**Chapter 59: High-Ranking Wizards**
“Not bad. He’s a clever one. Saves us a lot of trouble.”
In a secluded chamber at Noren Academy, a group of wizards gathered as usual, the light screen above displaying Jie Ming’s actions in the Limestone Realm.
Oswald’s figure slowly materialized. Though he had left the Limestone Realm, he seemed able to observe the plane’s events directly.
Seeing the old knight commander shakily pick up the sealed orb, he nodded with satisfaction. “If he lacked sense, we’d have to clear them out and pull new creatures from another plane.”
A slightly balding figure nodded to Oswald, then returned his gaze to the light screen.
Oswald waved it off nonchalantly. “No big deal. These guys were no challenge at all—just a warm-up.”
Clark nodded slightly, saying nothing more, and refocused on the screen.
When they saw Jie Ming hovering above the native army, relentlessly unleashing fireballs, even Clark’s eyes betrayed a hint of admiration.
Oswald, watching alongside, had been focused on Augusta and Horn initially. Seeing Jie Ming’s journey now, he couldn’t help but marvel. “This kid’s got some serious power. No wonder you contacted me to draw him to the battlefield. He’s got no real interest in exploration.”
“But those fireballs—such firepower! The casting speed and duration… he’s probably close to an apprentice who’s independently constructed a fireball spell model, right?”
Oswald glanced at a wizard in the room, one of the rare few who had independently constructed an offensive spell model as an apprentice.
The wizard shook his head. “Close. The attributes differ, so the destructive effects vary, but I could match his firepower at the apprentice stage.”
“His sustained output is a bit short, but his burst is stronger than mine was. Overall, he’s on a similar level. But…”
Watching Jie Ming single-handedly wipe out an army, the wizard sighed. “Beyond his fireball technique, his flight and shield techniques are impressive too—something I couldn’t match as an apprentice.”
Oswald smacked his lips, a touch of envy in his tone. “Tch, tch, tch… I’m jealous of geniuses like him. If I’m not mistaken, he’s only constructed Alchemy Technique and Analysis Technique, right?”
“From the energy fluctuations… yes,” the wizard confirmed, glancing at Clark.
Clark nodded openly. “His shields, flight, and fireballs all rely on artifacts.”
“Obviously, he showed his hand at the end,” Oswald said, sidling up to Clark with a fawning grin, rubbing his hands like a fly. “Can you make those artifacts? I’ll pay ten times the price!”
“No,” Clark replied, giving him a sidelong glance.
“Impossible… really?”
“So, it’s the kid’s own tech?” Oswald sighed dramatically. “Great, now I can’t get custom gear anytime soon!”
Wizards specializing in Alchemy Technique were adept at crafting artifacts, but certain unspoken rules applied.
Standard artifacts were fair game—commission whatever type you needed from a wizard of the appropriate level.
But unique artifacts with proprietary techniques were trickier.
Per the unspoken rules, such wizards typically only sold “products” that posed no threat to themselves—meaning artifacts one level below their own.
As a fifth-level wizard, Oswald would need at least fourth-level artifacts, meaning he’d have to wait until Jie Ming reached fifth level to commission them.
“That’s way too long! I’m heading back to the battlefield in a hundred years!” Oswald whined, almost throwing a tantrum, devoid of a high-ranking wizard’s dignity.
Clark gave him a cold look. “You don’t have to go.”
“Heh, no way.” Oswald stopped his antics, grinning as he stood upright. “My resources for advancing to sixth level depend on this next tour of duty.”
In wizard civilization, an interesting phenomenon existed: wizard apprentices dreaded military service and war, while higher-level formal wizards eagerly anticipated plane battlefields.
The gap in perspective was so vast that the Star Orbit Tribunal had to mandate that high-ranking wizards periodically return to guide descendants or manage mortal domains.
For wizards above third level, joining plane wars had become a reward, requiring extra military merits or contribution points to secure a frontline spot.
Clark ignored the unserious Oswald and turned to another wizard. “You’re in charge of contact with the Limestone Realm. Have them rebuild their population quickly. If necessary, provide resources as support.”
“You plan to make this trial a regular part of the academy?” the other wizard asked, catching Clark’s intent.
Clark nodded slightly. “The quality of apprentices has been declining in recent years. This trial shows that merely teaching theoretical knowledge is pointless. Only practice leaves a deep enough impression.”
“Haha, with the frontline increasingly short on manpower, even restrictions on high-ranking wizards heading to battle have loosened. We can’t train apprentices with high mortality rates like before,” Oswald chimed in, then frowned. “Annual cross-plane trials are good, but they’ll cost a fortune in resources.”
Though apprentices seemed to cross planes effortlessly, each transit consumed vast amounts of materials and energy.
“This trial alone used enough resources to fund two sixth-level wizard projects.”
“The cost is high, but the results are worth it. Leave the resource and energy issues to the dean,” Clark said.
“Hahaha! The dean’s gonna lose it when he returns!” Oswald laughed.
“Enough. Next issue: it’s time to distribute the aptitude enhancement potions…”