Exploring new planes, however, was far riskier.
A unique-rule plane could wipe out a vanguard without a chance to send a message.
While such extreme cases were rare, initial contact with most planes incurred significant losses.
Watching the young, excited, or anxious faces enter the teleportation array, their figures vanishing in a flash, Jie Ming felt a pang of emotion.
Over a decade, the academy was a crucible, forging talents and sending them to broader, harsher worlds.
After the farewell, the plaza fell briefly silent.
Then, the opposite teleportation array lit up.
Returning wizards stepped out from the frontline.
Their robes were worn, battle-scarred, slightly disheveled.
Yet, they were like honed blades, bold and dangerous.
Senior academy wizards stood solemnly at the array, welcoming them.
Honed by battle, these returnees were the academy’s backbone.
Amy and Victor whispered about their strength and experiences, eyes filled with awe.
Jie Ming stayed silent, sensing their power fluctuations.
Most were third-rank formal wizards, some fourth-rank, far surpassing the returnees he’d seen upon enrolling.
“The Shadow Plane’s rewards must be huge, producing so many third-rank-plus wizards in such a short time. No wonder the academy’s investing so heavily,” Jie Ming mused.
At the crowd’s rear was an unremarkable figure in a plain wizard robe, devoid of ornate decorations.
No visible scars or aggressive aura, just standing quietly like an ordinary stone.
Yet, in Jie Ming’s perception, this person had no detectable energy fluctuations!
It was as if they were a void, separate from the world!
Jie Ming recognized this sensation from his mentors—a presence fully merged with rules, part of the rules themselves.
This signified absolute superiority in realm, a vast gap in life essence!
He took a deep breath, barely containing his shock.
A fifth-rank wizard?!
Even in the talent-rich wizard civilization, fifth-rank wizards were key assault forces.
If third- and fourth-rank wizards were elites, fifth-rank wizards held significant authority.
In Noren Academy, aside from Clark, a sixth-rank wizard, all other mentors were fifth-rank.
Crucially, the badge on this wizard indicated they were among the returning seniors.
To rise from first-rank to fifth-rank in just five years…
“Holy crap, that’s cheating…” Jie Ming muttered inwardly.
Even with his own advantages, he wouldn’t dare progress that fast.
Just then, the fifth-rank wizard turned, their gaze locking onto Jie Ming, its weight making his hair stand on end.
“You okay?” Amy noticed his odd mood and turned to ask.
“Nothing, just tired,” Jie Ming said, relieved as the wizard looked away, brushing it off with an excuse.
Amy and Victor exchanged odd glances but said nothing.
Jie Ming stopped focusing on the fifth-rank wizard, his interest in the ceremony fading after the encounter.
Looking up at the sky, his gaze drifted.
Now he understood why Clark’s tone had been strange when mentioning the third solution.
Back in his lab, Jie Ming sat cross-legged, his mind entering introspection.
The newly completed Five Aggregates Rainbow Mirror floated quietly in his dantian’s qi sea, no longer a phantom in the spiritual sea but a tangible, warm, semi-transparent object with flowing, multicolored conceptual lights.
Crafting was only the first step; a long nurturing phase followed.
Each day, Jie Ming allocated refined true essence and divine sense, like a meticulous craftsman, nurturing the Mirror repeatedly.
True essence washed over the mirror like warm springs, while divine sense delved inside, carefully weaving the five light concepts’ threads, striving for tighter integration and unity.
It was a slow, delicate process, requiring patience.
Despite his dog-tired state over the past half-month, Jie Ming never neglected nurturing the treasure.
He could feel the Mirror’s light softening with daily nurturing, the conflicts between concepts subsiding, replaced by a wondrous resonance and fusion.
The treasure seemed alive, growing slowly under his care, awaiting its transformation.
“Phew… I’ve been grinding for half a month. Cultivation requires balance. Time to rest.”
Overly fatigued, Jie Ming noticed a slight disharmony in his spirit, energy, and vitality.
Instead of rushing to cultivate or research, he slowed down—a rare break.
He skipped the new apprentices’ enrollment ceremony, staying in his lab to clear his mind, even taking a rare nap.
Occasionally, he checked his point balance on the Magic Network terminal, sitting by the window, watching the bustling new apprentices below.
After some time of slacking, Jie Ming suddenly opened his eyes on his recliner.
Staring at the lab’s ceiling, he eventually rose, curiously examining his palm.
In that moment, he felt clear-headed, his body invigorated, an indescribable ease coursing through him.
It wasn’t a cultivation breakthrough, just his spirit, energy, and vitality realigning, and his treasure reaching the first stage of formation.
“Looks like the vacation’s over.”