Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

No one responded, because the logic itself was irrefutable.

The next moment, the will of the King of Stability descended.

He condensed the message into a few extremely simple statements, offering no room for explanation:
Since this major overhaul, the rating system has adjusted the weighting of the "civilization authenticity" dimension.

The weight of the survival indicator has been reduced from 30% to 15%.

The authenticity indicator is newly added and has a weighting of 20%.

Effective date of the transfer of rights: at the start of this round of major liquidation.

That's all.

The King of Stability does not explain the reasons, nor does he invite anyone to discuss them.

The will descended, finished its statement, and then silently retreated, leaving no trace that could be used to refute it.

No one spoke again, because everyone knew that the first person to jump out and question after the King of Stability had just finished speaking would be particularly glaring, no matter what they said.

Ron didn't move.

He remained seated, his hands on his knees, his gaze fixed on the hill where the last flame had been extinguished.

"They chose to go into the fire; for them, it was like going home."

The thought flashed through his mind.

Meanwhile, after the results were announced, the Blue Garden fell silent.

The surface of the large lotus seedpod was smoother than ever before.

Aish made no statement or called anyone to a meeting.

Serafina stood outside the lotus seedpod for an entire day.

By evening, the light in the Azure Garden had turned into a somber blue-gray.

She then realized that she wouldn't receive any instructions that day.

So she put the documents away herself, turned around, and went to deal with the cleanup work that wouldn't wait for anyone.

Some of the cleanup work was done silently.

The subordinate witches, who had previously received a large amount of resources under the pretext of "green tide expansion," have begun to quietly adjust their research direction in the past few days.

When a large tree begins to sway, the small animals clinging to it will always sense the tremor in advance and react sooner.

Serafina wrote these down and would discuss them later when Ashe appeared.

Maybe she'll never come out.

Maybe she'll come out tomorrow, as if nothing ever happened.

The resource quota adjustments of the School Alliance take effect immediately.

This is a system that doesn't require anyone's approval; the data migration was completed automatically within the system.

Ron's new usage time and grid expansion permissions were sent to his communication stone in the form of an official document.

He glanced at the document and put it at the bottom of the stack of notes on the table.

Outsiders, the result of "perfect score in civilization complexity" was analyzed and published in an article less than two days after the announcement of the Great Purge.

The article had a very ordinary title and its content wasn't particularly profound.

But it touched on a question that everyone vaguely knew about, but no one had ever formally raised:
On the small chessboard, are we placing lives or tools?

Green tides are plant communities that simulate wisdom through collective consciousness;
Iron tides are a mechanical population that uses algorithms to simulate decision-making;
Abyssal beings are combat units that simulate the will to survive through evolutionary pressure.

They each have their own complexities, but none of them have ever generated spontaneous debate.

A love affair that transcends factions can trigger a transformation in an entire civilization;
Even after knowing that they were designed, they still chose to walk towards the end in their own way.

There are descendants.

The creator of the Bloodline, Ron Ralph, used a technological approach that no one could completely replicate.

At its core, the Echoing Tree within the "Trinity Symbiotic System" touches upon the boundaries of necronomics.

The study of necromancy is strictly prohibited within the Alliance of Schools.

There is also "chaotic harmony".

Within the entire sphere of influence of the wizarding civilization, only he could play this card.

The discussion sparked by that article then spread from internal academic networks to a wider circle in the following days.

………………

Early in the morning, Antigonus had already arrived at the gate of the northern manor.

He knocked twice, and the door opened after a moment.

Antigonus walked in and pushed the beautifully bound ranking certificate onto the table.

"Congratulations, Professor Ralph."

"It is extremely rare for a newcomer to win first place in the overall competition in their first competition."

He said:

"What's even more remarkable is that the opponent you defeated was Ashe, who had been cultivating this land for thousands of years."

Ron took the certificate and casually placed it on the table, his expression not changing much.

Antigonus accepted the tea from Caroline and thanked her.

"I've come to remind you of something."

His fingers gently rested on the rim of the teacup:

"The ranking on the small chessboard will directly affect the allocation of resources for the Archmage in the School Alliance."

"You taking first place means that a significant portion of the rewards that originally belonged to Ashe will be transferred to you in the next round of allocation."

