Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 672 Ode to New Life

Consciousness sinks into the depths of the spiritual sea.

The Silent Theater stands tall, its three pillars radiating a soft light.

The Pillar of Starlight, the Pillar of Chaos, and the Pillar of Thunder and Fire—these represent the three core elements of Ron's power.

At the very center of the pillar, the [Threshold of Darkness] floats silently.

A body made of starlight, a veil woven from chaos, a door hidden deep within the chest, and a crown that appears and disappears, an empty crown...

Everything is ready.

"let's start."

Ron's will acted like a key, inserting itself into the "core lock" of the nascent undead.

In an instant...

boom!
The entire fifth level of the abyss trembled violently!

It's like the rhythm that all the creatures of the abyss feel when the "Mother" awakens.

This time, however, the source of the rhythm is no longer a fragment of the original consciousness, but a wizard who is about to transcend the level of life!

"This...this is..."

Acelia's voice echoed deep within Ron's consciousness:

"Your ethereal body... is actually actively 'devouring' the surrounding fragments of laws?!"

She was right.

Within Ron's mental landscape, the three pillars of the Silent Theater are frantically "feeding."

The pillars of starlight absorb the fragments of "order" left in the abyss—the remnants of rules from the ruins of ancient civilizations;

The pillars of chaos draw upon the chaotic essence scattered after the "Mother" awakens—a "gift" from the primordial existence.
The pillars of thunder and fire were devouring the destructive aftershocks left by the "devourer"—even if they were just aftershocks, they contained terrifying energy...

"Is this what it means to be a king...?"

Acelia marveled:

"When Pandora broke through to the Great Wizard level, a similar phenomenon seemed to have occurred..."

Her words came to an abrupt end.

Because something even more terrifying happened, Ron's nascent ethereal form began to resonate with his "physical body".

Acelia's voice became serious:
"The difficulty of your fusion is higher than that of other great wizards..."

"This means..."

She took a deep breath:

"Your 'fusion' process may be more intense than that of an ordinary great wizard."

This judgment was quickly verified.

As Ron's will fully sank into the core of the nascent ethereal form, a dazzling light burst forth from his body!

The light pierced through Nari's "protective cocoon," through the walls of the Chaos Palace, and through the Sea of ​​No Light in the fifth layer of the Abyss...

They surged upwards, breaking through the barriers of the fourth, third, second, and first layers!

Finally, it broke through the "boundary" of the Great Abyss and appeared in the sky of the main world!

When that beam of light pierced the sky, the wizards all stopped what they were doing.

They looked up at the direction from which the pillar of light was rising.

That is the entrance to the Great Abyss.

"That is……"

A young apprentice stared wide-eyed, his voice filled with disbelief:

"Has someone broken through in the Great Abyss?"

"And it's... a breakthrough at the Grand Wizard level?!"

His mentor beside him nodded solemnly:

"This level of magical fluctuation can indeed only be triggered by a breakthrough of a great wizard."

"But the problem is..."

His brows were furrowed:

Who would choose to break through to the Great Wizard level in the Great Abyss?

"The environment there is too dangerous; any interference could cause the breakthrough to fail..."

"unless……"

Another wizard chimed in, his tone carrying a hint of conjecture:

"Unless that person is already confident enough to make a breakthrough in the abyss environment."

"or……"

"He himself has some special connection with the abyss."

"You mean..."

The first wizard suddenly realized:
"Ron Ralph?!"

Upon hearing the name, the surrounding wizards all showed expressions of understanding.

Ron Ralph, the founder of Narrative Potions and a core member of the Observatory, is said to have a special partnership with an ancient being from the Abyss.

If he broke through in the abyss... then everything makes sense.

"and many more……"

An apprentice suddenly pointed to the sky:
"That beam of light... seems to be changing?"

Everyone looked up.

They saw that the beam of light, which was originally just of ordinary brightness, was now expanding rapidly!

Its color is also changing—from the initial silver-white to a deep purplish-black, interspersed with star-like sparkling points of light and thunder-fire-like violent patterns!
"This...this is no ordinary breakthrough phenomenon of a great wizard!"

