Clark swiftly changed the subject, focusing on business.

His expression grew serious, his voice lowering slightly. “Leave Jie Ming to your discretion. On to the main point: I’m contacting you to inform you that Augustine’s request for reinforcements has been approved.”

Clark’s face was grave. “The junction point just passed the approval, agreeing to send thirty thousand wizards to support the Frostflame Plane.”

“Reinforcements?” Viola’s expression didn’t relax; it grew more serious. “This complicates things…”

“Indeed. For a long time to come, your side will likely be in great danger,” Clark said, his tone heavier.

Sending large numbers of wizards to another plane had limited methods, and two years was too short to establish a stable teleportation device at the camp.

The best option now was to have the “ship” plane return to the junction point to transport the reinforcing wizards back to the battlefield.

“This is troublesome. It seems Augustine is the only sixth-grade wizard in this expedition, meaning only he can pilot the plane,” Viola said, shaking her head.

“If he does this…” Clark’s voice was clear and logical, “for a significant period, the highest combat power in the Frostflame Plane war will be entirely absent.”

This meant that during Augustine’s absence, the wizard legion on the Frostflame Plane would lose its supreme leader and its top suppressive force.

“And…” Clark’s tone grew heavier, “without the ship plane as a relay and support, your communication link with the main plane’s higher-ups will become extremely fragile, likely preventing even routine communications.”

“Worse, without the ship plane, the wizards on the Frostflame Plane will lose their only escape route!”

The ship plane wasn’t just a transport—it was a mobile energy hub and communication relay.

Without it, all wizards would be stranded in this foreign plane, with no way to return to the main plane or request reinforcements.

They would become an isolated army.

“Given the chaotic time flow between the two planes, once the ship plane departs, a round trip could equate to a decade on the Frostflame Plane. Viola, you and Jie Ming must be cautious,” Clark warned with a sigh.

“Understood, Mentor,” Viola replied calmly. “But why not have us leave with the ship?”

Clark looked at her expressionlessly. “Would you pass up such an opportunity?”

After a moment’s silence, Viola flashed a radiant smile. “To witness so many wizards in despair and pain? Of course I can’t miss it!”

Clark didn’t comment on her response, only shaking his head as if he’d expected it. “Your character is as deplorable as ever… Fine. I can’t reach Jie Ming, so when he returns, make sure to tell him about this.”

The call ended.

The screen dimmed, and the office fell silent again.

Viola didn’t immediately rest. She reclined on the soft sofa, contemplating what lay ahead.

But moments later, she sat up abruptly.

Her slender frame leaned forward, her face betraying an irrepressible intoxication, her gaze burning toward the laboratory door.

Just then, she felt a thrilling sensation from nearby.

Viola knew it well—her genius junior brother had returned.

Soon, two soft, rhythmic knocks sounded, and a figure appeared at the door.

He looked as usual, with faint traces of fatigue but no apparent abnormalities.

It was Jie Ming!

Viola’s lips curled into a perfect, satisfied smile.

…

Jie Ming, upon glimpsing the vast, bone-chilling “Sea of Malignance,” swiftly flew outward.

He pushed his speed to the limit, runes flaring around him to counteract the terrifying pressure of the depths.

As he ascended rapidly, he didn’t forget the “entrance” he’d created.

With mental energy flowing through his fingertips, he used the Alchemy Technique to reshape the surrounding terrain.

The massive pit he’d violently blasted open began to “meld” and “close” visibly under his will.

The earth itself embodied the concept of “bearing,” its heavy rock and permafrost layers, with their inherent inertia and resilience, capable of withstanding unimaginable pressure.

In theory, a sufficiently thick layer of earth could serve as the ultimate seal, completely burying what lay below.

However, as swift and exhilarating as the initial excavation had been, the process of “mending” the torn rock and soil back together was equally agonizing.

It wasn’t just the immense mental energy drain—it was an extreme test of willpower.

Jie Ming had never found manipulating rock so difficult.

As the project scaled, he had to calculate the gravity and structure of each stone, sense the tremors of the earth’s veins, and gradually repair the hundreds-of-meters-wide, hundreds-of-kilometers-deep pit from the inside out until it was fully sealed.

