I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality

On the way to the central command center of the camp, Jie Ming clearly sensed that the surrounding atmosphere was somehow different.

The wizards he encountered along the path, whether those hurrying toward the front lines or those inspecting wizard artifacts inside temporary workshops, all had gazes that would, intentionally or otherwise, linger on him for a few extra moments.

Those looks carried no hostility. Instead, they were a mixture of curiosity, scrutiny, awe, and… a certain indescribable gossipy flavor.

He could even vaguely catch fragments of subtle, encrypted mental fluctuations drifting through the air—clear evidence that private conversations about him were taking place.

Jie Ming frowned slightly.

He wasn’t accustomed to this level of attention, especially right after suffering such grave injuries.

“Don’t mind it,” Viola beside him seemed to read his thoughts. The corner of her mouth curved in faint amusement as she lowered her voice.

“You’re quite ‘famous’ now, junior brother. Single-handedly counter-killing three sixth-ring powerhouses including the 【Annihilation Hand】, and then, while heavily wounded, finishing off the Chaos Secret Cult’s poster boy ‘Holy Son’… with a combat record like that, it would be strange if you didn’t attract attention.”

“Although the command hasn’t issued an official announcement yet, they’re probably still doing final verification and tactical value assessment, the wizards have their own information channels. Especially in a forward camp like this, the smallest rumor spreads like wildfire.”

“So that’s how it is… as if!” Jie Ming shot a glance at his senior sister. “You must have been bragging way too much!”

Far from looking ashamed, Viola put on an expression of open pride. “Oh come on, it was nothing, nothing at all. I didn’t really help that much…”

Jie Ming sighed, but he also understood that, for a wizard, this was actually not a bad thing.

In fact, even he himself didn’t truly consider it bad; the earlier discomfort had merely been an instinctive reaction.

After all, wizards were fundamentally “scholars.” Whether for academic exchange or for selling one’s products, having a certain degree of renown was far better than remaining obscure.

A trace of curiosity rose in him.

In the wizard world, remarkable combat achievements often gave birth to corresponding “titles.” This was practically an unwritten rule.

“So… do I have a title now?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of probing.

Although hearing others called things like “Holy Son,” “Martial God,” or “Annihilation Hand” always felt a bit chuuni…

When it came to himself… it actually seemed… kind of nice?

Viola’s silver-gray eyes flashed with obvious mischief.

She deliberately looked Jie Ming up and down before slowly drawling, “A title? Not yet, unfortunately.”

“Hm?” Jie Ming was taken aback.

“Titles aren’t handed out casually,” Viola explained. “They usually stem from a wizard’s most distinctive trait—perhaps the laws they specialize in, their signature sorcery, their main research direction, or even their unique style of doing things. Like my ‘Pain,’ or the ‘Annihilation Hand’ you killed.”

She spread her hands, her smile deepening. “But you, my dear junior brother? Your moves are far too ‘clean.’ So far, almost none of the enemies who’ve witnessed you going all-out have lived to tell the tale.”

“The deepest impression the colleagues in camp have of you, apart from those horrifying combat rumors, is probably the sight of you being carried back like some precious, fragile treasure by dozens of pitch-black, ferocious black giants, handled with the utmost care.”

She leaned closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You wouldn’t want your title to be tied to that kind of ‘triumphant return,’ would you? Something like… ‘Lord of the Black Coffin’? ‘Palanquin Bearer’? Or more bluntly—‘The One Who Was Carried Back’? Actually… there’s already a bit of that trend circulating in camp lately…”

Hearing Viola’s words, Jie Ming’s expression froze.

Come to think of it, the way he returned to camp last time really hadn’t been very dignified.

Good grief—if his eventual title ended up being something like “Black Pallbearer”…

An image from his previous life suddenly flashed through Jie Ming’s mind: that video of a certain professional black team. He couldn’t help but shudder.

Compared to all that, the plain and unpretentious name “Jie Ming” felt practically heavenly!