A hollow projection of a great wizard suddenly appeared in the sky:
“This is… a sign of being destined to become king!”

"The potential to become a king?!"

These four words exploded in the hearts of the wizards present like a bombshell!

The potential to become a king means that the one who breaks through has the potential to become a "Witch King"!

Throughout the long history since the Second Age, there have been no more than twenty great wizards who possessed the "potential to become king"!

Of those, less than half actually became Witch Kings!
“It’s… so terrifying…”

The young apprentice could no longer utter a complete sentence:

"Ron Ralph...how old is he?"

"Not even a hundred years old, right?"

"He... he actually broke through to the Great Wizard level before he was even a hundred years old?"

"And he even possesses the 'qualities to become king'?!"

A deathly silence fell over the surroundings.

Everyone realized that they were witnessing a historic moment—a moment that could change the landscape of wizarding civilization.

At the same time, unusual activity also occurred at the headquarters of various major forces in the central region.

At the headquarters of the School Alliance, projections of several great wizards appeared simultaneously in the council chamber.

"Who is this?"

An aged voice spoke first:
"Breaking through in the Great Abyss and triggering this level of extraordinary phenomenon..."

"It can only be that person."

Another voice answered calmly:

"Ron Ralph."

"Besides him, who else would choose to break through in the abyss?"

"and……"

His tone became complicated:

"Have you all forgotten those fluctuations that emanated from the Great Abyss a while ago?"

"The 'Mother's' residual consciousness awakened, and the four Witch Kings joined forces to suppress it..."

"Ron Ralph was probably involved in that incident as well."

"perhaps……"

"His breakthrough was somehow related to that event."

"Using the residual chaotic essence after 'Mother's' awakening?"

The third sound is inserted:
"That's a reasonable explanation."

"The essence of chaos is the purest power of 'change,' and it does indeed greatly help in the condensation of the ethereal body."

"If he can successfully tame this power..."

"His ethereal form is likely to far surpass that of wizards of the same level."

"Is this what it means to be a king...?"

The eldest high priest let out a long sigh:
"Back when I broke through to the next level, I didn't even trigger a decent phenomenon..."

"Young people these days are getting more and more terrifying."

………………

Observation station, sixth-layer space base station.

Nydil Brown stood alone in the control room.

Her fiery eyes were fixed on the terrifying beam of light in the holographic projection, her expression shifting between light and shadow.

"The qualities of a king..."

These four words were squeezed out from between her teeth:
"They actually did it..."

When Ron first came to the observatory, she saw him as "a pawn to be used."

Later, as his power continued to grow, she began to regard him as an "ally who needed to be won over."

Later, as he demonstrated more and more amazing potential, she began to see him as a "potential rival".

And now...

"Competitors?"

Nitil laughed self-deprecatingly:
"No, it's not anymore."

"From today onwards, he will become..."

"I need to look up to someone."

The gap between a great wizard with the potential to become a king and an ordinary great wizard is far greater than the gap between a great wizard and a formal wizard.

Because "the potential to become a king" means that he has the potential to become a witch king.

The Witch King... is the one who stands at the very top of wizarding civilization, a great being who can converse with the "rules" themselves.

This is the Chaos Palace on the fifth level of the abyss.

Ron's consciousness was completely immersed in the process of "fusion".

He could feel his soul making its final "connection" with the nascent form of the ethereal body.

The feeling was peculiar—like infusing one's "existence" into a set of "armor" tailor-made for oneself.

Every corner of the soul resonates with every structure of the void.

Memory, emotion, cognition, will...

All the elements that constitute the existence of "Ron Ralph" are being "accepted," "integrated," and "strengthened" by the Void Remains.

He could sense that his "form of existence" was undergoing a fundamental change.

He was once a wizard who “used” the undead; now, he is becoming the undead himself.

The three pillars of the Silent Theater are becoming part of his "body," just like his heart, liver, and lungs.

The starlight pillars became his "eyes";
Through it, one can "see" things that are invisible to the naked eye:

The flow of magic, the regular patterns, the trajectory of cause and effect... everything was as clear as day.

The pillars of chaos became his "skin".

