Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 674 Collision of the Void
Meanwhile, at the back of the wedding venue.

Inside the carefully isolated temporary kitchen, another "performance" is taking place.

Hector was still wearing his signature apron.

The words "Kiss the Cook" gleamed on the fabric, but today there was an extra line of smaller text, written in a more ornate font:

Today's Special: Wedding Feast

Love needs to be simmered slowly.

Happiness can't be rushed.

While humming a little tune that only he could understand, he used his tentacles to process various ingredients.

Those ingredients... if they can still be called "ingredients".

On the first cutting board on the left, there lies a piece of "frozen time".

It looks like an amber-colored crystal, but inside it is sealed countless tiny moments.

There are images of a baby opening its eyes for the first time, a frozen moment of an elderly person's last smile, and the trembling curve of a lover's lips during their first kiss...

The King of Absurdity used his tentacles to transform into blades, slicing this piece of time into thin slices.

With each cut, those sealed moments are briefly "awakened," playing in the air for a moment before sinking back into stillness.

"The flavor of time needs to be paired with the seasoning of 'eternity'..."

He muttered to himself and took a small bottle from the side.

The bottle contains "the echo of a star's last second".

Those were fragments scattered when a star collapsed, captured by a great wizard who devoted his life to them, and ultimately presented them as a precious gift to the King of Absurdity.

On the second cutting board, there was a slowly rotating "dawn".

"Dawn jelly tastes best when it's fresh..."

The King of Absurdity gently lifted the ball of light with his tentacles and placed it into a filter woven from "sighs".

Excess impurities are sieved out, leaving only the purest core of "hope".

On the third cutting board...

"Oh dear, this one's a bit naughty~"

He smiled as he spoke, while simultaneously pressing down on a piece of "inspiration" that was constantly trying to escape with his three tentacles.

"Sweetie, today is Eve's special day, you have to cooperate!"

The tentacles gently caressed the restless cluster of light, as if soothing a frightened little animal.

The sparks of inspiration gradually subsided, shimmering softly in the tentacles of the King of Absurdity.

"That's right~"

He nodded in satisfaction, then placed the spark of inspiration into a container filled with "tears of oblivion" to soak.

On the other side of the kitchen, several waiters were carefully preparing tableware.

The penguin wearing a top hat is using an ivory cane to direct the placement of the plates;
The three rabbits were arguing in the corner about which fork to use with the fourth course;

The carrot display stand is responsible for monitoring the freshness of the vegetables, occasionally poking those carrots that look "not very fresh" with a leaf;

Even those eyes that are usually only responsible for monitoring are now wandering around the kitchen, ensuring that every step goes smoothly.

"Owner."

The penguin gentleman examines a plate that is about to be baked through his monocle:

"The first appetizer is ready."

"Very good~"

The King of Absurdity put down his "spark of inspiration" and turned to look at the dish that was about to be served.

In the center of the plate, a crystal-clear substance floats.

"Go ahead, let the guests taste what 'the flavor of time' truly means!"

The King of Absurdity waved his tentacles.

The penguin gentleman nodded solemnly and led a group of waiters carrying trays toward the banquet hall.

When the first appetizer was served, Wayne almost didn't recognize what it was.

It was a crystal clear...something.

It may resemble ice crystals, but it exudes a gentle warmth.
It can be described as a gemstone, yet it also exudes a vibrant, life-giving energy.

Most strangely, it floats above the delicate little dish, hovering in mid-air without any force.

"Please enjoy."

A penguin wearing a top hat bowed slightly and retreated.

The old wizard hesitated for a moment.

His intuition told him that this dish was anything but ordinary.

Two hundred years of life experience taught him one thing: when intuition gives a warning, it's best to take it seriously.

However, the guests around them had already begun to taste it.

Some people gasped in amazement, some fell silent, and some... froze on the spot, tears welling up in their eyes.

Wayne took a deep breath, gently picked up the ice crystal with his silver fork, and put it in his mouth.

Then, he froze.

That's not "cold".

It's not "sweet" either.

That is... "eternity".

Wayne's consciousness was extracted from his body.

He witnessed the birth of the universe, the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of civilizations...

He saw...himself.

A tiny being, standing somewhere in the river of time, looking up at all of this.

He is insignificant, yet not humble, for he is "witnessing".

Witnessing itself is a form of eternity.

By the time Wayne came to his senses, the ice crystal had already melted on his tongue.

It leaves only a faint aftertaste, like a traveler who has finally reached their destination after traveling for millions of years.

