Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

"You really do know everything."

The Grand Duke gave a wry smile:

"We received intelligence that he came to help Euphemia in Twilight City, and Euphemia possesses the formula..."

"You want to rob me."

Gaetano interrupted directly:

"Steal the formula, and while you're at it, get rid of that troublesome outsider, right?"

The Grand Duke remained silent.

This was his real purpose for the trip, but the fact that the other party had stated it so bluntly still made him feel a little embarrassed.

"I understand your thoughts."

The dwarf wizard shook the barrel:
"The problem of berserk behavior is getting more and more serious, and your vampire clan urgently needs a solution."

Euphemia's formula may have flaws, but it's better than waiting to go mad.

"But the problem is..."

He raised his head, and his previously unfocused eyes suddenly became sharp as knives:

Are you sure you want to do something to Ron Ralph?

"This is what I wanted to ask you."

The Grand Duke took a deep breath:

"The intelligence says he has a powerful background, but just how powerful? To what extent? I need an accurate assessment."

"An accurate assessment?"

Gaetano chuckled and made a sweeping motion in the air.

The blood crystal array responded immediately, unfolding a relationship diagram composed of magic between the two.

It was an extremely complex network.

At the center point is a dot of light labeled "Ron Ralph," from which countless lines extend, connecting to a series of flashing names.

The varying thickness of each line represents the closeness of the relationship.

And those names...

The King of Records, Salcardo; the King of Illusions, Pandora; and the King of Absurdity, Hector—three of the thickest golden lines, like chains, are tightly connected to the center point.

Cassandra, the master of the Crystal Spire; Vinard, the governor of the Stoves colony; and Salamander, the executive officer of the First Flame world—three thinner but still dazzling silver lines.

There are even more lines, densely interwoven, forming a dazzling web.

The Grand Duke looked at the picture and felt a tightness in his throat.

"see it?"

Gaetano's voice grew heavy:
"This is the 'background' you're facing."

He pointed to the three golden names:
“Any one of the three Witch Kings could erase your entire Heart Clan from history in the blink of an eye.”

“It’s not about defeating you, or taking over your territory, but about ‘erasing’ you.”

The dwarf wizard emphasized the last two words:
"Your ancestral land will turn to dust, your bloodline will be severed, and your names will disappear from the memory of all vampires."

"It's as if... you never existed."

“Even the fact that it ‘once existed’ will be erased.”

He took a sip of his drink, and his tone became more casual:

"Of course, this is just the theoretical 'worst-case scenario'."

In reality, the witch kings are all very busy and wouldn't make a big fuss over trivial matters.

"But the problem is..."

Gaetano shouted sternly:

"Do you dare to bet?"

"Is it possible that those three witch kings won't care about a 'minor conflict'?"

"Are you betting they'll think you're just having a normal power struggle and it's not worth getting involved?"

"Are you betting that Ron Ralph isn't important enough to them to make an exception and intervene?"

Cold sweat beaded on the Grand Duke's forehead.

He certainly wouldn't dare to gamble.

Having lived for two thousand years, his greatest wisdom for survival is this: never gamble on how beings beyond your comprehension will react.

"not to mention……"

The dwarf wizard let out a burp, his tone becoming playful:

“Ron Ralph is more than just someone with ‘a powerful background’.”

He raised his hand, and the relationship diagram began to change, with more annotations appearing next to the names:

"The founder of 'Narrative Potions'—this means that his status in academia is rising at an astonishing rate, and he may become a core figure in a certain school of thought in the future."

“Ancient Alchemist” candidates – this profession is extremely rare in the wizarding world, and the Court of Truth provides special protection for each candidate.

"Associate Professor at the Crystal Spire, Senior Researcher at the Observatory, Special Advisor to the Vinard Colony, Partner of Several Grand Wizards..."

Gaetano listed more than a dozen titles in one go:
"This kid is not even fifty years old, yet he has accumulated so many resources and connections."

"Do you know what this means?"

The Grand Duke shook his head.

"That means he is a 'seed'."

The dwarf wizard tapped the wine barrel:
“The ‘seeds’ carefully nurtured by the wizarding civilization are the kind of beings that have the potential to grow into ‘towering trees’ in the future.”

"And as for this kind of 'seed'..."

His tone became more serious:

"The protection afforded to the wizarding civilization is far greater than you can imagine."

"kill him?"

Gaetano sneered:

"Then your entire vampire civilization will be placed on the 'hostile list'."

"Seriously injured him?"

"They will still be held accountable, just to a lesser degree."

"So my suggestion is..."