Through it, one can "perceive" things that ordinary senses cannot perceive:

Fluctuations of possibilities, the pulse of change, the rhythm of absurdity... all the "uncertainties" are under his control.

The Thunder and Fire Pillars then transformed into "blood".

Through it, he is able to "drive" the flow of power:

The circulation of energy, the output of attacks, the implementation of will... with each heartbeat, terrifying power of thunder and fire surges through the blood vessels.

And that mysterious door became the core of his soul.

The "mysterious door," which could only be opened under specific conditions, has now become one with his "existence."

When he "breathes," the door opens slightly, absorbing the surrounding information and energy;
When he "thinks," the veil of chaos will gently flutter, filtering out unnecessary distractions;

When he "acts," the doors will swung open completely, unleashing a terrifying power capable of destroying everything...

"This... is the power of the great wizard."

Ron’s consciousness slowly rose from the depths of “fusion”.

He opened his eyes.

The first thing you see is Nari's worried face.

"baby?!"

The apostle's voice was full of surprise:

"You succeeded?!"

Ron nodded, then looked down at his hands.

On the surface, these hands look no different from before.

She was still tall, fair-skinned, and exuded a scholarly air.

But he knew that these hands had already become a "projection" of a ethereal body.

It is the "carrier" of power, and also part of his existence as a "great wizard".

He can dismantle these hands at any time if he wants.

Transformed into countless particles of starlight, chaos, and lightning, they can be reassembled into any form he desires.

This is the essential difference between a Grand Wizard and a Dark Sun-level Wizard.

Even Dark Sun-level wizards are still limited by their "physical bodies";

The great wizard has transcended the concept of "physical body".

Their "bodies" are merely a "form of manifestation" of illusory remains;
Their "existence" is the truly immortal "core".

"finally……"

Ron slowly stood up, an indescribable sense of power surging from the depths of his body:

"He has become a great wizard."

He raised his head, his gaze piercing through the dome of the Chaos Palace, through the lightless sea of ​​the fifth layer of the abyss, through layers of spatial barriers... all the way to the sky of the main world.

There, the pillar of light that he had triggered by his breakthrough was still burning fiercely.

Countless wizards are looking up in awe, countless mortals are kneeling in prayer, and countless factions are urgently deliberating...

The entire main world took notice of him because of his breakthrough.

………………

The beam of light lasted for a long time.

During this time, the sky surrounding the Great Abyss and the Central Land was constantly shrouded in that terrifying light.

Initially, there was fear.

Ordinary people didn't know what was happening; they only saw a "pillar of light reaching the heavens" suddenly appear in the sky, like a sign of a god descending to earth.

Many people thought it was a disaster and took refuge in cellars or protective facilities.

Then comes awe.

When the news spread—that this was a phenomenon occurring when a wizard was breaking through to a higher realm—the fear of ordinary people gradually transformed into piety.

They went outside and knelt in the street to pray to the pillar of light.

In their eyes, the being capable of causing such a phenomenon is not much different from a god.

Then came the frenzy.

When the name "Ron Ralph" was made public, countless young apprentices went crazy for him.

They gathered in the academy's square, loudly discussing the deeds of this "legendary wizard":

"The founder of narrative potionology!"

"Became a great wizard before he was even a hundred years old!"

"He also possesses the qualities to become king!"

He is a legend of our time!

"No, he will become an existence that surpasses even legends!"

The apprentices' adoration spread like wildfire.

Ron's name was written in countless diaries, letters, and even love letters from young girls and boys.

People began collecting all information about him:
From his apprenticeship records in the Black Mist Forest to his academic papers on establishing "Narrative Potions," and his various exploits at the observation station...

An unofficial biography titled "Ron Ralph" sold out in just a few days.

The reactions of the formal wizards, however, were more rational.

"The qualities of a king..."

At a tea party of a certain school of thought, several formal wizards were discussing in hushed tones:

Do you really think he has a chance of becoming the Witch King?

"Hard to say."

An elderly wizard shook his head:
"There have been fewer than thirty great wizards in history who possess the potential to become kings."

"But less than half of them actually became witch kings."