Finally, I can put down my luggage and sigh softly under the porch of my destination.

Wayne opened his mouth, but found himself unable to speak.

This transcends the concept of "food" and can even be described as... philosophy, a worldview presented through taste, and the meaning of existence through cooking ingredients.

"Is this my first time eating the King of Absurdity's food?"

An old voice, tinged with laughter, came from the side.

Wayne turned his head and saw an old woman with a hooked nose smiling at him.

The old woman was dressed in a simple robe and looked like an ordinary wizard from some fringe school of thought.

However, Wayne's intuition warned him once again that the old man was not as simple as he appeared.

“Yes,” he answered truthfully. “I had only heard of it before, but had never tasted it myself.”

"Then you're in luck today."

The old woman used a silver fork to pick up some ice crystals from her plate and put them in her mouth:

"The King of Absurdity rarely cooks himself. The last time He cooked for so many people was when Cassandra was born."

"But today's dishes were prepared with even more care than last time."

"after all……"

Her gaze fell upon the main stage in the distance, where a perfect couple stood:
"This is a great day for His descendants and for the young man whom He has chosen."

"Old man..."

Wayne hesitated for a moment:
"you are……"

"She's just an old woman who likes to join in the fun."

The old woman waved her hand:
"Enjoy today's feast, young man."

“This kind of opportunity…” her voice became distant, “may only come once in a lifetime.”

By the time the third course, "Dawn Salad," was served, Eileen had barely recovered from the shock of the first course.

However, looking at the soft golden light in the plate, she was once again deeply confused.

It floats in the center of the plate, radiating a comforting warmth, and is surrounded by a few crystal-clear "dewdrop leaves".

"How...how do we eat this?"

Eileen looked to Wayne for help.

The old wizard's complexion was no better than hers.

Clearly, even a seasoned researcher like him would be at a loss when faced with this level of "culinary art".

"Just use a fork."

A voice came from the other side.

Eileen turned her head and saw the young administrative officer, Elliot Wander, smiling as he demonstrated.

He gently pierced the ball of light with his silver fork, encountering no resistance whatsoever, as if he had pierced a soft cloud.

Then, he put that "piece" of light into his mouth.

Eileen noticed a subtle change in Elliott's expression as he entered the mouth.

The change was hard to describe; it was like suddenly remembering something important, or like finally putting down a heavy burden.

"I used to be the intelligence officer for Lord Cassandra, and I also got to eat the dishes cooked by His Majesty Hector."

When I first tried this dish, I was too afraid to touch the fork. Later, I followed the tower master and her wizards, learning by imitation.

Elliott said softly:
"Don't worry, it won't bite."

Eileen mustered her courage and, imitating him, plunged the silver fork into the ray of dawn.

The texture... is amazing, it feels like a creamy, soft cream puff.

She put that "piece" of light into her mouth.

Then, the witch's eyes welled up with tears.

Her long-buried memories were awakened, and she recalled the amazement she felt when she first saw magic as a child.

The joy of being promoted to a full-fledged wizard;

The pride of being praised by one's mentor...

She tasted all the moments that had once filled her with hope.

Those memories faded by time, those emotions buried by the trivialities of daily life, those precious moments she thought she had forgotten... all revived on her tongue at this moment, as vivid as if they had just happened.

"This is..." she murmured to herself, "...the power of a Witch King..."

To concretize abstract concepts—time, eternity, hope—into flavors that can be tasted.

This mastery over the "rules" themselves has surpassed the scope of her comprehension.

"Not just strength."

Wayne's voice came from the side:

"More than anything, it's about 'understanding'."

"Only by truly understanding what 'hope' is can you cook it into this flavor."

"Only by truly experiencing the length of 'eternity' can we feel the weight of time in a single moment."

"The cooking of the king of absurdity... is not just 'skill'."

"It is His 'interpretation' of this universe."

Eileen nodded thoughtfully.

She lowered her head, looking at the last glimmer of dawn remaining in the plate.

It was still slowly rotating, radiating a warm golden light.

It was as if they were waiting for her to continue savoring the next "hope".

Just as everyone was enjoying their meal...

"Everyone."

Eve's voice was amplified and carried throughout the entire area:

"Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend today's grand event."

She bowed slightly, her black hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall:

"Our arrangement is to separate the Grand Wizard Ascension Ceremony from the wedding."

"The celebration comes first, followed by the wedding."

"Next, let's complete the various procedures for the promotion celebration."

She exchanged a glance with her husband beside her.

“As is customary,” Eve continued:
"Newly promoted Grand Wizards need to receive 'sparring and guidance' from wizards of the same rank during the celebration."

