Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

The middle-aged witch from the Ash school stood up about forty seconds after the third discourse began.

She left slowly, deliberately, to ensure that enough people saw her stand up.

She was making a silent statement on behalf of the school of thought she represented.

The side door closed gently, and after a slight sound, the hall became even quieter than before.

Antigonus's pen hovered over the blank page of the notebook.

Lady Mercury lowered her head, her pupil-less eyes resting on her knees, motionless.

Salamanda lowered her leg that had been crossed over her shoulder.

Ron did not linger too long at the end of the third argument.

He paused the question for about five seconds before putting away the projector.

"That concludes today's discussion."

He left no room for debate:

"The Introduction to the Soul is an alchemical framework whose purpose is to understand the laws of transformation, rather than to interfere with any existing mechanisms."

If anyone here has any corrections regarding the literature or disagreements on the theoretical framework, my written contact information will be attached to the transcript of today's lecture.

He nodded slightly to the audience and walked down the steps.

Applause broke out about three seconds later, sporadic and cautious, but lasted a little longer than expected.

After the lecture, the communication network inside the Crystal Spire began to show intensive activity.

No one publicly announced that a meeting would be held, but by evening, a small conference room with a sign that read "Academic Committee" was already full of people.

There were projections of several great wizards, the Dark Sun Wizard himself was present, and a young scribe who was obviously there to record the contents of the meeting.

"Let me state my position first." The one who spoke was the only top-tier archmage present:

"Today's speech did not violate any explicit prohibitions on the surface."

I believe everyone here understands this.

“Literally.” Another projection of a high wizard repeated the word:
"That's the problem."

The debate then unfolded.

Supporters argue that Ron used an alchemical framework.

As an academic concept, the scope of discussion surrounding "Introduction to the Soul" remains within the permitted range.

He offered no operational guidance, did not address specific necronomical techniques, and did not publicly question any existing mechanisms.

This is merely a theoretical discussion; to prevent it is tantamount to preventing academic freedom.

Once this precedent is set, the subsequent impact will be difficult to estimate.

The opposition's argument is simple, almost naked: it's just necrophysics in a different guise.

"The forced interception of souls affects the stability of the rules layer"—in other words, it is a questioning of what a certain demon god did.

The speaker knows what he is saying, and the audience knows what he is saying.

The "alchemy framework" is nothing more than a thin veil, so thin that it cannot even conceal the intention behind it.

The largest faction remained silent and waited.

We await the reaction from the other side of the dead end, the determination of the Court of Truth, and more information to gradually surface in the coming days.

Before the full outline of an event is revealed, any premature statement is merely making a move for someone else's game.

The meeting ended quickly without a conclusion, so quickly that the clerk had almost nothing left to record.

Meanwhile, Ron found himself in a place that was completely unknown to the outside world.

He was walking down the stone steps into the underground level, his footsteps echoing softly in the stone corridor.

The lights were always on; Eve had instructed her to keep them on.

The reason is that "you always remember to come down suddenly, and if the lights are off, you're too lazy to look for the switch."

Inside the basement, the coffin lid was half-open, a recent change.

Before this, the coffin lid had always been completely closed, and the person inside had conserved their energy even to sense the outside world.

A half-open coffin lid is a sign of progress.

Eve sat on a chair beside the coffin, an open book on her lap, quietly keeping the person inside company.

Hearing footsteps, she looked up and put the book on the small table next to her.

"How was the presentation?"

“Nothing’s wrong.” Ron draped his robe over the back of his chair and sat down next to his wife. “At least not on the surface.”

What's underneath?

"Someone left midway through the meeting."

As soon as these words were spoken, there was an immediate movement inside the coffin.

"Which faction are you from?"

Ron turned his head to look into the coffin.

Cassandra's eyes were open.

Her complexion was better than the last time I saw her; she no longer looked as haggard as she had been the last time I saw her.

"An elder of the Tree of Life School, a Dark Sun level elder, came with a recording crystal ball, and deliberately slowed down his pace when he left."

"Ah."

Cassandra's eyes shifted slightly, as if she were recalling something:
"Do you know who helped Ashe and her gang get started back then?"

“I know a little,” Ron said. “The Tree of Life School, the first school of thought in the last era, is backed by that…”

"The King of Laughter." Cassandra uttered this long-established historical figure:
"He fought with the King of Evening Bell for the position of demon god for an entire era, but ultimately failed and perished completely."

Eve didn't interrupt, resting her chin on her hand as she listened quietly as her mother recounted this history.

"The King of Laughter protected the Tree of Life, and at that time, this school had the most complete necromancy tradition, unlike any other in the entire wizarding civilization."

