Sinking as Instinct, Youth as the First Blade

[[Immaculate Body]]! [[Immaculate Body]]! Ronan once again felt an urgency to find the next generation of the [Ascetic Body Forging] technique.

He wasn't particularly ambitious about the powerful legacy Bennigo mentioned, but rather felt that he could start preparing regardless.

At the very least, this unique advantage that sets us apart from other wizards should not be allowed to slowly be buried by time.

What conditions are required for the rotation?

Ronan thought for a moment and asked Bennigo.

Bennigo replied, "It's very demanding, almost impossible."

Especially since you've already demonstrated outstanding talent in the tests..."

"Then forget it."

Ronan accepted this fact calmly.

Nothing in this world is perfect. A month ago, he couldn't even have predicted that he would switch to ice magic.

The doubled effect of ice spells is indeed quite tempting, but he has "Yarlis's Ice Ring Necklace," so this rune can only be considered "icing on the cake" at best.

He had originally intended to reserve the space for the [Silver Transformation] rune for the second Soul Rune after advancing to the mid-stage of the first level.

"My main goal is to inherit the Metal Element Spell Inheritance."

"For you."

Bennigo tossed a Rune Stone to Ronan.

Ronan caught it, and after his mental energy penetrated it, he was surprised to find that it contained a complete set of first and second-tier Metal Element spells, as well as the [Silverization] rune inheritance.

"Although you have now become a core member, it would normally take at least half a year to accumulate contributions to obtain these. Anyway, you will get them sooner or later, so it is not against the rules of the Arcane Circle for me to pass them on to you now."

Bennigo said calmly.

This was outside the scope of the transaction. Ronan looked at the Rune Stone in his hand, his eyes flickered, and Bennigo.

"Come on, I'll take you to see other places."

Bennigo beckoned to Ronan and then casually walked in one direction.

The entire interior of the Seventh Magic Ring is actually a circular area built around the Seventh Silver Tower.

Beneath the Silver Tower, many buildings cluster together, and the further out you go, the more open it becomes. You can imagine it as a cake tower that keeps piling up towards the center, Bennigo and Ronan are now walking around the edge of the cake.

"The central silver-white tower is the Ring Lord's secluded retreat. The Ring Lord's radiance covers the entire Seventh Ring. You might consider moving in later, as meditation here will be slightly more effective than outside."

"Do you see those ten gray towers surrounding the giant tower?"

Bennigo pointed Ronan in a direction, and Ronan looked up in the direction he was pointing.

Those were ten wizard towers right next to the Silver White High Tower. They were all gray, and each tower had a striking blue orb on top. The orbs varied in size, and the taller the tower, the brighter they were, like ten beautiful lighthouses.

"That represents the ten best meditation spots in the entire Seventh Magic Ring."

The innermost, tallest one—the meditation effect inside is ten times that of normal meditation."

Only the ten most powerful and talented wizards with soul ages under one hundred are qualified to reside here.

Bennigo gazed in the direction of the gray lighthouse, a hint of reminiscence in his eyes. "I used to live in the sixth tower; it was indeed a wonderful time."

Ronan glanced at Bennigo and understood how the Third Ring insignia on his robes came about.

As for why he only has the strength of a level one late stage now, it's probably because he had a bad temper and acted too arrogantly, which led to him being beaten to a pulp.

"There's actually a limit to the age of a soul. For wizards who pursue immortality, isn't age always just a number?"

Ronan said casually.

Bennigo turned to look at him, his eyes slightly narrowed, and said in a calm yet serious tone, "This is the most important thing I'm about to tell you about the Arcane Circle, Damien."

Ronan paused, waiting for Bennigo to continue.

Do you know why we are the Seventh Magic Ring?

"Because... we're the weakest?!"

"Yes."

Bennigo nodded. "Not only is the ranking of the Arcane Circle based on strength, but the positions of the Seven Ring Masters are also ranked according to their respective strengths."

Rankings are also related to resources. Our Seventh Magic Ring has the fewest resources among the seven Arcane Circle.

"For example, the wizard tower that I just mentioned to you has the effect of enhancing meditation."

Our best-performing Seventh Magic Ring only increases the power tenfold, but in other Arcane Circle, even the worst-performing one might increase the power by more than tenfold. That's the difference in resources.

Bennigo looked Ronan straight in the eye and said in a low voice, "Damien, you want to survive well in the Arcane Circle, you want to establish yourself here."

The first thing you must learn is—to fight!

"Struggle?"

A slight ripple appeared in Ronan's eyes.

"Resources, heritage, reputation, connections—we have to fight for everything!"

"The eligibility to stay at the ten Meditation Tower is just the most superficial thing."

Bennigo coldly said, "The truly top-tier resources exist in those ancient, Secret Realm Space, but do you think just anyone is qualified to enter them?"

