Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

In the Abyss Observatory, in the conference room named "Echo Hall," the suspended magic crystal lamps illuminated the space brightly.

Ron stood alone in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze piercing through the transparent crystal glass as he stared at the eternal darkness outside the observatory.

The ring on the middle finger of her left hand reflected a soft purple halo under the light.

There were no stars or moonlight in the sky above the abyss; only the occasional drifting energy turbulence in the distance left fleeting trails.

He had seen this scene countless times, and each time he could glean different meanings from that chaos.

It concerns order and chaos, the known and the unknown, and the even more perilous path he is about to embark on.

"Arrived early enough."

A rough voice sounded from behind.

Ron turned around and saw Captain Miller walking into the conference room.

This veteran explorer of the abyss still maintains his unkempt appearance.

His stubble was growing wildly on his chin, but his eyes remained sharp.

Miller.

He nodded in greeting and went to meet her.

Their hands clasped together, the force of which went beyond a mere formality.

Miller felt a foreign object in his hand and his gaze fell on the other person's left hand, lingering for a moment on the ring.

He didn't speak immediately, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing a knowing smile.

"It seems the rumors are true. You have indeed plucked the most noble flower of the wizard clan."

The two teammates following Miller, the tall Blake and the wary Camila, were looking at their captain with strange eyes.

Blake's hands unconsciously clenched and unclenched, as if he wanted to say something but dared not speak.

Camilla turned slightly to the side, signaling to the captain with her eyes that they should be aware of the difference in their status.

Their reaction was reasonable.

After all, the young Dark Sun-level wizard in front of him is now ranked second in the observation station's power hierarchy, second only to the acting station chief, Nitil.

His academic achievements influenced the potion-making system in the Central Lands, and his network of connections was astonishing.

Saint Hector, the King of Absurdity; Saint Salcardo, the King of Records; Saint Pandora, the King of Illusions. Any one of these names is enough to make the entire wizarding world tremble.

To dare to be so disrespectful under such circumstances is tantamount to dancing on the edge of a cliff.

Ron noticed these details.

He showed no displeasure; instead, he said quite naturally:
"We just got engaged, and I'm still not used to the ring."

This statement broke the potential awkwardness.

Miller nodded, walked to the conference table, and expertly pulled out a chair to sit down.

He pulled out the metal flask he always carried with him from his pocket, unscrewed the lid, but just held it in his hand and twirled it:
"You've tasted Abyss Red Vine Wine."

This is a declarative sentence, carrying a sense of reminiscence.

“I remember.” Ron sat down opposite him. “It had a very unique flavor.”

"Yes, it's special."

Miller looked down at the wine jug, his voice becoming somewhat distant:
"I also wore a ring back then, but it wasn't something as valuable as this; it was just an ordinary silver band."

My wife said that as long as it fits on the wrist, it's fine; we don't need those fancy runes.

He then took his first sip of wine:
"That woman is always very practical."

His voice gradually lowered, his gaze fixed on the deep darkness outside the window, as if he could pierce through the void and see into the distant past:
"But you know, there's always a price to pay for exploring the abyss."

Sometimes it's a limb, sometimes it's a life, sometimes...

His Adam's apple bobbed.
Sometimes, you give up the most precious things.

The conference room fell into a brief silence.

Blake and Camilla both lowered their heads.

Ron didn't offer any empty words of comfort like "I'm sorry" or "Please accept my condolences."

Those words are as pale as winter snowflakes to those who have truly experienced loss; they melt at the touch, leaving only a chill.

He simply sat there quietly, expressing his understanding and respect through silence.

After a moment, Miller raised his head, his eyes regaining their clarity:
"However, since we're on this topic, I'd like to offer you some advice, Associate Professor Ron."

His tone became serious, and his weathered eyes looked directly at the other person:
"If you are fortunate enough to have happiness, then do everything you can to protect it."

Don't end up like me, losing everything and now only able to drink cheap liquor alone in the dead of night, reminiscing about the times we once had in an empty room.

"That feeling is even worse than having a leg bitten off by a creature from the abyss."

"At least a broken leg can grow back, but some things, once lost, are truly lost."

Ron nodded solemnly:
“I will, Miller.”

"That's good."

Miller put away the wine jug, and the topic naturally shifted: "Is this gathering about pioneering in another world?"

"A world of chaotic bloodshed," Ron replied succinctly.

