Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Hearthstone, the Noble Quarter.

As night fell, the streets were devoid of their usual bustling activity.

Most of the pubs, theaters, and luxury shops that are usually brightly lit are now closed.

Behind the shop window, the owner was taking inventory of the goods, preparing to move them to a safer location.

A sense of tension filled the air, as if a storm was about to break.

"Have you heard? The north has suffered another defeat..."

"Not only the north, but the southern coalition forces are also wiped out. More than 20,000 men were wiped out in just one hour..."

"The temple is truly finished this time; those noble lords are all preparing to flee..."

In the shadows of the street corner, several ragged civilians were talking in hushed tones.

Their eyes held both fear and excitement.

That was the complex emotion of someone who had been oppressed for too long, finally seeing the possibility of their oppressor's downfall.

"I heard from my cousin that things are really good at the mining area..."

A young man lowered his voice:

"Everyone can have enough to eat, there are free schools, and children can all learn to read..."

"Stop dreaming."

An elderly commoner nearby sighed:

"Even if the temple falls, the new master may not be any better."

"The powerful and wealthy will always be the powerful and wealthy, and people like us..."

"Not necessarily."

The young man stubbornly shook his head:

“My cousin spent five years in the mining area, and he said it was really different there.”

"That Governor Karen, it's said, never treats people like tools..."

"Shh!"

The older civilian quickly covered his mouth:
"Keep your voice down! If the people from the temple hear us saying that, we'll all be turned into 'iron slaves'!"

What he didn't know was that the temple was too busy to care about these "treasonous" remarks.

The atmosphere in the temple's council hall was as oppressive as that of a tomb.

A dozen or so high priests and noble representatives sat around a long table, their faces filled with anxiety and fear.

In the center of the table lay a series of battle reports from various places—all bad news.

"The strategic material reserves in the Chengdong mining area have been depleted."

The priest in charge of logistics had a hoarse voice:
"The two battles supporting the front lines almost exhausted all the supplies we had accumulated."

"What about energy?"

Another priest asked.

"Worse."

The logistics priest smiled wryly:

“Mining areas in various places have all stopped production, either because they were affected by the war, or because the nobles have blocked them themselves and are unwilling to send resources to Hearth City anymore.”

"The city's energy supply can only last for a maximum of twenty days."

"Twenty days from now, the rune streetlights will go out, the factories will shut down, and even the magical heating in the noble district will be cut off..."

These words caused everyone present to change their expressions.

An energy shortage would mean the entire city would be paralyzed.

Once the city is paralyzed, the collapse of social order will be inevitable.

"Where's the food?"

"The food supply can last for three months."

The logistics priests were not in a good mood:
"The premise is... that it will only be supplied to the noble district and the upper-class citizens' district."

“Those lowlifes in the lower city…”

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone present understood what he meant—the civilians in the lower city would be abandoned.

"This……"

A young nobleman hesitated:
"The lower city has hundreds of thousands of people; if the food supply is cut off..."

"Then let them go hungry!"

The priest representative sitting in the main seat coldly interrupted him:
"We can't even take care of ourselves right now, how can we have the energy to care about those lowly people?"

"Their lives were worthless to begin with."

These words starkly reveal the cruel nature of this class society.

When resources are scarce, those at the bottom are always the first to be sacrificed.

"But……"

The young nobleman wanted to say something, but was pulled back by an elder beside him.

"Shut up."

The older nobleman warned in a low voice, "Now is not the time to show kindness."

"You must remember, the most important thing is that we ourselves survive."

The young nobleman opened his mouth, but ultimately remained silent.

"The next issue to be discussed is more important."

The high priest representative stood up, his gaze sweeping over everyone present:

"Gentlemen, we must face a reality."

"We can no longer defeat the mining area on our own."

These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over everyone's heads.

But no one objected.

Because the reality is just that cruel.

The two crushing defeats have fully demonstrated the disparity in strength between the two sides.

"Therefore, we need outside help."

The high priest representative continued:
“I have already sent people to contact several neighboring great wizard colonies—the ‘Master of Mechanics,’ the ‘Lord of Molten Fire,’ and the ‘Forge Master.’”

