Chapter 71: [Welcome to the World of Mist!]

Ronan wiped the beast's blood from his face and slowly stood up.

He extinguished the Breaking Force flames on his longsword and opened his character panel.

Most of his skill attributes hadn't changed significantly, except for the substantial progress in—[Ascetic Body Training (Expert 799/800)].

Stuck at the cusp of expert level, just one step away from master!

Ronan stared at the small text for [Ascetic Body Training], his eyelid twitching.

Only he knew the extent of the hardships he had endured to reach this point.

He had lost track of how he managed to persevere, with the concept of time becoming blurry, leaving only a single thought in his mind: relentlessly train his body.

Countless nights he lay on the academy dormitory floor, his gums bitten through, with sweat mingling with blood, soaking him repeatedly.

Whenever he was about to give up, the words of the young witch from the blue-roofed house echoed in his mind like the toll of a bell—"You will most likely die of old age! You will most likely die of old age!"...

But Ronan didn't want to die.

Not even a little.

The intense desire to survive drove him to master all thirteen movements of [Ascetic Body Training]. For better effectiveness and to further enhance his physique, Ronan even resorted to consuming raw magical beast flesh, a rare and unconventional "remedy."

Then, whether it was due to delving deep into [Ascetic Body Training] or consuming too much beast flesh, his body swelled like a balloon.

His once slender and perfectly muscular physique, which he was quite proud of, had transformed into that of a burly man covered in bulging muscles.

Of course, the physical enhancement was terrifyingly effective; Ronan could now engage in close combat with high-level beasts, even overpowering and defeating them.

"Can I crush a high-level energy barrier with my bare hands now?"

Ronan looked at his hands—once pale, slender pianist's hands, now rough and broad, with veins like worms running across the backs, exuding explosive power.

"Rip—"

He casually tore a watermelon-sized heart from the chest of the still-breathing four-armed ape beast, ignoring its stench and heat, and devoured it in big bites.

The flesh, rich in energy essence, quickly metabolized into streams of heat in Ronan's stomach, disappearing into his body.

Ronan felt like a blazing furnace, consuming any fuel thrown into it instantly.

"I'm practically a human beast now. Do other knightly training methods achieve this effect?"

Ronan didn't know, but by now, he could sense the extraordinary nature of [Ascetic Body Training], despite it not being a formal method.

Just the fact that it was stuck at "Expert 799" proficiency—more stubbornly than any previous spell—suggested it wasn't simple.

Perhaps he had stumbled upon a treasure after all.

Ronan cleaned the battlefield, cutting and eating the most energy-rich parts of the beasts he had personally slain.

Having consumed beast flesh for so long, Ronan now considered himself an expert in magical beast meat; he could identify which parts were tastiest and most nutritious.

If he had the chance, Ronan thought he might even write a book on the subject.

"Laura... Anglair..."

He murmured the two names as he swallowed the last bite of flesh.

These names had been a significant source of motivation for Ronan to persist until now.

Weakness is a sin; for those at the bottom to control their fate is difficult, but it must be attempted.

After finishing his meal, Ronan grabbed his sword and traversed the forest, soon finding an icy lake.

He broke the ice with his bare hands and plunged into the lake.

Moments later, he emerged, cleansed, from the lake, stepping onto the ice.

The cold water clinging to him evaporated into steam from his body heat before he even reached the shore.

His formidable physique stood on the bank, resembling a bear on two legs from afar.

Ronan brushed his hair, shaking out the icy fragments, then donned a clean robe from his storage pouch.

His wet hair draped over his shoulders, bothering him slightly. It had been a while since he tended to it, making him think of Vinicia.

"No more waiting."

Ronan glanced again at his [Ascetic Body Training] proficiency, silently making up his mind.

"Waiting longer would render advancement meaningless."

He couldn't spend all his time preparing for advancement because becoming a formal wizard wouldn't immediately resolve the threats to his life.

Both Anglair and Laura were not ordinary wizards.

Ronan needed to leave enough time after becoming a formal wizard for further training, learning first-level spells, forging soul sigils, and constructing a spell system to enhance his strength, potentially qualifying him to confront them.

The main issue was...

Ronan realized his [Ascetic Body Training] was stuck at Expert 799 because something essential was missing.

But he didn't know what it was, and the manual didn't say.

"After consuming so much beast flesh, it should be enough."

The goal of body training was to make his vitality robust enough to withstand the Spirit Ignition Potion's burn; Ronan felt his physique had reached its limit, recently feeling his energy about to overflow.

"Success or failure, today will decide!"

"Boom!"

Ronan punched a large ancient tree nearby, sending it crashing down with a loud crack, raising a cloud of snow.

Ronan walked on, expressionless, his gray robe billowing slightly in the wind.

"...If I fail, help with the arrangements. Please send my inheritance to these people."

On the grass outside the dormitory, Ronan spoke in a low voice to his only acquaintance at the academy, his neighbor Dobby.

Dobby stood before him, pale, shivering like a quail, his legs trembling.

Ronan felt helpless; even without consciously releasing his gaseous-level mental energy, his overwhelming physique and presence from battling high-level beasts were enough to intimidate most mid- to low-level wizard apprentices.

After giving simple instructions, Ronan handed Dobby a note with some names, then turned and entered his dormitory without hesitation.

Watching Ronan disappear, the frightened Dobby wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Who knew what had happened to his ninth-level apprentice neighbor to turn him into a "human bear" in just a few months?

No one said apprentices needed to train their bodies before becoming formal wizards!

Dobby glanced at the names on the note, puzzled, then hurried off.

[If I unfortunately die in...]

Just starting, Ronan snapped his quill, then shredded the draft of his "will."

"Why bother with posthumous affairs? If I die, nothing after matters to me."

Expressionless, Ronan sat at his desk, gazing out the window.

