The wizards' meetings were astonishingly efficient.
They stood in stark contrast to the meetings from Benjamin's previous life, which could drag on for hours, passing through layer after layer of communication while saying nothing of substance.
Wizard Noren was concise and clear-headed. In less than ten minutes, he had laid out the purpose and preliminary arrangements for establishing the Elite Combat Unit with perfect clarity.
As Wizard Noren's projection faded, the brief silence in the conference room was replaced by low murmurs of discussion.
Just as Benjamin rose to his feet, he caught the meaningful look Mentor Clark sent his way.
He understood at once and left with Viola, who had somehow appeared at his side.
The two followed Mentor Clark out of the noisy conference room and once more entered that office filled with the strange scents of all kinds of alchemical materials.
"Sit." Mentor Clark pointed at the chairs beside them, then walked behind the laboratory bench. His gaze first settled on Benjamin. "Your mental power is stable. It seems you've maintained your condition well. I heard about your performance on the Giant Spirit Realm battlefield. Well done. It seems you haven't relaxed your accumulation of knowledge."
"Yes, Mentor." Benjamin responded respectfully, openly accepting his mentor's praise.
Clark nodded in approval.
He then got straight to the point, calmly adding details that had not been explained during the meeting. "You should have grasped the core of the news Lord Noren brought back. Let me give you a detailed introduction to the situation at the front lines."
"The front lines are divided into two parts. The first-line battlefield is personally overseen by the Level 9 Lords, and its targets are those powerful planes that possess Level 9 lifeforms and are capable of threatening the foundations of wizardkind."
He paused,