"Hopefully we can persuade them to send troops to jointly combat this threat from the mining area."

"Will they agree?"

Some people questioned.

"Will do."

The high priest's representative's tone carried a hint of malice:

"Because the level of technology demonstrated by the mining area is enough to threaten their interests."

"No great wizard would want to see such a powerful force rise up right under his nose."

"As long as we can convince them and make them realize this..."

"They will become our blades, to kill that damned Karen!"

After the meeting, the nobles left the hall in twos and threes.

But their destination was not their respective mansions, but... secret warehouses hidden throughout the city.

These warehouses were filled with their wealth accumulated over the years—gold coins, gems, rare materials, and gold-burning items…

"Quick! Load everything onto the vehicle!"

A nobleman is directing his servants in his own storeroom.

"Sir, what are we going to do..."

"escape!"

The nobles made no attempt to hide it:

"You think I really believe those damn foreign aid guys?"

"Heartheart City is already a wrecked ship; if we don't run now, it'll be too late!"

Similar scenes were playing out in every corner of the aristocratic district.

These rulers, who were usually high and mighty, were now frantically carrying treasures into the ship's hold like rats, preparing to abandon ship and escape at any moment.

Their "loyalty" is as fragile as paper in the face of a real crisis.

Unlike the chaos in the noble district, the lower city was surprisingly "peaceful".

The miners gathered in the square, talking in hushed tones.

The workers stopped working and stood in front of the dilapidated houses, gazing into the distance.

Even the lowest-ranking slaves began to show a strange look in their eyes.

"They said that in the mining area... everyone is equal."

"They said they didn't need slave collars over there."

"They said that the children over there can all go to school..."

These words, like sparks, quietly spread among the people.

Hope, suppressed for too long, is sprouting in the darkness.

The temple's rulers were completely unaware of this.

Or rather—they know, but they don't care.

Because in their eyes, the thoughts of these "lowly people" are completely unimportant.

But the wheels of history are often turned by these “unimportant” people.

The northern fortress, a warehouse of spoils.

Ron walked through the warehouse filled with captured weapons, his eyes scanning over the various kinds of equipment.

The "All-Gold Sword" – its surface is covered with a dark red metallic film, and it is said to have been forged using a special gold-burning technique.

"Flame Rune Gun" - The barrel is covered with primitive and crude runes, and it can fire fireballs.

"Heavy armor" - made of multiple layers of metal plates, bulky but with good defensive capabilities.

There were also various types of ammunition, medicines, and scattered flammable gold items...

"The technological level of these things is roughly equivalent to the standard of some peripheral colonies."

Ron picked up a single-gold sword and examined it closely:
"The principle behind the Gold Burning Technique is quite interesting... It alters the molecular structure of metals through high temperatures, giving them an enchantment-like effect."

"Unfortunately, its stability is too poor."

With a gentle force, fine cracks appeared on the metal film on the surface of the sword.

"This technology cannot mass-produce high-quality weapons."

"Therefore, the number of 'single gold warriors' and 'full gold warriors' in the temple has never been able to increase."

Nearby, Ella, who had come all the way from the Vinard colony, was recording data.

After learning of Ron's overwhelming success, Vinard quickly dispatched Ella.

He was smart; he knew that asking for a share would annoy the other party.

He simply sent his only two Dark Sun-level wizards to help, and also reminded him about the post-battle distribution.

“Associate Professor Ralph, I have an idea.”

Ella pushed up her glasses:
"If we could crack the core principles of the Gold Burning Technique, and then improve it using runic arts..."

"Perhaps we can develop a more stable and powerful metal modification technology."

“That’s what I think too, Ms. Ella.”

Ron looked at the former headmaster of studies from his time teaching in the colony:

"We can jointly develop this project with your colony."

After discussing for a while, Ron bid farewell to Ella and continued walking through the warehouse.

His gaze finally settled on a particular item:
It was a metal sphere about the size of a fist.

Its surface is covered with intricate patterns, faintly radiating a magical energy fluctuation.

"This is……"

Ron reached out and picked up the metal ball, then infused it with his mental energy.

