant."

"But remember, he is no longer a complete person, but more like a 'tool spirit'."

"The risk is that his summoning ability cannot be fully controlled, and a strict contract needs to be established."

"Therefore, using your nascent ethereal form as an 'anchor point' might limit the risk of him going out of control."

The last line of text suddenly began to distort, as if forcibly interfered with by some force:
"Don't believe everything I say, but don't disbelieve everything either, after all..."

The information ends here.

The last few characters shattered completely, turning into meaningless specks of light that dissipated.

Ron went over this message in his mind over and over again.

"Going down seven levels" means venturing into the heart of the park, where the dangers far exceed those of the outer corridors where we are now.

The term "tool spirit" suggests that the target has lost most of its humanity and may become uncontrollable at any time.

The suggestion to "use a virtual skeleton as an anchor point" is indeed feasible.

The door on the chest of the [Dark Threshold] is essentially a mechanism for "defining reality," and theoretically, it can establish contractual restrictions.

"But the problem is..."

He looked up at the distorted darkness at the end of the corridor:

Why did the nameless man help me?

Or rather... was he really 'helping' me?

There is no answer to this question, at least not now.

He took out the mark crystal left by the nameless man twenty years ago from his storage space and carefully examined it with the power of the [Threshold of Darkness].

The nascent form of the ethereal body emerged from behind, and the starlight observed the crystal surface as its internal structure was gradually peeled away.

Three minutes later, Ron concluded:
The crystal contains extremely sophisticated "isolation runes" that can evade most monitoring methods.

These runes are designed with an extremely advanced concept, employing at least five different systems of magical principles, interwoven into a nearly impenetrable shielding network.

However, it is indeed just a one-time message device, with no offensive or tracking functions hidden inside.

"So... at least on this point, the Nameless One did not lie."

Ron carefully put the crystal away again.

He looked into the depths of the corridor, where the collapse was even more severe; the floor had almost completely melted, leaving only a metal skeleton barely maintaining the structure.

The wound on the wall continued to widen, and fragments from another dimension rained down.

"Three days."

Ron silently calculated:

"I promised Chloe we'd meet at the entrance in three days."

This means I have a maximum of seventy-two hours to complete the exploration, find something of value, and then make my escape unscathed.

He took a deep breath, and the [Threshold of Darkness] was fully revealed.

………………

Every step forward feels like trekking through the ruins of history.

His ethereal form remained in a semi-manifest state.

The starlight body of [Dark Threshold] emitted a faint glow in the darkness, illuminating his path.

Just as he cautiously used his magic to gently lift himself up and levitate...

"I think, therefore I am, but where do I think?"

An old voice suddenly came from ahead.

Ron suddenly stopped in his tracks.

About a hundred meters ahead, the illusory figure of an old man was moving slowly.

He was dressed in the robes of an ancient scholar, his back hunched, and he leaned on a withered wooden cane.

He would stop every three steps and repeat the same thing:

"I think, therefore I am, but where do I think?"

Then take three more steps forward and stop again:

"I think, therefore I am, but where do I think?"

It goes on and on, never stopping.

Ron narrowed his eyes and activated the observation ability of [Threshold of Darkness].

Starlight seeped from the illusory body, enveloping the old man's phantom image, attempting to decipher its essence.

After a moment, he concluded:
This is a prisoner in a "semi-released state".

His original body may have long since escaped or vanished, but some kind of "residue" of it is still trapped here.

This ghostly figure isn't a real person; it's more like a video being played on an endless loop.

Or rather, it is a philosophical paradox that can never be solved, solidified into a tangible form.

Therefore, it is unavoidable.

"senior."

Ron spoke cautiously, his voice echoing in the empty corridor:
"May I ask you a question?"

The old man's illusory figure suddenly stopped.

Its movements were extremely stiff, like a puppet's strings suddenly being pulled tight.

He slowly turned his head, revealing a completely blurry face.

His facial features had melted away, leaving only two bottomless black holes where his eyes should have been.

"question?"

The old man's voice seemed to echo in the water, with a gurgling sound:

"What do you want to ask? 'Truth'? 'Meaning'? 'The essence of existence'?"

He suddenly let out a shrill laugh:

"Young man, don't look for the answer. Because when you find the answer, you'll discover..."

The phantom's body began to swell.

Ron could sense that the "paradox" represented by the old man's phantom was spreading outwards, trying to drag everything around it into its logical trap.

"...and you'll find that you've become the problem itself!"

The moment the last word was uttered, the phantom exploded completely!

The old man's body shattered like a broken mirror, each fragment reflecting a different "problem":
“If all Cretans are lying, and one Cretan says ‘I am lying,’ then…”

"If all the parts of a ship are replaced, is it still the same ship? If..."

"Could the 'Creator' create a stone that even He Himself cannot move? If so..."

Countless philosophical paradoxes flooded in.

Each one tried to take root in Ron's consciousness, dragging his thinking into an endless cycle of reasoning.

Ron was prepared.

【Threshold of Darkness】The black veil above her head fluttered gently.

That is the power of "concealment".

The veil quickly enveloped Ron's entire being, blurring the definition of his existence.

"who am I?"

The light veil is asking.

“I am Ron Ralph, a wizard.”

"Also an observer, a judge, and... an existence that is nothing."

"My definition is fluid, my essence is uncertain."

"so……"

The black veil was fully unfurled, shutting out all the paradoxes that came rushing in:
"Your 'question' fails to capture a target whose 'answer' is uncertain."

Those paradoxes collided with the veil, like water hitting a sponge.

They are dissolved into meaningless fragments and then dissipate into the air.

The old man's phantom image let out a resentful shriek.

Its body began to disintegrate, like a sand sculpture blown away by the wind.

