Assessment Content

In the center of a metallic platform shimmering with a cold light, a magic crystal the size of a human head sat in the most prominent position. As a mechanical prompt sounded, the crystal, which stored a massive amount of information, was activated.

The ink-black yet crystalline magic crystal began to emit a soft radiance as energy was injected into it, and a light screen immediately unfolded before Ryan.

Looking at this highly sci-fi scene, Ryan noted that this touch-screen 3D projection technology was something he hadn't even had the chance to experience in his past life. He never expected it to be utilized first in this alternate world of sword and magic. Feeling the light screen move with his fingertips, Ryan couldn't help but sigh that this high-end black technology was "black" to an excessive degree.

Although he knew this was likely a flexible application of illusion magic, Ryan still felt embarrassed by Archmage Adam's eccentric taste, given how this sci-fi-filled fantasy design felt so jarringly out of place with the aesthetic of Faerûn.

However, after this realization, Ryan's agile mind suddenly sparked with many wild ideas: for instance, using illusion magic in tandem with theatrical performances to achieve high-end 3D surround effects. Paired with various classic masterpieces he could adapt from his past life, the heart-shaking results would surely leave the bumpkins of the Faerûn continent's theater scene in the dust. Selling them out for a fortune would be no dream.

Alternatively, he could use the magic crystal's ability to store information and light to start filming movies. He could sell Faerûn-adapted versions of classics like The Old Man and the Sea or Titanic, transforming himself into a cultural tycoon. Perhaps, by relying on excellent and moving stories, he could even "freeload" a qualification as a "Chosen of the Gods."

"Cultural export: I'm filming movies in another world. Great idea, but it's too suicidal. I'll leave the heavy responsibility of promoting Blue Star's excellent culture to the next lucky brother."

Considering that cultural ideas can sometimes spread faster and more terrifyingly than a plague—with even more absurd effects—and knowing that the big shots in this magical world are all adept at soul-searching and hypnosis, not to mention the devils of the Hells who are masters of playing with souls, he might accidentally get targeted by some powerhouse and hypnotized into a 'Game Over' if he became too famous.

In the end, this world speaks through strength. One need only look at how even the high and mighty gods can be trapped in the Abyss and reduced to playthings to be toyed with at will.

With these wild thoughts passing through his mind, Ryan cast them aside. The young mage decided his current physique couldn't handle such operations; perhaps the next guy to transmigrate to Faerûn could rely on the cultural heritage of a whole world to make his fortune. (Whispering to himself: Actually, I highly doubt any of you here could really remember those classic masterpieces once you reached another world. At least I can't.)

As the light screen expanded, the mechanical intelligence's prompt echoed through the ruins once more: "Please open Data Center Experimental Record No. 23, Group 4—'Research on Pentacolored Dragon Physiology and Functional Characteristics: Development Record of Enhanced Dragon Skin Spell.' The Inheritor must read the record and complete the learning and successful casting of this spell within two days. Please complete the trial within the allotted time."

While listening to the explanation, Ryan opened the experimental record on the light screen. The first things to catch his eye were a series of shocking experimental titles:

"Autopsy Results of Feralized Animals: Skeletal and Muscular Model and Empirical Analysis under Berserk Effects," "Research Framework for Multi-Species Polymorph Spells Based on Mimic Transformation Principles," "Correlation of Racial Restrictions for Magic-Addicted Casters: Empirical Analysis Based on Drug Resistance and Racial Values"...

Ryan clicked his tongue in wonder, his curiosity piqued by these seemingly fascinating studies. He tried to click on the titles to enter the main text for study, only to be told: "Insufficient clearance. Access denied."

The curious mage, left unsatisfied, curled his lip in frustration. While silently cursing the clickbait, he skipped directly to the 23rd record and successfully opened the document to enter the main text.

Scanning it briefly, Ryan found the record wasn't particularly long. The wording was concise and precise, reflecting a strong scientific mindset in every sentence. Paired with the accompanying diagrams and magic model analysis, it perfectly hit the "G-spot" of Ryan, a former STEM student.

Ryan silently estimated the time. "Dragon Skin" was, after all, a third-circle spell, and it had been modified to a certain degree. Although he had some understanding of Dragon Skin from his previous spell studies, he hadn't delved deep into it. To fully master, understand, and successfully cast it within a mere two days was a tight schedule.

The fair, slender fingers of the blonde youth slid through the air. Having gauged the difficulty of the assessment, he turned to the "Illiterate Trio," who were staring blankly at the text and patterns before him, and explained:

"It seems the owner of this laboratory wants an Inheritor who is quick-witted and eager to learn. I need to focus my energy on learning this spell; I'll leave the matters of safety and vigilance to you."

Jelona had wanted to contribute to Ryan's efforts, but after realizing that while she recognized every individual word on the light screen, she couldn't make heads or tails of them when they were put together, she began to doubt her own existence. In the end, she honestly returned to the group to take up guard duty.

The deserted testing ground returned to a cold, deathly silence. The frigid, heatless light shone upon the young mage's brilliant golden hair. Jelona occasionally stole glances at the youth's azure eyes, which seemed to shimmer with stars, while the Dwarf and the barbarian warrior stared at the gate and ceiling, killing time in boredom.

A chilling wind blew from the deep ventilation shafts, as if a beast from the Hells were exhaling softly. The Dwarf shivered, muttered a few words, and continued to idle away.

Deep within the ruins, a phantom radiating a faint purple light stood in the midst of a profound void. Before it, three screens were unfolding one by one:

On the first screen, inside a sealed, empty room made of white steel, a woman with fiery, flame-red hair sat at a long metal table, looking utterly miserable. She rested her chin on her hand, staring fiercely at the light screen before her.

In front of her, two or three mages dressed in the attire of the Waterdeep Mages Guild were arguing and debating intensely. The Red-Haired Witch had shed her usual arrogance and defiance, holding a scroll in her hand while staring absentmindedly at the screen the others were gathered around, lost in thought.

On the light screen before Valera, a line of ancient Netherese text floated in mid-air: "Inquiry into the Principle of Regional Energy Superposition: Empirical Record of Exponential Energy Increase under the Effect of Five-Fireball Superposition."

In the second screen, Swick and his lackeys were sprinting across a vast experimental field. A steel giant scorpion the size of an elephant was charging recklessly toward a group of panicked mages.

Amidst the tense and desperate dodging, the furious young noble tore open magic scrolls from time to time, casting spells to hinder the progress of the hideous steel scorpion. However, the bio-mimetic construct, treated with special enchantments, only bore scorched marks; it continued to wave its eight sharp, cold-glinting blade-limbs, pursuing the fleeing mages.

The phantom swept its gaze over the first two screens and sneered: "Are mages these days this weak? They haven't even mastered basic spell application and magical experimental skills. Each generation is worse than the last.

That fellow Dunblinton is as soft-hearted as ever. If it were the Master, anyone who failed even this basic test would have been turned into experimental equipment long ago. How could there be any chance for a construct to be used as a second round of testing?"

When the purple phantom's gaze turned to the third screen, it locked onto the blonde youth in the center, who was intently analyzing the magic. After pulling up the records and notes the youth was viewing, it nodded slightly: "At least there is one good seedling. But why does he give me such a strange and familiar feeling?"

The mysterious phantom fixed its gaze on Ryan for a long time, as if making an important decision, and marked Ryan's figure as a priority.

In the void, the phantom flickered and collapsed like shifting sand, dissipating into nothingness.