“Vampires, curses, chaos.” Miller seemed to have caught wind of this as well: “It’s much more troublesome there than the shallows of the abyss.”

“It is indeed troublesome.” Ron did not deny it: “So we need the right people.”

Miller paused for a few seconds, then asked directly:
“You know I have no hope of advancement. My internal injuries are too severe, and reaching the Moon Rank is a long way off. According to the Alliance's rules, I shouldn't be here.”

This is a very practical question.

Blake and Camilla also looked up, their eyes filled with questions.

They were equally puzzled—although the captain had rich exploration experience, his cultivation level was stuck outside the Moon-level threshold, so he should have been excluded from the pioneer list.

Ron tapped his fingers lightly on the table:
"The alliance's rules are for those who want to use official channels."

"We don't go through official channels."

Miller was somewhat surprised by this statement, but then he came to understand it.

He leaned back in his chair, re-examining the once-young wizard before him:
"So, you've found a way to bypass the restrictions."

“It’s not about bypassing it,” Ron corrected. “It’s that you don’t need to follow that restriction at all.”

Before he could finish speaking, the conference room door was pushed open again.

A group of young people filed in, their faces bearing the typical look of those just starting out.

These were all members of Ron's elite group back then, and now they have all been promoted to full-fledged wizards.

Although they are all only at the Morning Star level, they have already begun to show their talent in their respective fields of expertise.

Herman was walking at the front, wearing a silver mechanical glove on his right hand.

That was a "precision operation auxiliary device" he designed himself, which was said to increase the success rate of experiments.

Following closely behind is Liz, a girl with long blonde hair who specializes in botany and pharmacology.

She had more than a dozen small bottles of different shapes hanging from her waist, filled with various extracted plant essences.

Then came Lucia and the others. The six members of the elite group stood in a neat row and gave Ron a standard apprentice salute.

"tutor."

Ron smiled and nodded to them to take their seats, then turned to the projection core and began activating the remote connection.

In the light screen, virtual seats were gradually lit up one by one.

The first thing to appear was a projection of Silas Draven.

This once proud rune expert now looks much more haggard, with slightly sunken eyes and a thinner face.

He was standing in a laboratory in the Vinard colony, with various alchemical devices faintly visible in the background.

"Associate Professor Ralph."

Silas's voice sounded somewhat distorted through magical transmission:
"I'm sorry I can't be there in person. There's a crucial experiment going on at the colony, and I just can't get away. But I'll be at the designated location in a week."

"I understand, your job is more important."

Ron responded.

Immediately afterwards, several more projections lit up.

Those were some of the alien students who studied under Ron in the Vinard colony, and now the best of them have all become formal wizards.

The last projection to light up came from the "First Flame World".

Edwin Upton's bronze-colored face appeared in the light screen, with a crater-like, scorching background behind him, the air distorted and deformed by the high temperature.

"Associate Professor Ralph."

Edwin's voice was deep and powerful, like the roar of magma from the earth.
"I heard you're planning to establish new territory. If you need combat personnel, I can request their transfer."

"Edwin, your work over there is also very important. I'll arrange for you to come over once things are settled here."

Ron responded with a smile, but a warm feeling welled up inside him.

No matter how far apart they were or what their circumstances were, they all responded without hesitation when he issued the call to arms.

This trust is more precious than any contract.

Once all attendees were in place, a peculiar scene unfolded in the conference room:
Around the round conference table were both Miller and others who were physically present, as well as their distant counterparts who were participating via projection;
It includes both young, promising talents and experienced veteran explorers;
It contains both humans and various other races.
The team was composed of many different people, but when their eyes were all focused on Ron, the sense of unity was real.

"Very good, everyone is here."

Ron glanced around and tapped his finger lightly on the table.

The light screen at the projection core began to change, revealing a vast star map.

Countless points of light flickered in the void, representing the known locations of various worlds.

At the edge of the star map, a red dot marked "Chaotic Blood World" stands out.

"Before we begin, I'd like to answer a question."

Ron noticed the confused expressions on the faces of Herman and the other Morning Star students, and he smiled and said:
"You must be wondering why I would invite those of you who haven't reached the Moon Rank to participate in exploring another world."

After all, according to the official rules of the School Alliance, only Moon-level individuals possess the so-called 'pioneer qualification,' right?

The six young people nodded in unison.

This problem has indeed troubled them for a long time.

