Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

"Let me think about it..."

He raised his head and looked up at the simulated twilight sky above.

The orange-red light, like a frozen sunset, serves as a reminder of the distortion of time here.

"The Era Resets."

This is the first timeline, and also the most crucial one.

Ron recalls the fragmented memories he saw in "Paradise," the warnings left by Professor Yutel, and the inescapable future pointed to by various signs.

"Based on a comprehensive assessment of intelligence from various sources, it is estimated that the next era restart may be 40 to 60 years away."

He silently calculated in his mind:

"Based on the flow of time in the main world, this means I must become a great wizard within this timeframe."

This is not ambition, but simply a necessity for survival.

An event of this magnitude, such as the restart of an era, is far beyond what a Dark Sun-level being can handle.

Only true great wizards are qualified to seek a glimmer of hope in such a cataclysmic upheaval.

"Becoming a great wizard is no easy feat..."

His current ethereal form is only 12% complete, and his magic compression is 19.6 times.

At a normal cultivation speed, it would take at least several hundred years to reach 60% completion of the ethereal body and more than 50 times the magic power compression representing the potential of the Witch King.

"So I need to speed things up."

His gaze sharpened:

"And the key to acceleration is 'favor'."

Although the concept of "favor" was revealed to him by Mrs. Allen during his apprenticeship, he only truly understood it when he broke through to the Dark Sun level.

That is the collective unconscious of civilization giving back to the individual; it is the pure power formed by the gratitude, remembrance, and recognition of countless people.

When a wizard has a profound enough impact on a civilization, the civilization will "remember" him, "bless" him, and "nourish" him.

This nourishment is comprehensive:
It accelerates the condensation of ethereal remains, stabilizes the compression of magical energy, and even provides assistance for breakthroughs at crucial moments...

Ron was able to achieve the Dark Sun level breakthrough in such a short time largely because "Narrative Potions" had accumulated a great deal of benefits for him.

"In the main world, my academic influence has reached a fairly high level."

He mentally tallied up:

"Narrative potion-making has altered the framework of some modern potion-making systems, with potion-makers using pure formulas now found throughout the Central Lands."

“Every successful concoction, every wizard who gets promoted because of the lower cost, will subconsciously be grateful to me and remember me.”

"This influence continues to spread, and the accumulation of benefits is steadily increasing."

This is his core base, stable and reliable.

"But the grace of the Lord's world alone is not enough."

Ron shook his head:
"I need more sources of influence and to build my influence on a broader stage."

"And the chaotic world of bloodshed is my second stage."

Choosing the chaotic world of bloodshed was no accident.

First, the flow of time here is more than twice that of the main world.

Every day spent in the chaotic world is equivalent to less than half a day in the main world.

This means he can complete more layouts with less "main world time".

Secondly, the world is at a critical juncture of change.

The vampire civilization is crumbling due to its rampage, while human civilization is rising with the help of the Industrial Revolution... The clash between the old and new orders presents the perfect opportunity to establish influence.

The key is……

"In my possession, I have the illusory remains of the great sorceress Selna."

Ron remembered the precious relic that Professor Utter had entrusted to him.

Selna, the pioneering great wizard who first discovered and transformed this world.

Besides the special power it contains, her illusory remains also constitute a "legal basis".

In the rules of wizarding civilization, successors who inherit the remnants of their predecessors are entitled to inherit all of their legacy—including the right to rule colonies.

"Once I become a great wizard, I can rightfully become the governor of the colony of the Chaotic Blood World with this fragment."

A flame of ambition ignited in Ron's eyes:
"The right to rule a complete world... is not just power, but also resources, influence, and the foundation that allows me to reach higher levels."

"Since it will eventually become my territory, every effort I put in now is paving the way for the future."

He turned around and began to pace slowly in the lounge.

There are three key moments in establishing influence in a chaotic world.

"First, solve the problem of berserk behavior."

This is the most direct and effective breakthrough.

Ron has mastered the improved formula for the suppressant.

Although it is addictive, it is a lifeline for desperate vampires.

"If I could make this potion widespread among vampires, making them realize that 'leaving me will plunge them back into madness'..."

A cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth:
"Then the entire vampire civilization will be firmly under my control."

“They will be grateful to me, rely on me, and remember me.”

"And these emotions will transform into a continuous stream of blessings, accelerating my growth."