As the illusory figure vanished, its lips moved, leaving behind its final words:

"Go down, going down is the only way out..."

The sound grew fainter and fainter:
"The deepest part of hell is often the entrance to heaven."

"Remember, down."

The last syllable turned into smoke, the phantom disappeared, leaving only a pool of liquid on the ground that was still slightly wriggling.

Ron withdrew the veil of [Dark Threshold] and took a deep breath.

"down……"

He repeated the old man's instructions.

It seems that the marks of the nameless are not the only guide; the "remnants" of these prisoners are also pointing the way for those who come after them in their own way.

Ron continued onward.

The corridor began to show a noticeable "tilt".

The cracks in the walls grew larger and larger, and large areas of the ceiling began to collapse.

"call!"

A shockwave like a hurricane suddenly struck from the front!

In the instant of the impact, Ron felt countless emotions flooding into his consciousness simultaneously:
Ecstasy, as if winning the lottery of the whole world;

Despair feels like losing everything most precious in life;
Anger feels like being betrayed by the person you trust most;

Calm, like a hermit who has seen through the illusions of the world;
Fear is like standing on the edge of an abyss, about to fall;
Love is like the racing heartbeat of first love...

All emotions were amplified to the extreme, condensed and poured out in the same instant.

The intensity of this emotional impact is enough to cause any ordinary wizard to mentally collapse on the spot.

Ron gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay calm.

The Dark Threshold automatically activated its protection mechanism, closing the door tightly and keeping most of the emotional storms out.

Even so, strands of emotion still seeped in, frantically pounding at the edge of his consciousness.

"This is……"

He tried to see the true nature of this emotional storm.

Starlight enveloped the surrounding space, peeling away layers of appearance to reveal the deeper truth.

Then, he saw it.

That wasn't an attack; these emotions... were a cry for help.

Countless "emotional crystals" floated in the air of the corridor.

They are translucent, like colored glass beads, each containing a specific emotion.

These crystals once belonged to Elena Moonshine.

When "The End of Death" forcibly took her away from Paradise, her body was conscripted, but the "emotional extracts" she had accumulated during her seven thousand years of imprisonment were left behind.

Those emotions, having lost their owner's control, began to operate autonomously.

They attract, repel, devour, and merge with each other, gradually forming an "emotional ecosystem".

These emotions are still "evolving," gradually forming the prototype of some kind of "new life."

Ron could sense that at the deepest part of the emotional storm, a “core” was taking shape.

It is the collection of all emotions, an "emotional monster" with rudimentary self-awareness.

"The end of death..."

His voice carried a chill:

"He not only released the prisoners, but also deliberately left behind their 'residues,' allowing these remnants to ferment, mutate, and grow in Paradise..."

"When the park completely collapses, these things will flow into the main world."

"At that time, chaos will come uninvited."

Ron had no choice but to force his way through the emotional storm, and the Void's "concealment" ability opened up a relatively safe passage for him.

Those emotional crystals tried to cling to him, but they were all gently brushed aside by the black veil.

He didn't have time to deal with this "emotional ecosystem".

If Chloe were here, her prophetic abilities might be able to quickly find a way to resolve the situation.

But now he is all alone and must focus on his main goal.

"down."

He reminded himself:
“Find the entity marked by the Nameless One, establish a contract, and then leave.”

"Other issues... let's leave them for later."

After navigating through the emotional storm, the corridor's tilt became even more pronounced.

The spatial structure has begun to shift from a "horizontal corridor" to a "spiral descent".

The boundaries between the walls, the floor, and the ceiling are blurred, eventually merging into a huge, downward-spiraling tunnel.

This spatial distortion became increasingly intense, until finally, at the end of the tunnel, light appeared.

Ron sped away from the tunnel, then suddenly stopped.

The sight before him made him hold his breath.

It was a huge sinkhole; even the word "huge" is insufficient to describe its size.

This pit seemed to have no boundaries, extending downwards into the darkness beyond the reach of sight and outwards to the very edge of one's field of vision.

At its edge stand thirteen enormous "pillars".

Ron could see that three of the thirteen pillars had completely broken, leaving only the broken bases standing at the edge of the pit.

"Based on previous investigations, these should all be ley lines..."

These pillars form the "skeleton" supporting the entire park's spatial structure and serve as "anchor points" connecting different dimensions and stabilizing the boundary between reality and dreams.

If all the pillars break, the paradise will completely collapse, and all the sealed things will flood into the main world.

Ron moved carefully along the edge of the pit.

The "ground" beneath their feet was actually just a fragment suspended in the void, which could fall into the abyss at any moment.

He must precisely calculate the landing point of each step to ensure that he lands in a relatively stable area.

Ron arrived at the fourth pillar.

This pillar is in slightly better condition than the previous ones; at least half of the runes are still functioning normally.

He circled the pillar, looking for the "shadow".

In the distorted space of the amusement park, the concept of "shadow" is extremely vague.

Since the nameless person used this word, it must have a special meaning.

Ron activates the [Threshold of Darkness] observation, examining the pillar from different "perspectives":
From a physical point of view, the shadow of the pillar above the pit moves slowly with the "light source" that seems to come from nowhere;
From an energy perspective, the flow of magic around the pillar forms an "energy shadow," which is a relatively stable area;

From a conceptual perspective, the opposite of a pillar as a "support" is "void," and the area that is "unsupported" is the conceptual "shadow"...

He chose the third interpretation.

Direct your consciousness toward the direction where the pillar "does not exist," and sense whether something is hidden in that "void."

Then, on the side of the pillar directly opposite the sinkhole, in the void where, theoretically, "nothing should exist."

He discovered a suspended... "cocoon." (End of Chapter)