When they received the call to action from their mentors, they were both excited and apprehensive. They were excited to finally have the opportunity to participate in a truly significant event, but apprehensive about whether they were qualified.

"You only know one side of the story, not the other."

Ron's finger traced across the star map, leaving a faint trail of light.
"The rule of 'Monthly-level pioneer qualification' may seem like a threshold of strength on the surface, but it actually has a deeper meaning."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present:
"How many of you truly understand how teleportation portals work?"

Everyone looked at each other.

For most wizards, portals are simply a convenient tool that is "taken for granted".

It's as natural as breathing air, and few people delve into the underlying mechanisms.

"The portal connects the spatial coordinates of two different worlds."

Ron began to explain in detail:
"When we pass through the portal, we are actually traversing an unimaginable distance in an instant, passing through that 'space tunnel' filled with high-energy radiation."

"For Moon-level wizards, their physical strength and magical shields are sufficient to resist this radiation, making the teleportation process relatively safe."

"But for lower-level wizards."

He changed the subject:
"The portal would have to consume additional energy to build a thicker protective layer in the tunnel to ensure that these 'vulnerable' travelers would not be torn apart by spatial turbulence or burned to ashes by high-energy radiation."

"This additional consumption increases exponentially."

"The teleportation cost for a Moon-level wizard might only be ten units of magic stones."

"Teleporting a Morning Star might require fifty units; teleporting a High-Rank Apprentice might require five hundred units; and teleporting a Lower-Rank Apprentice or a mortal..."

Ron spread his hands:
"The cost would skyrocket to an astonishing level, possibly even more expensive than teleporting dozens of Moon-level teleporters."

This explanation made everyone present realize the truth.

In Silas's projection, the rune expert wore a knowing expression:
"So, the alliance of schools of thought setting up a 'Monthly Level threshold' is essentially driven by economic considerations?"

"Yes."

Ron nodded:
"Although the alliance has vast resources, they cannot withstand unrestrained squandering."

Restricting lower-level wizards from using portals is intended to reduce operating costs and concentrate valuable resources on truly capable elites.

"besides."

His tone became more serious:
“There is another reason that is rarely mentioned—'rule exclusion'.”

"Otherworlds have natural rules that restrict outsiders. The weaker the invader, the more severe the suppression they suffer."

Wizards below the Moon-level are prone to accidents when they rashly enter unfamiliar worlds because they cannot adapt to the local rules.

"At best, it will cause magical chaos; at worst, spells will fail, or even be afflicted with various negative status effects."

"The alliance of schools of thought claims to be 'protecting' the students, but in reality, it is also an attempt to evade responsibility."

If a low-level wizard enters another world without authorization and gets into trouble, the Alliance can rightfully say, 'We warned you.'

A cold laugh came from Edwin's projection:
"To put it bluntly, it's just that they find it troublesome."

"That's understandable."

Ron did not deny it:
"However, there is a very important logical flaw here."

His finger pointed to several points of light on the star chart:
"If there's a strict restriction prohibiting those below the Moon-level from entering the other world, how will Moon-level wizards form teams? Are they supposed to rely entirely on themselves?"

"Exploring another world is not a stage for individual heroism. You need alchemists, apothecaries, scouts, warriors, and logistics personnel. A complete team needs at least twenty or thirty people."

"And the number of Moon-level wizards simply cannot gather that many."

Hermann suddenly realized something and blurted out:
"So, those Moon-level wizards actually all secretly lead their own teams?"

"clever."

Ron nodded approvingly:
"Rules are rigid, but people are flexible."

Moon-level wizards certainly bring people, but they don't use the 'official channels' of the School Alliance; they use various 'private methods.'

"Some people seek out smuggling portals on the black market; it's dangerous but cheap."
Some people borrow 'special channels' from powerful forces, paying a price for convenience; others...

He looked at Edwin's projection:
"They would 'borrow' the power' from high-ranking wizards in the colonies, bypassing restrictions through their authority."

Edwin scratched his head and smiled somewhat sheepishly.
“You saw right through me. I entered the ‘World of First Flame’ back in the Morning Star level, using the special passage provided by Mentor Salamander.”

"Therefore."

Ron withdrew his gaze and surveyed the entire room:
"That so-called 'Monthly-level pioneer qualification' was just an open restriction from the very beginning."

To truly develop another world, you have to find a way to bring people along yourself.

"And we."

