In the black hall, various runes and flowing lights adorned the deep blue dome like countless stars, creating a vast and boundless feeling.
Beneath the dome, seven figures sat on enormous metal chairs engraved with different rune marks, representing the meeting of the seven Ring Masters of the Silver Ring.
"This recent chaos caused by the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society has severely weakened the Black Mire and Molten Lake, and the Thorn Palace may be completely removed from the South. Our foundation in the South is not deep, which now seems to be an advantage."
A middle-aged man with a handsome appearance and a brass pocket watch embedded in his right eye socket spoke with a hint of lament.
"In the Central region, I had heard of the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society, rumored to have orchestrated the downfall of a certain Central wizard empire. That battle involved several wizard empires, with dozens of large wizard organizations participating, and even six-level wizards fell. I read about this battle in an ancient book, once dismissing it as an old yarn, never imagining I would one day truly encounter this evil organization."
Among the seven, the man at the foremost position, wearing a magnificent golden robe and shrouded in a faint crystal glow that obscured his features, spoke softly: "How is the internal investigation of the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society going?"
"The first round of investigation is complete. All members have re-signed soul contracts. Excluding those confirmed to have defected from the Ring and the 156 members who are missing for unknown reasons, no other suspicious individuals have been found for now."
Someone responded, the voice deep and the speaker's appearance heroic; it was Caroni, the Third Ring Master.
The man in the golden robe said calmly, "Issue a task to all Ring members to hunt down the defectors. The investigations in the other five major forces are ongoing, and their lists of defectors should be sent over soon, to be included in the hunt list."
Caroni and the others nodded.
At this moment, a Ring Master couldn't help but ask, "The resurgence of the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society and the involvement of the lost World Stone... shouldn't this be reported to the headquarters?"
"It only involves several medium-sized wizard forces and a few level four wizards. Even if reported to the headquarters, it won't attract much attention. As for the lost World Stone, it's already shattered. Restoring it would require at least a hundred years, even with an entire large force's resources."
The man in the golden robe paused, then turned his gentle crystal-like gaze to a figure in the corner among the seven, his eyes growing even softer.
"Kirstie."
He softly called her name.
Kirstie, with her waterfall-like long hair and stunning beauty, slowly raised her head, her presence momentarily brightening the dim hall.
"Have you found the member under you who holds the coordinates?"
Kirstie shook her head without speaking.
"Perhaps they have been turned by the Resurrection Society or captured."
Someone said solemnly, "This is a seed of unease. I suggested destroying the coordinates back then. Let's add this person's name to the priority hunt list."
Kirstie looked at the speaker, frowning slightly.
Caroni and Archido, sitting in the hall, also showed changes in their expressions.
The golden-robed man pondered for a moment, about to speak when Kirstie's voice preemptively echoed in the hall.
"No need."
Everyone turned their eyes to Kirstie.
Her previously expressionless face now showed a hint of brilliance as she looked at a communication stone in her hand, speaking softly: "He has returned on his own."
The giant white albatross broke through layers of clouds, flapping its wings as it gently landed on the top of the silver-white tower.
Kirstie dismounted from the albatross, waved her hand casually, and the giant albatross dispersed with a "boom," turning into countless bright points of light that scattered in the air.
Kirstie waved her wand lightly, a faint energy ripple emanating, and the metal dome of the silver-white tower melted like water, revealing a square entrance.
Descending through the entrance, Kirstie landed in a massive room piled with countless books, where a colorful feathered Borbi flapped its wings towards her.
Kirstie casually brushed Borbi aside and walked step by step towards the room's exit.
Soon, she stopped near the spiral staircase exit, her gaze falling on a tall figure standing before a large floor-to-ceiling crystal window.
"Ronan."
Kirstie's eyes flickered as she called out a name.
The figure, back to her, slowly turned upon hearing.
Beneath a magnificent silver-gray robe, a young face of such beauty it bordered on the eerie was revealed.
The youth appeared somewhat weak, his face incredibly pale, the usual vigor and spirit between his brows replaced by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.