"The rest either failed during the assault, were 'eliminated' by other forces, or gave up their own advancement..."

"'The potential to become a king' is just a starting point, not the end point."

“But Ron Ralph is different.”

Another wizard chimed in:
"He has too many powerful forces behind him."

"The Crown Clan—he is Princess Eve's fiancé, and this relationship is enough to secure the full support of the Absurd King."

The King of Records—it is said that He has some kind of special 'care' for Ron Ralph;
The King of Illusions has also expressed 'interest' in him on certain occasions;
And that one in the Great Abyss…”

"If the news is true, she is already at the level of a quasi-Witch King."

"With the support of so many forces, Ron Ralph can progress on his path to becoming a Wizard King more smoothly than anyone else."

The third wizard spoke, his tone tinged with worry:

"When a great wizard possesses the qualities to become king, and also has the support of so many powerful forces..."

Will his will gradually become the 'mainstream' of the entire wizarding civilization, making him a second Cassandra?

"How are we, ordinary wizards without any background or connections, supposed to conduct ourselves in the future?"

This question caused everyone present to fall silent.

The reactions of the great wizards were more complex.

They could sense just how terrifying the power contained within that pillar of light was.

"This level of compression is at least fifty times greater..."

A veteran high priest, in his laboratory, was filled with some reflections:

"Fifty times..."

"When I broke through back then, the magic compression was less than thirty times..."

"And he... a young man who is not even a hundred years old..."

He shook his head with a wry smile:

"I've lived this long, and in the end, I've still been surpassed by a junior."

Similar sentiments arose in the hearts of countless great wizards.

They weren't jealous.

In the wizarding world, strength is the only measure of worth; jealousy is meaningless.

They just sighed.

Times are changing, geniuses are emerging, and these "old guys" are being gradually left behind by the wheels of history.

"but……"

Amidst his reflections, a great wizard suddenly realized something:
The emergence of "the qualities of a king" also means...

His expression turned serious:

"A change of era may really be coming."

In the history of wizarding civilization, whenever a great wizard with the potential to become a king appeared, it was often accompanied by some kind of sign of "epochal change".

This is not superstition, but a natural law.

Because "the qualities of a king" itself represent a power that "transcends the times".

When this force emerges, it signifies that the old order is crumbling and a new格局 (geju, a term referring to a new pattern or structure) is taking shape.

"paradise……"

The great wizard's gaze drifted towards some distant, ethereal direction:
"How much longer can that ruler hold out?"

………………

"Mors antiqua transit, vita nova surgit..."

"Death vanishes, life rises..."

This folk song, titled "Carmen Renascentiae (Ode to New Life)," is said to have originated at the end of the Third Age.

At that time, the wizard civilization had just experienced a devastating internal conflict.

Countless schools of thought perished, their lineages severed, and once-glorious names streaked across the night sky of history like shooting stars before plunging into darkness forever.

But it was on those ruins that the dawn of the Fourth Age began to sprout.

New schools of thought emerged like mushrooms after rain, new theories were born in debate, and new legends rose from blood and fire...

So, a half-elf poet wrote this song.

He chanted in the ancient Elvish language about the cycle of death and rebirth.

The lyrics have been passed down to this day and have withstood the test of time, yet they have never been forgotten.

Simply because it sings out the most profound truth:
Nothing in this world is permanent;
Death is not the end, but the beginning of another journey.

And new life never comes out of thin air.

It is always built on the ruins of the collapsed old order, drawing nourishment from decay, and eventually breaking through the soil.

……

The capital of the Kingdom of Farouk.

The lingering echo of that towering pillar of light had long since dissipated.

But the shock it caused is like a boulder thrown into a lake, still creating ripples to this day.

“Ron Ralph…”

The elderly man, lying on his sickbed, uttered this name.

His once handsome face is now etched with wrinkles by the years.

Her long golden hair had long since faded to gray, sparsely plastered to the pillow.

This is Andrei Farouk.

The King of the Kingdom of Farouk, the inheritor of the Crimson Dragon bloodline, and a once-renowned knight...

Now, he is just an old, frail mortal.

Even with the physique of a bloodline knight, the accumulation of various hidden injuries brought his lifespan to an end.