“…I think just using my original name is perfectly fine,” he said dryly.

“Hahahaha!” Viola burst into laughter, clearly very pleased with his reaction.

After she finished laughing, her expression grew slightly more serious.

“Actually, not having a fixed title can—in certain cases—be an even greater honor.”

“Oh?” Jie Ming became interested.

“It means that when people mention your ‘name,’ everyone automatically understands they’re referring to you personally—no prefix or suffix needed to distinguish you.” A faint yearning appeared in Viola’s eyes. “That’s rarer than having an exclusive title. It signifies that your very existence already possesses sufficient ‘uniqueness’ and ‘recognizability.’”

At this point Viola winked at Jie Ming. “For example… our mentor doesn’t have a title either…”

Jie Ming listened with growing fascination. “So what does it take to reach that level… of ‘manifesting in the world under one’s true name’?”

“Simple.”

A calm yet extremely penetrating voice came from behind the two of them.

Jie Ming and Viola turned at the same time to see Mentor Clark had somehow appeared a few steps behind them—still clad in his gray robe, expression indifferent, as though the remark just now hadn’t come from him at all.

“Mentor.” The two quickly greeted him.

Clark gave a slight nod, not pausing his steps. He naturally walked ahead of them, leading the way toward the heavily guarded command center entrance shrouded in multiple layers of barrier light.

His mere presence seemed to serve as the highest-level pass. The construct sentries and the wizards responsible for security checks at the door only briefly verified his identity fluctuation before respectfully stepping aside—allowing Jie Ming and Viola to bypass the cumbersome inspection procedures as well.

As they passed through security, Clark continued the earlier topic in his characteristically flat, matter-of-fact tone:

“There are generally two ways to keep one’s true name permanently.”

“First.” He raised his index finger. “Against opponents of the same level—or even higher—never display any distinct, classifiable ‘characteristic’ ability. Your sorcery is simply inexplicably stronger, your defense inexplicably tougher, your speed inexplicably faster.”

“Your technical principles and implementation methods exceed the comprehension of both your opponents and onlookers. Even if they witness it with their own eyes, they cannot analyze, cannot imitate, cannot define it. Over time, your ‘title’ remains perpetually undecided. People can only use your real name to refer to that ‘indefinable mighty existence.’”

Jie Ming carefully savored these words. The more he thought about it… the more absurdly difficult it sounded!

This demanded an all-round, zero-weakness crushing superiority, plus a completely self-contained and utterly unique technical system that others simply could not deconstruct.

This was no longer just a matter of raw power—it was the ultimate manifestation of the uniqueness of one’s path and the depth of one’s knowledge.

“Then… what about the second method?” Viola asked on Jie Ming’s behalf. She was curious too.

Clark’s steps paused slightly in the wide corridor of the command center. He turned his head, and the corners of his mouth seemed to lift in an almost imperceptible arc.

That could hardly be called a smile, yet it inexplicably sent a chill through both Jie Ming and Viola.

“The second is relatively ‘simpler.’” Clark’s voice remained steady. “Always operate solo, and… ensure that every enemy who has seen you act can never speak again.”

He paused, then added, “Of course, as the number of enemies you face increases and their strength grows, achieving total annihilation becomes exponentially more difficult. However…”

He looked toward Jie Ming again, his gray eyes calm as an ancient well. “I personally suggest attempting a combination of the first and second methods. That way, the chances of retaining your true name become significantly higher.”

Jie Ming and Viola exchanged glances, momentarily at a loss for words.

No matter how one looked at it, neither of these paths could be considered “conventional.” Both carried an unsettling, almost hair-raising extremism.

In plain terms—this was simply not a route ordinary wizards could even consider!

By the time their conversation ended, they had reached the core area of the command center.

The space here was vast, with a towering curved dome projecting soft bluish light.

At the center stood an enormous three-dimensional tactical sandbox. Countless points of light flowed across its surface, representing the troop deployments and reconnaissance dynamics of both sides.

