I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality

Fifty years passed in the blink of an eye amidst focused research.

In the laboratory, Jie Ming gently set down the scalpel, lightly stained with biological tissue fluid.

On the operating table before him, a sample of a “Wind Howl Winged Beast” from the Void Plane, its structure as intricate as a natural aircraft, had been thoroughly dissected and analyzed.

His expression remained calm, as if he had merely completed a routine task, his fingers swiftly tapping on the nearby light screen to archive the final batch of data on its neural cords and energy vesicle coupling structure.

As the last piece of information was recorded, he deftly activated the cleaning array.

A gentle glow swept over, instantly restoring the operating table and all tools to pristine condition, with all biological residues broken down into fundamental particles.

Removing his heavy multifunctional protective suit, Jie Ming walked to the observation window, gazing at the eternally unchanging crimson sky of the Infernal Sulfur Plane, letting out a helpless sigh.

Fifty years buried in the laboratory, systematically studying the samples brought back from the Void Plane in order of structural complexity, from simple to intricate.

Yet, progress was far from ideal.

In fifty years, he had only completed one-fifth of the planned research.

“The speed of research will always lag far behind the desire to collect,” Jie Ming rubbed his temples.

Dissection, analysis, recording, deduction… every step required time.

Especially when dealing with rare creatures with complex structures and unique rule-based powers, extreme caution was necessary.

He roughly estimated that thoroughly studying all the samples collected from the Void Plane would require at least another three hundred years of continuous effort.

And that was just the regular haul from the Void Plane.

Beyond that, there was the mutated spider-snake with spatial talents and the mysterious white mist, highly valued even by seventh-grade wizards.

Researching these would demand an unimaginable amount of time.

Just thinking about it, Jie Ming felt the road ahead was long, yet filled with the allure of exploration.

He left the main laboratory and arrived at a specially modified large-scale ecological cultivation chamber within the plane.

Through the thick observation window, he could see thousands of ordinary spider-snakes in a simulated zero-gravity environment, clustering together as if following some ancient ritual, forming a slowly rotating biological sphere nearly a hundred meters in diameter.

This was a common behavior in their native Void Plane, used to conserve heat and counter threats.

In an adjacent unit, sealed tightly by layers of spatial confinement arrays, the unique mutated spider-snake restlessly prowled, its surface rippling with faint spatial fluctuations.

Through preliminary experiments, Jie Ming had discovered that this mutated spider-snake acted as the “leader” of its group, its pheromones exerting powerful control over ordinary spider-snakes.

He hypothesized that, without the leader’s pheromonal suppression and guidance for an extended period, the ordinary spider-snake population might, under survival pressure, spontaneously produce new mutated individuals.

Thus, he isolated it, both to study its mutation mechanisms in depth and to potentially “stimulate” more valuable mutated samples to enrich his research materials.

After checking the spider-snakes’ conditions and confirming the stability of the other critical sample storage environments, Jie Ming contacted the head of Noren Workshop’s plane transformation engineering team—a steady sixth-grade wizard—via a communication array.

“Wizard Jie Ming, long time no see. It’s rare for you to reach out,” the sixth-grade wizard’s figure appeared on the screen, with a group of wizards installing a large-scale array in the background.

Jie Ming nodded in greeting. “Just been busy, so I haven’t been in touch much… How’s the project going?”

“Quite well, everything’s on track.” The sixth-grade wizard gestured, and a detailed project progress report was sent to Jie Ming’s screen.

“The second phase of infrastructure construction is fully complete. The third phase, the energy collection and distribution system, is about thirty percent done, on schedule. We expect full completion in another fifty years.”

Jie Ming was satisfied with this pace. “That’s fast. Thanks for your efforts.”

“It’s our duty.”

After ending the communication, Jie Ming began planning his next steps.

Fifty years was a wait he could afford.

By then, the long-standing energy issue with the incubation pool would be fundamentally resolved, and the cultivation of the next generation of Black Giants, along with other energy-intensive research, could be prioritized.

Just as he was about to return to the laboratory to “relax” his tense research nerves by reading the complex seventh-grade elemental pool materials, his encrypted communicator emitted a soft glow.

Surprised, Jie Ming connected the call.

A light screen unfolded, revealing the familiar, authoritative face of Dean Avery Knight.

