I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality

Viola naturally noticed her friend’s abnormality at once.

She stood up, frowning as she asked, “Starfall? What’s wrong with you? You look like your soul’s about to fall apart. Even if the Star Ring Federation didn’t agree, or threw out some harsh conditions, it shouldn’t hit you this hard, right?”

Viola’s words seemed to snap Starfall out of a dream.

The Wizard Starfall slowly lifted her head. She looked at Viola, then at Jie Ming and Clark.

A complex expression surfaced on her face—one mixed with bewilderment, shock, wild joy, and a trace of utter helplessness.

“No… it’s not that they didn’t agree…” Starfall’s voice was somewhat dry, carrying that ethereal echo, yet unable to hide the tremor within. “The Star Ring Federation side… has agreed. As long as the ‘little one’ is willing and able to successfully sign the contract, we can officially impart basic wizard knowledge to it and accept it as a special member of wizard civilization.”

“That’s tremendous news!” Viola was puzzled. “Then why do you look like your soul’s flown away? You scared us half to death.”

Wizard Starfall took a deep breath, as though trying hard to steady her emotions. Then, in an almost dreamlike murmur, she said:

“The one who contacted me… wasn’t an ordinary reviewer or high-ring wizard…”

She paused. Each word came out with unusual clarity, as though she herself could scarcely believe it:

“It was ‘Felix.’ The central controlling artificial intelligence of the Star Ring Federation’s magic terminal, Felix,personally handled and processed this application.”

“What?!”

This time, the simultaneous gasps came from both Viola and Jie Ming.

The two of them stood up almost at the same instant, faces filled with pure astonishment.

The Star Ring Federation, as one of the four great powers of wizard civilization, commanded vast territories. The number of planes, civilizations, and wizard organizations under its rule was beyond counting. The volume of information and affairs it handled every day was like grains of sand in the Ganges.

Thus, the one maintaining normal operation of the Federation terminal and processing the vast majority of routine matters was an unimaginably powerful artificial intelligence cluster system. Its core consciousness was named “Felix.”

Under normal circumstances, something as “routine” as reviewing whether a special individual could join wizard civilization would never require disturbing Felix’s main consciousness. Dispersed computational sub-programs would handle it.

Felix’s main body only dealt with matters that truly concerned the Federation’s grand strategy, the direction of civilization, or those involving extremely high clearance and resources.

Back when Jie Ming, thanks to his “Self-Stabilizing Domain Regulation Protocol” technology, had been granted the opportunity to speak directly with one of Felix’s advanced sub-programs to finalize transaction details—that had already been the highest level of official entity he had ever contacted.

And it was precisely that transaction that now brought him a steady annual share of over one hundred million low-grade military merits.

But even a situation like that seemed insufficient to cause Starfall to lose composure to this degree.

Merely being personally received by Felix shouldn’t make a mentally resolute, peak sixth-ring wizard who had just validated her own theory become so… unmoored, right?

Viola and Jie Ming exchanged a glance. Both saw the confusion—and even deeper curiosity—in each other’s eyes.

Viola couldn’t help but press: “And then? Besides agreeing, what else did His Excellency Felix say?”

Wizard Starfall tugged at the corners of her mouth, attempting a smile.

But that smile looked impossibly stiff. She looked at her close friend, then at Jie Ming whose face was full of thirst for knowledge, and finally at the ever-calm Mentor Clark. In a tone as solemn as though she were proclaiming a universal truth, she enunciated each word:

“His Excellency Felix… on behalf of the Star Ring Federation’s Highest Deliberation Council, has formally notified me…”

She paused, as though she needed to gather strength to speak the next part:

“I, Starfall, in recognition of my pioneering and paradigm-shattering contributions in the fields of ‘Plane Activation Theory and High-Rank Application of Spiritual Laws,’ as well as ‘Expanding the Scope of Acceptance for Wizard Civilization and the Model of Strategic Force Composition,’ have been awarded…”

“The Star Ring Federation Level-One Cultivation Protocol!”

Silence.

A deathly stillness.

Except for Mentor Clark, who seemed to have anticipated this long ago and continued calmly sipping his hot drink without any change in expression.

Jie Ming and Viola stood frozen like statues, eyes wide and round, breathing seemingly suspended.

Several seconds later…

“Hiss!!!”

Both of them sucked in a breath at nearly the same moment!

That inhalation was so long it seemed as though the two of them wanted to draw every last bit of air inside the warship into their lungs.

Level-One Cultivation Protocol!!!

Jie Ming was no longer the ignorant apprentice who once knew nothing of the upper echelons of wizard civilization.

He had long since come to understand the Star Ring Federation’s system for nurturing and supporting internal genius wizards.

The lowest tier—“Level-Three Cultivation Protocol”—was actually the basic welfare every formal wizard enjoyed: access to corresponding levels of the knowledge repository, protection of personal research from easy plundering, and basic civilizational shelter.

It was practically a universal “benefit.”

The “Level-Two Cultivation Protocol” was special treatment granted to those “genius seeds” deemed to have enormous potential to advance to high-ring status (usually seventh-ring and above).