He paused slightly:
"For a top-tier archmage who is currently undergoing the repair of his ethereal body, this is not just a matter of face."

“I know,” Ron replied succinctly. “What suggestions does Lord Antigonus have?”

Antigonus thought for a moment:

"I suggest you keep a low profile for the next period of time."

He said, "Ashe's roots here have been there for so long that even with this setback, her network of relationships is still there."

If she chooses to characterize this as 'being targeted,' it will cause you unnecessary trouble.

Lady Mercury swayed gently behind her, as if silently agreeing.

“Furthermore…” Antigonus changed his tone, shifting from a reminder to a more casual, businesslike manner:

"Those otherworldly creatures you deployed throughout the server must be completely retrieved or disposed of according to regulations after the Great Purge. This task will take three months of Main World time."

“It’s already underway.” Ron nodded.
"The Time-Devouring Leech exhausted its energy in the final battle and has entered hibernation on its own. I have sealed it back into the space behind the door."

The Fear Condensate and the Flesh have been recovered; the Dream-Eating Winged Serpent and the Deep Cave Bard are still on their way back and should be back within seven days at the latest.

After listening, Antigonus nodded slightly.

"That's good." He stood up and straightened his cuffs.
"There's one more small matter. Inside the Crystal Spire, we'd like to invite you to give a public lecture on creation experiments at an academic forum."

He said this with a hint of pleading, as if he were being asked to do so:
"You can refuse, but if you are willing to accept, the timing... will allow many people who were originally hesitant about you to make a choice ahead of time."

He didn't make his point clearer.

The art of speaking is to leave enough blank space at the right time, allowing the other person to fill it in themselves.

“I will consider it,” Ron said. “Thank you for the reminder, Lord Antigonus.”

After Antigonus left, he sent Eve a short message.

"You'll be in seclusion for a while, don't worry."

The black-haired princess's reply was almost instantaneous:
“Every time you say don’t worry, that’s when I’m most worried. Advisor, you better be on your best behavior.”

After replying, Ron lowered the frequency of the communication stone's light, put it in his spatial bag, and then began his formal seclusion.

When the millennia-long history of civilization of the bloodline was compressed at an accelerated pace, he observed it from the perspective of an outsider.

But now, the Great Liquidation is completely over, and the flow of time in the grid has returned to zero.

The energy that had been pent up for too long—memories, choices, echoes—had lost its last dam.

They surged back to their original source along the spiritual roots of the Echoing Tree in an unstoppable manner.

The source was Ron.

The first leader took that first step on that cold night, his legs trembling before he even stepped out.

But he left anyway, something heavier than fear had overwhelmed him.

The first lightsmith, in his seventy-third experiment, had a moment of sudden enlightenment.

From "I succeeded" to "Oh, I see".

Complete ease, a release from confusion.

The medium stood before the ashes of the tree, silently weeping.

She pressed her palm against the scorched ground, letting the warmth slowly flow into her palm.

The general was old. Walking along the border, he looked back once.

With just one glance, he turned around and stepped into the fire without hesitation.

These are not Ron's memories.

Yet they resonated in my consciousness in a completely authentic way.

When a stone is thrown into deep water, no matter who owns the stone, the ripples always belong to the lake itself.

Those moments, layer upon layer, heavy yet vibrant.

In the gaps between those moments, something broader gradually emerges.

Looking down from above, a river that was previously barely visible when walking on it began to become clear.

Seeds germinate into trees, and over time, these trees grow into a vast network of roots that supports the memory and beliefs of the entire community.

Then, amidst the chaos, they burned and collapsed, turning into charcoal, sinking into the soil, and becoming nutrients.

Creation never ceases, destruction is never finished.

They are two sections of the same river, yet they always share the same riverbed.

This is not a new proposition.

In alchemical texts, countless people have described similar things in countless ways.

Conservation of matter, conservation of energy, the flow and reincarnation of the soul.

When Ron was young, he also memorized these theories from Mrs. Allen.

At the time, I only regarded it as a philosophical concept, but when it came to the assessment, I could talk about it in a very logical and eloquent way.

Being able to recite is one thing, but truly "knowing" it is another.

At this moment, he truly understood.

Turn lead into gold, herbs into medicine, and ores into weapons.

