Cultivating in the Wizard World

Chapter 619: Chapter 526: The Qualification for a True Name

Jeming did not interrupt his monologue or correct the subtle difference between "coming back alive" and "pressing a Sixth Level Wizard to pierce through the chest."

Nor did he care about his title issue.

Regardless, after Viola’s reminder, Jeming believed he could accept anything as long as it wasn’t something like the "Black Man’s Coffin Dance."

Some things are too troublesome to explain.

Moreover, he really just "came back alive."

As for whether the opponent retreated voluntarily or fled in distress, in terms of the result, the difference isn’t significant.

"We’ll talk about the title later." Jeming interrupted Blake’s increasingly outrageous naming ideas, his tone with urgency, "Let’s leave now. If that Sixth Level Wizard adjusts his state, or calls his colleagues to chase us, it will be too late to leave."

Blake’s excitement instantly froze, replaced by a hint of panic.

"You’re right! If that Sixth Level Wizard catches up again..." He quickly reacted, "That would be a disaster! Run, quick!"

Without saying a word, he immediately activated presence concealment, his figure like melting ink, rapidly fading away, leaving only a wisp of urgent spiritual transmission:

"I think we’d better go back to the camp and rest first."

Jeming nodded slightly, then paused underfoot, activating Void Step, transforming his whole being into a subtle stream of light.

He followed Blake’s almost imperceptible hidden trajectory, rushing towards the camp direction at full speed.

...

...

Tower of Annihilation Camp, core treatment area.

This is a huge underground space, layer upon layer of Defense Arrays and Space Anchor Techniques completely isolating it from the external battlefield.

A pale green Life Energy flows across the dome like an inverted star river, evenly spilling over hundreds of neatly arranged nourishment chambers below.

One chamber, which originally displayed "vacant" status, was suddenly filled with nutrient solution.

To be accurate, between the states of "empty" and "overflowing liquid with a humanoid outline inside," all the intermediate processes were directly erased.

The nutrient liquid surged, and a pale hand reached out from below the liquid surface, pressing on the inner wall of the chamber lid.

Sizzle...

The chamber lid silently slid open, and the Black Robed Wizard sat up from it.

The moist hood clung to the side of the face, a large amount of pale golden nutrient solution pouring down the edge of the robe, gathering into small streams on the alloy floor.

His sudden appearance was like a stone cast into a calm water surface.

The ward’s alert array was triggered, lighting up, dozens of Detection Techniques almost simultaneously locking onto the nourishment chamber’s position.

Several mechanical body medics working immediately interrupted operations, head scan arrays swiftly rotating.

Several Fifth Level Wizards near the entrance, despite their bodies not fully recovered, forcibly opened Shields, energy fluctuations suddenly chaotic.

Most of those lying here are Wizards who retreated from frontline severe injuries.

The most conspicuous are the special, large nourishment chambers engraved with multiple layers of Law Solidification patterns against the wall.

Through the translucent chamber lid, several indistinct figures can be seen floating inside.

That’s the rest area for several Seventh Level Wizards.

Most of them were seriously injured at the beginning of the battle, but even now remain in a state of deep rest, unresponsive to external changes.

In the corner of the Sixth Level Wizard zone, a slightly smaller nourishment chamber.

The chamber lid suddenly automatically lifted.

The Wizard lying inside opened his eyes, slowly sat up.

His appearance seemed somewhat horrifying.

The left half of his body, including the left half of his head, disappeared completely, the severed part covered with a layer of slowly growing black fluid like living ink.

Yet his expression remained tranquil, as if losing half his body was merely a trivial matter.

This Sixth Level Wizard, with only the right half remaining, upon seeing the wet Black Robed figure by the nutrition chamber, his alert expression, tightened by the alert technique, rapidly relaxed like a fold being smoothed.

He raised his remaining right hand, waving casually.

That was a gesture of "our own, lift the alert."

The surrounding Wizards, seeing this, though their eyes still held residues of doubt and suspicion, ultimately withdrew their Shields and Detection Techniques.

The air in the treatment room returned to tranquility.

The Black Robed Wizard stepped out from the edge of the nourishment chamber.

The moment he landed, the nutrition liquid remaining on him, damaged robes, and even his slightly pale face from unhealed injuries...

All these "not yet completed treatment" states, at that instant, vanished like precisely wiped ink.

His black robe restored like new, dry and tidy, face turning rosy, breathing calm.

As if the critically wounded person just sat up from the nourishment chamber was merely an illusion.

The Sixth Level Wizard standing nearby glanced at the detection mechanical body not far away, raising his chin with interest.

The mechanical body obediently slid over, projecting the nourishment chamber’s consumption record in mid-air.

A series of data jumped quickly.

"...Goodness." The Sixth Level Wizard, now only half-bodied, whistled, his voice carrying unrestrained surprise, "Consumption of nutrient solution, Level Three Standard Units, one thousand seven hundred portions. Regeneration catalyst, eighty units. Soul stabilizer, my goodness, did you really use three of those?"