Most secret realms have a limited number of entry slots; if you don't compete, they won't fall into your lap.

Among wizards of the same level, this is often how the gap in strength is gradually widened.

"The more powerful a wizarding force is, the more it will encourage internal competition, because there is also competition between forces, and there are resources and living space that can only be obtained by fighting for them."

If you're not strong enough, you'll be overtaken, swallowed up, and eliminated by other forces. Are you familiar with the concept of the Multi-Ring Continent?

Bennigo suddenly asked.

Ronan paused, thought for a moment, and replied, "The Nine Rings Continent?"

"More or less, nobody really knows how many layers this world is divided into..."

Bennigo said calmly, "But it is an undeniable fact that free energy particles have been continuously sinking."

The density of energy particles determines the abundance of resources. The lower the land, the more resources there are, and the smoother the path to advancement. Every wizard should have the desire to continuously descend.

The ancient wizarding forces that once flourished on this continent, aside from those that were swallowed up by the river of time, have almost all moved to a lower realm.

"If you want to go higher in the future, then make sinking down an instinct."

"So."

Ronan couldn't help but frown and interrupt Bennigo.

"What does this have to do with the age of the soul?"

He could understand Bennigo's emphasis on the concept of "competition," which was simply the law of the jungle, the survival of the fittest, and that's how he had always lived.

Previously, what they were fighting for was not resources, but most of the time, the meager chance to survive as the weak.

In response to Ronan's question, Bennigo replied casually, "Your soul age is your ticket to participate in the competition for lower-tier markets."

"Um?"

Ronan blinked, puzzled.

"Young souls are full of energy and ambition, making them more suitable for fighting for the Arcane Circle."

"Most importantly, the entrances to many ancient secret realms can only be entered by souls that are young enough."

Because the flow of time within most secret realms is different from that outside, the older the realm, the more disordered it becomes.

At the edges of the entrances to these secret realms, large amounts of time energy particles accumulate, which develop into a mysterious force commonly known as the Time Curse.

The Time Curse loves to entangle wizards whose souls are imbued with the aura of decay. Like a swarm of hungry and greedy snakes, it can devour a wizard with little life left in the blink of an eye. Even if you are powerful, you will still be affected.

Only the breath of youth can drive away 'them' and withstand the curse.

"Therefore, the Arcane Circle has always favored young and talented wizards, and resources are basically tilted in this direction."

"A soul age of one hundred years is a dividing line. For the same level two wizard, the treatment of those with a soul age of one hundred years or more is very different from those with a soul age of less than one hundred years."

Bennigo stopped in his tracks. The pipe in his hand melted like mercury, eventually turning into a black dagger in his hand.

"Youth is your first sharpest weapon, Damien."

He looked at the short sword in his hand and said softly, "Make good use of it. When it's time to fight for something, you should fight for it. You must not back down or be soft-hearted."

Otherwise, there might never be another chance like this.

Ronan remained silent.

A moment later, he produced an ordinary little black wooden box in his hand, which he tossed to Bennigo.

"Here you go. The Saint Blood Tree seed you wanted."

But the wooden box was thrown out and then returned to Ronan's hands in the next second.

Ronan looked at Bennigo with a surprised expression.

Give it to me in three days.

I will leave the Arcane Circle in three days. You will bring the seed and infuse the Rune Array on the ice coffin with ice energy one last time.

Whether the seed survives or not, I will return it to you someday.

Of course, if you don't trust me.

Bennigo looked at Ronan and said calmly, "You can back out too."

Ronan's eyes flickered. "Why didn't you tell me about your departure after you got the seeds?"

Bennigo did not answer, but simply turned his head away and casually tossed Ronan a Communication Stone.

"I've offended a lot of people in the Arcane Circle before. If you ask me to be your guarantor, they'll easily accuse you of being one of my accomplices."

You might be forced into some trouble later. Keep this Communication Stone safe. If necessary, you can ask the owner of the other Communication Stone for help; he will definitely assist you.

Ronan stared intently at the Communication Stone in his hand, his eyes gleaming with a constant flicker of light.

When he looked up again, he found that Bennigo was no longer there.

"Three days."

Inside the Blueberry Inn, Ronan sat on a soft leather sofa, fiddling with a small wooden box containing the seeds of the Saint Blood Tree, his eyes fixed on something on the coffee table in front of him.

A Rune Stone records all first and second-tier Metal Element spells and the [Silverization] Soul Rune; an ordinary Communication Stone with only a communication mark on it.

It was those two things Bennigo gave him.

Ronan has checked everything, and the inheritance should be fine, but the Communication Stone "cannot sense the other party's mark at all."