Cassandra paused, then added:

"The King of Laughter is gone, and the King of Evening Bells is the final destination of death."

He won. Guess what the first thing He did after becoming a demon god was?

"Settle accounts with our enemies and destroy most of the Tree of Life's legacy."

This incident also triggered the complete ban on necromancy in the Fourth Age, something Ron knew by heart.

"It's not just useless."

A faint light emanated from inside the coffin, outlining the faint contours of Cassandra's face.
"He uprooted the roots, cleaned up the veins, destroyed the records, killed those who deserved to be killed, and suppressed those who deserved to be suppressed."

It's not just an academic 'ban on research,' it's a surgical excision, and then salt is rubbed into the wound after the excision is complete.

For countless years to come, whenever the Tree of Life school made any move, there were always people quick to jump in and kick it while it was down.

"Suppress them until they submit, and then give them a sweet treat."

They learned that there are benefits to staying still, and they did.

"What did you learn?"

"Read her expression." Cassandra's lips twitched slightly.
"Now, kneel down wherever death leads."

As soon as your third argument was presented, the elder immediately stood up.

Walking so slowly, as if afraid others won't see you—who are you trying to impress? Do you need to explain?

At this point, she made no attempt to hide her mockery of her former defeated opponent:
"Especially that woman, Ashe. She was the lover whom the King of Laughter raised since childhood. Now she's been trained into some kind of slave."

Ron's gaze lingered on Cassandra's face, noticing the same cold light in her eyes as always.

Indeed, Eve was right.

Her mother has indeed changed a lot, but some things are still deeply ingrained.

Thinking this way, he felt even more at ease.

"Their necromancy lineage," Ron thought for a moment, then spoke again, "has it been completely severed now?"

Cassandra's eyelids twitched slightly.

Why are you asking this?

"curious."

The coffin was quiet for a moment.

"Whether it's broken off or not," she finally said, "is not something I can answer for them."

Eve picked up the book again:
"Mom, you've been talking a lot more today than usual. Why are you suddenly so enthusiastic?"

"Hmm...it's alright, there's something worth talking about today."

"Now that you've finished speaking, take a break."

Cassandra did not protest, and her eyes closed again.

The basement returned to its quiet state, keeping the daytime hustle and bustle far away.

………………

After leaving the ancestral land, Ron returned to his office in the Crystal Spire to await news.

On the table were several documents that had been half-processed that day, and a cup of tea that Caroline had prepared, which was now completely cold.

He didn't touch the cup of tea, but sat down in the chair.

With his elbows resting on the edge of the table and his palms supporting his chin, he quietly stared at the empty space on the table.

Less than fifteen minutes later, there was a light knock on the door twice.

"Come in."

The person who pushed open the door was a middle-aged man wearing the uniform of a staff member from the Crystal Spire, who looked no different from any other ordinary clerk running errands and delivering documents inside the tower.

He walked in, stood in front of the table, and made no unnecessary movements.

He took a business card from his jacket pocket, placed it on the table, said casually, "Sorry to bother you," turned and left, closing the door behind him.

This series of actions was clean and efficient, yet it prevented Ron from asking any questions.

He could feel the oppressive pressure from the high-ranking person in the air, which prevented him from making any unnecessary movements.

Thinking of this, he looked down at the business card.

There was no name, position, or any text on the front. The coolness spread from the fingertips into the palm, making one unconsciously want to turn it over.

There is a line of text on the back, the handwriting is neat and the ink is fresh, as if it was just written recently:

"The third argument is 70% correct."

That's all there is to it.

Ron laid the business card flat and stared at it on the table for a long time.

He is leading you in the wrong direction.

Acelia's voice seeped from the depths of her consciousness:
"Telling you that you're 'right' is to make you feel like you can go deeper."

"I know."

"So you want to continue?"

“We must continue.” Ron’s fingers gently pressed down on the corner of the business card. “But in a different direction.”

He picked up the business card and ignited it with the power of his ethereal body.

The paper turned to ashes silently and dissipated into the cooling air.

Nari finally couldn't hold back any longer:

"Honey, what do you think the '70% correct' refers to?"

"If I knew which seven parts it was now, there would be no need for them to send me this business card."

So how do you plan to look for it?

Ron picked up the cup of cold tea again and took a sip: "Let's wait and see what else comes knocking."

The wait didn't last too many days.

Soon, a letter arrived in a very old-fashioned manner.

A trained monster raven, with glossy black feathers, had a thin cylinder engraved with wax tied to its claw.

The raven landed on the windowsill of his study, leaving the cylinder behind.

The cylinder contained a joint letter signed by seven people, sealed with the seal of the Grand Wizard.

The letter was short:

"Professor Ralph, we have been following your research for several years."