Those are the outermost, most easily visible layers.

The essence of alchemy is transformation itself.

Understanding change, no matter how radical or irreversible it may seem, is simply a flow between different forms.

The psychic chose to turn to ashes during meditation.

In her own way, she returned what she had accumulated throughout her life to the tree that had nurtured her.

The tree burned, turning into light and heat.

Light and heat diffused into the air, and on a certain morning, the air turned into dew, which nourished the seeds.

The universe will not waste any story.

The names of ancient alchemists surfaced in his mind one by one:

Lansherwitt's technology, acquired at the cost of others, also contains genuine insights;
Alexander King transformed himself into a living laboratory, and in losing his humanity, he touched the very thin boundary between matter and life.

Elena Moonlight attempted to materialize emotions, and she actually succeeded.

They had all touched upon some corner of that secret, but each of them went astray in their own way.

Ron had no idea how long he had been submerged in the depths of that consciousness.

When he resurfaced and sensed the outline of the outside world, the "understanding" that had accumulated for too long on the inner wall of the void was transforming into a more concrete and stable structure.

The way he connects with the three arts of alchemy, potion-making, and enchanting is undergoing a qualitative change.

From "user" to "understander".

The existence of the profession panel has long ceased to manifest in external form since he broke through to the Great Wizard level.

Those data and conditions have been completely internalized into the void itself, becoming a part of its existence.

A tree doesn't need to constantly look back to count its rings; the rings are there, recording everything that has truly happened.

He sensed that all those conditions had now been met.

The Potions Professor's advancement was completed long ago.

Among the students trained, several have already reached the level of professional potion masters, having long since surpassed that threshold.

The alchemist's "semi-perpetual motion device," a battlefield simulation sandbox, has been in operation for many years and meets the requirements.
"Life reconstruction"—bloodline itself is the best proof. The integration of biological characteristics from seven different sources into the same race is not just an experiment; it is a civilization.

The rune expert's "flesh and blood runes" had long since quietly crossed that threshold through years of practice in the chaotic world of blood and the city of twilight, but he himself had never defined it within that framework.

There was also the last condition, the one that he initially thought would take a long time to process—"gaining the approval of an ancient alchemist."

The legacy of the King of Perfection is already there.

Now, after the Great Purge ended, before the brief will of the Steadfast King departed, it lingered for a moment longer in Ron's direction.

The conditions were exceeded. Within the mental landscape, changes quickly began:

The understanding and accumulation from various branches of the three-phase technique.

In that lingering resonance, they began to converge towards the same center.

Alchemy's material insight, potion's potential guidance, and enchanting's rule-based language.

They are not three parallel roads, but rather three slopes of the same mountain.

People climbing mountains think they are on completely different paths when they stand on different slopes.

Now that he had reached the mountaintop and looked back, he could see that all three paths led to the same place.

The last blank in the career advancement requirements has been filled in.

[Ancient Alchemist (Four-Star), successfully advanced]

That elusive crown, always hovering atop the void.

The crown has been there ever since he broke through to the level of a great wizard.

Previously, only three gems were lit, symbolizing the three pillars.

Now, the fourth one has quietly lit up.

The color of that gemstone was different from the other three.

The other three, each bearing the undertones of starlight, chaos, and thunder, are clearly distinct.

And this fourth one is fluid.

Creation and destruction, within the same gem, share the same light.

An ancient alchemist, he succeeded.

After that, a few lingering images drifted through his consciousness one last time before dissipating.

Lansherwitt, that imprint contains unspoken regrets, and the last sentence he wrote in his diary but never published:

"If there is an afterlife, I hope to find a research method that does not require sacrificing others."

The "if" in that sentence is true.

Alexander Jin's mark is one of utter emptiness, a transparent, endless emptiness.

Elena Moonlight, that imprint is mad and beautiful, an obsession with the essence of emotion.

In her final years, she became one with the entity she hated, yet she still retained a longing for beauty.

They appeared, lingered for a moment, like three beams of light from the far distance, arriving and then dissipating.

This is a method that has existed since ancient times in the tradition of ancient alchemists:

We were here, and you are here now.

Ron never described that period of seclusion in detail to anyone.