"Second, restore order."

Twilight City is just the beginning.

Ron's goal is to use this city as a base and gradually expand his influence outwards.

"Build dependence through drugs, intimidate rebels through force, and win over neutrals through alliances of interests..."

"Step by step, we will bring the surrounding vampire territories into the system."

"Ultimately, we will establish a vampire alliance that covers the entire eastern continent."

This plan sounds crazy, but it's not impossible.

The vampire civilization in the chaotic world was already on the verge of collapse, and they desperately needed a "savior" to lead them out of their predicament.

Ron is the perfect candidate for this role.

"Third, promote the progress of civilization."

Ron looked at the chimneys of the industrial area in the distance:

"The conflict between vampires and humans stems from the finite nature of resources."

"If we could find a way to prevent the interests of both sides from conflicting..."

He thought of the technology at the Abyss Observatory and the development model of the Vinard Colony.

"Blood crystal technology, rune industry, magic network... all of these can be introduced into the chaotic blood world."

"When productivity reaches a sufficiently high level, and when the pie is large enough, the contradictions in distribution will naturally be alleviated."

"At that time, I will be able to gain the recognition of both camps as a 'civilization promoter'."

These plans sound grand, but their implementation requires countless details and efforts.

But Ron was not afraid.

Because he knew perfectly well that he had no choice.

"I must become a great wizard within forty to sixty years."

He reiterated this goal:
"To achieve this, we must extract value from every minute and second and make use of every available resource."

"The academic influence in the main world is the foundation, and its growth is continuous but at a limited speed."

"The development of colonies in the chaotic world is an accelerator, with high risks and high rewards."

"Only by running two parallel lines can we accomplish the impossible in a limited time."

With these thoughts in mind, Ron remembered another concern of his.

"Eve."

He raised his left hand, the ring on his hand gleaming with a purple sheen.

Getting engaged means he has an even heavier responsibility on his shoulders.

"She's waiting for me to come back, waiting for me to keep my promise..."

Ron's expression softened:
"I promised her that I would give her a stable future."

"Therefore I cannot fail, and even less can I die."

This responsibility is not only a promise to Eve, but also a spur to myself.

"And tickets to The King of Absurdity."

Ron recalled the strange theater ticket, on which only two markings were still glowing.

One of the three opportunities to "break out of character" has already been used.

"That's my trump card, my only reliance."

"But with each use, Hector gets one step closer to his 'final curtain call'..."

He took a deep breath:

"Therefore, I must be more cautious and not take those opportunities lightly."

“Only in truly desperate situations can we ask for His help.”

My thoughts continued to wander.

"The paradise will completely collapse in more than forty years."

These are fragments of the future that Chloe saw deep within "Paradise".

The mental prison that holds countless mad wizards is gradually spiraling out of control.

"What will happen to the prisoners if the park collapses?"

Ron dared not think too deeply about it.

Those who were imprisoned were all once powerful and influential figures.

Their madness, their twisted nature, their fanaticism... if all of it were unleashed...

"The main world will descend into unprecedented chaos."

"And I... by then I must have enough strength to protect myself and the people around me."

This is yet another reason why one must become a great wizard.

Finally, he thought of Aiden.

"The 'King of Blood' in the chaotic world may awaken in more than twenty years."

This is the scene Chloe saw when she performed divination in the main world.

Based on the conversion of time flow, ten years in the main world is equivalent to more than twenty years in the chaotic blood world.

"Aiden's awakening is a problem that I cannot solve with my current power."

However, thanks to Euphemia's 'spell reversal' and the previous tests, both the King of Absurdity and the King of Illusion promised to lend a hand...

"Right now, I still have a twenty-year 'buffer period' here."

Ron's expression turned serious:
"Within twenty years, I must complete the basic layout of the chaotic world."

"Establish a stable system of rule and cultivate enough proxies."

"To ensure that the entire 'chaotic world' depends on me, so that even if Aiden awakens, I can handle the situation with ease."

All the timelines wove together into a vast web in his mind.

An era restarts, the paradise collapses, Aiden awakens, a promise to Eve, the ticket to the King of Absurdity…

Every line urged him forward, every line exerted tremendous pressure on him.

Pressure can also be a driving force.

"Strive to become a great wizard, and you must be a great wizard with the potential to become the Wizard King."