"This is a friendly form of exchange that allows newcomers to demonstrate their abilities and also allows other great wizards to express their 'welcome'."

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly:

"To demonstrate the spirit of openness, this exchange session will adopt the 'virtual collision' format."

"The two great wizards simultaneously unleash their ethereal forms to engage in combat."

As soon as these words were spoken, a commotion immediately broke out in the room.

Hollows collide!

This is no ordinary "sparring".

In the world of the Great Wizard, the Void is the most essential power.

This is the culmination of their centuries of cultivation, a manifestation of the soul, and an externalization of the "self".

The clash between the ethereal remains of two great wizards signifies that they will directly compete in terms of "foundation" and "essence."

There are no tricks involved; strength is strength, and weakness is weakness.

"Your Highness Eve is going to..."

Eileen's voice trembled slightly. Although she was only a formal wizard, she had heard of the horrors of "phantom collision".

Wayne did not answer, but instead looked intently at the main stage.

He noticed that the Great Wizard Ron's expression remained calm throughout, as if he had known this would happen all along.

Princess Eve's expression lacked the gentle shyness expected of a bride; instead, it carried a hint of... vengeful pleasure.

"As is customary, I will invite several senior high priests to have a friendly exchange with my husband."

Eve's gaze swept across the crowd, her smile widening.
"Lord Cyrus, Lord Elwin, Lord Nitil..."

She lingered over each name, letting the words echo in the air for a moment longer:
"The three of you are all highly respected seniors in the academic alliance. Surely you can offer our newly promoted Grand Wizard a lot of 'guidance'?"

He spoke humbly and politely.

The wording is flawless.

But who among those present wasn't a shrewd and calculating person?

Who can't hear the underlying meaning?

Cyrus—the main instigator of the farce of "questioning the Crown Clan's right of succession"—had personally plotted to seize Cassandra's estate;

Elwin – the Discipline Elder who repeatedly thwarted Eve's proposals in secret, and even obstructed Professor Yutel's phallus inheritance ceremony;
Neytyl Brown—the current head of the Abyss Observatory—is someone whose feud with Ron is well-known to the veterans of the observatory present. These three individuals encompass almost all the great wizards who have had conflicts with Ron or Eve over the past few decades.

Calling them out at the same time—how is this an "invitation to exchange skills"?
“So cruel…”

Elliott sighed softly beside him:

"Princess Eve is using the celebration as an excuse to settle old scores all at once..."

“What’s even more ruthless is…” Wayne added:

"Under the watchful eyes of the four Witch Kings and hundreds of wizards, the Grand Wizard who was called upon had no choice but to accept."

In reality, whether the three accepted or refused, they had already lost.

To accept it would mean colliding with Ron, who possesses the "potential to become king," in front of everyone, and the outcome was predictable.

Refusing is tantamount to admitting defeat. How will you survive in the School Alliance after that?
This is a dead end, a dead end specifically tailored for those three.

Cyrus sat in the corner of the side wing, feeling the air around him thin.

He could feel countless gazes converging on him—some waiting to see a good show, some gloating, and some feeling sorry for him… but none of them showed “sympathy.”

"Lord Cyrus?"

Eve's voice rang out again, carrying just the right amount of "concern":
"You seem a little hesitant? If you're not feeling well, we can wait a bit..."

These words, though seemingly considerate, were like a soft knife, piercing straight into Cyrus's pride.

Feeling unwell?
Is this implying that he is old and frail and dares not accept the challenge?
Cyrus's face turned pale and then flushed.

He knew he couldn't avoid this hurdle today.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to stand up, forcing a smile onto his face:

"Since Your Highness Eve has extended such a warm invitation, I will gladly oblige."

He strode towards the center of the field.

The surrounding whispers surged in like a tide, though all were kept low, how could they possibly escape the great wizard's senses?
"That's Cyrus, he was incredibly successful back in the day..."

"I heard there's something wrong with his illusory body; it's not fully constructed..."

"Now there's something good to watch..."

Cyrus gritted his teeth, trying to appear calm.

When he arrived at the center of the field and stood opposite Ron, he truly felt the oppressive atmosphere.

The other party was more profound, deep, and unfathomable than any great wizard he had ever seen.

It's like standing in front of a bottomless door, with the boundless darkness behind it silently watching you.

“Senior Cyrus,” Ron said, “please.”

Cyrus quietly gathered his strength.

My only chance is to launch a preemptive attack before the opponent can deploy their ethereal form.