His voice suddenly rose:
"There is a better solution than any 'private means'."

The conference room fell into a brief silence.

Everyone was waiting for the answer; the air seemed to freeze.

“During the reign of Cassandra, a period of frenzied expansion known as the ‘Great Conquest’ was initiated.”

In just a few decades, she swept across more than a dozen other worlds, establishing a vast network of colonies and bringing the Crystal Spire's power to unprecedented heights.

Do you know how she did it?

"It's all thanks to a unique alchemical artifact—the 'Rainbow Gate'."

The moment the name was uttered, everyone present with a modicum of knowledge gasped in shock.

"The Gate of Rainbow Light"

Silas's voice trembled:
"A legendary forbidden creation capable of breaking through spatial barriers and enabling inter-world teleportation at extremely low cost?"

"Exactly."

Ron nodded:
"This door was crafted under the personal supervision of Tower Master Cassandra, taking decades to complete and consuming enough resources to build three large wizard towers."

Its core technology remains top secret. The outside world only knows that it utilizes two core concepts: 'space folding' and 'energy circulation,' enabling it to reduce teleportation costs to one-tenth, or even less, of those of conventional teleportation portals.

"More importantly..."

His voice was low, as if he were telling a secret:
"The 'Rainbow Gate' has very few level restrictions on the teleportation targets."

Whether it's a high-ranking wizard or an apprentice, a wizard or a mortal, it can teleport at almost the same low cost.

"This is the real trump card that allows Cassandra to mobilize massive numbers of people and sweep across multiple worlds in a short period of time."

An uncontrollable gasp erupted in the conference room.

Even the usually composed Miller couldn't help but sigh:
"Good heavens, this kind of thing... No wonder those old guys from the School Alliance have been eyeing the Crown Clan all these years!"

"Yes."

Ron's expression turned serious:
"After Cassandra's Tower Master went missing, control of the 'Rainbow Gate' fell into the hands of her daughter, who is..."

He raised his left hand, letting the ring sparkle under the light:
"In the hands of my fiancée, Eve Saint-Mange."

"And now."

Ron surveyed the room and said, enunciating each word clearly:
"I have the right to use this door."

These words were like a bombshell, exploding in the conference room.

They finally understood why Ron had the confidence to assemble such a team that transcended hierarchical limitations.

Miller nodded slowly, re-examining the young Dark Sun-level wizard before him.

Edwin stated bluntly, "So, the resources you now possess are no less than those of an entire school of thought."

"Resources are one aspect."

Ron smiled faintly:
"The main thing is that with the portal, we now have true autonomy."

There's no need to be subservient to the alliance, bound by rules, or act within someone else's framework.

"The Chaotic Blood World will be our first territory, and also the stage to prove the value of this team." His finger hovered over the red dot on the star map:
"Next, let's talk about the specific plan."

Under Ron's control, the light screen in the conference room began to change, the star map shrank, and was replaced by a 3D map that was so detailed it was astonishing.

That was the complete picture of the chaotic world, or rather, the map that Euphemia had drawn inch by inch over a full forty years.

The map is predominantly dark red, like a painting drawn with congealed blood.

Every city is a pulsating point of light, and every road is like a winding blood vessel, connecting this distorted world into a morbid organism.

"Misty Harbor".

Ron's finger pointed to the eastern coastline of the map, where the points of light appeared as a dark blue-purple:

"The only port city in the Chaotic Blood World is controlled by the 'Fang' clan."

They control all maritime trade, as well as a special navigational technology capable of traversing the Blood Mist Sea.

As the light screen zoomed in, the streets of Misty Harbor unfolded like a maze.

The buildings with pointed roofs are layered one on top of another, and strangely shaped ships are moored on the dock.

Human skulls hung from the top of the ship's beams, and the sails were made of bat wing membranes.

Miller clicked his tongue in amazement: "Tsk tsk tsk... This aesthetic is quite unique."

"Practicality lies behind uniqueness."

Ron explained:
"The bat wing membrane has an extremely high conductivity for vampire magic, allowing those ships to travel at three times the speed of normal magic-powered sailing ships, without consuming precious magic stones. As for the human bone decorations..."

He frowned:
"In vampire culture, that represents the 'glory of the conqueror.' Every skeleton is an enemy killed by the captain."

The map moves, and the dot jumps to the inland hinterland.

"Gear City".