The dwarf wizard picked up the barrel of wine and took a large gulp:

"Don't kill him, and don't let the conflict escalate to a 'life-or-death feud'."

"You can compete for interests, demonstrate your strength, and exert pressure through various means."

These are all normal 'games' and acceptable 'competition'.

"But once they go all out..."

He paused:

“Then it’s no longer a ‘game’ but a ‘declaration of war’.”

The Grand Duke remained silent for a long time.

His fingers tapped unconsciously on the armrest, making a rhythmic "tap-tap" sound, clearly indicating that he was engaged in a fierce internal struggle.

Gaetano didn't urge him, but just slowly drank from the barrel, occasionally humming a dwarf's song.

"So……"

The Grand Duke finally spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse:

"If we simply 'fight back' him, seize the formula, and then stop immediately... is such an action acceptable?"

"can."

Gaetano nodded without hesitation:
"This is a normal conflict of interest. The formula itself is in a gray area; whoever gets it gets it."

"As long as no one is killed and all pretense of civility is broken, there is still room for maneuver if we can sit down and negotiate afterwards."

"even……"

The dwarf wizard squinted:

“You could also consider ‘cooperation’.”

"cooperate?"

"correct."

Gaetano shook the barrel:
"Ron Ralph came here to help Euphemia complete her research."

"His expertise in potion-making might actually be able to break through that bottleneck of 'power reduction'."

"If he succeeds, your Heart Clan can use resources, status, or even bloodline as bargaining chips to exchange for the right to use the formula."

"This way, we can solve the problem of madness without offending a potential candidate for witch king."

He let out a burp:

"Isn't it beautiful?"

This suggestion made the Grand Duke think deeply.

Indeed, from a rational perspective, this is the safest option.

But the problem is...

"What about Alex..."

He hesitated before speaking:
"You know that guy's personality."

If I let him 'fight back' Ron Ralph, I'm worried he'll lose control and...

"Then warn him in advance."

Gaetano interrupted:
“You are a Grand Duke, he is a Marquis. The hierarchy of bloodlines is enough to make him obey orders.”

“Tell him that he can only ‘repel’ the enemy, and he must never ‘kill’ them.”

"If he can't even carry out this simple order..."

A cold glint flashed in the dwarf wizard's eyes:
"Then he doesn't deserve to be called a 'marquis'."

The Grand Duke slowly nodded, but he still felt uneasy.

He knew Alex too well; that guy had no idea what "holding back" meant in a fight.

Just then, Gaetano suddenly changed the subject:
"By the way, speaking of..."

He held the wine barrel, his tone becoming more casual:
"Did you know that your Chaotic Blood World is actually only 'lower-middle' in the ranking of wizarding civilizations?"

"what?"

The Grand Duke was stunned.

"Burp—slightly below average!"

The dwarf wizard took another large gulp of wine:
"Let me tell you, the wizarding civilization has a complete rating system for other worlds."

"There are twelve levels in total, from the lowest 'wasteland' to the highest 'god realm'."

He stretched out his finger, gesturing drunkenly:

"Your chaotic blood world... is probably 'slightly below average'."

"Why?"

The Grand Duke's tone was somewhat unbalanced:

"We have a vampire civilization, an industrial system, and so many resources here..."

"resource?"

Gaetano scoffed:

"Your proud 'Demonic Blood' is just an ordinary alchemical material in the main world."

"Unstable output, inconsistent quality, and various side effects."

"Compared to those high-magic worlds that abound in magic crystals, elemental essences, and even allow for the direct harvesting of 'fragments of rules'..."

He waved his hand:

"Your place? It's not worth mentioning."

These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over the Duke's head.

He opened his mouth, but didn't know how to refute it.

Because what the other party said... might be true.

"But..."

Gaetano swung the barrel of wine, his voice growing even more intoxicated:
"A low rating isn't necessarily a bad thing."

Do you know what happened to those 'divine realms'?

He lowered his voice mysteriously:

"Overexploited by wizards!"

"A dozen or so great wizards were stationed there, and hundreds of exploration teams took turns to go there, eager to search every inch of that world."

"Local civilization?"

The dwarf wizard sneered:

"It's either submission or destruction; there is no third option."

"And what's most terrifying is..."

A flicker of fear crossed his eyes:
“Those ‘divine realms’ will be incorporated into the ‘kingdoms’ of the Witch Kings, and then pulled into the ‘chessboard world’.”

"A vast world of chessboards?"

The Grand Duke repeated it unconsciously.

"Yes, the chessboard is a vast world!"

Gaetano slapped the barrel hard:
"That's...that's a place I don't really understand either."

"I heard, I heard..."