Although it's not honorable, as long as the other party suffers a hidden loss, the situation will look much better later on.

Magic surged through his body, and he abruptly unleashed his [Tower of Fragments].

A tower made up of countless pages appeared behind him.

At first glance, the Tower of Fragments is quite spectacular, with each floor surrounded by pages of different colors.

However, upon closer inspection, one can find countless cracks in the tower.

The pages are not perfectly joined; there are obvious misalignments in some places and even gaps in others.

This is the illusory remains of Cyrus.

He was indeed very talented when he was young, and was considered outstanding among his peers.

But there is a seemingly insurmountable gap between "good" and "top-notch".

His "will" was not strong enough to independently construct a complete illusory core.

In order to break through to the level of a great wizard, he spent more than two hundred years collecting various fragments of knowledge from all over the world.

Some were unearthed from ancient ruins, some were traded from other wizards, and some... were obtained through certain dishonest means.

He forcibly fused these fragments together, piecing them together from various places, and finally constructed the prototype of the [Tower of Fragments].

He was able to barely form a physical body only by relying on the "remnants of his mentor's remains" left behind after his death.

However, such a skeletal structure is inherently flawed.

It is not "pure" enough, not "unified" enough, and the various forces within it are constantly antagonizing each other.

Ron watched his movements, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Then, the section on "Threshold of Darkness" will be expanded upon.

He didn't make the entire ethereal body appear; he simply summoned the door.

But when that door appeared, the attack launched by Cyrus [Tower of Fragments] was completely swallowed up.

Then, the breath of chaos was released from the door, causing the [Tower of Fragments] to tremble.

"How can this be……"

Cyrus's expression changed drastically.

He desperately channeled his magic, trying to stabilize his ethereal form.

However, the already unstable pages began to peel off on their own under the counterattack of the [Mysterious Gate]!
One page, two pages, ten pages, a hundred pages... countless pages fluttered down like falling leaves.

Some turned to ashes as they fell, swallowed by the darkness faintly visible behind that door.

Some, having lost their magical support, turned into ordinary pieces of paper, drifting helplessly in the air.

In just three breaths, one-fifth of the tower collapsed.

Cyrus could clearly feel his ethereal body disintegrating at a visible speed.

The feeling was like someone using an invisible hand to tear off pieces of his hundreds of years of accumulated knowledge and skills, and then throwing them into a fire to burn.

Each fallen page represents years, even decades, of his hard work.

And they are disappearing.

It is being swallowed up by "something" behind that door.

"This is... the makings of a king..."

Cyrus's voice was filled with despair.

He finally understood the gap between himself and Ron.

That's a fundamental difference.

It's like the difference between a thatched hut and a fortress made of steel.

No matter how large or ornately decorated a thatched hut may be, it is utterly vulnerable before a true steel fortress.

"Alright," Ron said calmly, retracting his ethereal form.

The door slowly disappeared, as if it had never existed.

Cyrus staggered back two steps, his face as pale as paper.

Although his Tower of Fragments had not completely collapsed, the damage was clearly visible.

"This junior thanks Senior Cyrus for his guidance."

Ron nodded slightly, emphasizing the word "guide".

"No... I dare not accept that."

Cyrus gritted his teeth and forced out those words.

He practically fled back to his seat, no longer daring to make eye contact with anyone.

"That's it? You couldn't even withstand a single move?"

“Didn’t you see? Grand Wizard Ron didn’t even ‘attack first,’ he just reacted instinctively.”

"【Tower of Fragments】? I think 'Tower of Residues' would be a more fitting name."

"Shh! Keep your voice down, Cyrus is still here..."

"So what if he is? I am also a great wizard. Does he dare to stand up and refute me?"

Cyrus sat in the corner, feeling like an ant being roasted under the scorching sun.

The whispers pierced his ears like needles, each word a reminder that he had lost.

The defeat was complete and utter, without a doubt.

Having been publicly humiliated in front of everyone, how much prestige would he have left in the academic alliance from now on?
"Lord Elwin?"

Eve's voice rang out again, carrying just the right amount of "expectation":
"It's your turn."

Alvin's heart sank as he looked at Cyrus's miserable state.

He still held onto a sliver of hope.

But what he just witnessed shattered his illusions completely.

Ron's ethereal remains, that [mysterious gate], are simply beyond the capabilities of a great wizard of their level.

But when Eve's gaze fell upon him, Alvin knew he couldn't escape it any longer.

reject?

impossible.

Refusing in this situation is more humiliating than losing on the spot.