The flame of life is being extinguished.

Andrei could feel that the burning heat that had once surged through his veins had now become so weak.

It's like a candle flame that's almost run out of oil, which could be blown out by a gentle breeze at any moment.

"Grandpa..."

A voice came from beside the bed.

Andrei turned his head with difficulty and saw a young witch dressed in a plain-colored long dress.

The witch had brown hair and a beautiful face, but with a coldness that kept people at a distance.

“Little Iro…” Andrei said with some relief, “You… are back…”

"Ah."

Ai Luo nodded, and a crack finally appeared on the cold mask.

She reached out and gently grasped the old man's withered hand.

Those hands once wielded a longsword, gripped a scepter, and patted his own head as a child…

Now he is so thin that he is just skin and bones, his hands are covered with age spots, and his veins bulge out like withered vines.

"Silly boy……"

Andrei's voice grew even weaker:

"You...didn't you say...there's an important...research project...at the Emerald Tower...?"

"Those are not important."

Airo shook her head: "Grandpa is the most important." This sentence stunned Andrei.

He looked at his granddaughter, who had become as cold as ice after becoming a wizard, and saw the genuine sadness in her eyes...

In an instant, countless memories flooded back:
He remembered Airo when she was just an ordinary little girl;
I recall the astonished looks on everyone's faces when she first displayed her talent for "puppetry";

I remember how she stubbornly held back her tears in the convoy when she was sent to the Emerald Forest;

Thinking back to the letters she sent back every year, I realize that her love and concern for her family were hidden between the lines…

"Little Airo..."

Andrei was about to say something when he was interrupted by a violent cough.

Ai Luo quickly grabbed a handkerchief from the side and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Grandpa, please stop talking."

Her voice trembled slightly:

"You should rest. I... I'll stay with you."

"Do not……"

Andrei shook his head:

"There are some things...that must be said..."

He laboriously raised his other hand and pointed to a wooden box on the bedside table:
"That... is for you..."

Ai Luo followed his gaze.

It was a sandalwood box, engraved with the emblem of the Farouk royal family.

She walked over and carefully opened the box.

Inside lay a letter and a small badge.

"This is……"

"The sun corona emblem..."

Andrei's voice became distant, as if he were recalling some long-ago memory:
“Your great-uncle Ron gave it to me back then.”

"It bears witness to our friendship..."

"It also witnessed the entire process of the Farouk Kingdom rising from a small border country to a powerful continental nation."

He continued, panting:

"Now... I'm handing it over to you."

"Let it... witness your future..."

Airo's fingers trembled slightly.

She certainly knew the significance of the emblem.

It is not only a symbol of the corona's legacy, but also a testament to the deep friendship between her grandfather and that legend.

"And the letter..."

Andrei's breathing became increasingly rapid:

“It was…written for Ron…”

"If...if there's a chance..."

"Help me... give it to him..."

Airo nodded solemnly: "I will pass it on to my great-uncle."

"well……"

Andrei smiled with relief.

He leaned back against the pillow, his cloudy gaze passing through the window and looking towards the distant horizon.

"Do you know... little Iro..."

His voice became like a dream:

"Back then... in the Black Mist Forest, Ron and I were just... the most ordinary apprentices..."

"At that time... I thought... I was going to die there..."

"Either become...experimental material...or be exiled...to the wilderness..."

“Kron...he changed everything…”

As Ai Luo listened to her grandfather's ramblings, she felt only bitterness in her heart.

She could sense that the old man's life force was rapidly fading.

"Grandpa..."

Would you like to hear...that song?

"Which song..."

“Carmen Renascentiae (Ode to New Life)”.

Airo said softly:

“You once told me that this was your and your great-uncle’s favorite song…”

Andrei's eyes suddenly lit up, as if piercing through the mists of time and returning to that era of youthful passion.

"yes……"

"Back then, we all thought...this song...was so well written..."

"It's clearly a requiem."

"But in the end, it was filled with... hope..."

"Just like...our lives."

Airo nodded, then gently closed her eyes.

