Wizard: My Skills Can Infinitely Break Through

’Ian was Level Three, his status now no different from hers. Between the two of them...’

In the living room, the light from the Crystal Stone Lamp illuminated her delicate face.

The tip of her nose was slightly red, and her eyelashes cast a fine shadow beneath her eyes.

She stared at Ian for a long time before her eyes curved into crescents and a smile blossomed on her face.

"A Level Three Wizard..."

She repeated the words, her voice trembling with an emotion she couldn’t suppress.

"I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces tomorrow. First thing in the morning, you’ll come with me to the clan’s assembly hall."

Ian nodded. "Alright."

’He’d been coveting the Justice Clan’s library for a long time.’

Aidele didn’t linger and turned to leave.

When she reached the door, she paused and looked back at Ian and Gaga in the candlelight.

"Next time you go on a long trip... at least tell me."

The door closed softly. The sound of her footsteps faded down the alley and eventually disappeared.

Gaga tilted its head up, its silver eyes fixed on Ian.

"Ian, you understand what she means, gaga."

Ian rubbed his temples. "Of course I know."

He said with certainty, "I broke through to Level Three, and she’s won her bid. That’s why she’s happy."

Gaga rolled its eyes and tilted its small head to one side.

"You’re so dense."

It hopped onto the back of the sofa, curled into a ball, and closed its eyes, leaving only a faint murmur echoing in the living room.

"Poor Aidele..."

"Gaga, I’m a Level Three Honored Guest Elder now. Tomorrow, we’ll see if their clan treasury has any goodies you can use..."

「The next morning.」

The sun was dazzling, and the sky was a brilliant blue.

In the square before the main hall of the Justice Clan’s estate, seven or eight carriages were parked.

The carriage doors were engraved with various family crests: a Thunder Eagle, vines, stars, flames...

Wizards stood in small groups beneath the colonnade, speaking in hushed tones as if afraid of disturbing something.

Ian followed Aidele across the square, with Gaga perched on his shoulder, its silver eyes scanning the crowd.

"Is that Ian? The one whose Honored Guest Elder assessment went wrong..."

"I heard the Hawkwood Clan’s Death Warriors tried to blow him up..."

"Elder Soron suppressed them on the spot..."

"He’s got some real luck to survive that..."

Ian stared straight ahead, his gaze fixed on the black metal doors of the assembly hall.

The doors were ajar, revealing the dim light within.

Aidele stopped before the doors and glanced back at him, a question in her eyes.

Ian gave a slight nod.

She took a deep breath and pushed the massive doors open. The hinges turned with a low groan.

The great hall was already filled with people, at least three times as many as there were at the last assessment.

All nine stone chairs on the high platform were occupied.

Elder Darcy sat in the center, his gray-white Long Robe draped over the side of his chair. Elder Soron sat to his left, his withered fingers resting on the armrest.

The other seven Elders sat in order, their expressions calm, but their auras were as deep and solid as an abyss.

In the gallery, several young people were seated.

Edwin held a teacup, looking relaxed and carefree.

His silver-white Long Robe was immaculate, and the corner of his mouth held the faint hint of a smile.

Adrian sat beside him, his expression somewhat gloomy, his gaze shifting restlessly.

Next to them was the fifth heir, Ashia. Her golden hair was tied up with a silver hairpin, revealing a smooth forehead.

Her eyes were calm, like a pool of deep water.

She looked at Aidele and gave her a slight, encouraging nod.

Aidele walked to the center of the hall and stopped, her deep purple Long Robe shimmering with iridescent colors under the light of the Crystal Stone Lamps.

Elder Soron was the first to speak. "Aidele, you said you had an urgent matter to announce."

Aidele nodded, turning to face the high platform, her back perfectly straight.

"My Honored Guest Elder, Ian, was... formally promoted to Level Three Wizard the day before yesterday."

Her soft words struck everyone like a clap of thunder, exploding in their minds.

As her voice fell, the hall was plunged into dead silence.

A roll of parchment slipped from the fingers of a middle-aged official, drifting down like a withered leaf before slowly settling on the floor.

The officials on either side of the counter looked as if they had been hit by an Immobilization Spell.

Their bodies were rigid, their pupils dilated, and they even seemed to have stopped breathing.

Elder Darcy shot upright, his gray-white Long Robe rippling across the surface of his chair.

He stared at Aidele, a piercing glint of light flashing in his eyes.

It was like two bolts of lightning tearing through the air.

Elder Soron’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he tapped a withered finger gently on the armrest.

The tap was faint, but everyone in the hall heard footsteps.

Ian walked slowly into the hall.

He emerged from behind Aidele and came to stand at her side.

His gray robe seemed plain under the light, but at this moment, it was like a banner of some kind.

In the gallery, the teacup in Edwin’s hand tilted.

Tea spilled out, splashing onto his silver-white sleeve and spreading into a dark stain.

But he seemed completely unaware, his eyes locked on Ian, his pupils shrinking to the size of pinpricks.

"A Level Three Wizard..."

Adrian’s expression was just as grim; his fingernails dug deep into the wood grain of his chair.

Ashia’s eyes brightened. She looked at Ian and Aidele, the smile on her lips deepening bit by bit.

Elder Darcy stood up and walked down from the high platform.

His gray-white Long Robe trailed behind him, and with every step he took, the ground seemed to tremble slightly.

An invisible pressure spread out with his steps, and the air in the hall suddenly grew thick and stagnant.

The Level One Wizards turned pale and found it hard to breathe, as if an invisible hand were wrapped around their throats.

Darcy stopped three paces from Ian, the light in his eyes growing brighter and brighter.

It was as if he wanted to pierce through his pupils and peer into the depths of his Soul.

Ian met his gaze calmly. Deep within his pupils, the phantoms of three Star Orbits slowly spun.

Darcy raised his right hand, palm up, fingers spread.

Ian raised his left hand, also open-palmed.

The two palms stopped an inch from each other in the air.

HUMMM!

Silver specks of light, as dense as stardust, appeared in Ian’s palm, swirling into a small, silver nebula.

From the center of the nebula, a faint golden light shone through—the mark of the Purification Rule.

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