This time, the light spot is a cold, hard metallic gray:

"At the heart of the industrial alliance, the entire city is built on a giant gear structure, which is said to have seven layers, each rotating at a different speed."

The image continues to zoom in.

The aerial view of Gear City sent a chill down everyone's spine.

Seven enormous concentric circular regions, each supported by countless intricate mechanical structures, resemble the ultimate creation of some mad engineer.

The chimneys were as dense as a forest, and black smoke blocked out the sun.

"The humans here possess 'blood energy engine' technology."

Ron pulled up another diagram, which showed a complex mechanical device with a transparent container at its core filled with a scarlet liquid:
"They use the blood of vampires as fuel to power steam engines, textile machines, and even weapons of war."

Its efficiency is dozens of times that of ordinary coal.

Silas's projection suddenly tilted forward:
"The magical density of blood far exceeds that of ordinary organic matter. If we could analyze this conversion mechanism..."

His fingers moved rapidly in the air, as if he had already begun to devise an improvement plan:
"The 'Vengeful Gold Energy Circuit' we researched on the Stoker Star can be perfectly integrated with this blood energy system! Imagine if we grafted the two technologies together..."

"Don't rush yet."

Ron interrupted his reverie: "The Blood Engine is highly efficient, but the cost is equally terrifying."

The scene shifts to the slums of Gear City.

The place was full of hunched humans, their skin as white as a corpse, their eyes sunken, and they were so thin that they were just skin and bones.

"The industrial alliance needs a lot of 'raw materials' every day."

They regularly 'purchase' people from the slums, transform them into vampires, and then send them to 'blood factories.'

Ron's voice turned cold:
“An adult blood slave can be extracted to produce about five liters of pure blood, enough to power a medium-sized steam engine for three days.”

"And the blood of those with noble titles."

He pulled up the comparison data:
"The same five liters can keep the same machine running for a month."

This is why the conflict between humans and vampires is irreconcilable; humans need vampire blood, and vampires need human blood—it's a vicious cycle of mutual predation.

The conference room fell into silence.

Even Miller, who was used to the cruelty of the abyss, frowned at this moment.

The map continues to move.

Grey Tower Town.

The light spots turned grayish-white, standing out starkly against the dark red background.

"The wizarding academy's headquarters is also the only place in this world that maintains 'neutrality'."

The image shows a towering gray tower that seems to reach into the clouds, its body carved with intricate runes, and a crystal ball emitting a soft glow suspended at its top.

The tower is surrounded by a ring of buildings, which looks like some kind of college or research institute.

"Most of the wizards here come from the great wizard colonies in the surrounding star systems."

They studied bloodline fusion, the nature of the curse, and the physiological differences between vampires and humans.

Ron explained:
"The academy claims to remain neutral, but in reality, they have intricate connections with various forces."

Vampires need their potions and runes, humans need their silver weapons, and the Industrial Alliance needs their alchemical technology.

"A bunch of fence-sitters."

Camilla snorted coldly.

"It's more like a lubricant."

Ron corrected, "The existence of Grey Tower keeps this world at a critical point of 'chaos' but not 'complete destruction'."

If the academy sides with either side, the balance will be broken.

Finally, the spot of light landed in the southwest corner of the map.

"Twilight City".

The points of light there had an eerie purplish-gold hue, and as they flickered, one could even see wisps of black shadow wriggling within them.

"This is the base that Euphemia operates, and it is also our target."

The screen is zoomed in.

Twilight City is mostly built underground, a three-dimensional labyrinth consisting of countless tunnels and caves.

The city is divided into three layers—the top layer is the commercial and residential area, the middle layer is the industrial and warehousing area, and the bottom layer is...
Ron's finger lingered in that area:

"It is Euphemia's core laboratory and the residence of those 'modified vampires' who are willing to follow her."

"Modifying vampires?"

Blake asked curiously.

"Euphemism's research results - suppressing the bloodline curse with chemical pollutants while preserving the power of the vampires."

Ron explained succinctly:

"These vampires are no longer affected by Aiden's madness, which is equivalent to gaining true 'free will' in a way."

"That sounds wonderful."

Miller picked up the flask and took another sip: "What about the side effects?"

"side effect."

Ron pulled up a medical report, the dense data on it making him dizzy:
"Strength is reduced by about 30%, regeneration ability is weakened by 50%, lifespan is shortened to one-third of the original, and the transformation is irreversible."

"in other words."

