【Simulation Year Five, Age 22】
【Aeoca Kingdom, White Raven Tower, Summer】
【Two years had passed since leaving Clawphire. Thanks to your exceptional talent and considerable resources, you had gained some renown within the wizard towers.】
【The White Raven Tower extended an invitation to you】
【Offering you a position as an official member of the tower】
【You declined the invitation. The current tower master expressed regret, assuring you that the tower’s doors would always remain open should you change your mind.】
【Meditating on the soul, purging the undead, refining spell formulas】
【Your life was monotonous and austere, akin to the asceticism of legendary devotees—unyielding in discipline, unmoved by frivolity.】
【Some attempted to court your favor, even sending you fair-faced elves as gifts】
【You shuddered inexplicably five times, sensing an eerie chill creeping up your spine, as if fate itself had taken notice】
【You rejected their overtures, declaring your sole focus on cultivation, unwilling to be distracted by worldly pleasures】
【Ten days later, you heard strange news】
【The wizard who had sent you the elves had recently suffered a streak of misfortune—first besieged by high-tier undead, then hunted by draconic beings】
【You expressed sympathy for his plight】
……
【Simulation Year Five, Summer Fades into Autumn】
【Due to the erosion of the Netherworld, the changing of seasons in the wizarding realm was subtle, yet you could still perceive the desolate shift in the environment】
【Gazing out the window, you felt the surging tides of your soul, nearly impossible to restrain】
【You were ready to break through to Second-Circle Wizard】
White Raven Tower.
Knights stood with metallic lances in hand, bearing the proud banners of the White Raven—azure backgrounds adorned with white ravens in mid-dive.
The black sun’s radiance was veiled by deathly clouds.
On the streets, the figures of passersby flickered like phantoms, fragmented and elusive, swallowed by the silence.
Occasionally, the silhouettes of other races appeared.
Elven archers, orcish sword saints, dwarven warriors—among others.
These professions, much like human knights, shared a common core with wizards: the harnessing of soul energy.
Yet their methods were far less efficient.
Those lacking the talent to become wizards could only merge combat techniques into alternative forms of supernatural prowess.
"Life always finds a way."
"Wizards have their methods, and non-wizards have theirs."
"By my reckoning, next year marks the decade’s resurgence of the Dark Tide, when the undead will multiply exponentially."
"With a Fourth-Circle Wizard Tower standing guard, the Aeoca Kingdom need not fear for its safety."
"As for Servia..."
"Her remote location sees fewer undead. With her swordsmanship and enhanced strength, she should be safe."
Within the training chamber.
Xu Xi’s soul energy rippled outward as he observed the world beyond, contemplating his next steps.
Dimming the lights, he activated the shielding runes.
He was preparing to ascend to Second-Circle Wizard.
"The soul—a bridge between life and death." Xu Xi sat in meditation, a faint yet shimmering luminescence coalescing in his palm.
It was light. It was fire.
His soul, having reached the peak of the First-Circle, blazed with unrestrained intensity, radiating overwhelming power.
"Now, the final step—materializing the soul’s essence."
Xu Xi extinguished the soulfire.
Closing his eyes, he immersed himself in meditation.
Through the lens of a wizard’s perception, he peered into the deepest recesses of his being, where his intangible soul resided.
Xu Xi’s soul was already inscribed with dense networks of spell formulas—each representing a mastered 0th-Circle or 1st-Circle spell.
These patterns served as conduits for channeling soul energy, enabling the casting of corresponding spells.
They also functioned as regulators, allowing him to fine-tune his soul’s structure.
"These past years, studying the White Raven Tower’s knowledge cost me time. Otherwise, with the Soul Harvester’s unique traits, I should have broken through sooner."
"Now, it’s time to reap the rewards."
The spell formulas resonated in unison.
Their collective vibrations crescendoed.
Xu Xi’s will encased his soul like an impenetrable prison, subjecting it to a comprehensive transformation.
The truths of the world he had grasped.
The first innate spell he had engraved.
Under an unending torrent of infusion, his soul finally reached its zenith, catalyzing the melting and evolution of every spell formula.
"Second-Circle Wizard—achieved in an instant."
At this moment.
Xu Xi’s soul seemed to leap free from his body, from the White Raven Tower itself, standing amidst the boundless expanse of the world, witnessing realities previously unseen.
Such as the infinite shadow of the Netherworld, stretching across the skies.
An immeasurable, layered domain ruled by deathless monarchs—the land of finality.
It wasn’t that a Second-Circle Wizard could now perceive the world.
Rather, the world had drawn so near that even a Second-Circle Wizard could glimpse it effortlessly.
Whoosh—
A fierce wind surged.
Guiding his soul back into his body.
"‘Materializing the soul’—such a crude explanation. It literally detached from my body." Within the training chamber, Xu Xi slowly opened his eyes.
His soul pulsed. His consciousness expanded.
The innate spell he had engraved upon becoming a First-Circle Wizard had also undergone a wondrous evolution.
1st-Circle Spell · Life Decay.
Now evolved into: 2nd-Circle Spell · Life Withering.
At first glance, this spell seemed tailored for the living, yet it held equal potency against the dead.
"Stripping vitality, corroding souls."
"Strange—why does this feel like a villain’s power?"
"But... paired with the ‘Life-Death Paradox’ trait, this innate spell seems perfect for delving into the mysteries of life and death."
Xu Xi raised his hand, unleashing an invisible force that rippled outward, stirring violent gusts.
Some of the experimental materials nearby.
Upon contact, withered like dying flowers, shriveling into desiccated husks.
Next.
Xu Xi tested other spells.
Elemental spells, universal spells, transmutation spells, curse spells...
Though he still wielded the same 1st-Circle spells, their potency had markedly increased under the enhanced soul of a Second-Circle Wizard.
Some even showed signs of spontaneous mutation.
"So this is how it feels..."
"Beyond the amplification of supernatural power."
"With each breakthrough in the wizard’s path, the soul naturally comprehends new truths, unveiling fresh knowledge."
Xu Xi marveled, realizing that what had once been inscrutable now lay bare before him.
It was exhilarating. Liberating.
No wonder some wizards had called for the Netherworld’s descent, seeking the key to further ascension.
"Now that I’ve reached Second-Circle, once I master a sufficient array of 2nd-Circle spells and match my realm’s combat prowess, I can leave the White Raven Tower."
Xu Xi rose and exited the training chamber.
On his way back to his quarters, he glanced at the gloomy sky outside—the black sun hung high, its light tainted.
All things were shrouded in despairing darkness.
"Second-Circle Wizard is the White Raven Tower’s limit."
"It can’t provide the resources for advancing to Third-Circle, nor the ideal conditions for soul research. It’s time to move forward..."

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

ver to a world of cultivation and returned invincible. Modern medicine is child's play compared to elixirs; technological might crumbles before true cultivation. My name is Qin Ning, Earth's sole cultivator!

nto another world, I bought a slave for the first time, never expecting the silver wolf girl to be so cute... Lin Feng: I know it's cold, but you don't have to sneak into my bed! Yuna: Just sharing body warmth, if you dare do anything naughty, I'll definitely...

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”