Moreover, he served as a Discipline Elder in the Court of Truth—renowned for his "justice" and "majesty."

If you don't even have the courage to fight back, how will you face those who were once "judged" by him?

"Since Princess Eve has invited me, I will gladly comply."

Alvin stood up, trying to appear composed.

He strode towards the center of the field, adjusting his mindset with each step.

Unlike Cyrus, his avatar is "complete".

Although it cannot compare to those top-tier wizards, at least it has no obvious flaws.

Perhaps it can withstand a few more moves?
As long as we don't collapse at the first sign of trouble like Les, we've saved face.

As he walked to the opposite side of Ron, he took a deep breath and unfolded his [Scales of Reason].

A giant scale appeared out of thin air behind him.

The scale pan is gold, the stand is silver, and every component exudes a sophisticated metallic luster.

Unlike Cyrus's dilapidated Tower of Remnants, the Scales of Reason appear flawless:

The scale pan is as smooth as a mirror, the stand is as straight as a spear, and the overall structure is so meticulous that it seems to have been made by the most skilled craftsman.

This is the skeleton that Irwin is so proud of, symbolizing "measurement" and "judgment," the culmination of his centuries of research into "evaluation science."

Within the Alliance of Schools, it was through this illusory body that he became one of the highest arbitrators of the Court of Truth.

Countless wizards have trembled under the "weighing" of this scale; countless judgments have been born from the "ruling" of this scale.

Alvin believed that even when facing Ron, his "Scales of Reason" would not easily collapse.

"Lord Ron's ethereal remains are indeed extraordinary."

He spoke, his voice carrying a hint of seasoned composure:

"However, this old man's scale of reason is specifically used for 'measuring'."

"Everything in the world can be measured—power, wisdom, will, and even 'possibility' itself."

"Let me take a look..."

He narrowed his eyes slightly:
"Just how much of Lord Ron's 'potential to become king' is there?"

After saying that, he activated the power of the Void Remains.

The scales began to spin, emitting a soft "humming" sound.

That is the core capability of the "Scales of Reason"—"Everything can be weighed".

An invisible force surged from the scales, reaching out like tentacles toward Ron, attempting to "weigh" his weight.

In theory, any force, any existence, can be measured by this scale to determine its "value".

This is what Irwin is proud of—he never confronts people directly, but only “measures,” “judges,” and “evaluates.”

But when that measuring force came into contact with the [Threshold of Darkness], the scales began to shake violently!

The gold scales creaked and groaned as they bore a weight far exceeding their limits.

The silver support began to bend, and the originally straight structure underwent a terrible deformation.

Alvin's expression changed drastically.

Through the "measuring" ability of the Scales of Reason, he glimpsed a corner behind that door.

There was nothing there that could be “quantified”, only endless darkness.

The two ends of the "scale of reason" began to become drastically unbalanced.

One end of the golden scale pan was pressed down to its lowest point, bearing that immeasurable "weight".

The other end tilted upwards wildly, almost detaching from the support.

It tried to find a "balance point", but that balance point simply did not exist.

"No...this doesn't make sense..."

Alvin felt his worldview had been shaken.

His prized "scales of reason" are now groaning in despair, on the verge of collapse.

The opponent's ethereal form has exceeded his "measurement".

"Lord Elwin."

Ron's voice rang out: "Your scales seem a little... unsteady."

He tilted his head slightly: "Do you need me to hold back?"

"No...no need."

Alvin hastily retracted his ethereal form, the smile on his face vanishing completely.

The phantom of the Scales of Reason disappeared, but his hand was still trembling slightly.

He suddenly remembered the things he had said on various occasions:
"Ron Ralph's rise was nothing but a fluke..."

"Young people still need more experience..."

"The potential to become a king? I doubt it. Aren't there countless examples in history of highly talented individuals who ultimately faded into obscurity?"

Looking back now, those words seem so ridiculous.

Alvin returned to his seat, feeling as if countless eyes were fixed on him.

Some mocked, some gloated, some sympathized, and some were indifferent.

But none of them were "respectful".

He once wielded immense power in the Court of Truth, thanks to the authority of the Scales of Reason.

Countless wizards trembled under his "measure".

Countless judgments were made in his "rulings".

But now... who would respect an arbitrator who "even a newly promoted archmage cannot assess"?
Alvin closed his eyes, his heart filled with bitterness.

From this day forward, my status in the wizarding world will plummet.

Those who have been "judged" by him will stand up again.

The forces that once groveled before him will begin to turn against him.

This is the price of failure.

(End of this chapter)