The topics you touched upon in your speech are things that we have all approached from different perspectives in private.

We have been discussing this issue, but we haven't made it public.

We would like to invite you to join a small research group. All members have conducted independent research on this topic and do not represent the official position of any school of thought.

If you are interested, please reply to this message.

Ron looked at each of the seven names that had been signed.

Some were people he knew, and some he only knew by name but had never met in person.

There are one or two names that are so unfamiliar that they need to be found in old academic documents.

This shows that they have not appeared in the academic community in a public manner for a long time.

"Soul Information Science Research Group." He spread the letter out on the table:

"This name was used very cautiously; changing even one word would have more than doubled the risk."

The letter did not give a deadline for replying. "They are doing similar things, but no one dares to say it out loud."

In the blank space at the end, he wrote three words with his own pen.

"I accept."

………………

On the other side, Chloe felt the fluctuations in her fate line.

It's not the slow, traceable flow of water you usually see.

She noticed something was wrong on the first day, and after confirming that it wasn't just her being paranoid, the frequency of her tremors began to become more regular.

She knew it was time.

Chloe opened the wooden box that was in the bottom drawer.

Seventy-eight cards, with star patterns embroidered in silver thread on a dark blue background.

"The first step in divination is to let go of your own will."

"Let the cards scatter on their own and find where they want to go."

You just need to be there, be an open window, not a clenched fist.

At that time, she couldn't fully understand the meaning of those words.

Later, as the nascent form of the ethereal body coalesced, the thread of fate began to gradually become clear in her "invisible" yet "visible" vision.

She slowly came to understand that it was a kind of epistemological honesty:

In the face of a true prophecy, the stronger the diviner's will, the greater the interference.

She gently pushed the cards outwards from the center, letting them slide along the table.

Until each one found its place and came to a standstill.

Then, she closed her eyes and began to collect the cards.

Pick them up one by one with your fingertips, letting your palm feel the slight temperature difference.

The slightly cool card, placed on the right, represents "outward power," a will that extends to the world;

The card with a slight warmth, placed on the left, represents "introverted power," a perception that draws inward.

Place the card with the same temperature as your body, where you can't feel any temperature difference, in the middle.

That is true resonance.

Chloe set the deck of Resonance cards aside and drew ten cards from it, one by one.

The formation has begun.

She placed the first one right in the center.

【Evening Bell - Upright Position】

The sign features a bronze bell suspended in the twilight, its surface covered in rust.

There is a shadow under the clock.

Many shadows, of various shapes, and countless curled-up figures were pressed under the clock, each maintaining the same posture.

Head bowed, arms clasped, waiting sorrowfully.

The evening bell represents the imprisoned and the unfinished cycle.

The conclusion that should have been completed was forcibly postponed, and the flow that should have been solidified.

Unable to move forward or dissipate, it can only exist permanently in a distorted way in a place where it should not exist permanently.

Her destiny, the Weaver Girl, upon sensing this card, automatically extended a thin line of perception outwards.

The sensory ray touched something and bounced back.

Chloe recognized that aura.

As the park rapidly disintegrates, it will exude a breath from its increasingly loose boundary cracks, much like when she first ventured into the park.

She readjusted her breathing and continued.

[Reversed]

The sign for "Sealed" is a stone gate.

There were countless locks on the door, layer upon layer.

New locks pressed down on old locks, some rusted shut, others still gleaming with a magical sheen.

Light shone through the crack in the door.

The reversed sealing means that those locks are no longer locks; they loosen little by little, loosen, loosen...

The locked items had accumulated for far too long, to the point that cracks began to appear along the edge of the door.

"Things that were deliberately suppressed in the past are breaking out of their shells in their own way."

Those histories, secrets reinforced layer by layer by the entire system of order.

The stories, anger, and pent-up emotions of those who spent centuries in the park slowly spilled out into the outside world as the park crumbled.

This is not a sign; this is what is happening.

[The Way Home - Reversed]

Below represents "the reality that is about to appear".

A long journeyer has finally returned to where he started.

Returning to the place he once promised to come back to—perfection, completion, a closed loop.

Reversed, it means you've just started your journey home, only to find your path blocked.

【Chariot - Upright Position】

The left side represents the "known path".

Chloe turned over this card and barely needed to stop to interpret it.

The witch placed the card in its proper place and silently sensed the person's current state.

Knowing that the other party was probably free and could lend her a hand, she didn't linger on that card for too long.

The Tower (Upright)

The right side represents an "unknown fork in the road".

The last time she did a reading for Ron, she flipped to the reversed Tower.

At the time, she interpreted it as: "Reversed means that the change will be slower and more subtle, rather than sudden like the upright one."

There is a buffer, there is time, and there is room for the word "gradually" to be used.