He turned to look at the Black Robed Wizard, a curious glow in his single eye, "Who were you fighting against out there? Illusion."

The Black Robed Wizard, addressed as "Illusion," did not answer immediately.

He first glanced at the other’s pitifully severed limb, with a slight frown:

"Dark Crow. It’s surprising that you got hurt like this."

The tone was calm, but the underlying surprise was evident.

Upon hearing this, Dark Crow grinned, revealing his ghastly white teeth.

He spread open his only remaining hand, shrugging his one-sided shoulder, his tone casual as though discussing mundane matters:

"Bad luck, ran into an old Seventh Level guy on the opposite side. Consider it a win to come back alive."

He paused, looking at Illusion with keen interest, "But you, your situation... Tsk, I’ve never seen you inside a nutrient capsule before. Did you also run into a Seventh Level?"

Illusion remained silent for a moment.

"...Fifth Level."

Dark Crow’s smile froze on his face.

"Huh?"

"I encountered a Fifth Level Wizard," Illusion repeated, his voice steady, showing no hint of emotional fluctuation, "Not Seventh Level."

Dark Crow’s single eye widened to the point that the black fluid covering his severed limb rippled with spiritual fluctuations.

"A Fifth Level Wizard did this to you?!" His voice involuntarily rose, "Are you joking? You are ’Illusion’! Even against an ordinary Seventh Level, you wouldn’t be this battered!"

Bear in mind, although the Law of Fabrication isn’t much among Eighth Level Wizards, its combat power in the Sixth and Seventh Levels is quite impressive.

Considering the traits of the Law of Fabrication, Dark Crow’s statement is quite conservative. Illusion would escape effortlessly even if faced with multiple ordinary Seventh Level Wizards.

And in terms of combat strength, he ranks well among Sixth Level Wizards.

More importantly, the inherent traits of the Law of Fabrication determine that when confronting Wizards below one’s level, Illusion’s combat prowess would seem unusually exaggerated.

Not exaggerating, if it’s a Fifth Level Wizard lacking strength, facing Illusion, they would be immediately slain by the Law of Fabrication!

Without even a shred of possibility for resistance!

Illusion did not refute.

He simply stood there quietly, allowing Dark Crow’s shocked gaze to sweep over him repeatedly, before softly speaking:

"He’s the one who took down the Hand of Obliteration."

Dark Crow’s pupil suddenly contracted.

"...That rumored Fifth Level." His voice lowered, filled with an indescribable complexity, "So it’s true. That Hand of Obliteration guy was indeed taken down by a Fifth Level Wizard."

Illusion nodded slightly.

"A pity," he said, his tone carrying a trace of regret even he hadn’t noticed, "I still don’t know his name. If there’s a chance to meet next time, I’d want to ask."

"Next time?" Dark Crow acutely caught the additional meaning in Illusion’s words, a flash of brilliance appearing in his single eye, "You mean... you believe he deserves a ’true name’?"

Illusion gave him a glance.

"He’s only Fifth Level now," Illusion’s tone was serene, as if merely stating a fact, "Yet he’s already defeated two Titled Wizards, including myself."

The so-called Titled Wizards are those like Hand of Obliteration or Illusion, who completely abandon their original names and use only code names, the elite among Wizards of the same level.

And a true name, naturally refers to ’monsters’ who require no codename but retain their own names!

Illusion didn’t continue speaking.

But Dark Crow already understood.

"True name Wizard..." he muttered, his expression becoming exceptionally complex, "A Fifth Level Wizard, already qualified to pursue a true name?"

"Isn’t this a normal thing," Illusion said nonchalantly, "Don’t forget, he’s only Fifth Level."

Dark Crow fell silent.

Indeed, he’s only Fifth Level.

That word ’only’ is the most terrifying part of the whole sentence.

Fifth Level, defeating the elite Sixth Level Hand of Obliteration.

Fifth Level, forcing Illusion, also a Sixth Level elite, into the nutrient capsule.

Dark Crow suddenly chuckled, a laugh mixed with self-mockery and a certain savviness of someone who’s seen it all.

"Speaking of..." His voice was somewhat ethereal, "This kind of ’young up-and-comer’ sentiment used to be something I’d hear from my mentor’s generation, saying things like ’the times have changed,’ ’young people nowadays are incredible.’ Never thought, never thought, one day I’d end up saying these words myself."

He lowered his head, looking at his incomplete half-body.

"For us to climb to Sixth Level, weren’t we all supported along the way by various ’geniuses’, ’prodigies’?" His tone was airy yet carried considerable weight, "And now? We’re encountering a little fellow who can make us sigh in awe."

Illusion did not respond.

He simply stood there quietly, after a long while, he lightly nodded:

"Times are moving forward. If we old bunch don’t want to be crushed, we need to move forward too."