He gestured drunkenly:

"That's where the Witch Kings held their 'Civilization Ranking Wars'."

"They will place different advanced civilizations onto a huge 'chessboard,' causing these civilizations to fight, compete, and devour each other..."

"The ultimate winner will be able to obtain some kind of...unimaginable 'opportunity'."

"It is said that this is very important for the Witch King's promotion."

The dwarf wizard shook his head:
"Of course, these are all things I heard secondhand."

"After all, I'm just an old drunkard at the Dark Sun level; those mystical knowledge at the Witch King level are beyond my comprehension."

"but……"

He raised his head and looked at the Grand Duke:

"Just hearing these rumors is scary enough, isn't it?"

"View the entire universe as a chessboard, and civilizations as chess pieces..."

"This is the world as seen by the Witch Kings."

The Grand Duke felt a chill rise up his spine.

He suddenly realized that his understanding all along might have been like that of a frog in a well.

Vampire civilization? A world of chaotic blood?

In the eyes of truly great people, it may just be an insignificant piece on the "chessboard".

They don't even qualify to be "pawns".

"so……"

Gaetano finished his last sip of wine:

"You're doing fine the way you are now."

"Neither too high nor too low, neither too conspicuous nor too dangerous."

"The wizard civilization is too lazy to invest too many resources, and the vampire civilization can barely keep running."

"Let us live in peace and each get what we need."

"Why not?"

He let out a loud burp, and swayed unsteadily.
"Alright, alright, I'm sleepy, old man. If you don't have any other questions, don't disturb my sleep."

"Thank you for your explanation tonight."

The Grand Duke bowed deeply:
"I will definitely send you another case of fine wine another day."

"One case? That's not enough!"

Gaetano squinted:

"At least two boxes! And we'll also throw in ten kilograms of your vampire clan's specialty, 'Midnight Tobacco'!"

"no problem."

"Then it's settled!"

The dwarf wizard waved his hand:

“Remember what I told you today—don’t kill Ron Ralph, or even seriously injure him.”

"otherwise……"

His expression suddenly turned serious:

"Your Heart Clan may be facing an unprecedented catastrophe." As the words fell, the projection began to dissipate.

The blood mist gradually thinned, and the dwarf wizard's figure became increasingly blurred, eventually disappearing completely into the air.

The secret room fell into darkness again.

The Grand Duke stood alone in place, motionless for a long time.

The conversation kept replaying in his mind, each word feeling as heavy as lead.

"The backgrounds of the three witch kings, candidates for ancient alchemists, the seeds of wizarding civilization..."

He murmured to himself:
“This Ron Ralph is much more troublesome than I imagined.”

But on the other hand, his gaze fell on the document next to him.

That was Euphemia's complete archive, including all her research records, experimental data, and the latest formulation advancements over the past thirty years.

"But we must get our hands on Euphemia's formula."

The Grand Duke's fingers tapped on the armrest, the rhythm quickening:
"The problem of madness has become so serious that it can no longer be delayed. Last year, another marquis of the Heart Clan fell into a deep state of madness..."

"At most a hundred years, the entire vampire civilization will collapse."

"By then, the concepts of 'Witch King' and 'seed' will be meaningless."

"Because we... will cease to exist."

He took a deep breath and began to sketch out a new plan in his mind:

"Let Alex go all out and 'defeat' Ron Ralph in his strongest form."

"It's just defeating, not killing."

"As long as we can severely injure him, seize the formula, and then stop immediately."

"This way, we can achieve our goal without creating a deadly feud."

A cold smile crept across the Grand Duke's lips:
"As for the possible Witch King's wrath..."

"As long as it is kept within the scope of 'reasonable conflict,' it should be... acceptable."

He turned and walked deeper into the secret chamber, where much preparation still needed to be done.

Meanwhile, in a wizard's tower in a distant place.

Gaetano Reggio put down the barrel of wine in his hand, and the drunken look on his face disappeared completely.

Those eyes, which were originally dazed, were now terrifyingly clear.

"Tsk, acting must be tiring."

He stretched and loosened his stiff neck:

"But judging from the vampire duke's reaction, he must have taken it to heart."

The dwarf wizard walked to the window and looked out at the industrial area.

The enormous chimney was constantly spewing out thick smoke, and countless gears were turning with a roar.

This is the "legacy" he left behind in this world—the prototype of mechanical civilization.

"Five hundred years..."

He sighed softly:
“From initially coming to ‘monitor’ Aiden, he has now become the ‘balancer’ of this world.”

"Sometimes I can't tell whether I'm influencing the world or the world is changing me."

Just then, another communication array on the table lit up.