“Hiss…”

A stabbing pain surged through Jie Ming’s mind.

His mental energy felt like a wrung-out sponge, squeezed to its limits repeatedly.

Whenever his mental energy neared depletion, he unhesitatingly consumed a potion to restore it, diving back into the colossal restoration effort.

Finally, after exhausting his mental energy several times, the “restoration” neared completion.

With his final Alchemy Technique, the frozen ground beneath his feet silently returned to its original state.

The earth appeared untouched, bearing no trace of his bombardment.

But Jie Ming knew it was only superficial.

Below lay a Sea of Malignance capable of felling high-grade wizards.

Standing on the restored ground, he exhaled a long breath.

Still uneasy, he drew several high-quality energy crystals from his spatial storage and ground them to dust.

Using them as a base, he expended all his true essence to craft a spell specifically for stabilizing malignance.

“Go!” He cast the spell, forged from his entire reserve of true essence, into the “trace point” he’d resealed.

The spell sank into the earth like an invisible nail, anchoring the area.

Jie Ming knew this spell alone couldn’t suppress the vast Sea of Malignance below.

But combined with the thick earth seal he’d created and the initial seal at the entrance, it could at least temporarily calm the malignance in this small area, preventing it from leaking out.

If the malignance erupted elsewhere, that wasn’t his concern.

As long as it didn’t erupt in his area, exposing his unauthorized exploration, he was in the clear.

The wizard legion might notice anomalies, but that had nothing to do with him.

After tying up all loose ends, Jie Ming adjusted his mindset.

He returned nonchalantly to a relatively safe outpost, logged his mission briefly, and used the internal teleportation array to return to the main wizard camp.

Emerging from the array, the familiar chaotic energy flow hit him, a stark contrast to the icy chill of the Frostflame Plane.

Back at his dormitory, Jie Ming checked his magical network terminal and found an unanswered call request due to poor signal.

It was from his mentor, Clark.

“Uh…” Jie Ming scratched his head.

He’d turned off his terminal in the Frostflame Plane for secrecy and hadn’t expected a call.

He figured if Clark couldn’t reach him, he’d likely contact Senior Sister Viola.

Cross-plane communication relied on the camp’s costly system.

Rather than pay for an expensive call, it made more sense to visit Viola’s lab.

Having cleared an entire snow monster city and gathered intelligence, he could discuss that too.

Decided, Jie Ming headed to Viola’s lab in the camp’s core, at the topmost level.

At the lab door, he knocked lightly.

The door slid open silently, revealing a pristine, spacious interior.

Viola sat in her armchair, holding a cup of deep blue liquid, her posture as impeccable as ever.

She looked up at Jie Ming, her ice-blue eyes deep and calm, as if she could see through everything.

Yet, the moment their eyes met, Jie Ming felt an instinctive discomfort.

Despite his experience with grand spectacles, something in her gaze—neither simple concern nor mere appreciation—unsettled him.

It was as if a biologist were observing a rare, uniquely gifted specimen in a critical growth phase.

This scrutiny made every cell in his body subtly resist.

“Rushing to see me right after returning—you must have had quite a ‘harvest’ in the Frostflame Plane,” Viola said softly, a faint smile in her voice.

“You jest, Senior Sister,” Jie Ming sighed inwardly, forcing a tired smile. “I saw Mentor tried to contact me, but the signal was too weak in the Frostflame Plane. I figured if he reached out to me, he’d likely contact you too.”

“Clark did contact me,” Viola nodded, setting down her cup and gesturing for him to sit. “He asked about you and mentioned some significant changes in the plane.”

They began discussing Clark’s message.

“This situation is concerning,” Jie Ming said, his brow furrowing with a hint of gravity.

“Moving both forces simultaneously, and withdrawing such high-level combat power on this scale—it’s obvious there’s a hidden agenda. But with our top forces and escape route gone, even if we can overpower the enemy, it’s far from safe.”

“Lord Augustine must know what’s happening on the Frostflame Plane. Making such a move now feels… ill-advised.”