Ron reaffirmed this core objective in his mind:
"To cope with the restart of the era, to protect Eve, to have the power to defend ourselves when Paradise collapses, and to control the future colony of the Chaotic Blood World..."

"I must become stronger."

"And to become stronger, one needs grace."

"To gain favor, you need influence."

"To establish influence, we need to take over Twilight City, conquer the Chaotic Blood World, and leave an indelible mark on this stage."

All the logical links are interconnected, forming a clear action plan.

That's why he went to such lengths to deal with this mess;

Why should I personally confront that dangerous marquis?
Why choose to delve deeper into the chaotic world of bloodshed when time is so tight?

Because every step is paving the way for a more distant future;

Every adventure is an accumulation of capital for the ultimate goal.

Ron slowly clenched his fist.

The ring glittered on his finger, a reminder of the responsibilities he bore.

"Then let's get started."

He said softly:

"It all started with conquering Twilight City, with defeating that marquis, with establishing the first base that truly belonged to me..."

"Step by step, toward that throne."

Sunlight streamed down from the simulated dome above, casting his shadow long and thin.

That shadow was like a sharp sword, pointing towards the distant future.

………………

In the underground of Twilight City, in Ivan's private study.

The room was protected by layers of runes, and the anti-spy arrays engraved on the walls were enough to block most sensory detection.

Ivan sat at his desk, with a newly deciphered secret letter in front of him.

The letter was written in the Heart Clan’s unique “blood-written secret code,” and each letter required a special developing agent to be seen.

He read the letter carefully, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

"Euphemismia's condition has been confirmed to have collapsed, and the out-of-control process is irreversible."

"The 'recovery team' has set off and is expected to arrive in a week. Please cooperate in taking over the affairs of Twilight City at that time."

"Lord Alex will provide military support and may apply pressure to Ron Ralph if necessary, but remember not to kill him."

Ivan put down the letter and rubbed his temples.

A week.

It seems fast, but in reality, given the current turbulent situation, every day that is delayed is a turning point.

Especially that Ron Ralph.

Ivan stood up, walked to the bookshelf, and took out a summary of intelligence from a hidden compartment.

Those were all the records he had collected during this time regarding Ron Ralph's activities in Twilight City:
On the third day after arriving in Twilight City, Ron began to contact the chieftains of various small clans, ostensibly to "learn about the local situation."

On the fifth day, he publicly demonstrated a "treatment," curing a baron on the verge of madness on the spot.

On the seventh day, he announced that he would "assist Euphemia in advancing her research" and began recruiting test subjects.
Each record appears normal and conforms to the behavioral patterns expected of an "outsider expert".

But when Ivan pieced these records together, he felt a deep unease.

"This person moves with terrifying speed."

He muttered to himself:
"From initial contact to eventual subjugation, from demonstration to establishing prestige."

"Every step was perfectly timed, just like..."

Ivan's pupils suddenly contracted:
"It's as if he already knew what to do."

Once the thought pops into your head, it can no longer be suppressed.

Ron Ralph's behavior was less like "exploring" and more like "executing" a pre-planned scheme.

His purpose in coming to Twilight City may not have been as simple as "assisting in research" from the very beginning.

"no."

Ivan whirled around and took another communication device from the drawer:
“I must let the clan know that the situation here may be more critical than they think.”

He began writing secret letters rapidly.

Just as the ink fell onto the paper, there was a sudden knock on the study door.

"Dong dong dong."

Three taps, with a slow and steady rhythm.

Ivan froze.

At this time, no one should be looking for him.

The study was in an extremely secluded location; apart from Serafina and Alyosha, practically no one knew about it.

"Who?"

He lowered his voice.

There was no answer from outside the door.

Only the knocking sound rang out again.

Ivan felt a cold sweat break out on his back.

He slowly stood up, his right hand already resting on the dagger at his waist.

It was a ceremonial short blade forged from silver, with exorcism runes engraved on its blade, specifically designed to deal with chaotic corruption or mental attacks.

"Who? I said, who?"

The knocking stopped.

But then, something even stranger happened...

The door handle started turning on its own.

"squeak"

The door slowly opened, revealing the empty corridor outside.

nobody.

Ivan stared intently at the doorway, focusing all his senses to the limit.

But he found nothing—no signs of life, no magical fluctuations, not even the sound of footsteps.

It's as if those knocking sounds were just his hallucination.