This magic circle is of a higher standard, with more intricate runes; it is clearly used to contact "important figures".

Gaetano walked over and infused it with magic.

A familiar figure emerged from the magic circle—Salamanda, the High Wizard guarding the World of the First Flame.

"Gaetano".

Salamanda's voice was steady and powerful:
"How did things go?"

"Do not worry."

Gaetano smiled:
“I have already put pressure on that vampire duke as you requested.”

"Everything that needed to be said has been said, and all the necessary warnings have been given."

"Now those vampires should be hesitant to kill Ron because they're afraid of harming him."

"That's good."

Salamanda nodded:
"Although I'm not that kid's babysitter, I still have to do something."

"Putting pressure on the vampires in this way, letting them know who's backing Ron, is enough."

"Next..."

He paused:

"It all depends on that kid's own abilities."

………………

The magic crystal lamp in the underground laboratory has been burning continuously for seventy-two hours.

Euphemia stood in front of the lab table, her shadow cast long and twisted on the wall, like some kind of withering vine.

In the glass test tube in my hand, the reagent is undergoing its final stabilization period.

thirty minutes.

Thirty-one minutes.

Thirty-two minutes.

She held her breath, her eyes fixed on the tube of dark red liquid.

The silver film on the surface began to shimmer, a final battle between "stability" and "pollutant concentration".

Thirty-six minutes.

The light film began to vibrate violently.

"No... just hold on... just one more time..."

Euphemia's voice was hoarse.

Thirty-seven minutes.

"Snapped."

The optical film shattered.

The medicine lost all its color, like a corpse whose soul had been taken away, settling into a lifeless, grayish-white liquid.

"Failed again..."

Euphemia helplessly put down the test tube.

She turned to sit down, but her legs gave way and she almost fell to the ground.

Barely managing to hold onto the edge of the lab bench, he slowly slid down to the floor.

The cold stone floor pressed against my back, the chill penetrating my thin lab coat and seeping into my bones.

But she no longer had the strength to stand up.

The vampire witch leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and let exhaustion wash over her like a tidal wave.

Three hundred and twenty-seven experiments.

Each time, they failed between the 30th and 40th minute.

Every time she thought she had found a breakthrough, reality always cruelly told her—you are still far from it.

"Why……"

She muttered to herself, her voice hoarse like wind and sand rubbing against rocks:
"It's theoretically feasible... all parameters are within safe limits..."

Why can't it be stabilized?

Countless failed samples were scattered on the lab bench.

The stagnant, grayish-white water lay silently in the glass containers, like small tombstones, burying her years of hard work.

"Perhaps... I'm really not cut out for this."

Euphemia shook her head self-deprecatingly.

Images from her time in the Central Lands flashed through her mind:
In Aiden's "petri dish," she was the only stable experimental subject who stood out, and at that time she firmly believed that she was special;
In Cassandra Tower Master's "Project Nova," she was selected as the third seat, a position that represented the wizarding world's recognition of her potential.
But now?

She built a city, took in hundreds of vampires, and saved countless lives from going berserk.

On the surface, he appears to have achieved great success.

In reality, he was a puppet who was merely figurehead, a "savior" who couldn't even control his own subordinates.

"I am too naive."

Euphemia admitted:

"They always thought that giving help would earn them loyalty, and giving benefits would earn them support."

"But I forgot..."

She opened her eyes, and her pupils reflected the swaying magic crystal lamp on the ceiling:

"The essence of vampires has always been 'betrayal' and 'desire'."

"Especially the vampires who were modified by that mad king."

Memories flooded back like a tide.

She recalled the scene when she first came into this world.

At that time, she still retained some of the innocence of a young girl, believing that with the knowledge she had learned in the main world and the power bestowed upon her by Nari, she could establish order in this chaotic land.

"Perhaps I went in the wrong direction from the very beginning."

Euphemia's fingers unconsciously traced the patterns on the ground:
“I treated this place as a branch of the wizarding world, thinking that I could govern it with academics and reason.”

"But in the world of vampires, the rules are never rational."

"It is power, it is fear, it is absolute violent suppression."

Just then, the communication crystal on the experimental platform suddenly lit up.

That was Ron's communication signal.

Euphemia's heart skipped a beat.

She subconsciously tidied her messy hair, wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, and tried to make herself look less disheveled.

But when she saw herself in the mirror, she gave up.

"never mind……"

She gave a wry smile:
"It's already like this, can it get any worse?"

The blood crystal began to glow, the light spreading from the edges to the center like ripples on the surface of water.

But while waiting for the communication to be established, her thoughts involuntarily drifted to the distant past.