Jie Ming paused, choosing a diplomatic term, though he’d nearly called Augustine an idiot.

In his view, even the most passive response—holding the line until the enemy moved—was better than rushing off for reinforcements. At least survive the current wave first!

Surprisingly, Viola remained calm, her face showing a peculiar “excitement.”

“Since Mentor Clark sent the message, the decision to retrieve reinforcements is likely set,” she said. “Don’t be so resentful. High-grade wizards operate on a different level, with access to information we don’t have. Their seemingly strange actions may have deeper reasons.”

Jie Ming considered this, then shook his head regretfully.

With the information he had, he couldn’t see any good reason for this move.

At best, he could guess Augustine might be luring the enemy, using the camp’s wizards as bait to provoke a full-scale attack from the Frostflame Plane’s natives.

But even that theory had flaws, especially given the chaotic time flow.

The Frostflame Plane’s outer time flow was far more erratic than normal; a second’s delay could equate to days.

Viola’s reminder made him realize, though, that high-grade wizards weren’t fools. Augustine must have his reasons.

“Sigh… I just hope this wizard isn’t too ruthless, or we wizards staying here will be in grave danger.”

“A crisis, yes, but also an opportunity,” Viola said, stroking her pale chin, her gaze piercing the window as if envisioning the blood-soaked future of the Frostflame Plane.

“You’re right. The battles ahead will be far bloodier,” she said softly, her tone devoid of worry, instead tinged with eagerness.

After a moment, she snapped back to reality. “But the risk is manageable. The three deputy commanders, all fifth-grade wizards, will stay.”

This eased Jie Ming’s unease slightly.

Three fifth-grade wizards together could handle most crises.

“But I’m a bit surprised,” Viola said, her eyes turning to Jie Ming with a playful scrutiny. “Hearing about such a major strategic shift, with Lord Augustine about to leave the ship plane, you’re not planning to leave with it? That would be the safest way to avoid danger.”

Jie Ming glanced at her, not answering directly. “I have many reasons to stay. But your reason for staying, Senior Sister, is quite straightforward.”

His tone was calm, but his words cut like a blade, exposing Viola’s true nature. “You’re staying to witness, up close, the pain of wizards in the coming brutal battles, aren’t you?”

Viola’s smile didn’t falter; it grew brighter.

“Hehe…” Her laugh was like clinking ice crystals, crisp yet chilling.

“You saw right through me,” she admitted without hesitation, even showing a hint of pride. “Exactly. The extreme bloodshed, wizards struggling for survival in despair and pain, the sparks bursting from their souls—that’s one of the ‘artworks’ I most wish to witness in my life.”

Seeing Viola’s unapologetic, almost proud sickness, Jie Ming sighed deeply.

“I’m starting to suspect your intentions when we first met…”

“Oh? Found out, did you?” Viola’s silver-gray eyes gleamed with an indescribable light.

“Seriously?” Jie Ming’s face twitched.

Viola tilted her head. “Of course. When you showed that potion, I knew you weren’t like those two kids, so I decided to help you…”

Jie Ming felt he was beginning to grasp her logic, covering his face. “So… you wanted to see Amy and the others’ pain when they realized their shortcomings and parted from me?”

“You’re quite sharp!”

Jie Ming shook his head, his eyes filled with genuine helplessness.

“Senior Sister, your character… is truly deplorable,” he remarked.

Yet, hearing his judgment, Viola took it not as shame but as pride.

She even stood slightly, as if displaying a priceless treasure, her voice thick with pride. “My honor.”

Jie Ming shook his head, saying no more.

He knew debating morality with her was pointless.

After all, despite her love for observing pain, Viola had never truly harmed other wizards’ interests.

In a way, she’d been quite supportive of him.

In this context, Jie Ming had no standing to criticize her personal quirks.

Or perhaps, the conflicted feelings of those who knew her true nature were another form of pain she sought…

“Thank you for the update, Senior Sister. I have matters to attend to. I’ll take my leave.”

Jie Ming stood, nodded slightly to Viola, and left her laboratory.

Can’t deal with her—time to go!

The metal door closed silently behind him, shutting out Viola’s morbidly satisfied smile.