"Damn."

He was about to close the door when his peripheral vision caught sight of the table.

The secret letter, only half-written, lay there quietly.

The contents of the letter have changed.

He originally wrote "The situation is complex, and advance planning is recommended," but now it has become:

"Euphemism is about to break through. Ron Ralph has the perfect formula. Please send reinforcements immediately."

Every word is his handwriting, and every punctuation mark conforms to his writing habits.

But he never wrote any of this!
Ivan felt a chill run down his spine.

He turned around abruptly, intending to destroy the letter.

But when his hand touched the letter...

"Don't worry."

A voice rang in his ear:
"Since you've already written it, why not just send it out?"

Ivan turned his head stiffly.

Ron Ralph was standing right behind him, less than half a meter away.

A polite smile graced his young face, but his deep eyes held no warmth.

"When...when?"

"From the moment you took out the communication device."

Ron chuckled and said:
"To be precise, from the moment you had the idea of ​​'connecting clans'."

He raised his hand, and Ivan found himself completely unable to move.

It was as if someone had pressed the pause button in his consciousness, and all instructions were intercepted at the nerve endings.

“This is my ethereal ability—[Concealment], which is also recorded in your investigation report, right?”

Ron explained, his tone as if discussing the weather:
"It can not only obscure perception, but also the 'action' itself."

"You are fully conscious right now, and you can see, hear, and feel everything."

"It's just that your body has temporarily 'forgot' how to move."

Ivan's pupils contracted sharply, his eyes filled with terror.

This ability is a nightmare for intelligence agents.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you."

Ron picked up the "rewritten" secret letter:
"On the contrary, I want to thank you."

"Thank you for your cooperation in passing on a very useful piece of false information."

He folded the letter and put it in an envelope:
"Euphemism is about to break through—this will cause panic among the Heart Clan."

“I have the perfect formula—that will make them feel they must act immediately.”

"And the phrase 'Please send reinforcements immediately'..."

Ron's smile became meaningful:
"This will cause them to adjust their plans in a panic, bringing the original 'one week later' forward to..."

"About three days?"

He looked at Ivan as if he were looking at a disassembled machine:
"I have full knowledge of your intelligence network."

"I will transfer the seven informants on the second basement level tonight."

"On the surface, it appears to be a normal task allocation, but in reality..."

Ron walked to the door:
"I've plucked your tentacles one by one."

"By the time you regain your mobility, this letter will have already been sent out through your secret channels."

"The Heart Clan will receive and believe this, and will adjust their plans accordingly."

And you

He glanced back at Ivan:
"I will continue to be your 'intelligence chief' and continue to think that you still have something in control."

"Until the day I need you to be completely 'exposed'."

The door is closed.

Ivan remained in a stiff posture, standing in the center of the study.

He could feel control of his body slowly returning, first to his fingers, then his wrists, and then his arms.
The whole process lasted a full five minutes.

When he was finally able to move freely, the secret letter on the table had disappeared.

Instead, there was a piece of parchment with neat handwriting that read:
Your list of seven informants:
Captain Jeremy of the Underground Second Floor Guard

The maid Krine around the laboratory
"

There were seven names in total, each one a pawn carefully placed by Ivan.

Now, the identities of all these chess pieces have been exposed.

Ivan slumped into his chair, his back soaked in cold sweat.

He finally realized that he had been under the other party's control from the very beginning.

Those schemes they thought were well-hidden, those disguises they thought were flawless.
In Ron Ralph's eyes, it might just be a ridiculous performance.

Finance building, Serafina's office.

This place is much more luxurious than Ivan's study.

A deep red velvet carpet, a crystal chandelier, and ledgers covering an entire wall—each one bound in fine leather with a gold-stamped cover.

Serafina is taking stock of the latest batch of "transferred" assets.

This was her habit; every time she completed a transfer, she would personally confirm whether the funds had safely arrived at the secret account.

"The purchase fee of 1,200 magic stones for the eastern mine has been received."

"The maintenance fee for the West District project, 800 Magic Stones, has been received."

Emergency Reserve Fund

Her fingers traced across the ledger, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

Ten years, a full ten years.

Little by little, she used various "reasonable" pretexts to devour Euphemia's accumulated wealth.

And that foolish woman still doesn't know how much she's been robbed of.

"Dong dong."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Serafina didn't even look up.