Her lips parted slightly, and a melody flowed from them:

“Umbrae ambulant in tenebris profundis…

A shadowy figure lingers in the abyss…

“In regno mortis, anima errabunda…

In the land of the dead, souls wander aimlessly..."

The witch's voice was clear and cold like a spring, carrying an ethereal quality that transcended the mortal world.

Andrei listened quietly, tears welling up in his cloudy eyes.

I haven't listened to this song in a very, very long time.

At that time, he and Ron were both just fifteen or sixteen-year-old boys.

In their simple dormitory, the two looked out at the perpetually gloomy sky and discussed their futures.

"The first verse of this song is about death."

Ron said at that time:
"But have you noticed that it's not singing about 'fear,' but about 'acceptance'?"

"accept?"

Young Andrei didn't quite understand.

Yes, I accept.

Ron's eyes shone brightly:
"Only by accepting the existence of death can one truly begin to pursue the meaning of life."

"The author of this song must be a very remarkable person."

"Because he understands that death is not the end, but only the beginning of another journey."

Following his granddaughter's singing, Andrei softly recited the next line of the lyrics:
“Quod fuit, non erit amplius…

What once existed will no longer exist…

His voice grew softer and softer, yet it carried a calm acceptance of everything.

Death was beckoning him.

But he was no longer afraid.

Death is not the end, but the beginning of another journey.

"Ron..."

He silently repeated that name in his heart: "I'm leaving now..."

Airo's singing continued to echo:
"Sed in fine noctis, aurora nascitur...

From the end of night, dawn is born…

Andrei didn't hear this sentence.

A faint smile graced his face as he drifted into a beautiful dream.

Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on his serene face.

Just like a reflection of his life—he experienced darkness and despair, but ultimately ushered in light and rebirth.

Airo's singing gradually stopped.

She looked at the old man on the bed, and tears silently streamed down her face.

"Grandpa..."

She called softly.

There was no further response.

……

Music drifts from a wooden cabin in the Emerald Forest.

It was an old-fashioned record player, playing that folk song.

The needle on the record glides gently, making the rustling sound unique to old objects.

"In tenebris, semen germinat
From the darkness, the seed sprouted.

In morte, vita nova palpitat…

"The stirrings of new life after death..."

Ellen Meredith sat in a rocking chair by the window, holding a newspaper in her hands.

Her body became even more hunched, her back bent like a tightly bound bow.

But he remained vigorous, his gaze slowly moving between the words on the newspaper.

The front page of the Central Land News Bulletin featured a headline in the largest font, carrying a news story that shook the entire wizarding civilization:

[A once-in-a-millennium event! A new Grand Wizard with the potential to become a king is born!]

Ron Ralph, at less than a hundred years old, has broken through to the Archmage level, setting a new record as the youngest Archmage of the Fourth Age!

[The Alliance of Schools issues a statement: This is a milestone moment for wizarding civilization!]

[Several senior scholars predict that Ron Ralph is likely to become the first new Wizard-King of this era!]

The newspaper also featured a large illustration—a recreation of the towering beam of light.

The artist used every imaginable vibrant color, yet still could not capture even a fraction of the awe-inspiring power of that moment.

"A centenarian great wizard, with the potential to become king—this is far more impressive than Cassandra's back then..."

Mrs. Allen read these words aloud, shaking her head and chuckling.

Her gaze fell on a small print at the bottom of the newspaper:

[Speculation about the future "title" of the newly promoted Grand Wizard]

According to reliable sources, the Alliance of Schools has begun discussing the potential title of Wizard King that Ron Ralph might use in the future.

The most popular options include the following...

[“King of Eternal Darkness” – a quality derived from his ethereal “Threshold of Darkness”]

The "King of Chaos" – originating from his special relationship with the Great Abyss.

【"King of Harmony" - derived from the concept of "harmonizing all things" embodied in narrative potionology】

[“King of Stories” – symbolizing his philosophical view that “everything has a narrative”...]

"The king of stories..."

Mrs. Allen softly uttered the title:

"It really suits that child."

"After all, his life is a fascinating story..."

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Madam? Are you busy?"

A gentle female voice came from outside the door.

"Come in, Lilia."