"Ring Master..."
The youth smiled, nodding towards Kirstie in greeting.
Kirstie spoke in a voice filled with a mix of relief and worry, "You're finally back."
"@#￥%!/./..."
Ronan softly chanted a complex incantation, and upon finishing, raised his hand, drawing a complex and mysterious pattern in the air with his fingers.
The pattern solidified in the void, rapidly turning scarlet as if burned by fire, then vanished.
Kirstie, who had watched the entire process intently, released the last bit of worry from her beautiful blue-purple eyes and seemed to relax completely, exhaling lightly. She then explained proactively to Ronan, "It's not that we don't trust you... after the incident with the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society, everyone needs to re-sign the contract, myself included."
"I understand."
Ronan nodded, habitually reaching to rub his brow, seeming drained by even the simple contract signing process.
Kirstie noticed Ronan's condition, reaching to touch his forehead.
Ronan didn't resist, allowing Kirstie's hand to lightly press against his brow, a faint fragrance accompanying the mental light emanating from her fingertips.
After a moment, Kirstie withdrew her hand, her delicate brows furrowing tightly.
"Ronan, you're in terrible shape. What happened to you this past month?"
Ronan remained silent, not speaking.
Kirstie looked at him with a complex gaze, sighing softly, shaking her head to drop the topic.
"Never mind, you have your secrets, and I have no right to inquire."
"Can you tell me what happened this past month?"
After a moment of silence, Ronan looked at Kirstie and asked.
Kirstie nodded, then began recounting the aftermath of the Goblin Plains battle.
She spoke quickly and in detail, taking quite some time to cover all the points Ronan might be interested in.
"...Derby, during his years in the Seventh Ring, I personally guided him more than once, yet I didn't know he had secretly joined the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society."
Kirstie's account concluded with the betrayal of the Ring by the wizard Derby.
Ronan saw a look of guilt and self-blame appear in Kirstie's eyes. This woman, though older than Ronan, had a heart as pure as a maiden unacquainted with the world, even partly blaming herself for Derby's betrayal.
Ronan didn't know how to comment, still reflecting on what Kirstie had just shared.
Compared to the other five major wizard forces, the Silver Ring was probably least affected by the Ancient Witch Resurrection Society; at least none of the seven Ring Masters were "traitors." In contrast, Molten Lake and Thorn Palace even had dawn-level wizards defect.
However, the lower-level Ring members had been infiltrated quite seriously, with suspected Resurrection Society members numbering over a hundred, including Nono Pelin, who had interacted with Ronan. This individual left the Ring the day after the Goblin Plains competition began and had not returned, already listed among the six "hunted" rebels.
Kirstie candidly stated that if Ronan hadn't returned in time, he might have been labeled a "Ring traitor."
Even though he had re-signed the soul contract, proving his "loyalty," his suspicion wasn't entirely cleared, given the Resurrection Society's interest in the World Stone coordinates he possessed.
Ronan considered mentioning the "Dark Leader" of the Resurrection Society, a powerful pinnacle third-level figure, to "prove his innocence."
But then he thought better of it.
Those who trusted him, like Kirstie, would choose to believe him regardless of his actions, while those who doubted him would remain skeptical no matter how he tried to prove himself.
Put himself in the high-levels' shoes, it was perfectly normal to question a member holding coordinates, disappearing without reason for a month, amidst a situation where even a dawn-level wizard leader could be a "Resurrection Society mole."
In contrast, Kirstie's "emotional" handling seemed rather "naive."
"...The decision after joint discussion among several Ring Masters is to extract and destroy the coordinates you hold."
Kirstie asked Ronan in a negotiating tone, to which he showed no resistance.
"Okay."
After a brief consideration, he nodded.
Kirstie exhaled lightly, telling him, "The coordinate extraction process might be painful, so try to bear it."
With that, Kirstie retrieved a bottle of unknown black potion from her space ring, asking Ronan to extend his hand, then applying it evenly on the back of his hand.
Ronan observed the black liquid on his hand, feeling it slick like melting asphalt.