The door opened, and a vampire dressed in a butler's uniform walked in, carrying a document in his hand:
"Lady Serafina, this is the financial audit authorization letter that Lord Ralph requests you to sign."

The countess froze. "What audit?"

"Lord Ralph said that in order to ensure the financial health of Twilight City, he suggested a comprehensive review of all accounts from the past decade."

The deacon said respectfully:
"This is the authorization letter. All you need to do is sign it, and the audit team will begin its work."

Serafina's face turned ashen instantly.

audit?
Now?
This is practically holding a knife to her throat!
"I reject."

She said coldly:
"Finance is within my responsibilities, and outsiders have no right to interfere."

"Lord Kralf said..."

The butler's expression turned troubled:
"Lady Euphemia has authorized him to handle all city affairs."

"So this is not a 'request,' but a 'command.'"

The office fell into a deathly silence.

Serafina stared intently at the authorization letter, her fingers turning white from the pressure.

Of course she couldn't sign it.

Once the audit begins, the funds she misappropriated will be immediately exposed.

At that point, forget about continuing to lie low; even leaving Twilight City alive will be a problem.

"Tell Lord Ralph"

She took a deep breath, trying to make her voice sound calm:
"I need three days to sort out the accounts before I can cooperate with the audit."

"Three days, is that alright?"

The deacon hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded:
"I'll pass it on."

After the deacon left, Serafina immediately stood up.

Of course, the other side wasn't stupid; they wouldn't actually give her three days.

She had to destroy all the evidence within half a day.

Those transfer records, fake invoices, and contact information for secret accounts
Everything that can prove her guilt must be completely erased.

She walked to the safe and entered the password.

"Click."

The heavy metal door opened, revealing rows of neatly arranged folders inside.

Each folder represents a embezzlement, and each page records evidence of her crimes.

Serafina began quickly flipping through the documents, selecting the most critical and dangerous ones.

However, when she turned to the third folder, she suddenly stopped.

wrong.

These documents
She picked up one of the pages with trembling hands and examined it carefully.

This is an "Eastern Mine Procurement Contract," which looks exactly like the one she remembers.

However, at the very bottom of the contract, where only her signature should have been, was a sign.
Now there's an extra line of small print:
"A copy has been synchronized to the Audit Committee, number: FC-2847"

Serafina felt dizzy.

She frantically flipped through the other documents:

Each copy had that same line of small print added on it.

Each secret account was marked "backed up".

Even the coded letters she used to contact the Heart Clan were copied and neatly tucked into a folder.

"This is impossible."

She took a step back, utterly incredulous.
"I clearly, I clearly set up so many safeguards."

"Protection?"

A voice suddenly rang in her ear:
"You mean that 'cognitive barrier'?"

Serafina turned around abruptly.

Ron stood next to the safe, holding a folder in his hand.

"It's a pity."

He opened the folder, revealing the meticulously organized evidence inside:
"The barrier you set up is indeed very effective."

"It successfully makes you think that you are 'destroying' evidence."

"actually"

Ron's smile turned cold:
“You’re just giving me ‘copying’ evidence.”

“Every time you ‘delete’ a file, that file will be automatically copied to me.”

“Every time you ‘transfer’ a sum of money, the transaction record is backed up synchronously.”

"You think you're cleaning up the mess."

He closed the folder:
"Actually, you're just helping me complete my chain of evidence."

Serafina collapsed to the ground, her whole body trembling.

"Why."

Her voice was hoarse:
"Why didn't you just kill me?"

"Kill you?"

Ron shook his head:
"That would be such a waste."

“You’re still useful—when the Heart Clan comes to take over Dusk City, your ‘evidence’ will give me an excuse to deal with them.”

He walked to the door:
“Continue being your CFO, Serafina.”

"Continue to believe that you can still salvage something."

"Until the day I need you to 'confess'."

The door is closed.

In the office, only Seraphina remained, kneeling in front of the safe, looking at the "backed-up" documents, weeping in despair.

At dusk, on a square at the very edge of the northern part of the city.

This is the closest point in the entire city to the main road leading to the "Ya" clan's territory, making it convenient to escape at any time in case of trouble.

At this moment, the chieftains of more than a dozen small clans were gathered in the square.

They were summoned by Alyosha, ostensibly to "discuss the future development direction of Twilight City".

Actually.
"Gentlemen, the time has come."