Mrs. Allen put down her newspaper and turned to look at the doorway.

The door was pushed open, and a witch dressed in a moon-white robe walked in.

Once just an ordinary apprentice, the girl has now grown into the vice-dean of the Emerald Tower and a Moonlight-level elite wizard.

Behind her followed three young figures.

They were three children who looked to be under sixteen years old—two boys and one girl—all wearing the apprentice uniforms of the Emerald Tower Academy.

Their eyes were filled with curiosity and awe as they timidly surveyed everything inside the room.

"lady."

Lilia gave a slight bow, then turned to the three children behind her:
"Come, call grandma."

"Grandma...Grandma, hello..."

The three children spoke in unison, their voices sounding somewhat tense.

Mrs. Allen looked at the little ones:

"You've taken on another new apprentice?"

"Ah."

Lilia nodded, her tone tinged with pride:

“These three children are all very talented.”

"Especially this little guy..."

She pointed to the shortest boy among the three:

"He has a natural affinity for plants."

"Oh?"

Mrs. Allen looked at the boy with great interest.

The boy felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze, lowered his head, and blushed at the tips of his ears.

"Come here, let Grandma take a look."

Mrs. Allen waved.

The boy hesitated for a moment, then mustered his courage and stepped forward.

The old woman stretched out her withered hand and gently stroked his head.

"Good boy..."

"lady……"

Lilia spoke softly:
Have you seen the news in the newspaper?

"Ah."

Mrs. Allen nodded, her gaze falling on the newspaper.

The record player on the table was still playing that folk song.

The song has reached its second verse—the part about "hope":

"Ex cinere, phoenix resurgit
From the ashes, the phoenix rises from the ashes.

“Ex lacrima, flos nascitur…

From tears, flowers bloom…

"This song……"

Mrs. Allen suddenly spoke up:
"Ron really likes this song."

“Back when he worked at the herbal medicine shop, he would sometimes hum a tune while he worked.”

"Back then, I even laughed at him, saying that an apprentice like him had such a romantic air..."

Lilia covered her mouth and chuckled softly:
"I know."

"My mentor also taught me to sing this song."

He said that the lyrics of the song coincided with his own beliefs.

"Death is not the end, but just another form of 'rebirth'."

"Just like potion making, you need to break the old structure in order to reshape a new form."

The three apprentices stood aside, listening with rapt attention.

Although they were young, they vaguely sensed the deeper meaning behind each other's words.

"Okay, okay, let's not talk about this anymore."

The old woman waved her hand:

"What are you kids studying?"

The three apprentices quickly introduced themselves and their areas of expertise.

Mrs. Allen listened attentively, nodding occasionally.

"Not bad……"

Her gaze swept over the three of them, a smile of encouragement playing on her lips:
“Study diligently under the guidance of your mentors.”

"She is one of the most talented potions I have ever seen."

"Although not as good as that monster..."

She gestured towards the name on the newspaper:

"But in this era, it's considered top-tier."

Lilia blushed slightly: "Madam... please don't tease me..."

"Where is the mockery?"

Mrs. Allen chuckled and said:

"The old woman is telling the truth."

"You're just too modest."

"Back when I was working as an assistant at the herbal medicine shop, I was always doubting myself..."

"Even now that they've become Moon-level wizards, they're still the same."

She shook her head, her tone carrying a hint of indulgent reproach:
"I really don't know what to say to you."

Outside the window, the sunlight gradually became dazzling.

The folk song was still playing, and the melody had become increasingly clear.

………………

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

The afterglow of dusk fell on the castle, turning the gray stone walls into a warm golden-red hue.

The melodious sound of a piano drifted from the highest tower of the castle.

That was the melody of a harp—clear and ethereal, like a stream flowing through a mountain valley.

The performer was a woman dressed in a pure white wedding dress.

Those amethyst-like eyes were half-closed, immersed in the world of music.

When she was meditating, the black-haired princess would occasionally wear this wedding dress.

I sit by the window in the tower, playing music, waiting for news of that person's return.

Today is no exception.

In the distance, faint singing could be heard.

The siren, Dale, was cooking in the kitchen while humming something.