The surrounding walls were covered with massive real-time monitoring screens displaying energy readings, spatial fluctuations, and localized combat footage from various theaters.

A low hum filled the air, interwoven with dense waves of mental commands. Busy wizards and constructs moved back and forth; the atmosphere was tense yet orderly.

Clark gave them a brief gesture before walking toward Dionysius Spencer, who was currently engaged in low-voiced discussion with several high-ring wizards beside the sandbox.

Jie Ming, following protocol, headed to the mission reception counter on the side.

A more delicately crafted silver construct doll received him.

After verifying his identity and confirming that his injuries had recovered to a level permitting mission execution, the construct projected a list of available reconnaissance tasks before him.

Jie Ming quickly scanned through them, his gaze finally settling on the huge strategic situation map displayed on the central main screen.

Just as Viola had said earlier, between the blue area representing the Noren workshops and the red area representing the enemy coalition (Chaos Secret Cult and Tower of Annihilation), most of the vast “midfield” zone was now marked in varying shades of green.

This indicated that these areas had already undergone reconnaissance to differing degrees; risk levels were relatively manageable.

Only deep in the enemy’s red territory did large swathes of glaring, unexplored deep-crimson blocks remain—interlocking jaggedly with patches of pale green like an incomplete, hazardous jigsaw puzzle.

“This is the one.” Jie Ming made up his mind and selected a long-term reconnaissance mission pointing toward the edge of that deep-crimson region.

The task required continuous monitoring of abnormal energy readings, signs of troop movement, and—where possible—uncovering any hidden secondary bases or high-ring wizard activity trajectories in the enemy rear.

The risk rating was quite high, but the corresponding military merit reward was exceptionally generous.

After accepting the mission, confirming the operation codename and emergency contact channel, Jie Ming nodded toward Viola and the distant Mentor Clark before turning to leave through the command center exit.

His thoughts were still immersed in Clark’s discourse on “true names” and in deducing and integrating his newly acquired techniques.

However, the instant he stepped through the thick metal doors of the command center, an extremely faint sensation—so faint it was almost instinctual—quietly brushed across his mind.

Like an almost invisible ripple spreading across still water, or the unnatural deviation in the falling trajectory of a single mote of dust in the air.

If his soul hadn’t just been reforged, greatly sharpening his perception, and if the Body Forging Method hadn’t granted him abnormal sensitivity to the harmonious state between himself and his environment, he likely wouldn’t have noticed it at all.

He halted, brows furrowing slightly as he stood in place.

His gaze appeared to sweep casually across the wizards coming and going in the corridor, the busy constructs, and the flowing rune-light on the walls.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Yet that feeling of being “brushed against” by something at extremely close range refused to dissipate.

Fortunately, after experiencing so much, Jie Ming was quite familiar with this kind of sensation.

He quietly circulated the Body Forging Method, repeatedly tracing the origin of that discordant feeling.

One second. Two seconds…

Finally, propelled by the adaptive evolution of the Body Forging Method, Jie Ming’s perception abruptly broke through a certain threshold.

An exceedingly delicate “veil,” thin as a cicada’s wing, that had been draped over the boundary of his perception revealed the tiniest, almost negligible “crease.”

Jie Ming’s eyes snapped open. His gaze flashed like lightning, locking precisely onto the seemingly empty space right beside him.

“Come out, Black,” he said calmly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried absolute certainty.

The air seemed to ripple, as though heat haze had distorted the view.

In the next instant, a slender figure stepped out as if from behind a curtain of water—shifting rapidly from blur to sharp clarity.

It was a male wizard who appeared roughly the same age as Jie Ming. His complexion was pale and handsome, carrying the delicate, yin-soft quality of someone long deprived of sunlight. His short black hair was meticulously combed.

At this moment, Black’s eyes were wide open, pupils filled with unconcealable astonishment—even… terror.

Bill·Ling·Black.