Alyosha stood in front of the fountain, looking around at everyone present:
"Euphemism's loss of control is an open secret."

"She's too scared to even leave the lab now, she locks herself in that secret room all day, like a monster."

His voice was inflammatory:
"And Ron Ralph, that foreign wizard, is gradually taking over power in Twilight City."

"He used the guise of 'assisting in research' to actually win people over."

"Those vampires he 'healed' now regard him as their savior!"

Alyosha suddenly raised his voice:
"But I have to ask—when did we vampires ever need human wizards to save us?!"

The audience fell silent.

Some clan leaders lowered their heads, some exchanged glances, and others showed hesitant expressions.

Alyosha knew very well that these fence-sitters were still observing.

They are waiting for a "signal," a "guarantee" that will allow them to confidently choose sides.

"The adults of the Heart Clan have made their promise."

Alyosha lowered his voice, but every word was clearly heard by everyone present:
"As long as we cooperate, they will provide truly effective treatment options."

"It's not a compromise like Euphemia's that weakens your power, nor is it a potion like Ron Ralph's that requires 'continuous dependence'."

"It's a complete, holistic, and permanent cure!"

These words made everyone's eyes light up.

"Really?"

One of the clan leaders couldn't help but speak up:
"The Heart Clan. Can they really do it?"

"They are the oldest of the thirteen clans of vampires."

Alyosha said with certainty:
"The bloodline secrets they possess far exceed our imagination."

"The problem that Euphemia has been researching for thirty years without success is solved by the Heart Clan."

He snapped his fingers:
"It might only take three months."

The atmosphere in the square began to subtly change.

Alyosha knew the time was right.

Therefore, everyone.

He looked around at everyone again:
"When 'that day' comes, I hope..."

"boom--!"

A loud bang interrupted him.

Suddenly, a blinding light burst forth from the edge of the square.

The light was as intense as the sun, illuminating the entire square as if it were daytime.

Everyone instinctively closed their eyes and raised their hands to shield their eyes.

When the light faded, they saw:
Ron Ralph was standing right across from the fountain.

Behind him were Miller, Silas, and several blood-stained brides in black wedding dresses.

At their feet knelt a trembling vampire viscount.

The viscount's eyes were bloodshot, his fangs were bared, and he exuded a distinct aura of madness.

"Sorry for disturbing you."

Ron said politely:
"However, I imagine that you are all interested in the 'treatment options for the Heart Clan'."

"Perhaps they're also interested in my proposal?"

He crouched down and placed his hand on the head of the deranged viscount.

A faint starlight emanated from his palm, flowing into the viscount's body like a small stream.

Everyone present held their breath.

three seconds.

Five seconds.

ten seconds.

The mad viscount's struggles began to subside.

His bloodshot eyes gradually returned to normal, his exposed fangs retracted into his mouth, and the violent aura emanating from his body receded like a tide.

Finally, he opened his eyes.

Those eyes were clear and rational, showing no sign of the frenzy that had gripped them just a minute ago.

"I've recovered."

The viscount stared at his hands in disbelief:
"The power is still there, the bloodline is still there, but the urge to tear everything apart has vanished."

Exclamations erupted in the square.

All the clan leaders stared wide-eyed at the scene in disbelief.

Instantly cures berserk state!
And it has no side effects!
Its power was fully preserved, its bloodline was undamaged, and even the healing time was incredibly short!
This...this is the "treatment" they've been dreaming of!
Ron stood up and glanced at everyone present:
"My medication does indeed need to be taken continuously."

"Once a month, one small bottle each time."

He took out a delicate crystal bottle from his pocket, which contained a pale blue liquid:
“I will not promise you ‘perfection’ or ‘permanence’.”

"I can only guarantee..."

Ron's voice became even stronger:
"As long as you take it, you can maintain your sanity."

"As long as you follow, you will gain power."

"As for the Heart Clan's 'perfect solution'."

He glanced at Alyosha, a mocking smile playing on his lips:
"I'm curious, do they mean the 'three months' they promised will make you stronger after three months?"

"Or will you be turned into their puppets in three months?"

These words were like a sharp knife, precisely piercing Alyosha's lie.

The clan leaders began to whisper among themselves.

They're not stupid; of course they know there's no such thing as a free lunch.