He looked at the crowd:
"These vampires traded half their lives and a third of their power for freedom from being controlled."

The conference room fell silent again.

This silence was even more somber.

Everyone can understand the despair behind that choice.

When you discover that your thoughts, emotions, and even your very existence are being controlled by some distant being, how much are you willing to pay to regain your autonomy?

"It's not over yet."

Ron waved to close the medical report and brought up the star map mode again.

This time, thirteen different colored orbs appeared on the map.

They are scattered in every corner of the chaotic world, like thirteen beating hearts.

"Next up are the thirteen vampire clans."

Detailed text descriptions appeared next to each orb of light, and Ron began to explain them one by one:

The "Ya" clan controlled maritime transport and trade;
The 'Heart' clan possesses the most complete blood magic heritage and is the strongest among all clans.
The 'Bone' clan is skilled in assassination and intelligence gathering;
The "Stomach" clan controlled vast agricultural areas.

His finger traced across the map, and each time he touched a glowing orb, detailed information about the clan would pop up—territory, military strength, main industries, and political leanings.
"These thirteen clans are all outwardly loyal to 'Blood King' Aiden, but in reality, they each have their own ulterior motives."

Ron's tone turned serious:
"Aidan's madness has lasted for thousands of years, and these clans have long been secretly vying for power."

Some wanted to replace Aiden as the new ruler, some wanted to overthrow his rule and establish a republic, and some...

He paused for a moment: "I just want to survive."

"The Church Legion".

Dozens of white dots appeared on the map, mainly concentrated around human towns:

"An armed force composed of surviving humans who believe in the 'Dawn' and consider vampires to be an evil that must be purified."

"equipment?"

Miller asked professionally.

"Silver weapons, holy water, and a special rune known as 'Dawn Inscription'."

Ron pulls up the equipment blueprints:

"These weapons are extremely effective against vampires."

Even a vampire marquis of the Dark Sun level would be reduced to ashes if struck in the heart by a silver sword imbued with runes.

Silas's projection flickered again, and the rune experts began recording the construction principles of these weapons.

Ron closed the map and surveyed the entire field:
"This is the basic structure of the chaotic world of bloodshed—thirteen scheming vampire clans, a human church oppressed to its limits, an ambitious industrial alliance, and a group of seemingly neutral wizards."

"And above all of this."

His voice was low, as if he were describing some unspeakable horror:
"He is a 'king' who has gone completely mad and could awaken at any moment and destroy everything."

"This is the battlefield we are about to enter."

Three days later, in the experimental area of ​​the observation station.

Ron stood alone in a laboratory protected by multiple seals, with dozens of transparent containers placed on the workbench in front of him.

Each container holds crystals of different colors—samples of his various attempts to improve "dormant mineral salt" over the years.

Some are pure silver-white, some have a faint blue glow, and some have iridescent colors floating on their surfaces like the aurora borealis.

However, they all share a common problem: instability.

The longest it lasted was three days, and the shortest lasted less than ten minutes.

Ron picked up one of the silvery-white crystals and placed it under the magic microscope.

Through the lens, he could clearly see the energy structure inside the crystal.

Countless tiny energy nodes are interconnected, forming a sophisticated network.

Beautiful, orderly, yet so fragile it evokes despair.

"Where exactly is the problem?"

He muttered to himself, his fingers tapping lightly on the control panel.

The ability of abyssal crystals to purify the "emotional residue" in dormant mineral salts has been repeatedly verified.

There is no doubt that the power of chaos can reconstruct energy structures.

But why does the final product always "forget" its own existence and then slowly dissolve?
unless
Ron suddenly remembered the prisoners he had met in "Paradise".

Elena Moonshine was tormented by “death” repeatedly in the seven-thousand-year cycle, but she never truly lost herself because she retained the core obsession of “saving the world.”

Norman also had the primal desire for revenge.

Obsession is not just an "emotion," but also an "anchor point."

This is the fundamental reason why the soul refuses to dissipate and matter refuses to dissolve.

When he used the abyss crystals to purify all the "emotional residue" from the mineral salts, he was actually depriving them of their reason to "continue to exist."

Having lost their anchor, they will naturally return to nothingness.

"Therefore, the real solution is not 'purification,' but rather 'replacement.'"

Ron's eyes grew brighter and brighter:
"Replace 'negative obsessions' with 'neutral obsessions,' retain the most basic anchor point of 'I want to exist,' and only change its emotional attributes."