This time, it's upright.

Chloe's hand lingered on the cards longer than usual.

That's the smell of blood.

Rust, salt, and the sweetness of burnt meat.

"The Tower in its upright position."

"This time, there was no buffer; the word 'gradually' has been removed."

The four diagonal positions form the outer framework of the card spread.

The Alchemist (Reversed) is located in the top left corner.

Some people are misusing the power of creation.

A pair of hands held a crucible, the contents of which had overflowed, burning through the tabletop and the ground, and continued to sink.

The King reversed, located in the upper right corner, indicates that the existing framework of order is failing.

The Star (upright) is located in the lower left corner.

The only card in the entire spread that is completely upright.

A pure upright position, without any obstruction.

In that darkness surrounded by all sorts of ominous omens, there was a window that someone had specially left open for someone else—small, faint, yet real.

This means that even if the tower collapses and the cycle breaks down.

Those things that were forcibly interrupted finally surged outwards in the most chaotic way.

However, there is still a path that can be taken and is passable.

The "Judgment" position, located in the bottom right corner, is the correct position.

The trumpet has sounded, and judgment has begun.

Chloe stretched that sensory line a little longer.

The artisan's labyrinth, the lines stopped there, the edges began to blur.

There is only one summary card on the outermost layer.

She turned the card over and placed it on the outermost side of the card spread.

That position, which follows the traditional layout of the "Cross of Fate," is known as the "Final Witness."

The Traveler (Upright)

The Traveler, the zeroth card.

In the complete system of seventy-eight cards, the Traveler does not have a fixed position in the sequence.

It is that which wanders outside the numbering, that existed before the loop started, and that will continue to wander after the loop ends.

Zero is not the first number, but it appeared before other numbers.

The young man on the card was carrying a bag containing an unknown amount of stuff.

His eyes were fixed on the sky, one foot on the edge of the cliff, the other foot gently raised on tiptoe, ready to take that step forward at any moment.

The Traveler in the upright position represents "the leap of faith".

I saw the abyss, and I also saw what was on the other side of the abyss. I chose to jump.

Chloe collected the cards and put them back into the wooden box one by one.

The trembling of the fate line briefly stopped, and a presence had already stopped outside his door.

She had only encountered that scent once, at that "sharing banquet".

Chloe moved the teacup to the left and placed the divination cards in the center of the table.

The curtains were drawn a third of the way open, letting in a sliver of light.

The witch sat up straight in the chair and sensed the direction of the airflow in the divination room.

“Your Excellency Valdis,” she gestured for the guest to sit down, “you have been standing at the door for several minutes now.”

There was no sound coming from outside the room.

“Given your current condition,” Chloe added:

“I judged it by the change in the concentration of the residual scent; when you were there, it would seep in this direction.”

The space seemed to ripple in an indescribable way, and Valdis appeared in the doorway.

The baby's cry, the boy's eyes, the width of a middle-aged man's shoulders, the old man's wrinkled skin, and the occasional glimpse of rotting flesh...

Chloe's Fate Weaver appears, unfolding a thin barrier around her.

"You've improved."

Valdis found a chair opposite her and sat down.

“The last time you came to visit,” he said, “you were thrown in.”

"I invited you in this time," Chloe said, not denying it. "That's quite an improvement."

“Progress,” Valdis repeated the word.
"For thousands of years, no one has used the word 'progress' to describe their entry into my field."

What words do they usually use?

"Run," he said. "Or cry."

Chloe drew the last card from the deck.

The Traveler (Upright)

With the card face up and away from the light source, the thin silver line became even clearer.

"The task I have given you at the end of death is to end me."

She said this in a declarative tone.

"Yes."

Why do you think it should be me?

"Because you can see the lines of fate." Valdis answered without hesitation:

"At the end of death, I don't want anyone to see the line of fate too clearly at this time."

"And...to be honest," he said, switching to a middle-aged voice.
"I've been thinking for a long time that if I had to choose a way to dissipate, dissipating after completing this task might be the most suitable moment for me."

Chloe did not answer immediately.

The Weaver Girl of Fate secretly plucked a thread, the other end of which was connected to the remaining time density of Valdis at this moment, confirming that he was telling the truth.

“Lord Valdis,” she touched her cane, “when you helped me in the park, were you truly sincere, or were you gambling?”

The shift in time formats slowed down significantly after this issue.

The baby giggled incessantly, the middle-aged man coughed softly, and the old man struggled to breathe; their voices overlapped, yet were no longer jarring.

“Both,” he finally said. “Gambling is what I can do; helping is what I want to do.”

Upon hearing this, Chloe suddenly reached out and removed the silk covering her eyes. (End of Chapter)