It was an afternoon in the main world when Chloe invited her to play "Dragon Chess".

"Dragon Chess" is a board game that has been popular in the wizarding world for a long time, with extremely complex rules:

The chessboard is a 13x13 grid, and each player has 15 pieces.

The chess pieces are divided into five ranks: Peasant, Knight, Lord, Prince, and Dragon King;
The most unique rule lies in "devouring evolution":
Lower-level pieces can level up by consuming enemy pieces:
A farmer can evolve into a knight by devouring three enemy farmers;

A knight can evolve into a lord by consuming two enemy knights;

And so on, until it eventually evolves into the Dragon King;

"Eating" is not simply about occupying a space; you need to set "traps," you need "bait," and you need to make your opponent come to you willingly.

At the same time, there is a "fog zone" on the chessboard, where you cannot see the exact location of the opponent's pieces and can only make judgments through "scouting" and "reasoning".

What's more complicated is the "alliance mechanism," where you can temporarily ally with one of your opponent's pieces to fight against a third party, but the alliance can break down at any time...

Euphemia lost that game of chess utterly.

She remembered clearly that Chloe had lured her three "Lord" level pieces into an elaborate trap in just thirteen moves.

"You're too hasty."

Chloe commented at the time, her eyes, hidden by black silk, "looking" at the chessboard:

"You saw the 'bait' I put out in the open and thought it was an opportunity."

"But have you ever considered why I made the bait so obvious?"

"A true trap will never let you spot its flaws at first glance."

“It will disguise itself as an ‘opportunity,’ as a ‘benefit,’ or as ‘the reward you deserve.’”

The blind witch's fingers lightly traced across the chessboard:
"Your biggest problem is that you're too trusting."

"In Dragon Chess, every piece could be an ally disguised as an enemy."

"You think you're gathering strength, but you're actually supplying the enemy with nutrients."

"By the time you realize it..."

She picked up the three "Lord" pieces that had been devoured:
"Your core strength has become the ladder for the enemy's evolution."

After that game, Chloe played ten more games with her.

In each game, Euphemia was "educated" at different stages.

Sometimes, a mistake in the initial setup leads to being constrained in every aspect later on.
Sometimes, being too aggressive in the middle game allows the opponent to seize an opening and deliver a fatal blow.
Sometimes, indecisiveness in the endgame leads to missing the only chance to turn the tide...

"Your personality isn't suited to playing this kind of game."

Chloe gave her final assessment after the tenth inning:
“Excessive caution and excessive radicalism are essentially the same.”

"The former is driven by 'greed,' while the latter is driven by 'fear.'"

"But no matter which one it is, it is all controlled by 'emotions'."

"Dragon Chess doesn't test your reaction speed, nor your level of caution..."

The blind witch extended her cane and gently tapped Euphemia's forehead:
"The test is whether you can find a balance between 'greed' and 'fear'."

"Can you switch freely between 'offense' and 'defense'?"

"The most important thing is..."

Her voice turned serious:

"Can you see through your opponent's 'lies'?"

"Remember, Euphemia."

"In the game of power, the most dangerous thing is never the enemy's attack..."

"On the contrary, it is the enemy's 'goodwill'."

That game left a deep impression on Euphemia.

Unfortunately... she didn't really learn her lesson.

Or rather, she thought she had learned from it, but in reality, she was still making the same mistakes.

The mirror's reflection stabilized.

Ron's figure gradually became clearer in the light screen.

He still had that gentle demeanor, but his deep eyes now held a scrutinizing quality.

"Owner."

Euphemia knelt on one knee, her head bowed deeply:

"Your subordinate is guilty."

"Get up and talk."

Ron's voice was indifferent, revealing no emotion.

But the more indifferent she became, the more terrified Euphemia felt.

She slowly stood up, but still dared not look directly at the other person.

"I...I've let you down."

Her voice trembled:

"Over the past thirty years, I had hoped to establish a solid base that could provide sufficient support for your research..."

"But now..."

"I can't even protect my own territory."

"Our power has been undermined, key positions have been infiltrated, and we can't even be sure who is truly loyal..."

"I……"

She finally raised her head, her eyes red-rimmed.

"I am so incompetent."

Ron remained silent for a moment in the light screen.

Then he spoke:
“You do need to be punished.”

These words made Euphemia tremble.

“The punishments can wait until these internal strife are quelled.”

Ron's tone became pragmatic:
"Now, let's get down to business."

"Show me all the detailed information about those three people, as well as the distribution of power in Twilight City."

"Yes……"

Euphemia quickly turned around and began organizing the files.

But just as she bent over... (End of Chapter)