Chapter 325 Noren Plane No. 147

The efficiency of wizard conferences was astonishingly high.

In stark contrast to the hours-long, multi-layered, yet ultimately vacuous meetings Jie Ming remembered from his previous life.

Wizard Noren was concise and logically clear, elucidating the purpose and initial arrangements for forming elite combat units in under ten minutes.

As Wizard Noren’s projection dissipated, the brief silence in the conference room gave way to subdued discussions.

Jie Ming had just risen when he caught Mentor Clark’s meaningful glance.

Understanding immediately, he followed Viola—who had somehow appeared at his side—out of the room.

The two trailed Mentor Clark away from the noisy conference room and back to the office filled with the peculiar scents of various alchemical materials.

“Sit.” Mentor Clark indicated the chairs nearby, then moved behind the experiment table. His gaze first settled on Jie Ming. “Your spiritual force is stable—your condition is well-maintained. I heard about your performance on the Giant Spirit Realm battlefield. Well done. It seems you haven’t slacked in accumulating knowledge.”

“Yes, Mentor.” Jie Ming responded respectfully, accepting the praise directly.

Clark nodded in approval.

He then cut to the chase, calmly supplementing details not covered in the conference. “You should have grasped the core of Lord Noren’s message. Let me brief you on the front-line situation.”

“The front lines are divided into two parts. The first-line battlefield is personally overseen by the ninth-level lords, targeting planes with ninth-level beings capable of threatening the wizard foundation.”

He paused, casually toying with an unstable energy crystal from the table, and continued. “Thus, the second-line battlefields you’ll be heading to should theoretically encounter no ninth-level existences.”

“After initial ‘combing’ by the main forces, the upper limit of remaining resistance is capped, and eighth-level wizards typically oversee rear areas to prevent extreme scenarios where an entire combat unit is instantly wiped out by unknown risks.”

Jie Ming listened intently—this aligned with his earlier deductions.

In large-scale wars, high-tier powers checked each other, leaving cleanup of lesser troops and occupation of secondary zones to mid-tier and reserve forces.

“However,” Mentor Clark’s tone sharpened, his eyes keen, “do not grow complacent. Planes marked as ‘elite trial grounds’ requiring elite combat units are all tough nuts to crack.”

“They may lack apex powerhouses, but they invariably possess unique and troublesome traits—perhaps extremely harsh, rule-warped environments; intractable curses or plagues; or native creatures with special innate talents that are exceedingly difficult to eradicate.”

“Eighth-level wizard safeguards are strategic only—they cannot, and will not, attend to every individual’s survival. Bad luck or inadequate preparation leads to death, and one can only blame their own insufficient mastery.”

“I understand, Mentor.” Jie Ming nodded solemnly.

He had long recognized war’s brutality. Relying on others’ protection for safety was the height of folly.

True strength and ample trump cards were the foundation of survival.

Seeing Jie Ming’s clear-eyed resolve, devoid of complacency or fear, Clark’s eyes flickered with subtle satisfaction.

He set down the crystal and gave a final admonition. “As elite unit members, you’ll receive superior resource quotas and higher privileges than ordinary wizards.”

“But rights come with obligations—your danger coefficient will rise accordingly. Before departure, maximize your survival capabilities, whether hard power or… those intriguing little gadgets of yours.” He glanced at Jie Ming.

“Yes, I will.” Jie Ming nodded again.

“Very well, you may go.” Clark waved dismissively, indicating Jie Ming could leave.

Jie Ming saluted and turned to depart. Just as he stepped forward, he felt his sleeve tugged discreetly.

Viola, shrinking her neck, winked and mouthed a silent plea for rescue, hoping to slip away with him.

But Mentor Clark’s low voice already rang out. “Viola.”

Viola stiffened, slowly turning with an unnatural smile. “Teacher…”

“I hear,” Mentor Clark’s expression remained impassive, yet the air seemed to thicken, “you’ve taken to calling me ‘old geezer’ outside?”

Viola’s eyes widened in shock. “How did you know?!”

She quickly recovered, shaking her head vigorously. “No! Absolutely not! You must have misheard, Teacher!”