Jie Ming himself, during his wizard apprentice phase, had once obtained a Level-Two protocol because of the outstanding potential he demonstrated with the fifth-ring material Adamantine.

Its main provisions included broader access to knowledge, more favorable resource exchange ratios, and a certain degree of research freedom plus market preferences.

It was more like a form of “recognition” and “convenience”—providing platforms and opportunities rather than direct resource pouring.

But the “Level-One Cultivation Protocol”…

That was an entirely different level of concept!

It was granted only to those peerless figures whom the Federation’s highest echelons judged capable—through their research, their path, their very existence—of propelling the overall strength of wizard civilization to undergo a “step-change” leap!

What did obtaining a Level-One protocol mean?

It meant that every year, an enormous sum of “unconditional research funding”—enough to make most eighth-ring wizards green with envy—would be directly allocated by the Federation!

It meant that if one was willing to hand over part or all of their research to the Federation, the compensation received would be so lavish it defied imagination—even surpassed imagination.

It meant that almost the entire resource vault of the Star Ring Federation would be thrown wide open to you!

Any rare material you needed, any special environment, any forbidden knowledge clearance—even things you had never heard of…

As long as it existed and did not touch the core taboos, the Federation would unconditionally do everything in its power to coordinate and supply it!

Even if it did touch core taboos, negotiation was possible!

Moreover, if the required resources were unique holdings of the other supreme powers—such as the Crimson Court, Void Architecture Academy, and so on—Felix would personally step in to attempt coordination and exchange!

This was a direct express ticket to the true pinnacle of wizard civilization!

It was the symbol of resources, authority, status, and infinite possibility!

If a Level-Two Cultivation Protocol was an entry ticket to high-ring wizardry that ninety-nine percent of ordinary wizards could never obtain, then a Level-One Cultivation Protocol was a “privilege” that ninety-nine percent of eighth-ring wizards could not even imagine!

Jie Ming’s mind raced. After the initial shock passed and he thought it over carefully, he suddenly realized that Wizard Starfall receiving a Level-One Cultivation Protocol seemed… entirely reasonable, even entirely to be expected!

What were her contributions?

It wasn’t merely succeeding in activating a plane and validating a path for high-rank application of spiritual laws.

What was far more critical was the idea she proposed afterward—allowing a living plane to become a wizard!

What did that mean?

The innate terror of a living plane lay in its incomparable “quantity” and its natural affinity with plane laws.

The amount of energy and matter a living plane could mobilize was something no individual wizard could ever hope to match, no matter how wildly they imagined.

They were often capable of cross-rank challenges precisely because of this overwhelming “scale” advantage.

A wizard’s strength, on the other hand, lay in leaps of “quality”—in using knowledge to explode limited power into thousands or tens of thousands of times its original efficacy.

Now, what would the true combat power of such a monster—a fusion of both—be?

Even just running a rough mental simulation, Jie Ming felt a wave of palpitations.

Setting aside the bizarre world-rule-altering abilities of ninth-rank beings, a seventh-ring living-plane wizard, relying on its plane-scale energy reserves combined with a wizard’s knowledge amplification, would likely be capable—in direct confrontation—of suppressing many of the weaker ninth-rank entities!

In other words, at seventh-ring, a single living plane could accomplish what normally required three eighth-ring wizards.

And if it could advance to eighth-ring, complete law solidification, and gain immunity to most rule-level distortions…

Then, with its sheer scale combined with the terrifying output multiplier an eighth-ring wizard could achieve over elements…

It might truly serve as a “standard strategic unit” capable of matching conventional ninth-rank existences!

And that was not even the endpoint.

If Starfall’s theory were perfected and the technology matured, allowing “cultivation of living-plane wizards” to become a replicable, scalable path…

Then wizard civilization would have the potential to “mass-produce” super-units possessing quasi-ninth-rank or even true ninth-rank combat power!

This was a strategic-grade breakthrough capable of altering the balance of civilizational strength and reshaping the existing of wizard powers!

Therefore, Wizard Starfall receiving a Level-One Cultivation Protocol was not a reward.

It was an investment!

It was the Star Ring Federation placing a massive bet on her—expecting her to walk this path to completion, to widen it, and to bring a step-change elevation to the entire civilization!

Having thought it all through, the look Jie Ming directed toward Wizard Starfall had already shifted from shock to deep admiration.

Viola had evidently reached similar conclusions. She opened her mouth as though to say something, but in the end simply stepped forward and wrapped Starfall’s soul in a forceful embrace.

“You crazy woman…” Viola’s voice came out muffled. “You really… poked a hole through the heavens this time.”

Only now did Wizard Starfall seem to recover slightly from that colossal impact.

She returned the hug. At last a brilliant, radiant smile appeared on her face. The previously dim light of her soul flared brightly in response.

“Yeah…” she said softly. Her gaze swept across Jie Ming and Clark, finally turning toward the void—as though she could see the Starfall Plane itself. “This time… I really seem to have poked a hole through the sky.”