Translator: AnubisTL
When Wizard Noren's ancient and profound figure appeared at the palace entrance, no one needed to be reminded. Every wizard in the hall, regardless of seniority or strength, bowed in unison, paying the highest respect to this eighth-tier wizard.
Jieming bowed with the rest, but his gaze lingered on Wizard Noren for a moment longer.
He truly hadn't expected Wizard Noren to appear here, and it seemed he was even Grandmentor Anton Buchanan's mentor.
Jieming's mind raced, instantly piecing together the logic.
Noren Workshop had always established its foundation and pursued its orthodox development through Logistics-type Wizardry.
Its three pillar disciplines—alchemy, runes, and magic potions—were renowned far and wide.
As the founder of the workshop, Wizard Noren himself must be an existence who had mastered Logistics-type Wizardry to its absolute limit.
It was completely logical for him to be proficient in alchemy and even personally mentor a peak-stage alchemy Great Wizard like Anton Buchanan.
Hiss!!!
A thought flashed through Jieming's mind like lightning, nearly breaking his composure.
So... according to the classifications in those popular novels, I, Jieming, was taught by Clark; Clark was taught by Anton Buchanan; and Anton Buchanan was taught by Noren... Doesn't that make me the direct descendant of the direct line of the Noren Workshop's founder? The legendary "Sect Leader's Direct Line"? The kind of background that brings a whole string of old monsters charging out of the woodwork if you hit the younger generation?
This revelation filled Jieming with a whirlwind of emotions, a strange sense of absurdity.
However, the sentiment vanished as quickly as it had arrived, lasting only a few breaths.
He quickly snapped back to reality. Background was one thing, but in the vast and boundless multiverse, danger lurked everywhere.
The number of logistics wizards in the Noren Workshop was immense. Theoretically, they were all "orthodox," yet they never lacked for casualties when the time came to fall.
Strength was the only eternal foundation.
Wizard Noren entered with a gentle smile, followed by several seventh-tier wizards. Though they all had unique forms, every one of them radiated an aura as vast as the starry sea.
Grandmentor Anton Buchanan first greeted Wizard Noren with a respectful bow, then turned to the other seventh-tier wizards, exchanging familiar greetings. Their casual banter clearly indicated they were fellow disciples from the same sect.
One wizard in particular seemed especially close to Anton Buchanan. His entire body had completely energy-fied, appearing as if condensed from pure blue arcane energy, with phantom runes continuously flickering and fading around him.
The wizard's voice, vibrating with energy, carried a hint of astonishment. "I never would have thought," he remarked, "that among all of us, you would be the first to touch the threshold of an eighth-tier wizard, Anton."
At these words, Grandmentor Anton Buchanan immediately planted his hands on his hips, puffed out his small chest, and let out a triumphant cackle. "Jiejiejiejie... Of course! I'm a genuine genius! Way more reliable than you old bones!"
Hearing his Grandmentor's utterly unhumble, even somewhat "childish" declaration, Jieming subconsciously glanced at Viola beside him.
As if sensing his gaze, Viola also turned her head.
She looked at Jieming with a confused expression. Though she remained silent due to the solemnity of the occasion, her gaze clearly asked, "What?"
Jieming shook his head slightly in disappointment. He couldn't help but feel that Mentor Clark and himself bore little resemblance to their Grandmentor in personality... On the contrary, Senior Viola's occasionally flighty and showy nature seemed to inherit a fair bit of the Grandmentor's true spirit.
He couldn't resist muttering to himself, Could this be the legendary "skipping a generation" bond? No, that's not right—they aren't even related by blood...
Meanwhile, Grandmentor Anton Buchanan was chatting and laughing with his senior brothers as he respectfully guided Wizard Noren to the main seat he had just occupied.
With a wave of his hand, the light of alchemy flowed across the ground. The earth beside the main seat rose like a living thing, swiftly shaping itself into several ornate stone thrones inscribed with profound runes.
