Ronan waited for a long time. Wizards from the three major schools gradually left with their chosen disciples. Finally, an aloof old man with a sharp nose emerged from the Deep Sea faction and gestured for him to follow. Ronan complied.
The old man led Ronan down to the Spirit Lake. With his unusually long fingernail, he gently traced the surface of the lake, causing the water to part and reveal an oval-shaped hole tall enough for a person to pass through.
The old man slipped inside in a flash. Ronan paused at the entrance and glanced back.
He saw the light above the Spirit Lake dimming as three gray-robed figures approached Juventus. Shortly after stepping into the Spirit Lake with the old man, Ronan found himself facing a set of black stairs that led upward.
As he ascended the stairs, he noticed the translucent crystal walls surrounding him. Beyond the walls was water, casting a hazy glow, and some fish-like creatures swam about.
Ronan felt as though he were traversing a mysterious underwater tunnel.
"Does this mean I've been accepted?" Ronan wondered, staring at the old man's back. His hunched posture suggested he was carrying something beneath his Wizard Robe, and a few crystalline tubes protruded from the back of his neck, pulsating with each step the old man took.
Suddenly, the old man stopped and slowly turned around on the stairs.
It was then that Ronan noticed one of the old man's eyes was artificial, a soft, spherical plant root embedded in the socket.
"You're lucky," the old man said, his voice like the grinding of brass gears. "No one wanted you, and I happen to need an assistant for my potion studies."
Ronan's eyes flickered. The old man turned back and continued walking as he spoke.
"My name is Heliodor. You may address me directly. Don't expect me to waste resources on improving your soul aptitude. Every wizard must forge their own path. Whether you advance or not depends entirely on your own abilities. Of course, if your performance in your work satisfies me, I'll provide appropriate rewards or compensation. You seem to have a decent mind—use it wisely."
The old man's voice echoed through the narrow crystal tunnel, rambling and verbose. Combined with his appearance, he truly resembled an ancient, toothless beaver.
Ronan remained silent, listening quietly.
This Spirit Lake wizard named Heliodor was likely a fifth-level wizard. The wizards from the three major schools who had been selecting disciples earlier were almost all fifth-level, numbering over fifty. This was a testament to the strength and depth of the Spirit Lake as a super-sized wizard faction.
To serve as an assistant to a fifth-level wizard—while it wasn't exactly what Ronan had expected, it was still a decent outcome.
Before he knew it, the stairs came to an end, and Ronan found himself in a relatively spacious room.
The room was also made of crystal, with walls and ceiling forming a massive inverted bowl shape.
The room was cluttered with various items, and an old-fashioned brass clock hung on the wall, ticking away.
As Ronan surveyed the room's furnishings, he suddenly felt as though he had been plunged into a transparent vat filled with glue.
The air around him twisted rapidly, becoming so viscous that he could barely lift his eyelids. The flow of time seemed to slow infinitely, and waves of intense suffocation, as if tons of seawater had suddenly pressed down on him, assaulted Ronan's consciousness.
A hand, curved and sharp like an eagle's talon, loomed larger in Ronan's pupils. His mental power field had barely extended an inch beyond his skin before it was ruthlessly extinguished.
Ronan watched helplessly as the hand came straight for his face. His mind raced, and he could only shout inwardly, "Alazan!"
Within his consciousness space, the golden ladybug seemed to recognize the severity of the moment. It quickly took flight and, with a "bang," exploded into a hazy golden mist, concealing the five Mental Power Crystals within Ronan's consciousness space.
Then it swiftly descended, dispersing with a "hum," enveloping some secrets that must not be revealed to outsiders.
After Alazan's actions, a torrent of mental power surged into Ronan's body, coursing through him at an astonishing speed. It paused briefly at his heart before retreating. The anomaly came and went quickly.
Ronan took two steps back, panting, his eyes fixed on Herams before him.
Herams seemed to deliberately avoid Ronan's gaze, but a cold snort escaped his lips.
"You don't need to look at me like that... Many people are interested in you. In my hands, you'll suffer less. Later, I can dismiss them with a single report."
"But you, kid, are indeed a bit strange."
Herams examined Ronan with his artificial eye, as if trying to see through him completely.
"The quality of your soul is so tainted that even a three-star rating would be a stretch, yet your mental power is astonishingly pure. You're clever, and your comprehension of Spells is undoubtedly good. Coupled with your unusually pure mental power, it's indeed possible for you to achieve a five-star rating in the Spell assessment.
But kid, I must remind you, a wizard's physical body becomes less important after advancing to Dawn. Don't put too much effort into it. With your aptitude, the chance of advancing to Dawn is slim."
Herams stroked his sparsely bearded chin, staring at Ronan with a peculiar look, muttering, "I'm still curious about how your brain is structured, how you managed to become the second highest achiever in the Tower of Knowledge since the founding of Spirit Lake. Would you be interested in letting me dissect and study it? I can offer something to enhance your soul's aptitude in exchange."