On closer inspection, he found the black liquid composed of countless tiny insects, which burrowed desperately into his skin upon contact.
As all the black liquid absorbed, Ronan soon felt a burning pain like a red-hot iron scorching his hand, a pain that seemed to penetrate his soul, causing him to frown slightly.
The burning sensation intensified, followed by an arrow-like mark slowly appearing on the back of his hand.
Beside him, Kirstie chanted a low incantation, and the black liquid re-emerged, flowing like a living thing into an empty crystal vial she had prepared.
Along with the black liquid flowed the arrow mark on Ronan's hand; this was the extraction process.
"It's done."
With the last drop of black liquid sealed in the crystal bottle, Kirstie secured the cap tightly.
Ronan, however, thoughtfully stared at his now unmarked right hand.
He could sense that although the coordinate mark seemed removed, a thin layer still remained within him, seemingly not entirely purged.
"This coordinate will be destroyed in the presence of all dawn-level wizards of the six major forces."
Kirstie shook the crystal bottle gently, telling Ronan, "Once the news spreads, it should divert most of the Resurrection Society's attention from you. However, they also lost two dawn-level wizards this time, so they likely lack the strength to act again soon."
Ronan nodded, standing beside Kirstie at the large floor-to-ceiling crystal window, as Borbi, in its parrot form, fluttered over, perching lightly on his shoulder.
After the coordinate extraction, Kirstie visibly relaxed, and neither spoke, merely gazing at the distant clouds and towers.
Time flowed silently like water.
At some point, Ronan suddenly withdrew his gaze, turning to look at Kirstie's perfect profile.
"Ring Master Kirstie, do you know about the Southern Wizard Genius Gathering and the Prodigy Seat of Helamsk?"
Kirstie's eyes flickered slightly, but before she could speak, Borbi on Ronan's shoulder began singing loudly.
"Helamsk... Helamsk
The born master of law.
His legend, a hundred sunsets cannot fully tell."
Borbi flew up from Ronan's shoulder, circling in the air, singing, even mimicking a harp with its tongue, like a true bard.
"You're too noisy, Borbi..."
Kirstie reprimanded softly, and Borbi obediently closed its beak.
Kirstie then looked at Ronan with a slightly peculiar expression, asking, "Who told you about this?"
"An... opponent."
Ronan thought for a moment, choosing "opponent" to describe Anglair.
Anglair, possessing the strength to severely wound Jupiter, had refrained from attacking him multiple times.
Ronan felt he might not truly be his "enemy."
Though Anglair joined the Resurrection Society, given his two "defections," Ronan wouldn't find it surprising if he appeared on their opposing side again.
Anglair seemed to value nothing, treating everything as a "game," elusive and unpredictable like smoke.
"Helamsk..."
Kirstie murmured the name, pondering before speaking, "Do you remember the tickets and seats I mentioned to you earlier?"
Ronan nodded, "Is that what you meant?"
"Yes."
Kirstie squinted into the distant sunset, saying slowly, "You should know about the divisions of the Upper, Middle, and Lower Ring Continents. We are in the extreme south of the Upper Ring Continent. Helamsk is recognized by all as the greatest and most gifted legendary wizard in the history of the Upper Ring Continent. Without equal."
"Even Shbiart can't compare?"
Ronan was surprised, unable to resist asking.
Kirstie shook her head, saying, "Shbiart is different from Helamsk. Legendary wizard Shbiart's traces are found across all three rings, with no records confirming his origin in any of them. Helamsk's life, however, is traceable. He was reportedly born into a minor noble family in a secular kingdom in the central Upper Ring Continent and, during a kingdom upheaval, was forced to migrate with his family. Along the way, he killed a formal wizard with his knightly skills, gaining entry into the wizarding world."
"Using knightly skills to kill a formal wizard?"
Ronan was incredulous.
While he could understand a knight defeating a wizard apprentice, a formal first-level wizard had transcended the mundane, able to crush top knights with a mere finger.
How did he bridge such a vast gap?