The next moment, his pupils contracted slightly.

"Monitoring device?"

Through his mental probing, he "saw" the internal structure of the metal sphere.

This is an extremely sophisticated creation, with a specially treated crystal at its core.

It can record surrounding images and sounds, and then transmit them to distant places through some kind of resonance network.

"Therefore, the High Priest uses this kind of thing to monitor the entire Stoker Star."

He closed his eyes, and his mental energy, like fine tentacles, probed into the metal sphere, following the patterns and tracing the flow of energy.

In his mental vision, he "saw" a huge net.

It is an information network composed of countless similar monitoring nodes.

They resonate with each other and connect with one another, bringing together all the details of what happens on the stoker planet to a central hub.

Each node is like a knot in a spider web, while the spider at the center...

"High Priest."

So that's how it is. The being who calls himself "God" never relied on any "divine pronouncements" or "precognitions," but simply on this global surveillance network.

It can detect any threat immediately, accurately allocate resources to deal with crises, and nip any resistance in the bud...

What they rely on is nothing more than the absolute advantage brought about by information asymmetry.

But now, this secret has been exposed.

"Green."

Ron opened his eyes:

"Immediately assemble an engineering team to manufacture a batch of 'detectors' using this monitoring sphere as a template."

"The kind that can locate similar types of magical fluctuations."

Green immediately understood his intention:
"You mean... to gouge out all of the high priest's eyes?"

Ron handed the metal ball to Green:

"I'm giving you three days. I want all the monitoring nodes within the entire mining area's control zone to become disabled."

"understand!"

Green carefully took the metal ball, turned around, and strode away.

Three days later, in a dark chamber beneath the temple.

The high priest huddled in a dark corner, the wounds that had once covered his body now scabbed over.

However, the newly formed organization was still fragile and reeked of corruption.

Its consciousness was immersed in that vast surveillance network, sensing the dynamics across the planet Stoker.

This is its only solace—even if its avatar is destroyed, even if it hides in this dark cave, at least it can still "see" the outside world.

Knowledge is power, and intelligence is life.

As long as it can be continuously monitored, it can find opportunities, find weaknesses, find...

"Om-"

One of the monitoring nodes suddenly lost connection.

The high priest's consciousness jolted violently.

This situation is not uncommon; occasionally, nodes may fail due to natural damage or accidental destruction.

But then... the second, the third, the tenth, the twentieth...

The monitoring nodes were being removed one by one by an invisible giant hand, disappearing from the network at an alarming speed!

"No!"

The high priest let out a terrified roar.

It frantically mobilized the remaining nodes, trying to figure out exactly what had happened.

But the saboteurs used a special positioning device that could accurately locate each hidden surveillance sphere and then destroy it in the most efficient way.

In just three days, all of the more than two hundred monitoring nodes that the high priest had set up around the mining area went out of service.

That area became a pitch-black blank space in its "field of vision".

It's like a person suddenly losing an eye, plunging a part of the world into permanent darkness.

"Damn it...damn it...damn it!"

The high priest pounded the walls frantically in the dark chamber, rotting flesh and blood splattering with each impact, its desperate and furious roars echoing through the cave.

At the same time, another blow followed.

Those were three replies from neighboring colonies—or rather, three cold, scathing rejection letters.

The first letter came from the colony of the "Master of Machinery".

The letter was read aloud using the simplest synthesized voice:
Your request has been received.

Based on our assessment, we believe that intervening in the internal conflict of Stoker's Star is not in our current strategic interests. This is our response.

The second letter came from "Melting Lord".

This letter was more polite, at least it had a high-sounding explanation:

"Your Excellency High Priest, we deeply sympathize with your plight."

However, given the current tightening of the Alliance's policy on interfering in other worlds, and the internal restructuring pressures our colonies are currently facing,

We fear we will be unable to provide military assistance in the short term; your understanding is appreciated.

The translation is: We don't want to get involved in this mess.

The third letter came from "The Forger".

The letter didn't even bother with an excuse, containing only a few words:
"We are keeping a close eye on the situation on Stoker Star, but we have no time to attend to other matters at the moment."