"No need," Ronan coldly refused, his tone stiff. "Second? Then who's first?"
Herams, perhaps feeling a bit guilty about his earlier actions, didn't mind Ronan's impolite tone and directly gave a name.
"Herams?!"
Ronan's pupils contracted slightly. "Was he also a member of Spirit Lake?"
"No," Herams shook his head. "It was just a transaction.
Herams once wanted to collect all the ancient spirit texts from the entire Upper Ring Continent—those things resembling runes you saw in the tower. He offered a part of his legacy in exchange for the right to stay in the Spirit Text Hall for a year. In less than half a year, he memorized all the ancient spirit texts in the hall."
"Herams offered his legacy in exchange?"
Ronan's eyes trembled slightly, and a certain armband hidden deep within his space ring seemed to vibrate in response. "So Spirit Lake possesses a part of Herams' legacy?"
Heliodor glanced at him and said indifferently, "It's not as you think. This part of the inheritance is not within the core Law-Controlling system of Herams.
Moreover, it was later proven that this transaction was an absolute loss for Spirit Lake. Without the core runes of the Law-Controller system, this non-core Spell inheritance cannot be practiced."
Ronan's heart skipped a beat upon hearing Heliodor's words.
"Where is this part of the inheritance now?"
Ronan noticed the peculiar look in Heliodor's eyes and calmly added, "No one wouldn't be interested in it. Even if it can't be practiced, I still want to witness it. After all, it's the inheritance of the most legendary Wizard in the history of the Upper Ring Continent."
"It lies in the depths of the sea... if there's a chance."
Heliodor chuckled meaningfully and reached out to pat Ronan's shoulder, but Ronan cautiously avoided it.
Unbothered, Heliodor turned and walked toward another exit in the room.
"Wait here for a moment. I'll prepare what you need for initiation. If you get bored, you can count the clocks on the wall..."
Ronan watched Heliodor's figure disappear completely and muttered coldly, "What an old sea otter."
Regardless of the reason, Heliodor's earlier act of forcibly probing him had crossed his bottom line, and his goodwill toward the man had plummeted to freezing point.
Fortunately, Alazan had helped cover for him, or he might have ended up as a "lab rat."
That said, Heliodor's mention of a part of Herams' Spell inheritance being stored in Spirit Lake had piqued his interest greatly.
If Heliodor wasn't just boasting, his life in Spirit Lake would now have a new goal to look forward to.
"If there's a chance..."
Ronan took a deep breath and resolved, "I must get my hands on that part of the inheritance!"
Calming his mind, Ronan called out to Alazan in his thoughts and soon received a weary response.
The biggest secret within Ronan was probably the five Mental Power Crystals that surpassed the geniuses who had ventured into the "Mist Forbidden Zone." This secret was also closely tied to Alazan, so he didn't complain much.
However, when Ronan made yet another request, Alazan finally gritted his teeth in frustration.
"Do you really think I'm some all-powerful, wish-granting bottle?"
"I don't want to fall into the same trap twice."
Ronan said calmly, "I remember all the help you've given me.
This matter benefits you too. If I'm restricted because of this, you'll suffer as well."
Alazan fell silent.
A moment later, information about a Spell flowed into Ronan's mind.
Ronan lowered his head and began to ponder it carefully.
After the brass clock on the crystal wall ticked seven hundred and fifty-four times, Heliodor returned.
"You should understand the necessary procedures."
He walked up to Ronan and casually pulled out two yellowed pieces of parchment.
The parchment began to burn rapidly as soon as it was unfolded, soon turning to ash, leaving behind lines of text that looked as if they had been scorched by flames.
"Two contracts—one with Spirit Lake, and the other with the Deep Sea."
Hailiodor said indifferently, "If there are no issues, then prick your finger and press the blood seal..."
Ronan carefully read through the contents of the two contracts, then looked up and asked, "Can I sign directly with soul power?"
Hailiodor glanced at him, "That would be even better."
Ronan nodded, then raised his hand, a trace of soul power seeping from his fingertip and merging into the two contracts before him.
As the contracts were completed, the fiery words in the air gently dispersed and vanished.
Hailiodor confirmed everything was in order, then took something out from the sleeve of his Wizard Robe. As he handed it to Ronan, he gave him some instructions.
Ronan put on an expression of focused listening, but in his mind, he was communicating with Alazan.
"Are you sure this method is foolproof?"
"This 'Soul Simulation Spell' is a closely guarded secret of the Shadow Leech School. I remember mentioning it to you before—it was created by Nash, the owner of the finger bone you used in the Storm Realm. I recall that his favorite pastime in life was using this Spell to disguise himself as various characters and experience different lives. We had many common topics because of this. What are you worried about? Don't forget, the soul power you just used to sign the contract was mine!"
"Then I'm reassured..."
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