The soul-path genius who entered Noren Academy in the same cohort as Jie Ming, and his important partner in selling liquid gold.

“Jie… Jie Ming?” Black’s voice cracked slightly. He instinctively took half a step back, deep-purple pupils contracting. “How… how did you notice me?”

It was no wonder Black was so frightened.

His “Presence Obscuration” was his core ability, a fusion of soul suggestion, optical refraction, aura elimination, and even faint interference with time perception.

Not to mention peers—even against wizards two circles above him, very few could see through it.

To put it bluntly, for a soul-path wizard specializing in intelligence gathering and infiltration, this technique was the very foundation of his survival.

To be exposed so easily felt, to him, like having his most lethal weakness laid bare in the open—which meant that the moment he was seen through, his life and death had fallen entirely into the other party’s hands.

Looking at Black’s ghostly expression, Jie Ming found it somewhat amusing. The faint irritation he’d felt at being shadowed mostly dissipated.

“Your technique really has improved tremendously since back then—almost flawless,” he said honestly. “But I’ve also gotten a little stronger.”

Black’s expression flickered. Several times he opened his mouth only to close it again. Eventually he forcibly suppressed the panic of being exposed and squeezed out a somewhat awkward smile.

“As expected of someone who could kill the 【Annihilation Hand】 and the ‘Holy Son’… it seems the rumors are true.”

He quickly changed the subject, apparently eager to escape the earlier embarrassment. “I saw you accepted a reconnaissance mission too? Judging by the direction, you’re planning to head into the red zone (enemy-controlled area) rear?”

“That’s right,” Jie Ming nodded, not hiding it.

Black’s eyes lit up slightly. He took a step forward, voice lowering as he spoke in a consultative tone. “How about… a temporary cooperation?”

Jie Ming was a little curious.

Not curious about how Black—as a fourth-ring wizard—could accept a scouting mission. As a soul-path specialist, that was precisely his field; the acceptance criteria for such tasks were naturally different from those for regular wizards.

What he was curious about was that, given the abilities of soul-path wizards, they generally weren’t suited to cooperating with others.

Seeing Jie Ming’s questioning look, Black understood his thoughts and immediately explained:

“Not traveling together as a team. Our combat styles and scouting methods are too different; forcing us to stick close would only hinder each other.”

“What I mean is—while staying within mutual support and emergency-response range, we each operate independently and advance in parallel. This way we can expand search coverage, increase efficiency, and still have backup if we encounter strong enemies—at the very least we can warn each other or cover a retreat.”

He paused, then added the most crucial point—benefit distribution: “As for the intelligence we gather and the military merit earned from it, we split it fifty-fifty. How about it?”

Jie Ming didn’t answer immediately. He quickly weighed the pros and cons.

Black was a professional soul-path wizard. Even at fourth-ring, his scouting range would definitely surpass that of Jie Ming—a fifth-ring wizard whose knowledge accumulation was… less than ideal.

More importantly, though Black’s personality was somewhat gloomy, as a partner his credibility and competence had already been proven.

“Fine.” Jie Ming made his decision and extended his hand. “Happy cooperation, Black.”

Black seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. A trace of genuine smile appeared on his pale face as he reached out to shake Jie Ming’s hand. “Happy cooperation, Jie Ming. I hope we both return with a full harvest this time.”

The personal terminal on his wrist flashed faintly. He had already sent Jie Ming an encrypted short message along with a temporary contact channel code embedded with a spiritual marker.

The two briefly exchanged preliminary action route ideas and emergency response code phrases, then made no further small talk.

Black’s figure was the first to blur—like a drop of ink melting into the background—before vanishing silently.

His “Presence Obscuration” had taken effect once again. But this time, Jie Ming could faintly sense an extremely tenuous “anchor point” moving in roughly the agreed-upon direction.

Jie Ming didn’t linger either. After orienting himself, an invisible force lifted him, carrying him swiftly toward the camp’s perimeter.