Three letters, three rejections.

The high priest collapsed to the ground, his countless eyes losing their luster, leaving only empty, blank stares.

It doesn't understand.

Given that the technological level and military strength demonstrated by the mining area are enough to threaten the balance of the entire star field, why are those great wizards so indifferent?
Aren't they worried that the rise of such a powerful force would erode their interests?

What it didn't know was that while the great wizards were indeed worried, they were even more concerned about the unknown entity behind the mining area.

A high-risk target capable of easily destroying a "Grand Wizard" level avatar is definitely not something these "colony defenders" can afford to provoke.

Moreover, all operations in the mining area so far have been confined to the interior of the Stoker Star.

There were no signs of external expansion, nor any actions that infringed upon the interests of other colonies.

Under such circumstances, rashly sending troops to attack the mining area could backfire.

It would be better to wait and see, and make a decision once the situation becomes clearer.

As for the high priest's life or death, he's dead, so be it.

In the dark chamber, the high priest was plunged into unprecedented despair. External support was cut off, surveillance was malfunctioning, his avatar was destroyed, and his true self was severely injured...

It's like a trapped beast driven to the brink, with fewer and fewer options left.

"No... I have one last way..."

The high priest struggled to his feet and dragged his broken body into the depths of the dark chamber.

There, hundreds of crystal containers were suspended in close proximity.

Each container contains the core consciousness of a "priest".

These priests were its "retinue" cultivated over many years.

Scattered throughout the planet of the Stoker, they are responsible for carrying out its will and maintaining its rule.

Now, it's time to take them back.

"Come on...come on, all of you..."

The high priest stretched out his twisted limbs and pressed them onto the first crystal container.

"boom!"

The crystal shattered, and the consciousness sealed within it surged out like a flock of startled birds.

One, two, ten, fifty... The once loyal priests from all over the planet Sifu suddenly collapsed to the ground.

Their eyes lost all their luster, and their bodies went limp like puppets without a talisman.

Some died outright, while others fell into a vegetative state and never woke up again...

The high priest didn't care; he now had only one thought—revenge.

"Boom!" The rock strata were pierced, and soil and gravel fell like rain.

A colossal figure slowly rose from the ground, like a Titan from ancient mythology awakening from the depths of the earth.

All forces coalesced into a colossal "Iron Slave," a war behemoth hundreds of meters tall, capable of triggering earthquakes with every step!

Its body was formed from the fusion of the flesh and blood of countless priests.

Its surface is covered with thick metal armor, and each piece of armor is engraved with densely packed gold runes.

His eyes burned like two blazing suns, illuminating the dark night sky.

"Boom...boom...boom..."

The giant took a step, and with each step the earth trembled.

The buildings in Hearthheart shook violently, walls cracked, and houses collapsed...

The residents who remained in the city watched in horror as the terrifying figure rose on the horizon, and they all knelt down, praying that the disaster would pass quickly.

………………

Command center at the northern fortress.

"What the hell is that?!"

The officer on duty gasped in shock.

Ron strode to the monitor screen and squinted as he observed the enormous object.

Through the "observation" ability of the [Threshold of Darkness], he could clearly see the surging energy flow within the giant's body:
It was the force of hundreds of lives forcibly combined into an extremely unstable aggregate that possessed terrifying destructive power.

"The High Priest's Last Struggle".

He said calmly.

"Governor, we..."

Green watched him nervously.

An enemy of this scale was one they had never faced before.

Those armored units, infantry phalanxes, and even half-Iron Corpse squads appeared so insignificant in the face of such a giant.

"Don't worry."

"The larger the target, the easier it is to hit."

He turned to look at the communications officer:
"Command all ranged fire units to switch to 'Beyond Visual Range Strike Mode'."

"Target—that Iron Slave."

"Full firepower coverage, no need to worry about ammunition consumption."

"Yes!"

The communications officer immediately relayed the order.

Around the mining area, more than a dozen concealed firing positions were activated simultaneously.

The heavy magic cannons, which were usually covered by camouflage nets, tore off their disguises and pointed their dark muzzles at the giant in the distance.