While denying, she frantically signaled Jie Ming for support.

Jie Ming returned a helpless look, shrugged slightly, then—his expression tinged with pity—firmly closed the office door without hesitation.

In the final instant before the door shut, he glimpsed Viola’s beautiful silver-gray hair seeming to lose its luster in despair.

The door blocked sight but not all sound.

Mentor Clark’s emotionless baritone faintly carried through. “I hear you believe yourself a qualified sixth-level wizard? Come, let me see your mastery of the ‘pain’ rule.”

“Wait! Teacher! H-How do you know the pain rule?! That’s my research direction!” Viola’s voice was filled with incredulous terror. “Isn’t your primary focus fate?!”

“Something like that…” Mentor Clark’s tone was as flat as stating one plus one equals two. “I picked it up at a glance.”

“Nooooo——!!!”

Viola’s piercing scream was muffled by the thick door, yet it still made Jie Ming outside shudder involuntarily.

He silently mourned for his senior for half a second, thinking, “Senior Viola’s chances of surpassing Mentor in the short term have once again approached zero.”

It made sense. Though both he and Viola were labeled “geniuses,” hadn’t Mentor Clark climbed over countless geniuses in his day?

True powerhouses never stood still.

Ignoring the potential “tragedy” unfolding in the office, Jie Ming used the academy’s teleportation array to return directly to his laboratory in the Elosia plane.

The moment he set foot on the ground, his portable communicator vibrated.

Glancing down, it was a message from Dean Avery Knight.

Jie Ming dared not delay and hurried nonstop to Noren Academy No. 147 in the Elosia plane as instructed.

Another conference room, though much smaller in scale.

Present were no longer the mixed crowd of low-level wizards from Academy No. 13, but the senior mentors of Academy No. 147 and outstanding graduates who had achieved distinction over the centuries since its founding—the cream of Elosia’s Noren Academy.

Dean Avery Knight stood on the stage, as steady and efficient as ever.

Without pleasantries, he began. “Everyone, you’ve likely received messages from Lord Noren and your own channels. I won’t reiterate the Federation’s strategic decision to form elite combat units. Now, representing the academy, I announce two specific arrangements directly concerning those present.”

“First, all wizards selected for elite combat units are automatically relieved of regular academy duties. Your future battlefields lie among the stars, in planes requiring elites to pioneer or guard. Routine teaching and administrative tasks within the academy will no longer distract you.”

“However,” Dean Avery emphasized, “even without teaching roles, you retain mentor-level benefits. For low-level wizards, this means longer mission intervals and rest periods; for high-level wizards, shorter mandatory service or rotation cycles. Noren Academy No. 147 has operated stably for centuries—successors will maintain daily functions. Proceed without worry.”

This brought visible joy to many elite wizards who had held teaching posts, freeing them to focus on strength enhancement and challenging research without trivial burdens.

“Second,” Dean Avery continued, “after nearly a millennium of continuous transformation and construction, the Elosia plane’s ecosystem and energy density are stable and optimized. Noren Academy’s ruling foundation is solid, facilities complete.”

“Approved by the Noren Workshop’s main institute, effective immediately, the ‘Elosia plane’ is officially renamed ‘Noren Plane No. 147.’ This signifies its full integration into the core territories of our Noren Workshop system.”

The renaming seemed formal, but its implications were profound.

It marked the plane’s complete transition from pioneering to stable development and deep exploitation, with its strategic status and resource value officially certified.

After announcing these decisions, Dean Avery Knight concluded the meeting crisply and departed, leaving those in the room to digest and discuss.

Jie Ming pondered the impact of these changes on himself.

Relief from teaching duties suited him perfectly. Though in logistics, he rarely had students, it freed him to focus on managing his Infernal Sulfur plane.

This allowed undivided attention to optimizing his system in preparation for upcoming second-line battlefield missions.

The plane renaming further enhanced security and stability—his base was now more reliable.

As he rose with the crowd to leave, a somewhat familiar yet distant voice called from behind.

“Jie Ming!”

Jie Ming paused, turning around.

There stood a tall wizard in standard gray robes, his face more mature than memory, eyes still brimming with arrogance.

It was David.