Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 815 - 366: The Storm Approaches (Part 2)

A bizarre sensation coursed through him, akin to converting clamor into harmony, reshaping disorder into elevated order.

Right as he finalized his setup, Uphemia detected the incoming tempest.

The white-haired witch's face turned grave; she evidently grasped the peril of this event.

"Chaos storm..." her tone came across especially feeble against the storm's thunderous din:

"A distortion of such scale... could only stem from an Apostle-level entity..."

The blood demons trailing her started displaying clear signs of distress.

These abyssal beasts, typically ferocious in standard settings, seemed utterly fragile before this chaos outburst.

Driven by instinct, they clustered near Uphemia, craving protection from their bloodline lord.

"Damn..." Uphemia clenched her teeth, retrieving assorted defensive artifacts from her storage pouch:

"Under these circumstances, I can't shield these blood demons properly... They'll just drag me down..."

A ruthless resolve gleamed in her gaze as she commanded the frailest blood demons:

"You, get away from me now."

The blood demons roared in reluctance, yet compelled by bloodline authority, they had no choice but to withdraw from their mistress.

She refrained from having them consume one another since time was too short for evolution via cannibalism. She had seven or eight blood demons with her overall.

Uphemia realized their survival odds amid the chaos storm neared zero.

Just the pair of mightiest blood demons stayed, boasting purer abyssal lineages, maybe capable of lasting a bit longer in the gale.

"This cursed realm..." Uphemia muttered through gritted teeth, "The depth ought to suffice."

She stopped moving and drew a crimson crystal orb from her chest.

Dark red fluid swirled within the orb like a living thing, designed to trace particular bloodline signatures—a hidden gem.

"Odd..." Uphemia furrowed her brow as the fluid inside the crystal orb churned wildly:

"The target's scent is so vivid, yet why does it seem like someone's observing me?"

Her gut feeling proved accurate.

A chilly voice echoed from her rear:

"Observed? More like appraised; I'm gauging your true worth."

Uphemia's form stiffened at once; the voice's weight exceeded any she'd faced before.

"You are..." She turned gradually, her words betraying a quiver.

Ron emerged from the darkness, his piercing eyes glinting with icy chill in the faint glow.

Beneath his scrutiny, Uphemia felt exposed like a lab subject under the scalpel, every fiber revealed.

"I'm Ron Ralph." His self-introduction was brief.

Hearing that name, Uphemia reflexively tried to trigger her bloodline control.

But to her astonishment, this reliable innate power failed utterly against him.

"Don't bother, 'Experiment No. 18.'"

Ron's tone stayed even, yet the label sliced through her poised exterior like a dagger:

"Your bloodline dominance won't work on me. Actually, I know much more about you than you'd ever suspect."

"How... how did you learn this alias?" Uphemia's voice shook harder.

Overtaken by dread, Uphemia overlooked any chance her secrets had leaked to Uther.

Ron ignored her query, advancing steadily, each footfall amplifying her mounting dread.

His eyes glowed with a blue hue, a side effect from prolonged practice of "Star Eater’s Ravings."

"Allow me to deduce Aiden's mission for you." Ron's voice resembled dissecting test results:

"Infiltrate my side through any method, then at a pivotal instant, ignite the mark inside you to impose some mental domination or corruption on me."

He paused, now five paces from Uphemia:

"Did I get it right, or do you harbor more inventive schemes?"

While speaking, he gradually released pent-up mana.

This was the dread power built via the Meditation Technique trait "Star Projection."

Stellar energies erupted from him like a cascading Milky Way, instantly shaking the whole Flesh and Blood Forest.

Nearby "Heart Trees" throbbed wildly, their vine-like limbs thrashing like startled snakes.

Mana density in the atmosphere spiked, forming tangible warped waves.

Uphemia endured the crushing weight, her frame quaking beyond control.

Her two trailing blood demons had collapsed, shuddering and whining.

"This mana potency..." Horror filled her mind:

"Surpasses numerous Moonlight Level Mages... What sort of freak is he?"

The Uther mark searing on her neck warned her sharply against any impulsive moves.

That vast power disparity, along with the binding surveillance runes, utterly crushed her impulse to resort to force.

"Now, we can communicate normally." Ron drew back most of his magic power, yet kept a lingering menace:

"I have a proposal, a deal beneficial to both of us."

Uphemia fought to calm her quivering voice: "What... what deal?"

"It’s simple." Ron’s face grew serene, as though the earlier intimidation had never happened: