Chapter 429: Chapter 372: Reward
In the days that followed, the wizards settled into this tower palace that hosted the plane.
More accurately, they mostly stayed in the magnificent hall where they initially gathered.
The hall was extremely spacious, with a dome a hundred meters high, able to accommodate thousands without feeling crowded.
The daily basic necessities for food were provided and served by the well-trained servant races under Steward Anton Buchanan.
For Jeming, apart from being unable to conduct complex experiments requiring specific large instruments, his life rhythm was not much different from his usual seclusion in the laboratory—merely changing the research location from a private lab to a corner of this public hall.
He was still immersed in the sea of knowledge, holding a knowledge crystal, mind drawn into it, completely ignoring the outside clatter.
Not only Jeming, but most wizards present, regardless of their seniority, weren’t of a nature to waste time idly.
This rare gathering of fellow wizards turned into an excellent platform for their exchange and discussion.
The Second Generation Wizards sought out familiar brothers, engaging in low-voiced conversations or fierce debates, involving deep theoretical laws and cutting-edge alchemy and rune technology.
In moments of enthusiasm, some would directly take out portable experimental equipment and verify on the spot in the open space of the hall, causing small tides of elements or space distortion, but the High Tier Wizards present could smooth it out effortlessly.
Even the supreme Nolun Wizard frequently discussed various knowledge and technical issues with the Seventh Level disciples beside him.
Sometimes he would even get down from his position, join the Second or even Third Generation disciples, giving pointers on promising ideas or difficulties, always making those receiving the guidance excited.
Unwittingly, it turned into a scholarly conference.
And under the catalyst of this rich atmosphere of research and exchange, those young wizards from the Third or even Fourth Generation also started to get competitive.
Initially, it might just be showing off new Witchcraft Models, or debating the optimal solution to a theoretical matter.
But it soon evolved into various forms of "friendly" competitions—from the subtle control of spiritual power, to the speed of instant construction of miniature runes, and the adaptation and use of specific energy environments... the variety was endless.
The High Tier Wizards were happy to see this, with no intention of stopping it.
Instead, they would occasionally make comments or discreetly apply some pressure, pushing things along.
For them, the healthy competition among the younger generations was an important source of vitality for the school of thought.
As time passed, through these overt and covert competitions, an approximately accepted ranking formed among the youngest two generations of wizards.
Who had more refined spiritual power, who had higher knowledge level, who was more adaptable, everyone had a clear idea in their hearts.
Only two people stood apart from this ranking.
One was Viola.
She had officially advanced to the Sixth Level, stepping into the threshold of High Tier Wizards.
According to the unspoken rules, High Tier Wizards are not suitable for competing with mid and Low Tier Wizards—it would be undignified and could easily cause unnecessary domination.
Although Professor Clark lectured Viola daily about "lacking strength and needing practice," she was, after all, extraordinarily gifted.
After years of accumulation, her strength had long surpassed the average Sixth Level Wizard standard, moving toward the elite level, naturally, no one would make a fool of themselves.
The other was Jeming.
He simply didn’t bother to compete.
That day, Viola wandered to the corner where Jeming was.
Seeing him still buried in books, she couldn’t help but whisper a tease: "Junior, haven’t you noticed that lately, others are looking at you more and more strangely? They’re treating you like some recluse master or... a coward who doesn’t dare to fight. I really admire you for managing to hold back and not join in to stretch your muscles."
Jeming replied without even raising his head, in a flat tone: "These sorts of competitions are meaningless, Senior. True killer moves, involving laws and means of mutual destruction, how could they be used in such a setting? It’s unfair to those who focus on actual combat and killing factions."
"Similarly, for those proficient in large-scale curses, genetic weapons, plane environment transformation—research-focused wizards—they cannot showcase their strengths at all."
He paused, silently adding in his heart: "Moreover, if it comes to actual combat, the Black Giant Priest within my internal space could suppress all peers present, even some seniors. What use is it to vie in this childish play-acting rank?"
At this moment, Reks finished a discussion with a peer, walked over with a smile, joining in their casual chat.
During their conversation, they inevitably touched upon the recent lively "ranking matches."
Viola jokingly teased Reks, saying he was now recognized as the strongest among Third Level Wizards, stealing the limelight.
Reks maintained his usual smile, humbly insisting everyone was being generous, and he was merely lucky to perform well in a few projects.
Soon after, he turned his gaze to Jeming, with genuine battle intent and curiosity in his eyes: "Jeming, honestly, I’ve always wanted to have a real match with you. Your ideas and methods greatly intrigue me."
Jeming refused outright without a thought: "Not interested."
Expose part of his cards and combat style in front of all for a mere reputation?
In his view, it was an incredibly foolish and childish act.
"With that time, I’d rather analyze another rune structure."
However, just as he was about to delve back into the space folding theory in his hands...
The Nolun Wizard, who had been sitting high in the main seat, conversing softly with Steward Anton, suddenly lifted his head. With a gentle yet penetrating voice, he overwhelmed all the noise in the hall, clearly reaching everyone’s ears:
"It seems you young ones are quite enthusiastic. Since the atmosphere is so lively, we old folks should add some spice."
His gaze swept across the many young wizards below, a meaningful smile on his face: "This time, let’s have a formal internal competition. Use whatever skills you have, but stop before causing harm. The final winner..."
As he spoke, there was a flash of light in the Nolun Wizard’s hand, revealing a seemingly simple small doll.
The doll exuded a profound and powerful aura of destiny and the Law of Life.
"...will receive this. You may not be familiar, but these things are called ’Death Replacement Dolls.’
Upon hearing this, Jeming suddenly looked up, his gaze magnetically fixed on that small doll!
A Death Replacement Doll!
He had personally experienced death on the "Justice" plane, and only narrowly escaped thanks to this treasure!
It’s no exaggeration to say this is equivalent to a second life, its value is beyond measure for wizards like them, constantly teetering on the brink of death!
"But then again..."
Jeming slowly put away his crystal, a burning determination in his eyes like never before.
The previous demeanor of a meditative monk was gone, leaving only a sharp determination to win, completely transforming him.
"I think I’ve indeed been a bit bored these past few days, a bit of activity might be good."
Viola and Reks both wore subtly nuanced expressions: "Is... that so?"