These weapons are never shown to others under normal circumstances and are only used in the most critical moments.

And now, that moment has arrived.

"Fifty kilometers to the target...forty-five kilometers...forty kilometers..."

The observers nervously reported the data.

The giant continued to advance step by step, each step covering hundreds of meters at an astonishing speed.

"Into firing range!"

"Fire!"

Ron's orders were calm and decisive.

The next second, the sky was torn apart.

Countless beams of energy shot out from different directions, weaving together in the air to form a net of death that enveloped the giant iron slave!

“Boom, boom, boom, boom—!!!”

The explosions were continuous, and the shockwaves swept across the land like a hurricane!

The giant's body was riddled with charred wounds in the first round of attacks, its metal armor was torn apart, and its flesh and tissue were exposed to the air!
But it did not fall.

On the contrary, the furnace in his chest burned even more intensely, and the wounds began to heal at a visible speed!

"Regeneration ability?"

Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Second salvo, prepare!"

This time, all firepower units opened fire simultaneously.

Energy cannons, missiles, rune-enhanced cannons, and even the half-Iron Corpse troops have brought out shoulder-fired rocket launchers...

The entire sky was illuminated by the fire, and the smoke and dust from the explosion blotted out the sun!

Under such intense firepower, the giant was finally unable to maintain its shape.

Its legs were blown off, and its massive body crashed to the ground, creating a huge crater!

Even so, it is still struggling.

The severed limbs tried to reconnect, and the flames in the furnace burned desperately, attempting to provide enough energy to heal the wounds...

"Dispatch a reconnaissance team to confirm the target's status."

………………

In the dark chamber beneath the temple ruins of Hearthstone.

The high priest's true form lay on the ground, barely alive.

It "watched" the entire battle through its communication with the Iron Slave.

From hope to despair, from believing you can turn the tide to realizing everything is already set in stone...

In just a few tens of minutes, it experienced an emotional rollercoaster.

Now, the train has plunged off the cliff.

Just then, a faint magical fluctuation rang out in the dark room.

That's some kind of communication technique, the kind that can transmit information over extremely long distances.

The high priest barely managed to lift his head and look at the source of the communication.

A familiar energy marker—"Forge Maker".

The only great wizard among the three neighboring colonies with close ties to it.

It is also the only entity in the star field that follows a "faith system" besides itself.

"Still alive?"

The voice of the "forge maker" carried the texture of clashing metal.

“Live…live…” the high priest replied with difficulty.

"That's good."

“Listen, there’s a reason I’m refusing to send troops.”

"The entity behind the mining area... is beyond our ability to confront."

"Not right now, but I have a suggestion for you."

The high priest's dull eyes suddenly lit up.

"You... you have a solution?"

"I do not have."

The voice of the "forge forger" carried a hint:

"But you have it."

"I……"

"Contact your original self."

These words struck the high priest like a thunderbolt.

Contact the original entity, which is the "Dominator" wandering in the distant void.

Summon it to descend and crush all enemies... This is indeed the simplest, most direct, and most effective solution.

The "Dominator" possesses terrifying power far exceeding that of the "Great Wizard," and can even fight the "Mother" for a while in her prime.

Even the offspring of that unknown "mother" is nothing more than a slightly larger ant in the face of the ruler.

Once the true form descends, all problems will be easily solved.

The mines will be razed to the ground, that hateful outsider will be torn to shreds, and the Stoker Star will return to its control...

But... but what about it itself?

This split entity, possessing independent consciousness, will be reabsorbed, merged with, and erased the moment the original body descends...

Like a drop of water returning to the ocean, they can no longer distinguish each other.

It will "die," or more accurately, "disappear."

All memories, all experiences, all emotions... will become a tiny data fragment in the body's memory bank.

"I...I don't want to disappear..."

The high priest's voice trembled.

"Then you'll have to hide in that hole forever, living like a rat and barely surviving."

The "forge maker's" tone was cold and realistic:
"Or one day, the people in the mine will find you and kill you completely."

"Anyway, it doesn't matter to me."

"I'm just offering an option."

"The choice is yours."

Communication was interrupted.