If the Heart Clan truly had such a good solution, why didn't they present it sooner?
Why was this "promise" only made when Euphemia was out of control and Twilight City was about to change hands?
The answer is obvious.

They need the support of these small clans, and they need them to take sides in critical moments.

Whether the promise can be kept is "a matter for the future."

"Lord Alyosha."

A clan chief hesitated before speaking:
"Is the Heart Clan's treatment plan really as good as you say?"

He was met with silence. Alyosha lowered his head, knowing that at this point, no amount of eloquence would be of any use.

"Speaking of which, Lord Ralph's potion..."

Another patriarch pointed to the viscount who had just been healed:
"We've all seen the results; it's real."

"And the Heart Clan's approach..."

His tone became hesitant:
"We've never even met."

The atmosphere is rapidly changing.

On one hand, there's the medicine that can be delivered "right now," and on the other hand, there's the promise that "it's unclear when it will be fulfilled," coupled with Alyosha's silence.

The choice is obvious.

"I am willing to follow Lord Ralph."

The first clan leader knelt down.

"Me too."

"And I."

Like dominoes, one clan chief after another knelt down.

In the end, only Alyosha remained standing in the square.

His face was ashen, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms.

"You...you bunch of idiots!"

He roared:
"You'll regret this!"

"Maybe."

Ron said calmly:
"But at least they still have a choice now."

And you

The oppressive aura of the Dark Sun level suddenly erupted.

Like an invisible giant wave, it enveloped the entire square.

The oppressive feeling was so terrifying that the ground began to tremble slightly, and the fountain's water flow froze in mid-air.

Alyosha felt difficulty breathing, and his blood was congealing in his veins.

This is the true power of the Dark Sun class.

Faced with an absolute difference in social standing, any words are inadequate.

"From this moment forward, you are relieved of all your duties in Twilight City."

Ron's voice was icy:
"Considering you haven't actually made a move yet, I'll give you a chance..."

"Becoming my test subject might give you a chance to survive."

Alyosha gave a dejected laugh, his whole body trembling.

He didn't dare resist.

Faced with such an absolute power disparity, any resistance would only lead to self-destruction.

Will you give me a chance to refuse?

Of course not, the only response he received was an even stronger magical pressure, which pressed him down until he was kneeling on the ground.

"Lord Ralph, you've got some impressive skills... I'm impressed!"

He managed to squeeze out a few words, only to be stomped hard onto the floor by Ivy next to him.

This once spirited "idealist" now looks as pathetic as a stray dog.

Only after Alyosha was lifted up by Ivy and disappeared into the twilight did Ron withdraw his oppressive aura.

The clan leaders in the square were panting heavily, their faces filled with relief at surviving the ordeal.

"Everyone."

Ron looked around at everyone:
"Twilight City is about to undergo a transformation."

"The old order will collapse, and new rules will be established."

"And you."

His voice became more approachable:
"It will be part of this new order."

"As long as you are loyal, I promise..."

"Power, status, and the future—all will be there."

The clan leaders all kowtowed:
"I am willing to serve Lord Ralph like a dog or a horse!"

Ron nodded in satisfaction.

Step two, done.

Now, all that's left is to wait for the last "fish" to take the bait.

After dealing with the three traitors, Ron went alone to the divination chamber.

The news that Alyosha had been captured would soon reach the Heart Clan.

The "false intelligence" sent by Ivan has also been delivered through secret channels.

In addition, there's the "financial crisis" on Serafina's side.
All the pressure will force the Heart Clan to make one choice—to act ahead of time.

With that in mind, Ron took out his divination tools.

A worn deck of divination cards, a polished crystal ball, and a few sticks of True Vision incense emitting a faint fragrance.

He lit the True Vision Incense, and the smoke rose slowly, swirling and twisting in the air.

"Revealing the truth, guiding the way"

Ron's voice was deep:
"When will the danger strike?"

The tarot cards flew up automatically and spun rapidly in the air.

Their trajectories follow mystical laws, resembling the movement of stars or the cycle of fate.

A few seconds later, a card broke free of the vortex and slowly landed in front of Ron.

Death (Upright)

Ron stared at the card.

In the image, a knight wearing a black cloak rides a pale skeletal warhorse, holding a black banner in his hand.

The flag is embroidered with a blooming white rose.

At the knight's feet lay kings, bishops, women, children...

Regardless of status or wealth, everyone is equal in the face of death.