“Cor meum te expectat, amor meus…

My heart is waiting for you, my love...

Trans tempus et spatium, ad te veniam…

"I will cross time and space to come to your side..."

This is the third verse of the folk song.

Unlike the sorrow and hope of the first two sections, this section sings of waiting and anticipation.

The black-haired princess closed her eyes and gently plucked the strings as the song played.

Ailan looked at Eve quietly.

For more than 30 years, she has witnessed the other party's growth and transformation, as well as her unwavering love for her master.

"Your Highness..." the tree spirit said softly, "Would you like me to accompany you?"

Eve paused for a moment, then nodded: "Okay."

Ailan picked up the grass flute and put it to her lips.

Meanwhile, Dale in the kitchen also stopped what she was doing.

Eve's fingers danced across the strings, and the music flowed out like a stream;

The tree spirit's grass flute played a melodious and ethereal tune, like the whisper of the wind deep in the forest;
The siren opened her lips, and her gifted voice was somewhat mournful:
"In silentio noctis, nomen tuum susurro
In the stillness of the night, I whisper your name.
Stellae testantur amorem meum
The stars bear witness to my love

Quamvis longe absis, cor meum apud te manet
No matter how far away you are, my heart will always be with you.

Venies ad me……

You will come back to me...

Quia promisisti……

Just because you made a promise…

As the sun gradually sets in the west, the first star twinkles in the sky.

………………

In a dimension beyond time and space, the King of Records writes swiftly in the void with his quill pen.

He is undertaking an important task—officially archiving Ron Ralph's archmage file.

It was a thick "file" recording all the information about this newly appointed great wizard:
Birth, growth, cultivation, breakthroughs, achievements, interpersonal relationships... every detail is recorded in detail, word for word, without missing a single thing.

This is the duty of the king of records.

He is the "historian" of the wizarding civilization, responsible for recording all existences and events worth recording.

Ron Ralph—is undoubtedly a figure worthy of being documented.

“Ron Ralph…”

Salcardo pronounced the name:

"The Great Wizard...possibly destined to become king..."

His quill pen wrote the assessment on the last page of the file:

[File Number: DW-0047892]

Name: Ron Ralph

[Level: Grand Wizard (Potential to Become a King)]

[Assessment: One of the most promising new archmages of this era, with a very high probability of advancing to Wizard King. Continued monitoring is recommended.]

After writing these routine words, Salcardo paused for a moment with his quill pen.

Then, He continued writing:

[Note: This person has special relationships with several witch kings.]

Its fate may have a significant impact on the transition to the Fourth Age.

Salcardo paused again at this point.

He raised his head, his gaze piercing through the endless dimensional barriers, looking towards the direction of the main world.

There, the defenses of "Paradise" are crumbling at a visible rate.

This great creation, which once existed for two eras, is now riddled with holes and on the verge of collapse.

It will collapse completely soon.

At that time, all the prisoners imprisoned by it will be freed.

"The change of eras..."

Salcardo twirled the pen in his hand:

"Finally...it's coming..."

His quill fell again, and he wrote a new record on another document.

It was a document called the "Chronicle of the Fourth Age".

At the outset of the document, Salcardo wrote the following quote in a rather artistic tone:
"Per procellas tenebrarum et ardoris iter facimus
We are traversing a storm of darkness and passion.
Quaecumque turpia, quaecumque ignominiosa in annalibus
All the shameful and despicable things recorded in history
Nostra sunt opera
All of this is due to our actions.

Quaecumque pulchra, Quaecumque sapientia
All good and wise things
Aeque a nobis expetuntur
We also seek the same.

Sic transit gloria and miseria hominum
Human glory and suffering thus flow.

Sed spes aeterna manet……

But hope will last forever…

The quill pen made its final stroke and hovered in mid-air.

　This chapter was really hard to write.

　　I need to take a day off tomorrow to brainstorm the plot for the new volume. The next volume will be the Great Wizard's new journey and also the last volume of this book!
　　(Updates may be less frequent; I need to prepare a new book, which should still be a wizarding story, so the transition should be seamless...)
　　
　
(End of this chapter)