The dark room fell silent again.

Only the high priest's heavy breathing echoed in the darkness.

To contact the main entity, or not to contact it...

This is a choice concerning survival, and also a philosophical question concerning "self".

What exactly is it?
Is it part of the "Dominator's" true form?

Or is it an independent life?

If it's the former, then returning to one's original self is naturally "going home".

But if it's the latter... then summoning the original body is tantamount to suicide.

The high priest huddled in the corner, his eyes flashing and dimming intermittently.

Reason tells it that summoning its true form is the only way out.

But instinct screamed—I don't want to disappear! I want to live!

Time passes minute by minute.

In the dark room, this once arrogant "god" is now experiencing the most painful choice in his existence.

………………

The central land, the ancestral home of the Wangguan clan.

Eve sat in the patriarch's study, with a series of "letters of advice" from the academic alliance spread out in front of her.

Those documents, with their tactful wording and neat format, exuded politeness in every word and were filled with concern in every sentence.

But when they were combined, it was like countless invisible ropes slowly tightening, trying to strangle her along with the entire Crown Clan.

"Given that the management efficiency of the Wang Guan clan has declined in recent years."

It is strongly recommended that some resource quotas be temporarily frozen until the new clan leader has fully demonstrated his management capabilities, at which point they can be restored…

Eve put down the documents, her fingertips gently tracing the fine wood grain on the table.

This is the desk my mother used to use to work on documents; its surface bears countless traces of "radiation."

Now, this position belongs to her, but is she really ready?
"Your Highness."

A maid's knocking at the door interrupted Eve's thoughts.

Elder Reginald sent a message saying that he is unwell and may not be able to attend tonight's clan meeting.

Cecilia's tone was somewhat displeased when she reported this.

Feeling unwell?
Would a Dark Sun-level wizard miss an important meeting due to "physical discomfort"?
This reason doesn't even qualify as a perfunctory excuse.

"I see."

Eve nodded: "Please tell Elder Reginald that I hope he recovers soon."

"Furthermore, tonight's meeting will proceed as scheduled and need not be postponed due to his absence."

The maid bowed and withdrew, and the room fell silent once more.

"Elder Reginald..."

Eve activated her magical property—[Absurd Resonance]—and combined it with the "Mirror Spell" taught to her by the King of Absurdity.

By combining the two, she can perceive the hidden emotional fluctuations and true intentions behind the target by observing the "marks" left by the target.

Reginald came to the study this afternoon and sat in the visitor's chair for a full fifteen minutes.

Although on the surface it was just a routine visit to inquire about clan affairs.

But after he left, the lingering magical energy on the chair revealed even more information.

Eve walked to the chair, stretched out her hand, and hovered her fingertips about a finger's width above the back of the chair.

[Mirror Spell] is activated silently.

Fine ripples appeared in the air, like the ripples created by a pebble thrown into water.

The ripples gradually became clearer in her eyes, eventually forming a series of blurry images:
Reginald sat there, his fingers tapping on the armrest, a thoughtful glint in his eyes;
What was he hesitating about? What was he weighing?

Then, his expression turned cold, as if he had made a decision, and the scene ended there.

But the lingering emotional fluctuations were clearly conveyed to Eve: suspicion, vigilance, and a certain... probing.

“He’s observing.” Eve withdrew her hand.

"Let's see if I can handle this crisis."

“If I handle it properly, he will genuinely support me.”

Reginald Saint Mange, this ancestor who has been asleep for thousands of years, is proud, arrogant, and stubborn.

Yet he possessed the pride of a wizard of that era—he could question the abilities of his juniors and challenge the qualifications of his successors, but he would never betray his clan.

Those people from the academic alliance had obviously contacted him, but he refused.

However, he also did not tell Eve about this.

"Is this your test, Elder Reginald?"

Eve chuckled softly and turned to walk towards the desk.

She took out a blank piece of parchment and gently touched it with her finger.

Magic flowed across the paper, outlining names one by one:

The initiators of the interim council of the academic alliance, the elders who signed the "letter of recommendation," and the forces that were pulling the strings behind the scenes...

Each name represents an undercurrent.

