Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

Inside the stone house, the purification array was operating stably.

Ian sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion, holding the silver-white demon hunter jade token in his hand.

After the permissions were updated, a faint but continuous flow of information appeared inside the jade tablet.

Information about the various official wizards who can access the stronghold.

One of them caught his attention.

The monthly "New Wizard Exchange Meeting" will be held tomorrow evening at 8 PM in the "Starlight Hall" of the central fortress (Eastern Theater Command).

"Exchange meeting..." Ian muttered to himself.

He recalled one of the permissions Eugene had mentioned.

"Gah! A party? Is there something good to eat?" Gah popped out of the shadows, its little eyes sparkling.

"A wizard's gathering, not a banquet," Ian chuckled, ruffling its head.

"However, there should be some energy fruits or drinks for the guests."

"An energy fruit will do! Quack!" Quack flapped its wings. "Take me there!"

Ian thought about it.

Familiars are not uncommon in formal wizarding circles, so bringing Gaga along isn't unusual.

Furthermore, Gaga's [Ominous Eyes] can sense emotional fluctuations, which might be useful in that situation.

"Okay, but be quiet and don't run around."

"Keep it quiet! Gaga!" Gaga immediately puffed out her little chest, then asked slyly.

"Then... can you pack it up?"

Ian glanced at it helplessly.

"It depends."

The following evening, at 7:45.

Ian changed into a clean gray robe, not the standard robe of Shadowmoon Tower, but an ordinary wizard's robe he had bought at the outpost market.

The design is simple and lacks any faction markings.

He didn't intend to emphasize his "Shadowmoon Tower" identity at the party, as that would only attract unnecessary attention or hostility.

Sterling's situation remains a potential problem.

Gaga shrank in size and squatted on his left shoulder, like an inconspicuous little gray bird.

Only when those heterochromatic eyes occasionally moved did a glint of extraordinary light flash across them.

"Remember, don't talk nonsense, use telepathy," Ian reminded him again.

"Okay, okay, quack." Quack covered its mouth with its wings, but its eyes looked around curiously.

Step out of your dwelling and descend the suspended stone steps, passing through several corridors.

Deep within the central fortress, before a heavy oak door.

Two apprentices with silver rings stood before the gate, their auras solid, both at the peak of advanced apprenticeship.

Upon seeing Ian approach, the two bowed simultaneously.

"My lord, please show me the jade token."

Ian handed over the silver-white jade pendant.

One of the apprentices took out a crystal and lightly swept it across the jade pendant.

hum.

The jade pendant glowed faintly, and Ian's access information appeared on the crystal.

"Wizard Ian, please come in."

The apprentice respectfully pushed open the oak door.

Behind the door was a spacious circular hall.

The dome is about ten meters high and is inlaid with hundreds of tiny luminous crystals arranged in a slowly rotating star map, casting a soft, moonlight-like glow.

In the center of the hall, twelve high-backed chairs were arranged in a circle.

Next to each chair was a small table with a silver tray on it.

Inside were several fruits emitting faint energy fluctuations, and a steaming, bright green drink.

Seven chairs were already occupied.

The moment Ian stepped in, seven pairs of eyes were cast upon him simultaneously.

There was scrutiny, curiosity, indifference, and also a subtle hostility.

He could clearly sense that all seven of them were first-level wizards, though their auras varied in strength.

The strongest are those whose spiritual energy has reached the late stage of atomization, easily accessing Cola Novels and enjoying countless good books such as "The Wizard: My Skills Can Break Through Infinitely." The weakest are those who have just stabilized their realm.

They varied in age, ranging from their early twenties to their forties and fifties, and wore robes of various colors, representing different factions.

"Another one has arrived."

A red-haired witch sitting on the east side spoke. She wore a crimson robe, exuded a scorching aura, and had a somewhat aggressive look in her eyes.

"Judging by his appearance, he must have just been promoted recently? Which family is he from?"

Ian did not answer immediately, but walked to an empty chair and sat down calmly.

Gaga jumped off his shoulder and landed on the edge of the small table, its little paws quietly reaching for a pale blue berry.

"The Lone Ranger, from the Eastern Seventh War Zone," he said calmly, giving his name but not mentioning his family.

The red-haired witch raised an eyebrow; it was as good as saying nothing at all.

After a brief response, Ian picked up the glass of bright green drink and took a sip.

The fresh scent of herbs, with a subtle calming effect, suggests it's a blend of some kind of soothing herbs.

"A lone traveler?" Another male wizard, dressed in a dark blue robe with tide patterns on the cuffs, looked over and spoke in a gentle voice.

"It's not easy to be promoted as a lone wolf on the underground front lines."

He was a wizard of the Tide People, his aura as calm as water.

"Luck." Ian took a sip of his drink and glanced at everyone present.

Besides the red-haired witch and the Tideborn, two other people caught his attention.

One was an elderly man sitting on the north side, dressed in a simple gray robe, his aura as restrained as stone.

Holding an inconspicuous wooden cane in his hand, he closed his eyes to rest, seemingly indifferent to his surroundings.

But Ian's senses told him that this old man had the most solid aura in the entire room.

It is at least in the later stages of atomization, and may even have touched the threshold of liquefaction.

She glanced at Ian once after he came in, then stopped paying attention, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the hilt of her sword.

"Whether you're a rogue cultivator or a member of a family, since you're sitting here, you're all of the same level."

A young sorcerer, dressed in a faded, grey council robe and with a pale face, spoke in a sinister tone.

"However... as is customary at gatherings, shouldn't newcomers introduce their areas of expertise? That would be helpful for future 'collaborations'."

He emphasized the word "cooperation".

Ian looked at him.

The wizards of the Withered Council always give off an unsettling feeling.

Lifeless, his eyes filled with scrutiny and calculation.

"Potions, and some elemental magic as well," Ian said calmly.

"A potion master?" The red-haired witch's eyes lit up. "What rank?"

"First tier".

"That's good too," the Tideborn wizard nodded.

"Potion masters are scarce on the front lines, especially those skilled in concocting potions that restore mental energy."

"Hmph, a first-tier alchemist can only concoct some basic potions."

The wizards of the Withering Council were unimpressed, saying, "The truly precious formulas won't fall into the hands of rogue cultivators."

Ian didn't reply, but just took another sip of his drink.

Gaga has already secretly finished one berry and is now reaching for the second one with her little paws.

Stopped by Ian's look, it reluctantly withdrew its paw.

At this moment, the old man who had been resting with his eyes closed slowly opened them.

His eyes were cloudy, yet they revealed a profound understanding of the world.

"Alright, everyone's almost here."

The old man's voice was hoarse, yet it carried an inexplicable air of authority.

"As is customary, we first exchange names, then discuss any unusual occurrences we've encountered recently, or any information that needs to be alerted to our colleagues."

He looked at the red-haired witch: "Freya, let's start with you."