“Jie Ming, it’s been a while. Looks like you’ve made significant gains,” the dean’s gaze seemed to pierce through the screen, sensing the increasingly profound aura emanating from Jie Ming.

“Dean Avery Knight… judging by your demeanor, the war must have gone quite well?”

At this, Dean Avery Knight couldn’t help but show a satisfied smile. “Indeed, that plane yielded a massive harvest. Over a dozen eighth-grade innate divine beings alone. My lab won’t lack research materials for a long time.”

Jie Ming was secretly stunned, not expecting the plane with the Destruction Demon God to be so resource-rich.

Normally, a plane’s concentrated resources could at most produce sixth-grade beings.

To reach higher grades, one had to acquire resources from other planes.

So many eighth-grade beings, whether promoted through the plane’s own resources or plundered from others, represented a vast surplus.

Of course, for most civilizations, encountering such a civilization would be an utter disaster.

Only the wizard civilization, with its absurd power, allowed a seventh-grade wizard to not only fight above their level but take on multiple opponents.

Dean Avery Knight was very pleased with the results of his first plane expedition since taking office. “We’ve successfully integrated that plane into the Elosia Plane Cluster. Next, it’s just a matter of spending time on its transformation.”

After some pleasantries, Dean Avery got to the point. “After years of continuous, subtle aptitude modification and genetic optimization of Elosia’s native humans, we’re finally seeing a stable emergence of individuals meeting the minimum wizard qualifications.”

Jie Ming was taken aback. This meant that the preparations for Noren Wizard Academy No. 147, established on the Elosia Plane, were entering their final phase.

Dean Avery continued, “In ten years, the academy will officially open and admit its first batch of native students.”

“As a newly founded academy, we’re in dire need of experienced and capable instructors.” Dean Avery’s gaze carried expectation. “Jie Ming, I hope you’ll join us as a teacher.”

Jie Ming hesitated. “Thank you for your trust, Dean, but… my strength might not be quite suitable.”

His research schedule was packed, and the plane transformation was ongoing. Teaching would undoubtedly consume significant time and energy.

“No matter. Your experiences will be invaluable to the new generation of wizard apprentices,” Dean Avery replied, sensing Jie Ming’s reluctance but not pressing further. Instead, he detailed the benefits of being an academy instructor.

“Considering that teaching duties for low-grade wizards can significantly impact their exploration, research, and rest,” the dean explained, “as compensation, the academy stipulates that low-grade wizards serving as instructors can have their standard plane war rest period doubled.”

Jie Ming’s stance shifted immediately.

This meant his original two-hundred-year rest period could extend to four hundred years if he took the teaching role!

This condition was irresistibly appealing.

For him now, the direct benefits of plane expeditions were less valuable than his research and knowledge accumulation.

What he urgently needed was long, uninterrupted periods to digest his gains, deepen his research, and improve himself. Google seaʀᴄh NoveI[F]ire.net

A four-hundred-year rest period was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

“Thank you for your trust, Dean. I’m willing to take on the teaching role,” Jie Ming agreed solemnly, no longer hesitating.

Dean Avery smiled with satisfaction and added, “One more thing. The reward I promised you for the discoveries in that plane—the remaining nine strands of plane origin—are ready. They’ll be sent through an encrypted channel shortly. Keep an eye out.”

Jie Ming’s heart stirred, and he expressed his gratitude again.

Shortly after the call ended, the Infernal Sulfur Plane’s teleportation array received an item transfer request.

After verifying permissions and safety, nine crystal vials emitting a soft, radiant glow appeared steadily on the receiving platform.

Within the vials, nine strands of plane origin, condensed like liquid light, flowed slowly, exuding a heart-palpitating aura.

Jie Ming carefully stored them alongside the twenty strands he had previously acquired.

Looking at the twenty-nine strands of resplendent plane origin gathered in his storage space, even Jie Ming, accustomed to grand sights, couldn’t help but marvel.

“Such a quantity of origin… even a sixth-rank wizard would struggle to produce this much in one go,” he murmured.

Though his military merit savings had dwindled to just over a hundred million due to plane transformation and research expenses, Jie Ming had no intention of selling these origins for profit.

In his plans, these origins had far greater uses—not only as precious resources for breaking through to higher realms but also as a top-tier universal currency.

Their value was stable, akin to gold reserves in the mortal world, capable of securing rare resources or knowledge that military merits couldn’t measure in critical moments.