Behind the knight, the sun is rising.

The rising sun represents "new life" and "transformation," signifying that "the old will inevitably perish and a new order is about to arrive."

In the depths of Ron's pupils, starlight began to flow.

【Time Sequence Prophecy (Mastery)】Activate to full power, in conjunction with the guidance of divination cards.

Within his realm of consciousness, the scene gradually changed.

The knight's cloak began to "burn," but the flames were as red as congealed blood being ignited.

Within the flames, a figure vaguely emerged—tall and strong, its body wreathed in undying karmic fire.

It was Alex Valentine.

"Death card upright"

Ron begins to interpret:
"Traditionally, this card represents 'ending' and 'new beginning'."

"But in my question, it points to..."

His gaze fell on the flag in the knight's hand.

That white rose is changing in the picture right now:
The petals gradually turned blood-red, sharp thorns grew from the stamens, and the whole rose trembled as if it were alive.

"Blood Rose"

Ron uses his occult knowledge to connect the imagery with existing information:
"It is exactly the same as the emblem of the Heart Clan."

His attention turned to the "dead" at the feet of the knight.

The king represents power;
A bishop represents faith;
Women represent warmth;
Children represent the future.
But in Ron's interpretation, these "dead" took on a new meaning:
The king is Euphemia—her rule is about to be "changed."
The bishop, Ivan—his intelligence network was on the verge of collapse;
The woman is Seraphina—her financial system is about to be exposed;
The children are from those small clans—their future is about to be rewritten.
"All old orders will end when 'death' arrives."

Ron lowered his voice:
"But the problem is, when will death arrive?"

His gaze fell on the rising sun.

The sun was low in the sky, just peeking over the horizon.

According to the time indications of the divination cards
"The darkest hour before sunrise."

Ron calculated:
"It will probably be between 3 and 5 a.m. tomorrow."

The picture changes again.

The knight began to move, his pale skeletal warhorse treading through the void, advancing step by step.

Where it passed, the ground began to crack and collapse, revealing a bottomless darkness below.

Something was wriggling in the darkness.

Ron focused his attention, trying to make out the wriggling "beings".

Slowly, the outline appeared—it was the underground waterway of Twilight City!
In the waterway, a blood-red figure was moving rapidly, darting through the intricate pipes like a ghost.

He would infiltrate through the underground sewers.

Ron noted this detail:
"Avoid all overt surveillance and defenses."

"This way, we can maintain secrecy and catch people off guard when we strike."

He continued to observe.

The blood-red figure finally stopped at one spot.

That was directly below the laboratory, just one floor away from Euphemia's secret chamber.

"The goal is clear."

Ron sneered:
"His purpose in coming was to 'confirm' Euphemia's condition."

"On the surface it is 'support,' but in reality it is 'supervision.'"

"The Heart Clan needs to determine whether Twilight City is truly out of control, and whether Euphemia is truly beyond saving."

"Only after confirming these two points will they truly take over."

The picture freezes.

The knight stopped in front of a tightly closed door.

The door was covered with protective runes, each one glowing faintly, clearly protected by a powerful defensive array.

But the knight simply extended his bony finger and gently touched the door—and it shattered.

"Marquis-level 'destruction'"

Ron frowned:
"The defenses set up by Euphemia were completely ineffective against him."

"but."

A triumphant smile crept across his lips.
"If you can break down a door, can't I guide you to destroy the 'door' I want you to destroy?"

The image begins to blur, and the divination cards' prediction comes to an end.

Ron opened his eyes, and the starlight deep in his pupils slowly dimmed.

He has seen enough information:
Time – 3:00 AM to 5:00 AM tomorrow;
Location—underground sewers, beneath the laboratory;
Target—Euphemism's secret chamber;
Method – Concentrate maximum power to destroy directly through the defenses.
Every detail is clearly visible.

"very good."

Ron put the tarot cards away:
"Since you're coming, I'll be waiting for you."

He turned and walked deeper into the laboratory.

Now, it's time to set up the "welcoming" trap.

The core of this trap is the very thing that was predicted in the divination—the "door".

A door that only Alex can see, and only he will "destroy".

A door meticulously designed specifically for "counter-attack".

"Death has arrived?"

Ron's voice echoed in the darkness:
"Then let's see who the real 'Grim Reaper' is." (End of Chapter)