Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 809 - 364: No One Can Hurt My Child! (Part 2)

"The prophecy's guidance stands crystal clear..."

Ron drew in a profound breath, a firm resolve crystallizing in his mind:

"I have to confront the looming trials by myself; letting them tag along would just cause pointless deaths."

The prophecy's concluding segment offered precise steps to take.

The blood diagram shifted once more, unveiling an intricate sequence of events:

It started with parting—Ron's figure detached from the rest;

Followed by drawing near—the primary figures (Ron and Nari) started merging paths;

Then exchange—a mark of dialogue emerged between them;

Culminating in unity—all forms blended into a grander, mightier entity.

"The crux is in the mindset..."

Ron scrutinized the exchange phase closely and spotted a vital clue:

As his form neared Nari's, a particular sentiment had to be conveyed.

During this moment, the blood glowed in a cozy orange-red hue, denoting affection, concern, and... family-like tenderness.

"Must I exhibit family closeness toward that Abyssal Apostle?"

The idea seemed ridiculous initially.

Yet linking it to the potential "mother-child" link between the Stand-In Puppet and Nari made this stance logical.

Once divination concluded, the blood hardened, and the bones dimmed.

Still, the elaborate design stayed etched vividly on the divination plate, echoing the revelations Ron had grasped.

He breathed deeply again and started sorting the intel he'd gathered:

"Firstly, meeting the Abyssal Apostle is inevitable, and this Apostle probably shares a family-like connection with the Stand-In Puppet."

"Secondly, various groups will get involved, featuring a dangerous female figure."

"Finally, the whole ordeal will trigger profound shifts, for better or worse."

However, the divination left out: strategies for tackling these trials and ways to boost rewards while cutting dangers.

He would need his wisdom, past encounters, and sharp instincts to tackle those.

"Based on the blood bond emblem, I ought to treat that Abyssal Apostle like some kind of ’relative.’"

Ron pieced together a plan mentally:

"Viewing the puppet as its offspring, I, as the puppet’s ’maker,’ might come across as a unique figure."

"Yet the challenge is proving this tie and dodging the peril from that enigmatic woman."

He carefully stowed the divination gear, noticing the strained looks on Miller and the team's faces.

"What were the results?" Miller inquired softly, "Your face suggests it's not promising."

"It's pretty intricate." Ron replied honestly, skipping most specifics:

"We're bound to run into Apostle-rank beings, and more than one likely."

This revelation tightened every team member's nerves.

Blake gripped his War Axe harder without thinking, Camilla inspected her magic supplies, and even steady Miller wore a grave look.

"Pull back?" Miller questioned briefly.

"No." Ron's response stunned the group:

"But retreat to a secure zone, while I deal with the next encounter solo."

This choice ignited arguments among the squad.

"What? Boss, have you lost it?" Blake protested first, "Taking on an Abyssal Apostle by yourself? That's asking to die!"

"Mr. Ron, think it over again." Camilla urged anxiously:

"No matter your strength, risking it all alone is unwise."

Yet Miller nodded after a quick reflection.

"If that's your call, we'll honor it."

The experienced fighter's tone held some reluctance but chiefly comprehension: "In the Abyss, excess companions can drag you down. Plus..."

He glanced at the teammates:

"Against true Apostle threats, we'd just hinder rather than aid."

He knew his boundaries and refused dumb moves driven by false ’loyalty.’

"Head back to the safer spot on the Third Floor." Ron outlined the next steps:

"If I'm not back in 72 hours, go straight to the observation station and report everything."

"Got it." Miller affirmed with a nod, "But certain you don't want backup? Like a comm device at minimum?"

"No need." Ron declined, shaking his head:

"The divination indicates this meeting demands a precise demeanor. Others around could ruin the vibe."

Though uneasy, the team ultimately agreed to the plan.

Within the Abyss, individual choice outweighs group effort often.

Each bears duty for their paths, risks included.

Once the Magic Isolator released its last faint hum, it descended into total silence.

Ron meticulously stowed the divination instruments in a custom silk pouch.

He lifted his gaze and spotted Miller’s team stowing their gear.

Within this grotesque woodland of veins and sinews, the human forms seemed exceptionally tiny and delicate.

In the shadowy glow, Blake’s scar-riddled face contorted.

His calloused hand kept stroking the War Axe’s grip, while his prosthetic eye spun restlessly in its socket, letting out a subtle mechanical whir.

"Boss..." Blake rasped, his voice rough like timber sawn by a blade:

"Are you sure you don’t need any of us to stay? Even if just following from a distance, we could cover for you if something happens..."