When Eve asked, he only said, "It felt like I had slept for a long time and had a very long dream."

After hearing this, the black-haired princess said, "Then remember to tell me next time you dream."

They then changed the subject.

Acelia then asked him directly:
What did you see?

Ron thought for a moment and answered in the same concise way:

“Those ancient alchemists passed through my mind once more.”

"how do you feel?"

"It felt like those people took turns walking past me and patting me on the shoulder."

Acelia didn't ask any further questions, only humming in response.

Nari was excited for a long time, nagging him to tell her every detail.

After talking for so long, he finally got sleepy and curled up in a corner of the abyss, hugging his tentacles.

After the retreat ended, the academic alliance quickly sent the lecture invitation.

The meeting was scheduled for two months from now, at the main academic hall of the alliance headquarters.

The format is that it is a public lecture, and any qualified wizard can attend as an observer.

They didn't specify a topic, only adding a small note at the end of the invitation: "Looking forward to Professor Ralph's sharing."

Ron placed the invitation on the table, looked at it for a while, then took out a pen and wrote a title on a piece of paper.

He paused, crossed it out, and changed to another one.

I paused again, crossed it out, and changed it again.

The third time, after writing it down, he put down his pen and didn't move it again:

On “Completion” of Death as a Form of Alchemical Transformation

………………

The main academic hall of the Crystal Spire, built in the middle of the Third Age, is the highest-level public debate venue in the entire alliance of schools.

At 2:00 PM sharp, the hall was already packed.

Not only were the seats full, but people were also standing in the aisles, and the side doors were open.

People were also leaning against the pillars outside the door, craning their necks slightly, trying to see the stage over the shoulders of those in front.

In addition, many great wizards, who are rarely seen, have also come.

This is an extremely unusual sight for a public speech.

The usual practice is to give two as a courtesy.

For the rest, either send a politely worded rejection letter or simply don't respond at all.

After all, the great wizards have their own time to spare and don't need to waste it on such ceremonies.

Today is different; it was destined from the moment that speech announcement was posted.

It wasn't entirely because of Ron's own reputation, but mainly because he chose a rather dangerous topic.

On “Completion” of Death as a Form of Alchemical Transformation.

The topic itself has already attracted all sorts of interpretations and speculations within the academic alliance's internal messaging network.

Some say it was a deliberate provocation, some say it was a publicity stunt, and some say it was a stone thrown at the boundaries of the rules.

Before the stone falls into the water, no one can be sure how deep the water is.

In any case, no one who sees this topic can truly feel at ease staying elsewhere.

Antigonus arrived first.

He sat in the second row of the main guest seats, neither too conspicuous nor too far from the stage, where he could have a clear view of everything.

Lady Mercury sat down half a step to his right, her long silver hair cascading over her shoulders, silent and beautiful.

Antigonus held a leather notebook in his hand, the pen tip hovering over a blank page, waiting for something worth recording.

Vinard himself did not come; he asked Ella to attend on his behalf, with the wording "to listen in on his behalf and report back later."

These words were perfectly conventional, but after Ella sat down, she subconsciously gripped the communication stone in her hand, ready to send a message to the distant end at any moment.

Salamanda, carrying an old leather folder, strode in, glanced at the front row, and, finding it too crowded, went straight to the back.

The Flame Giant extinguished his flames, casually leaned back in his chair, and crossed one leg, as if he were there to sit in on some boring public lecture.

A little later, several figures appeared silently in the corner at the back of the hall.

Their auras were deliberately suppressed, and it would be difficult to detect that they were all great wizards unless one sensed them carefully.

The probability of such individuals appearing together in public speaking situations is roughly equivalent to the probability of a white crow landing in a square.

The Tree of Life school did not send a great wizard.

The bright-eyed girl had planned to come and had even changed her outfit for the occasion.

But as soon as she stepped out the door, preparing to tear through space, a soft, limp vine hooked around her lower back.

Representing her was a stern-faced middle-aged witch, a Dark Sun-level wizard, who sat in the front seat with her back ramrod straight and a recording crystal ball beside her.

At exactly two o'clock, the black-robed wizard stepped onto the stage.

There were no introductions from others, nor any elaborate opening remarks.

The Crystal Spire doesn't have this tradition; truly influential speakers don't need others to set up their stages for them.

