After a moment’s thought, Jie Ming made his decision.
“Mentor, I’ve decided,” his voice was firm and clear. “I choose a demon plane.”
Mentor Clark nodded silently, unsurprised by the choice.
“A fine choice. I’ll immediately contact the overseer of the Elosia plane to handle the procedures. The plane’s coordinates and details will be sent later. Remember, whichever plane you choose, you must explore and master it yourself. That’s the true path of a wizard.”
“Yes, Mentor.” Jie Ming’s eyes gleamed with excitement.
Then, recalling Amy and Victor’s news, he asked, “Mentor, is this overseer you mentioned the future dean of the Elosia plane?”
“So you’ve heard,” Clark nodded calmly. “Yes, it’s a newly promoted seventh-level wizard, recently withdrawn from the battlefield with a mandatory hundred-year rotation period. They’re essentially confirmed as the future overseer of the Elosia plane.”
Jie Ming raised another question. “Then… after the rotation ends, what do we do next? Head to the Star Ring Federation?”
He clearly remembered that Noren Workshop’s trial was supposedly tied to some major move by the Star Ring Federation.
“No need to rush,” Clark said. “With the Federation’s tendency to plan centuries ahead, they likely released that news early. You won’t be needed anytime soon.”
“The workshop’s plan to establish a new Noren Academy in Elosia is probably just making use of you all.”
Jie Ming’s expression turned wry. “We’re not exactly useless, are we?”
“You get the idea,” Clark said.
He studied Jie Ming through the communication screen, a smile in his eyes. “Even if there were a need, you lack the strength to participate. Instead of worrying about that, focus on improving your power.”
Jie Ming scratched his head, knowing Clark spoke the truth.
Given the Star Ring Federation’s scale, a first-level novice wizard like him had no place in their plans.
Clark, unconcerned, had been through this phase himself.
Young, ambitious wizards always thought themselves unmatched, eager to make their mark.
Compared to some trial graduates already growing arrogant, Jie Ming’s quiet dedication to research made him the “model student.”
“Besides, per the workshop’s decision, even after the rotation period, you won’t need to rush to the front lines.”
“Huh?” Jie Ming blinked. “What about the contract?”
“The workshop’s contracts aren’t that strict,” Clark said casually. “Your participation in the Elosia plane war offsets part of your service obligation.”
“Per the workshop’s rules, wizards who complete a war get a rest period of six months to five years. After this six months, you can choose another half to five years of rest.”
“It works like that?” Jie Ming was stunned.
Clark’s lips curved. “The workshop trains you to become stronger wizards. The service obligation is just pressure to push you forward. As long as you apply your knowledge and aren’t some fool lost in pointless research, that’s enough. And…”
“And a low-level wizard like you isn’t even worth exploiting.”
Jie Ming was speechless. Harsh, but true.
Aside from combat-focused brutes, proper wizards excelled at crafting products, and high-level wizards were walking production lines.
With wizard civilization in a rapid expansion phase, resources poured in endlessly.
In terms of output, thousands of low-level wizards couldn’t match a single high-level one.
After Clark ended the call, Jie Ming pushed aside these messy thoughts.
The new academy was still a distant prospect, and claiming his chosen plane would take time.
“For now… back to research.”
A bronze mirror, shimmering with faint rainbow light, floated silently before Jie Ming.
Its ancient design contrasted with its misty, chaotic surface, reflecting images with a hazy, indistinct quality.
This was his natal treasure, the Five Aggregates Rainbow Mirror.
After years of refinement, its intricate patterns and decorations had grown more complex, a sign of its increasing power.
“The Elosia plane is a fine place. The ‘Five Lights’ are nearly complete, and the first ‘re-forging’ is close,” Jie Ming mused.
Per the Great Dao Book Pavilion, treasures were divided into two types. The first had fixed forms, relatively simple to craft with less demanding materials by cultivation standards.
Their drawback was limited growth potential, with any improvements being slow and rare.
The second, like the Five Aggregates Rainbow Mirror, lacked a fixed form, making material acquisition and crafting difficult.
Its advantage was near-limitless potential for growth with continuous material infusion and refinement.
However, each re-forging required exponentially more and higher-quality materials, making advancement challenging.
For Jie Ming, it was just a matter of time.
“But now, I can try a different refinement method.”
His expression grew serious.
He extended a finger, drawing a faint wisp of mist from his internal space, gently brushing it across the mirror’s surface.
Mortal qi—the condensed essence of countless beings’ joys, sorrows, loves, and grudges—carried the rawest essence of the mortal world, perfect for tempering a treasure’s spirituality.
Using a long-practiced qi control technique, Jie Ming meticulously infused the purest, gentlest portion into the mirror.
At first, the mirror’s surface deepened into chaos, as if coated in invisible sludge.
This chaos wasn’t a flaw but the treasure’s inherent “ignorance” of the mortal world at its creation.
Mortal qi, with its profound worldly essence, was meant to “refine” this ignorance, allowing the treasure to truly comprehend and reflect the mortal realm.