Ronan frowned slightly. "Is Bennigo deliberately messing with me, trying to sabotage me at a crucial moment, or is it because he was tricked by someone else?"

The latter is more likely.

So far, Ronan has come out on top in this deal between him and Bennigo.

Aside from recharging the Rune Array on Bennigo's ice coffin—a simple act—he did almost nothing else.

Perhaps because of Bennigo's reputation, he may have unwittingly gotten himself into some unknown trouble, but this was his own choice, and he knew about it beforehand.

After enduring thirty years of hardship, being exploited by Basil, and potentially offending certain people because of Bennigo, he ultimately chose the last option.

"The smartest and wisest choice at this time is to collect the seeds, move them into the Arcane Circle, and get the cutting done with Bennigo as soon as possible."

Ronan thought to himself casually.

He quickly put the small wooden box back into his Storage Waist Pouch and calmly picked up the Rune Stone in front of him that recorded the inheritance of Metal Element Spell Inheritance to examine it.

"How about we wait until sunset?"

Bennigo sat on the moss-covered stone steps, picked up his pipe, tapped it on the edge of the steps, and turned to the long wooden crate standing beside him, speaking softly.

Before him lay a desolate and dilapidated courtyard, a dried-up and collapsed pond, and gray walls covered with withered vines. There was also a sun that had already set halfway in the west.

"Actually, I had the opportunity to get the seeds and leave immediately."

Bennigo put the cigarette holder in his mouth and took a habitual puff, but no smoke came out.

He never smoked in front of Fiona, because Fiona would cough violently if she smelled even the slightest bit of tobacco.

"He even gave me the seeds, but I didn't take them."

"... My soul is decaying faster and faster. My strength is weakening every day. When I meditate, my mental energy seems to be waving goodbye to me. I'm worried that I won't be able to hold on until the day I can return the things to him."

Bennigo, pipe in hand, muttered to himself. He turned to look at the long wooden crate beside him and whispered, "Will you blame me, Fiona, for possibly throwing away your only hope for resurrection?"

The long wooden crate stood silently, but Bennigo seemed to have already received the response he wanted.

He reached out to touch the grain of the wooden box, and even the festering wound on his left cheek seemed to soften.

Suddenly.

Unhurried footsteps came from outside the door.

"They're here."

Bennigo's eyes brightened slightly as he stood up from the steps.

But his expression quickly changed, and he swiftly put the long wooden box beside him into his Storage Waist Pouch.

"So it wasn't the person we were waiting for, Fiona."

A hint of ferocity flashed across Bennigo's handsome face as he chewed on his pipe, his robes billowing slightly.

He bent down slightly and began to run slowly toward the direction from which the footsteps were coming.

His footsteps were very light, like the most nimble cat stepping on a soft carpet, without making a sound, and his whole aura was completely concealed.

Countless black dots appeared on Bennigo's exposed skin, coalescing into black lines that resembled some kind of rune pattern.

Bennigo's pace quickened, and the ferocity and coldness in his eyes intensified. Finally, he approached the source of the footsteps, almost separated from it by only a wall.

Bennigo silently made a forceful slashing motion towards the opposite side of the gray wall.

As he made this movement, all the black patterns on his body came to life, flowing out along his skin and quickly condensing into a huge and ferocious hiltless heavy sword.

As the greatsword swung out in sync with Bennigo's movements, its entire blade silently faded from pure black to silver-white. Mysterious energy intertwined and surged from the point where the greatsword struck, causing the air to be violently compressed and collapsed, distorting the light. Finally, "Bang!"

The heavy sword slashed out fiercely, the air exploded with a deafening roar, and the gray brick wall at the point of impact silently turned into pure dust. Someone outside the wall seemed to groan, something was violently pierced, and then it was thrown away without a sound.

"Harry!"

Several incredibly powerful mental energy fluctuations erupted outside the courtyard wall in an instant. Someone cried out in shock and anger, while someone chanted incantations rapidly. "Boom!"

The next second, a terrifying energy particle storm erupted, and the entire outer wall of the huge courtyard collapsed, billowing smoke and dust, with intense light bursting forth from the dust.

Bennigo's eyes remained cold. The hiltless greatsword, which had long since turned pure black, flew back to him. Just as he was about to slash at the light and dust again, Bennigo suddenly turned pale and coughed violently, as if aggravating some injury.

The hiltless heavy sword instantly disintegrated into countless black dots and merged back into his body surface, and the aura emanating from his body also rapidly weakened and declined.

Bennigo retreated rapidly, simultaneously hurling dozens of black metal balls forward like splashes of ink.

The energy particles inside the metal sphere collided violently, and after being engulfed in smoke and dust, they suddenly exploded, generating a terrifying aftershock that spread out, forming heat waves and gales that almost leveled the surrounding soil and vegetation.