Did Helamsk train in a transcendent body-tempering method like [Ascetic Body Tempering] in the mundane?
"Yes."
Facing Ronan's shock, Kirstie's tone was firm, continuing, "Helamsk had already transcended the mundane in his knightly pursuits. But his true talent emerged after becoming a wizard. Helamsk reached the pinnacle of dawn in under a hundred years, a record still unbroken."
"A hundred years to a six-level wizard..."
Ronan murmured.
To become a second-level wizard with a soul age under a hundred was to be called a genius in a top Southern wizard force like the Silver Ring.
Yet compared to Helamsk, what was that? Mediocrity, rubbish?
"...As Borbi sang, Helamsk was known as the born master of law. He once commanded meteors, single-handedly destroying a vast empire of wizards. His legends are countless, a true pinnacle figure of the Upper Ring Continent. Later, he pursued dusk, entering the Middle Ring Continent, contending with ancient noble bloodlines, leaving many legends."
"What happened then?"
Ronan pressed Kirstie, holding back the turmoil within.
Kirstie calmly answered, "He died."
"Uh..."
"Helamsk perished on a lower continent, the cause of death unclear."
Kirstie said, "Before his soul completely vanished, he returned once, leaving his legacy across the Upper Ring Continent—Helamsk's Prodigy Seats! Each legacy represents 32 seats, opening every hundred years, inviting only genius wizards with a soul age under a hundred, granting entry tickets to compete for seats. Securing the chief seat might grant a more crucial part of Helamsk's legacy. Collecting all key legacies supposedly bestows Helamsk's immensely powerful law-mastering bloodline!"
"This is an open treasure trove. The competition for Helamsk's Prodigy Seats has continued for nearly a millennium on the Upper Ring Continent, yet no one has fully assembled the legacy."
Kirstie turned to Ronan, pausing before saying, "The official start of the Southern Prodigy Seat competition is three years from now."
"Whoosh—"
Ronan exhaled deeply, his eyes shining with a strange light.
In that moment, the fatigue clouding his brow seemed to dissipate.
"I understand."
Ronan spoke softly.
Kirstie's gaze was slightly complex as she said quietly, "When I mentioned this before, it was partly to motivate you. But in truth, this Prodigy Seat competition will be very challenging for you. So far, no second-level wizard has received an invitation to the competition. To be invited, you must advance to the third level within three years. Even if you achieve that, the competition for tickets alone will be fierce, with top wizard prodigies from the three large Southern wizard forces and dozens of medium forces competing."
"Three large wizard forces?"
It was Ronan's first time hearing this term, causing him to blink.
"Yes."
Kirstie explained, "The wizarding world has a classification system for wizard forces: micro, small, medium, large, and super large. Our Silver Ring is considered an ordinary medium-sized force. Among the six major forces, only the Thunder Council and Crimson Tower qualify as top-tier medium forces, not reaching large status."
Kirstie aimed to make Ronan feel the intense competition, even using Orion as an example.
"...Orion is the most outstanding genius of this Silver Ring generation, yet in the competition, he might only be average. The number of equally brilliant or even more monstrous prodigies will exceed your expectations."
Ronan listened quietly, feeling his blood heat up, his heart racing.
Different spell domains, different spell schools, different spell philosophies, showcased by the most talented individuals from various forces, clashing and competing.
Even setting aside the allure of Helamsk's legacy, the event itself held immense appeal for him.
"What a splendid spectacle that would be?"
Ronan murmured softly, reaching out, fingers curling as if trying to grasp something.
"Ronan."
Kirstie suddenly spoke, pulling him from his reverie.
Ronan turned, his expression calm.
He saw Kirstie holding a communication stone, appearing to have awaited a response throughout their conversation.
"The Ring Masters have decided..."
Kirstie looked at him, choosing her words carefully, "Given your outstanding performance at the Goblin Plains competition, the dangers faced due to the World Stone coordinates, and the risks you might bear, they are offering you some rewards and compensation."
Compensation?
Ronan's eyes flickered, instinctively asking, "What compensation?"
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