He quickly wrote down the new derivation formulas in his notebook.

Abyssal crystals are responsible for weakening existing negative emotions, but not for completely erasing them;

The power of chaos is responsible for reconstructing the energy network and injecting new "meaning of existence" at the same time;
The crucial medium requires a special substance that can both bear "obsession" and be "rewritten".
blood.

More accurately, it is "blood bound by a curse".

Ron stood up and walked to a special safe in the corner of the laboratory.

There are samples sent by Euphemia through Nari—a dozen small vials of blood from different vampires in the Chaotic Blood World.

He took out one of the bottles, which was a sample labeled "Berserk Vampire".

The blood was an abnormal dark purple color, and even in a sealed container, its surface could be seen churning, as if something alive was struggling inside.

Ron carefully took out a drop and dripped it onto a piece of modified mineral salt.

"laugh……"

A strange sound sounded.

Purple smoke began to rise from the surface of the mineral salt, and the originally orderly energy nodes trembled violently and began to rearrange.

Meanwhile, the blood is being "absorbed" by the mineral salts.

No, it's more accurate to call it "integration".

The silvery-white mineral salt gradually took on a light purplish-red hue, but that purplish-red color remained remarkably stable, showing no signs of dissolving.

Ron held his breath and activated his Void Observation ability to observe the microstructure.

He witnessed a shocking scene:
The "madness factor" in the blood, the twisted magic representing Aiden's mad will, is being captured, decomposed, and reconstructed by the "obsession network" of the mineral salt.
Ultimately, these energies, which were originally full of madness and destructiveness, turned into pure "anchor points"!
They no longer crave destruction or spread madness; they simply exist.

"successful"

Ron's voice trembled: "This is the answer!"

"The curse of the vampires is essentially a kind of 'compulsive obsession'."

Aiden imposed his will on all his descendants through bloodlines, making them 'obsessed' with the thirst for blood and the pursuit of power.

"And when this 'compulsive obsession' is captured by the 'obsession replacement' mechanism of improved mineral salt..."

He gazed at the crystal, which had now completely stabilized and was radiating a soft, purplish-red light:
"It will then be rewritten into the most basic neutral anchor point of 'I want to exist'."

"The curse hasn't disappeared; it's just continued in a different form."

"And thus, mineral salt has gained a truly stable 'reason for existence'!"

Ron immediately began conducting more verification experiments.

He took blood samples from different vampire clans and fused them with the modified mineral salt.

The blood of ordinary blood slaves gives the mineral salts a pale pink color;

The blood of the berserk vampires gives the mineral salts a dark purple hue;

The blood of noble bloodlines gives the mineral salt a deep red color, and even tiny rune patterns appear on its surface.
Every fusion was successful.

Each piece of fused mineral salt is incredibly stable.

They no longer "forget" or dissolve; they simply lie quietly in the container, each radiating its own unique light.

"This might be the key I need!"

Ron compiled all the experimental data into a report and made the decision: "We must set off as soon as possible."

"The Chaotic Blood World is not only a treasure trove for studying bloodlines, but also an experimental field for verifying the 'mineral salt improvement theory'."

"If we could obtain the blood of berserk vampires on a large scale, and combine it with the purification ability of the Abyss Crystals..."

His eyes burned with the fervor unique to researchers:

"I can create a truly stable, efficient, and mass-producible 'new energy'!"

This will change the existing energy landscape, giving him a strategic competitive advantage at his mines on Stoker's Star.

This will also become his bargaining chip in the academic alliance.

The key is
Ron glanced at the safe filled with blood samples in the corner: "This might also be the key to curing those berserk vampires."

"If I can prove that 'obsession replacement' applies not only to minerals, but also to life."

"Then Aiden's curse is no longer an unsolvable dead end."

In the reception room of the Emerald Mansion, Chloe sat quietly on the sofa.

The blind witch was dressed in a simple gray robe today, her hands on her knees, her posture dignified yet revealing a certain indescribable tension.

Her gaze remained fixed on the doorway, as if she were waiting for something.

Footsteps sounded, and Ron pushed open the door and entered:

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Chloe."

There's some finishing work to be done in the lab.

"It doesn't matter."

Chloe shook her head, her eyes, hidden by black silk, "turning" towards him:

"I'm the one who should be apologizing. You know, every time I come here I only bring you bad news." (End of Chapter)