Translator: AnubisTL
In the days that followed, the gathered wizards settled into the High Tower Palace, a structure that bore the weight of an entire plane.
More accurately, they mostly remained within the same magnificent hall where they had first convened.
The hall's space was immense, with a ceiling soaring a hundred meters high. Even with thousands of people inside, it didn't feel crowded at all.
The well-trained servant races under Grandmentor Anton Buchanan's command provided all the basic daily necessities and meals.
For Jieming, aside from being unable to immediately conduct complex experiments that required specific large-scale equipment, his daily routine was little different from his usual secluded cultivation in his laboratory. He had simply moved his research site from his private lab to a corner of this public hall.
He remained immersed in the ocean of knowledge, holding a Knowledge Crystal in his hand, his spirit delving deep within it, deaf to the outside clamor.
It wasn't just Jieming. Almost none of the wizards present, regardless of their seniority, were of the temperament to waste time.
This rare gathering of fellow disciples had become the perfect platform for them to exchange ideas and conduct discussions.
The second-generation wizards sought out their fellow disciples, engaging in low-voiced conversations or heated debates. Their discussions invariably touched upon profound theories of the Laws, as well as the latest advancements in alchemy and rune technology.
When the mood struck, some even produced portable experimental equipment and began conducting on-the-spot verifications in the hall's open spaces. They paid no mind to the minor elemental tides or spatial distortions their experiments might trigger; the high-rank wizards present could effortlessly smooth them away with a flick of their wrists.
Even the supreme Wizard Noren frequently discussed various intellectual and technical matters with the seventh-tier disciples beside him. At times, he would even descend from his main seat and walk among the second- and even third-generation disciples, offering guidance on promising ideas or resolving complex problems. Each such interaction left the recipient utterly thrilled.
Unwittingly, the gathering had transformed into an academic symposium.
Under the catalyst of this intense atmosphere of research and exchange, the younger wizards—the third- and even fourth-generation disciples—also began to compete with one another. At first, it might have been just showcasing a newly researched wizardry model or debating the optimal solution for a specific theoretical node.
But soon, this evolved into all sorts of "friendly" competitions—from the delicate manipulation of mental power to the instantaneous construction of miniature runes, and even the adaptation and utilization of specific energy environments... The variety was truly endless.
The high-rank wizards were pleased to see this and showed no intention of stopping it. On the contrary, they would occasionally offer a few comments or secretly apply a bit of pressure to fan the flames. For them, the healthy competition among their juniors was a vital source of the school's vitality.
Over time, through these open and covert contests, a generally accepted ranking of strength emerged among the two youngest generations of wizards. Everyone knew who had the more condensed mental power, who possessed the higher level of knowledge, and who had the stronger ability to adapt.
Only two people remained beyond this ranking.
One was Viola.
She had officially advanced to the sixth tier, crossing the threshold to become a high-rank wizard. According to the unspoken rules, it was inappropriate for a high-rank wizard to step down and spar with mid- and low-tier wizards. Such an act would be beneath their status and could easily lead to an unnecessary, crushing defeat.
Although Mentor Clark constantly nagged Viola about her "insufficient strength" and the need for "more training," her innate talent was undeniable.
After years of cultivation, her power had long surpassed that of an ordinary sixth-tier wizard, pushing her toward the elite level. Naturally, no one would seek the embarrassment of challenging her.
The second was Jieming.
He simply... couldn't be bothered to compete.
One day, Viola strolled over to the corner where Jieming was seated.
Seeing him still buried in his books, she couldn't help but mutter, "Junior brother, haven't you noticed the others looking at you more and more strangely lately? They're starting to see you as either some reclusive master or... a coward who's afraid to fight. I truly admire you, being able to hold back and not stretch your muscles this whole time."
Jieming replied without looking up, his tone flat: "Such competitions are meaningless, Senior sister. True killing moves—those involving laws or even self-destructive techniques—could never be used in a setting like this. It would be unfair to the factions that focus on actual combat and slaughter."
"Similarly, for research-type wizards who specialize in large-scale curses, genetic weapons, or planar environment modification—those who can annihilate an entire race with a single move—their strengths simply cannot be showcased here."
He paused, silently adding to himself, Besides, if we're talking about actual combat, releasing the squad of Black Giant Priests from my internal space would be enough to crush everyone here of my generation, and even some of the elders. What's the point of competing for a child's game of a ranking?
Just then, Rex finished his discussion with a peer and walked over with a smile, joining their conversation.
As the three talked, the topic inevitably turned to the recent, highly publicized "Ranking Tournament."
Viola teased Rex with a smile, saying he was now widely recognized as the strongest among the third-tier wizards, his fame unrivaled.
Rex wore his usual smile, modestly stating that everyone had been too kind, and he had merely been lucky to perform reasonably well in a few events.
Then, he turned his gaze to Jieming, his eyes filled with genuine battle intent and curiosity. "Jieming, seriously, I've always wanted to have a proper spar with you. Many of your ideas and methods have made me very curious."
Without a second thought, Jieming shook his head and refused directly. "Not interested."
Exposing some of my trump cards and fighting style in front of everyone for a mere title?
In his eyes, such an act was utterly foolish and childish.
I'd rather spend that time analyzing another rune structure.
However, just as he was about to continue delving into the space fold theory in his hands...
Wizard Noren, who had been sitting in the main seat and conversing in low tones with Grandmentor Anton, suddenly raised his head. His gentle yet piercing voice instantly drowned out all the noise in the hall, reaching everyone's ears clearly:
"It seems you young ones are all quite eager. Since the atmosphere is so lively, we old fogies will add a bit of color to the occasion."
His gaze swept over the numerous young wizards below, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "This time, let's have a formal internal competition. Use whatever means you can, but keep it within reasonable limits. The ultimate winner will..."
As he spoke, a flash of light appeared in Wizard Noren's hand, revealing a small, seemingly simple doll.
The doll radiated the obscure and powerful auras of the laws of fate and life.
"...You will receive this. You probably aren't very familiar with it, but these things are called 'Substitute Death Puppets.'"
Hearing this, Jieming snapped his head up, his gaze drawn like a magnet and fixed intently on the small puppet!
A Substitute Death Puppet!
He had once personally experienced death on the "Justice" plane, and only managed to survive by chance thanks to this treasure!
It was no exaggeration to say that this was equivalent to a second life. For wizards like them, who were constantly struggling on the brink of death, its value was immeasurable!
"But then again..."
Jieming slowly put away the crystal in his hand, his eyes burning with unprecedented fighting spirit.
The serene, meditative demeanor he had shown earlier was completely gone, replaced by a sharp, determined edge. He looked like a completely different person.
"I think I've been feeling a bit bored these past few days. A little action would be good."
Viola and Rex both wore subtle expressions: "Is... that so?"
(End of the Chapter)
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