Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 868 - 384: The Great Wizard’s Appreciation

The Great Wizard, having transcended the fragility of flesh, manifested as a perfectly constructed metallic form within his Void Remains projection.

His body, a gleaming silver-gray, exuded an almost surgical precision, while his facial features were so sharply defined, they lacked any trace of human softness.

But it was his eyes that instilled the deepest unease.

Two luminous spheres of pure silver, devoid of pupils, yet they possessed the unnerving ability to convey an intense, bone-chilling sensation of utter penetration.

Facing Ron’s direct gaze, Vinard didn't even acknowledge him.

Instead, his attention remained fixed on the technical schematics he held, his silver eyes reflecting a complex tapestry of dense equations.

With a casual flick of his metallic digits, he would trace glowing trails of calculation through the air.

"Another prodigy propelled forth by the Conquest Faction..."

Vinard's voice, a grating friction of metal, dripped with condescension: "Yet, the fact that you've reached the point of standing here suggests you're at least not one of those brutish fighters who grasp nothing beyond basic Rune principles."

Occupying the vice-chair, Alicia Brown embodied a different, yet equally terrifying, presence.

Her Dark Sun Level Void Remains projection defied a stable human shape, appearing as a continuously swirling vortex of deep crimson flame.

Within the inferno, hints of elegant feminine curves would briefly surface, only to contort into ferocious visages of angry faces and roaring beasts.

It was whispered that she had immolated her physical body entirely during the creation of her Void Remains, now existing solely as pure Magic Power.

"Tsk tsk... Another naive youngster fresh from the incubator?"

A sharp, feminine voice emanated from the heart of the flames, laced with mockery: "These young ones today, each more insolent than the last, believing they can reshape the world with a few superficial documents.

Young man, I sincerely hope your contributions justify the gathering of these esteemed individuals, lest..."

Her statement dissolved into silence, the flames suddenly shifting to an eerie, sulfurous green, the atmosphere thick with the acrid scent of burnt flesh.

Carlvin Jones, his left sleeve hanging empty where his arm once was, now possessed three Abyss tentacles extending from the severed end.

His gaze meticulously assessed the young man before him: "Word is you've encountered Apostle-class entities within the Abyss?"

Carlvin's voice rasped like metal grinding against grit: "Whether that was sheer skill or mere fortune, I cannot say. Academic pursuits are not the chaotic Abyss; luck plays no part. If your capabilities fall short, they simply fall short."

Minne remained as she had appeared previously, her demeanor unchanged save for the profound weariness etched into her eyes.

"Lecturer Ralph, we meet again."

Her tone was the warmest among those present: "I trust this occasion will allow you to once more showcase the prowess that fuels your reputation."

August White, a skeletal old man, offered only a silent nod towards Ron.

Ron then stepped towards the central seat positioned on the defense rostrum – a peculiar chair meticulously carved from Abyss Obsidian.

The chair's surface was intricately inscribed with writhing True Word Runes.

These potent symbols writhed and shifted across the stone like living entities.

Poised to instantly amplify the speaker's voice while faithfully capturing every minute fluctuation in their Spirit state.

As he settled into the chair, a chilling sensation permeated his very being, crawling up his spine.

It felt as though countless invisible tendrils were caressing his nerves.

Vinard finally deigned to raise his head, his voice radiating unmistakable impatience: "Given Uther's personal endorsement, I have agreed to hear your discourse."

His tone, sharp and cold as a winter frost: "However, let me be unequivocally clear: my time is a precious commodity.

If your so-called 'research' proves to be naught but a reheated performance, I shall depart instantly and formally record 'Intellectual Deficiency' on your academic file."

"Now, elucidate the core thesis of your investigation – the fundamental reason why you contend that a complete paradigm shift in technological direction, established for over two centuries, is imperative?"

Confronted by such palpable hostility, Ron maintained his characteristic composure.

He drew a steadying breath before commencing his carefully prepared declaration: "Esteemed panel members, my research stems from a fundamental observation..."

His voice, amplified by the resonant True Word Runes, became remarkably distinct: "The inherent flaw within traditional simulation frameworks lies in their futile attempt to replicate chaotic dynamics through methodical, orderly means.

It is akin to capturing the essence of a raging river with a static, unmoving sculpture – the form may be recognizable, but the vital spirit is absent."

Alicia’s flames surged with agitation: "Every novice fancies themselves an expert, eager to critique the work of their predecessors! Do you presume the researchers of yesteryear were simpletons?"

"Certainly not," Ron replied, his confidence tinged with humility: "I hold the efforts of all who came before in the highest regard. Yet, technological advancement itself is an ongoing process of perpetual refinement and surpassing. The constraints that bound us over two hundred years ago should not dictate our limitations today."

He rose and moved towards the central holographic projection apparatus situated within the conference chamber: