Jie Ming buried himself in the laboratory, tirelessly researching the secrets hidden within the Lava Giants’ biology.
Day and night, without rest, time seemed to lose all meaning.
However, his days-long research frenzy was abruptly interrupted by a “beep-beep” notification from the magic network terminal.
Jie Ming, slightly dazed, lifted his head from the sea of data, instinctively opening the terminal.
His highly active mind was still processing calculations and experimental data related to the Lava Giant transformations.
The message was from David.
In concise terms, David announced that he had completed his advancement to second-tier wizard and was thanking Jie Ming for his work on transforming the Elosia Plane’s remnants, fulfilling a promise David had made to a sage of that plane.
Jie Ming blinked, taking a few seconds to snap out of his daze.
Only then did he realize that, since his last communication with David, he had unknowingly spent decades immersed in research!
“No wonder,” Jie Ming murmured, his fingers brushing over the research logs on the light screen. “The progress on the Lava Giant evolution research is nearly complete. So much time has passed.”But then, his brow furrowed sharply.
He suddenly felt… as if he had overlooked something crucially important.
Instinctively, he began scrolling through the terminal’s message logs.
Decades of ignored, unread messages flooded into his already hyperactive mind.
After a long while, Jie Ming pinpointed the source of his unease: Amy and Victor hadn’t sent a single reply since departing for their military service!
Jie Ming instinctively wanted to send them a greeting message.
But as his fingertip touched the send button, the terminal automatically displayed a chilling, blood-red auto-response:
[Target Account: Victor Sario, confirmed in ‘Deceased’ status.]
[Target Account: Amy Graysparrow, confirmed in ‘Deceased’ status.]
Boom!
In that instant, Jie Ming felt as if struck by lightning.
His entire body froze, as if hit by a heavy blow.
Despite his powerful mental acuity, it took him several minutes to process the information.
His mind, capable of handling vast amounts of data simultaneously, went blank, unable to comprehend the meaning of the words before him.
Forcing down his shock and disbelief, he shakily continued checking with trembling fingers.
He delved deep into the terminal’s records for the exact details of their deaths.
Soon, he found the true cause:
[Operation Code: ‘Nest of the Whispering Stars,’ Plane Conquest Mission.]
[Reason for Mission Failure: Errors in psychological manipulation techniques against native inhabitants, triggering the self-destruct mechanism of the target plane’s core.]
[Casualty Report: Entire participating wizard team perished. Victor Sario, Deceased ID: XXXX. Amy Graysparrow, Deceased ID: XXXX.]
[Note: Both were caught in the energy explosion from the plane’s self-destruction. Contract reactions confirm complete death. Due to the absence of remains, it is recommended that the academy initiate the honor compensation mechanism.]
After confirming the authenticity of their deaths, Jie Ming found himself at a loss for what he was feeling.
Pain? Grief?
Perhaps. His chest felt blocked, his breathing labored.
But it wasn’t as intense as the novels described.
To his shock, Jie Ming realized that the dominant emotions in his heart were a profound confusion and bewilderment.
It was as if his mind, capable of unraveling complex formulas, couldn’t make sense of the cold information on the screen.
Death?
Those two… just died?
After a long time, sitting in his comfortable chair, Jie Ming stared at the flickering death notices on the screen and finally came to his senses.
His first instinct was to stand and do something!
Anger? Revenge?
Or perhaps, go confirm this intangible death?
But then, he slumped back into his chair.
In his past life, he might have attended a friend’s funeral or visited their family to offer condolences.
But in this world, wizards seemed to have no such customs.
More cruelly, Jie Ming realized he didn’t even know who to share this with.
Death was all too common for wizards.
Their concept of it was worlds apart from Jie Ming’s.
Worse, though he had known Victor and Amy for years, he knew nothing of their families.
He didn’t even know if they had any family.
In that moment, Jie Ming truly realized that, despite years in this perilous wizarding world, deep down, he was still that ordinary person from his past life.
He still clung to the most primal, purest attachments to life and friendship.
Sitting motionless in his chair, Jie Ming thought for a long time.
Finally, he sent a message to Senior Viola about Victor and Amy’s deaths.
He remembered Amy mentioning in the Elosia Plane that Viola was a friend of her parents.
To his surprise, shortly after sending the message, Viola responded with a communication request.
Jie Ming hesitated but ultimately accepted.
When Viola’s face, tinged with mockery, appeared on the screen, Jie Ming suddenly regretted telling her.
“Oh, my dear junior~” Viola’s voice, dripping with malice, boomed through the communicator. “This is rare! Your anguished expression over your friends’ deaths is one in a million among wizards! It’s just—so satisfying to see!”
Jie Ming’s heart surged with anger.
He clenched his fists, though reason told him that Viola’s reaction and words were the “normal” response of veteran wizards in this world to life and death.
His pain was his own, irrelevant to others.
Unless they were close, no one would care.
“No, a proper wizard wouldn’t actually take pleasure in my pain,” Jie Ming silently added to himself, watching Viola.
Then, a loud thud
came from the screen.It sounded like Viola was yanked away and tossed aside.
Mentor Clark’s familiar, stern voice, laced with helplessness and fatigue, rang out in the background: “Viola! Stop fooling around! Finish sorting today’s data!”
Clark’s disheveled, slightly balding face replaced Viola’s on the screen.
Compared to Viola’s gloating, Clark’s expression was far more normal.
Without mockery, he calmly assessed Jie Ming’s dejected and lost demeanor.
Then, Clark’s hoarse voice came through the screen:
“This is because you’re still too ‘immature.’ Jie Ming, your current mindset shows you’re still an ordinary mortal, not a truly mature wizard.”
“But that’s fine. Experience a few more events like this, and you’ll become a true wizard.”
Hearing Clark’s seemingly harsh words, a warmth flowed through Jie Ming’s heart. “Sorry for troubling you, Mentor…”
He looked at Clark on the screen, his eyes filled with gratitude.
He knew Viola’s quick response in such a busy time, with her “improper” taunting, must have been permitted—or even arranged—by Clark.
Their swift reply was no coincidence.
They were clearly keeping an eye on his mental state.
But wizards weren’t skilled at comforting.
So, they could only use their unique wizardly approach to try to alleviate his grief and confusion, helping him transform quickly.
Clark’s unkempt face didn’t linger long on the screen.
After analyzing Jie Ming’s state, he gave a calm nod, as if handling a trivial matter, and promptly ended the call.
Just before the connection cut off, Jie Ming could still hear Viola’s wretched wails.
Staring at the now-dark screen, Jie Ming blinked in a daze.
The laboratory returned to its usual silence, with only the faint hum of alchemical instruments echoing.
But somehow, after Viola’s biting “mockery” and Clark’s calm “lecture,” Jie Ming felt his turbulent emotions, stirred by his friends’ deaths, inexplicably settle.
It was a strange sensation, as if a heavy boulder pressing on his heart had been pried open, letting a sliver of sunlight through.
Shaking his head, Jie Ming pushed aside his chaotic thoughts, trying to refocus on his Lava Giant transformation research.
Mentor Clark was right—for wizards, the pursuit of knowledge was the eternal theme.
All emotional fluctuations would eventually be smoothed by the river of time.