Winter was ending, and the sunshine was pleasant. Ivy on the windowsill thrived, a scene full of life.

Yet Ronan couldn't foresee his fate.

He closed his eyes, exhaled, and when he reopened them, his lake-blue eyes held only profound calm.

Five bottles of crimson Spirit Ignition Potion sat on the desk.

With enough resources, Ronan didn't plan to use the bottle Anglair gave him.

He was ready to attempt becoming a formal wizard, at any moment.

Resolved, even knowing he faced probable death, Ronan felt at peace.

He picked up a bottle, opened it, and drank.

The potion, cold in his hand, was like molten lava going down, burning through Ronan's throat into his stomach, igniting him entirely!

Pain!

Unprecedented, excruciating pain!

Ronan's face twitched but he endured.

This pain differed from the suffering of [Ascetic Body Training]; it wasn't physical or mental, but reached his soul.

Ronan seemed to feel something inside him being incinerated.

Impurities... and part of his soul itself.

Ronan's once robust physique withered, his overflowing energy quickly dissipating.

Yet his gaseous mental energy resisted further transformation.

As the burning sensation faded, Ronan knew his first attempt had failed.

Or rather, this "burn" hadn't met the soul's minimum threshold for ascension.

Ronan opened his eyes, already in the [Realm of Clarity], his gaze azure as the stars, a master's mind and temperament helping him gauge the precise breakthrough moments, unaffected by pain or the fear of death.

He swiftly opened a second bottle, swallowed it, and the burning returned, more intense than before.

The second attempt still wasn't enough.

The third...

Then the fourth...

The fifth.

Ronan lost track of how many tries and how much pain he endured.

The difficulty of becoming a formal wizard correlated with soul aptitude, as did the pain.

Wizards with excellent soul aptitude might only feel a mild burn for a smooth breakthrough.

But Ronan was different.

His pain was excruciating, surpassing normal limits a hundredfold!

"Not enough... still not enough."

"Still below the minimum standard."

Ronan murmured, reaching for another bottle of Spirit Ignition Potion.

But his hand found only air.

He opened his eyes, seeing five empty bottles scattered on the table.

Looking at his hand, it was withered, skin wrinkled like dried orange peel, barely any muscle left.

A wave of weakness and helplessness surged over him.

He lowered his head, his hair falling, dry and gray like straw.

His vision blurred, eyes dim, the azure clarity in his pupils dulled.

He could almost smell his body decaying.

He realized then...

He was...

Dying.

His once abundant life force now flickered like a candle in the wind, ready to extinguish.

"Do I still have a chance?"

Ronan murmured, his voice hoarse, his mouth dry.

Maybe...

He shakily retrieved another potion from his pouch.

The last one.

And it was all he needed.

This Spirit Ignition Potion differed from the others, a deeper crimson with mysterious purple threads.

"With your aptitude, you'll need this."

A face, neither handsome nor ugly, appeared in Ronan's mind, with a meaningful, wicked smile.

"Anglair."

Ronan whispered, his emotions stirring.

But he soon calmed, using his last strength to uncork the bottle... and drank.

"How long has it been?"

Dobby stood by the window, parting the thick ivy, peering toward the neighboring dormitory.

From outside, the small house seemed silent, as if uninhabited.

"Three days, and not a sound."

"Could he really be dead?"

Holding a note with several names, Dobby muttered.

Though rare, ninth-level apprentices dying while attempting to become formal wizards happened.

If it happened to his neighbor, it would make sense.

Dobby had learned his neighbor was a wandering wizard, recruited for his merits during a mission.

Despite being a ninth-level apprentice, he was ignorant of many wizarding norms.

Wandering wizards generally had poor aptitude; Dobby heard that after his neighbor's gaseous stage, not one mentor chose him...

How poor his aptitude must be.

Dobby thought, glancing again at the neighboring house, then crumpled the note and tossed it into a trash bin.

As he did, relieved, ready to leave the window—

"Boom!"

A vast, invisible mental force erupted from the window, whipping the curtains inward.

Alarmed, Dobby looked outside.

In that instant, he seemed to see a white "sun" rising from the neighboring house, its light dazzling and imposing, exuding innate nobility and grandeur.

"This..."

Dobby stared at the abrupt "sun," feeling its majesty, his expression shocked and incredulous.

"Did he really break through?!"

The next second, he remembered something and turned to dive for the trash bin.

"...I recently found that combining nightshade nectar with moonlight grass seeds extends invisible potion duration."

"Seriously, you're still on that despite the old lady's warning?"

"No one can stop my great alchemical invention, not even the alchemy tutor..."

On the academy dormitory path, two young wizards in academy robes chatted as they walked.

As one gestured excitedly, suddenly...

A massive aura emanated from a nearby house!

Both stopped, turning to look, shielding their eyes from the intense light.

In their eyes, the house was emitting blinding, searing light, as if a small sun was rising within.

Their faces showed shock, quickly replaced by envy.

"Hey, another apprentice became a formal wizard."

"So, Elvin... maybe give up your silly research."

The aura and light from the house spread, catching the attention of more passersby, who stopped, sensing the distant aura.

Many exclaimed, faces showing envy and joy.

They understood that from now on, Hoddam Academy had gained another formal wizard.

In the small room, a turbulent vortex of air swirled, rattling the furnishings.

At the vortex's center stood a solitary figure.

Beneath the billowing robe was a slender, upright body, topped with white hair flowing like the robe.

"I did it."

Ronan stood quietly in the room's center, sensing his transformation inside and out.

"Flap, flap—"

A flutter of wings came from the window.

Countless owls with envelopes poured in.

One bold owl approached Ronan, offering a gilded card.

Ronan opened it, reading the single line—

**[Welcome to the World of Mist!]**

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