The Grandmentor then took his place beside Wizard Noren, along with the other seventh-tier wizards.
After sitting down, Wizard Noren made a casual gesture. A gentle yet irresistible force swept through the room, and his voice, calm yet clear, echoed in everyone's ears: "We are all family here. There's no need to be so formal. Please, make yourselves comfortable."
"Thank you, Lord Noren/Patriarch!" the crowd bowed and thanked him once more before taking their seats as instructed, though their postures were now even more formal than before.
Wizard Noren's gaze swept slowly across the room. His eyes were not sharp, yet they seemed to pierce through all appearances, staring directly at the essence of things.
When his gaze passed over Jieming, Jieming felt an invisible pressure far greater than that of Grandmentor Anton Buchanan—as if the entire starry universe were pressing down upon him. His breath caught slightly.
Fortunately, the sturdy foundation provided by his Body Tempering Method, forged through a thousand refinements, offered solid support. The mental resistance honed from long-term study of profound knowledge also played its part.
On the surface, Jieming showed no outward sign of distress, though his hands, resting on his knees, clenched slightly.
Wizard Noren's gaze lingered on him for less than half a second, a flicker of imperceptible surprise passing through his eyes before he looked away.
He glanced at Viola and Clark, finally turning to Anton Buchanan beside him. His tone was one of approval:
"Anton, I thought you had already done well by cultivating a disciple like Clark. I never expected your grand-disciple's generation to bring such a pleasant surprise. Very impressive."
Hearing Wizard Noren's personal praise, not only did Grandmentor Anton Buchanan grin from ear to ear, but even Mentor Clark, who had always presented a composed and steady demeanor, couldn't suppress a clearly visible smile on his lips, his eyes gleaming with pride.
The two figures above did not deliberately lower their voices, and the wizards below heard their conversation crystal clear.
In an instant, countless gazes—curious, envious, or probing—all swept toward the area where Mentor Clark was seated, focusing on Jieming, Viola, and Anker.
Faced with this sudden attention, Viola maintained her carefully crafted elegant posture. A slight smile played on her lips—a perfectly measured expression, tinged with a hint of mystery and confidence. Anyone unfamiliar with her true nature would have been completely deceived by this facade.
Jieming and Anker, however, appeared much calmer. Anker, true to his nature, sat upright with a slight stiffness. Jieming kept his eyes lowered, his gaze fixed on his own nose, as if he were an old monk in a deep meditative state, completely oblivious to the outside world's scrutiny.
Only Anker's child seemed a bit nervous. Especially since the wizards present were all far more powerful than him, the pressure he felt from being stared at by so many people was even more intense.
Glancing at the nervous "little fellow," Jieming, Viola, and Clark simultaneously released their auras, enveloping him in a protective embrace. Only then did he seem to relax a bit.
Wizard Noren ignored the minor commotion below. His attention returned to Anton Buchanan, and his tone grew more formal. "Anton, how are you feeling? How is your condition?"
Anton Buchanan's smile faded, and a look of seriousness and confidence—befitting a peak-stage wizard—appeared on his youthful face. "I feel excellent, Mentor. All preparations are complete, and the resonance with the Law has reached the expected level. However, I feel my mental power has not yet reached its absolute limit of perfection. Perhaps I can still accumulate a bit more. I expect to officially begin my breakthrough of the eighth-tier barrier within a month."
Hearing this, Wizard Noren slowly nodded, his eyes filled with relief and anticipation. "Very well. Since you have made your decision, we will wait here for the next month and witness the Noren Workshop gain another eighth-tier wizard."
The other seventh-tier wizards who had come with them also nodded in agreement.
For formal wizards who could live for thousands of years or even longer, a month was but a fleeting moment.
The opportunity to closely observe a peak-stage seventh-tier wizard attempt to break through to the eighth tier held immeasurable value for their own future paths.
(End of the Chapter)
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