Ron stood on the stage, his gaze sweeping from the front row to the back, and after counting the people, he began to speak:

What is the essence of alchemy?

The very first sentence presented a grand proposition that made many people in the audience frown.

"Most people's answer is 'conversion' - which is correct, but incomplete."

"Today, I want to discuss a special form of transformation."

To be precise, it is the least studied of the transformation forms.

His gaze fell on the audience.

"die."

When that word fell, even the whispers disappeared.

Ron continued without pausing:
"Don't misunderstand me. I'm not discussing how to manipulate death, nor am I questioning the legitimacy of any existing system of rules."

I'm discussing a purely alchemical question: In the transformative process of death, what is information preserved, and what is lost?

He turned around, and the projection lit up at his will, contrasting with the neatly arranged characters floating on the stage:

Combustion of matter → release of heat energy + residual ash (conservation of matter)
Magic dissipation → Return to the Law Layer (Energy Conservation)
Soul death → ??? (Currently, there is no systematic research on this)
"For the first two types of transformation, alchemy already had a mature theoretical framework."

Ron's finger lightly traced the three lines of text:
"Conservation of matter and conservation of energy are fundamental principles that any novice can memorize."

"The third one... He lightly tapped the question mark with his index finger:"
"I'm tentatively calling it 'Introduction to the Soul,' as it's still in its infancy."

Why is it blank?

He asked himself and answered:
"Everyone who studies it seriously eventually has to stop before a certain line."

The lingering attention in the hall formed a forest of people holding their breath.

Ron divides "Introduction to the Soul" into three parts, which are then developed sequentially.

The first argument is the theory of preservation.

"The soul is a special kind of information carrier, and similar expressions have been found in the manuscripts of the Second Age."

The question is, 'Where does this information go when the soul dies?'

He displayed a simplified structural diagram on the projector:
"There is a principle in the existing framework that has been repeatedly verified—information does not disappear, it only changes form."

Water evaporates into gas, but its molecular structure remains; light is absorbed by matter, and energy is transferred in another form. But what about the soul?

"A highly complex soul, such as a top-tier archmage, has undergone a deep fusion with the rules of the world through the void."

What they released when they died was more than just energy.

It contains structures, patterns, and hundreds of millions of interconnected nodes that disintegrate in an instant.

In what form do those things continue to exist?

"This is the question we want to answer in the first discussion."

No one stood up to interrupt, but several high priests in the front row had already begun writing in their notebooks.

The second theory is the theory of residual structures.

"The death of a high-ranking wizard can sometimes trigger strange phenomena in the heavens and earth; this is common knowledge that everyone here knows."

The common explanation is: a large-scale release of magic caused tremors in the rules governing the universe.

After finishing his explanation, Ron added his own conclusion: "This explanation is not complete."

There are two kinds of unusual phenomena in the heavens and earth.

One type is energy-based, with a massive scale and wide range, such as tsunamis and earthquakes, which are pure releases of power;

Another type is structural – the scope may not be large, but there are regular patterns.

"The second type of celestial phenomena is the phenomenon that the theory of residual structures focuses on."

He brought up several historical records on the projector, spanning a long period between the Third and Fourth Ages:

"These are a few cases I selected from the records of anomalous events related to the deaths of some great wizards in the Crystal Spire Archives."

They share a common characteristic—the presence of identifiable structures within the visions.

"If death is merely the release of energy, where do those structures come from?"

At the end of this discussion, he did not provide an answer, leaving the question on the projection.

Next, the third argument.

Ron walked to the center of the stage and stopped.

"There is a universal standard in alchemy for judging the quality of a transformation—the degree of completion."

"Metals that are not smelted properly may appear intact on the surface, but they may break at any time under pressure."

"Death, as a form of transformation, also has the issue of 'completeness'."

"Natural death, within the framework of Introduction to Alchemy, is a relatively complete transformation."

“But there is a type of death that is an ‘unfinished transformation’ that has been interfered with…”

What happens to the substance left in an intermediate state when an alchemical experiment is forcibly stopped halfway through?

He presented one last question on the projector:
What impact would artificially intercepted souls have on the stability of the rules?
This time, sounds quickly filled the hall. (End of Chapter)