As the mortal qi continued to permeate, the chaotic haze began to dissipate, slowly but steadily.
The mist cleared, the mirror growing clearer, its reflected light purer.
This transformation was gradual, requiring Jie Ming’s patient control.
He could feel the treasure’s faint spirituality awakening as it absorbed the mortal qi.
It was no longer just a tool but a nascent life, beginning to understand what it reflected.
When the wisp of mortal qi was fully absorbed, the Five Aggregates Rainbow Mirror was reborn.
Its surface was as clear as water, vividly reflecting Jie Ming’s slightly weary but elated face.
Its rainbow light grew subtler, deeper, as if it could encompass all worldly phenomena.
The obscure runes on its frame became livelier, almost breathing.
More crucially, Jie Ming sensed its spirituality had strengthened.
Linked deeply to the treasure, he felt his own consciousness grow clearer.
“Remarkable effect,” he praised softly, retracting the treasure.
But then, his brow furrowed.
The treasure’s feedback revealed a faint “fatigue.”
This refinement was an aggressive boost to its spirituality. Repeated too soon, it risked damaging or even shattering that spirituality.
“The principle of extremes reversing applies even in the cultivator’s path,” Jie Ming mused, storing the mirror to let it recover slowly.
After a brief rest, he prepared for a second, bolder attempt—infusing a wisp of mortal qi directly into his soul.
Sitting cross-legged, he focused his mental strength inward, guiding the vast mortal qi within his internal space.
This time, he extracted an even fainter wisp, as thin as a hair, and cautiously directed it to his soul’s depths.
The moment it touched his soul, his mental world erupted like a bomb!
Not pain or impact, but an all-encompassing experience!
His consciousness was torn apart, then reassembled.
He was no longer Jie Ming but one of countless mortals.
He became a poor farmer, toiling under the blazing sun, sweat soaking his clothes, all for a bowl of hot soup for his family.
The longing for a bountiful harvest and fear of natural disasters surged as a warm current in his heart.
He was a young lover, confessing under moonlight, hearts entwined, the pure sweetness of first love making his heart tremble.
He became a soldier on a battlefield, amidst flashing blades and flying blood, comrades’ screams and enemies’ sneers echoing.
The despair of impending death, yearning for home, and a final surge of survival instinct left him gasping, nearly suffocating.
He (as in Jie Ming) was a mother who lost her child, wailing in a cold, rainy night, her heart-wrenching grief and helplessness bringing uncontrollable tears to his eyes.
He became a noble in the capital, mingling at lavish banquets, fake smiles hiding endless scheming and greed, the insatiable hunger for power and pleasure coupled with a soul-deep emptiness pressing down on him.
Scenes of countless lives—joy, sorrow, greed, obsession, love, and hatred—played out in his soul with visceral reality.
He wasn’t an observer but a participant, feeling every emotion, every sensation, as if they were his own.
The collective experiences of hundreds of thousands of mortals, a torrent of raw emotions, surged like a volcanic eruption, battering his soul.
His mental strength was nearly drained instantly, his body trembling uncontrollably.
Sweat soaked his robes, his face pale as paper.
Clenching his teeth, Jie Ming clung to the last shred of clarity in his soul, barely avoiding being lost in the endless mortal illusion.
After an eternity, when the wisp of mortal qi fully merged into his soul as a faint red glow, he broke free from the harrowing experience.
Gasping heavily, his chest heaved as if he’d just walked through the gates of death.
He opened his eyes, his gaze a mix of confusion and relief.
It took minutes for his consciousness to fully return.
Jie Ming exhaled deeply, collapsing to the ground, his expression betraying unmasked exhaustion.
This wasn’t physical fatigue but a weakness from his soul and mind being pushed to their limits.
Yet, after the exhaustion came an indescribable clarity and elevation.
His thoughts seemed to flow faster, his perception of surrounding elements sharper.
It was as if his once-murky soul had been cleansed by the mortal qi, becoming crystal clear.
If the daily absorption of “eastern purple qi” enhanced his soul’s aptitude, the mortal qi refined the “purity” of his mental strength!
It stripped away impurities, stagnation, and redundancies in his soul.
This heightened purity elevated his control over his mental strength to a new realm.
In wizard terms, Jie Ming sensed a reduced threshold for activating elements.
Casting sorcery now required less mental effort, as if the elements were more responsive to his will.
Even in planes with lower elemental activity, he’d be less affected.
His precision in manipulating mental strength also soared, enabling finer, more intricate energy control.
This mastery directly boosted his Alchemy Technique, turning theoretical or trial-heavy operations into effortless successes with higher rates.
Like refining the treasure, however, this couldn’t be repeated too soon.
He sensed the faint red glow in his soul was saturated, needing time to settle and digest.
Forcing another infusion risked irreversible soul damage.
“Refining the heart in mortal dust… no wonder the Great Dao Book Pavilion recommends it,” Jie Ming said, his eyes gleaming with the joy of discovery.