These undercurrents converged to form a storm powerful enough to engulf the Crown Clan.

………………

The crystal coffin chamber deep within the ancestral land.

Seven crystal coffins stood silently in rows, four of which were already open—Diaz, Vivian, Reginald, and the fourth, who had just been awakened.

In front of the fourth crystal coffin, Eve was having her first formal meeting with the elder who had just awakened.

"Child, let Grandma take a good look at you."

Inside the crystal coffin, an elderly woman who looked to be about seventy or eighty years old slowly sat up.

This is Adeline Saint-Mange.

Cassandra's great-grandmother—or more accurately, her distant ancestor, fourteen generations removed.

She had been asleep for even longer than Reginald.

At the distant end of the Third Age, Adeline was already one of the pillars of the Crown Clan.

His strength has reached the peak of the Dark Sun level, and he is only one step away from becoming a Grand Wizard.

But it was this "one step away" that led her to choose to fall into a deep sleep.

I look forward to a breakthrough when the right opportunity arises in the future.

“Grandma,” Eve said respectfully, bowing, “Welcome alighting from your slumber.”

"Oh, don't be so polite."

Adeline smiled and waved her hand, then stood up from the crystal coffin.

"We are a family, we don't need so many rules."

"This magical energy fluctuation...is it at the Moon-level?"
"That's truly remarkable. To break through to the Moon-level at such a young age, you've already surpassed what I achieved in my youth."

Her tone was gentle, and her eyes were kind, just like a grandmother who truly loves her younger generation.

But beneath this gentle exterior, Eve sensed a subtle unease.

The sense of disharmony was indescribable, like a seemingly perfect painting with an extra touch of color in some inconspicuous corner.

"Grandma, you flatter me."

Eve maintained a respectful demeanor, but in her heart, she had already quietly activated the [Absurd Resonance].

Adeline's magical energy fluctuations were very stable, and her emotions seemed very genuine.

But beneath that stable surface, a very subtle undercurrent is surging.

That's... resentment?

No, it's not just resentment.

There is also resentment, anger, ambition, and a twisted desire that has been suppressed for thousands of years and has finally found an outlet.

“Child, Grandma has heard about the difficulties you are facing.”

Adelinea withdrew her hand:
"Those old guys from the academic alliance are really going too far."

“Cassandra is only temporarily out of contact, and they can’t wait to divide up the Crown Clan’s legacy.”

"They're like a flock of vultures!"

She spoke indignantly, seemingly genuinely standing up for Eve.

"However, now that Grandma is awake, she won't let them succeed."

A sharp glint flashed in Adeline's eyes:

"Although I am old, I am not at the point where I should be bullied."

“I watched some of the elders in those academic alliances grow up.”

"They dare to boss my juniors around? Humph, I'll tear their mouths apart!"

"Grandma, your support means a lot to me."

Eve simply smiled gently:

"I will need your guidance in the days to come."

"It should, it should."

Adeline patted Eve's hand, her tone becoming more affectionate:
"By the way, Grandma heard that you're going to hold a clan meeting soon to discuss how to deal with the pressure from the academic alliance?"

"Yes."

"That's great. Grandma also has some ideas, so we can discuss them with everyone."

Adeline smiled and her eyes narrowed:
“We old folks have lived for so many years and seen all sorts of storms.”

"What does pressure from a mere alliance of academic schools amount to?"

"As long as we are united, they won't be able to cause any trouble."

They spoke with such conviction and such self-righteousness.

But Eve saw a fleeting chill in the depths of her eyes.

"Let's go, child."

Adeline took Eve's arm:
"Take Grandma to see the current situation of the clan."

"The changes over these thousands of years must have been enormous, right?"

The two walked out of the crystal coffin chamber side by side.

Behind them, the empty crystal coffin lay quietly in the shadows.

The coffin lid is engraved with Adelinea's name and the date she fell into a deep sleep.

Below her name, there is a line of small print hidden by the King of Absurdity, recording the reason why she chose to fall into slumber:
"Having lost the battle for the clan chieftainship, he has 'voluntarily fallen into slumber.'" (End of Chapter)