I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality

Chapter 669: The Final Task and Farewell

Jie Ming’s spiritual power swept across the entire city in an instant.

The spirit mediums hidden in deep alleys, hospital wards, and the Association headquarters building were each enduring their own torment. Some clutched their heads and squatted on the ground, veins bulging at their temples. Others curled up in beds with their eyes rolled back and white foam at the corners of their mouths. Still others let out suppressed roars, clawing at their own hair as if trying to rip something out of their brains.

The stronger one’s inspiration, the more intense the reaction.

The Association’s emergency broadcast was already sounding over the city, and the wails of ambulance sirens converged from all directions like countless rivers rushing into the same sea.

Jie Ming withdrew his spiritual power, his gaze falling into his inner world cave-heaven.

The magic network terminal had lit up.

The moment his spiritual power touched the message, he sensed the distinctive presence of an eighth-ring archwizard.

Archwizard Austin had activated a highest-priority full-plane broadcast.

The content of the message was not long:

“I am Austin. The anomaly in the sky was caused by me.”

There was not even a single superfluous pleasantry at the beginning.

He then explained in detail the cause of the anomaly.

After discovering this plane, Archwizard Austin had clearly not been satisfied with treating it merely as a hunting ground for the Strange.

That eighth-ring archwizard had also learned of the Strange fusion rules Jie Ming had discovered and naturally formed his own ideas.

He intended to fuse most of the Strange in this plane and convert them into part of his own life form, using them as nourishment to push himself further.

When Jie Ming read the words “change my own life form,” his pupils contracted slightly.

Though the message was brief, Jie Ming immediately thought of one term: Dao Integration.

What Austin was doing was essentially the same as Dao Integration in the cultivation system.

By incorporating the Strange—which were themselves fragments of the world’s rules—into his own existence, he would change his life form and achieve further advancement.

The message then mentioned that the process was not without cost.

The Strange were existences deeply fused with the world’s rules.

A night Strange was one with the night itself. An ocean Strange was tightly intertwined with the ocean’s tides, currents, and even the concept of “depth.” Extracting a Strange was equivalent to pulling a bone from the plane’s body.

To fill the voids left behind, the plane’s origin would frantically spawn new Strange.

Among them… there would be no shortage of “Destruction Grade” entities!!

These newly born Strange each possessed their own rules and would be utterly devastating to the human civilization of this world.

This was also the reason Archwizard Austin had issued the announcement.

The final line of the broadcast lit up in Jie Ming’s consciousness:

“All wizards currently in this plane, from this moment onward, assist in clearing and containing these newly born Strange. You are the temporary stabilizers of this plane. As compensation, all Strange you contain shall belong to you personally.”

The magic network terminal’s light faded.

In the sky around him, in other directions and other cities, Jie Ming could sense the spiritual powers of others who had connected to the magic network terminal withdrawing at the same time.

Those sixth- and seventh-ring archwizards were probably wearing the same expression as him right now…

Excitement.

Destruction Grade Strange, and newly born from the plane’s origin at that.

Jie Ming did not know what the other wizards were thinking, but to him, such Strange were the best samples for studying Dao Integration!

Although he had obtained a large number of research samples through the Spirit Medium Association over the past ten years, let alone Destruction Grade, he had only obtained a single Disaster Grade one—the Shadow Strange from back then.

Jie Ming took a deep breath and suppressed his emotions.

His mind worked rapidly, connecting all the past information together.

No wonder Austin had only appeared as a projection when the task was completed.

The eighth-ring archwizard’s true body had never been in his private plane at all, but within the origin of this plane.

He had spent countless years there setting up the entire situation, bringing the Strange network of the entire plane under his control. Then, at this moment, he had simultaneously extracted the vast majority of the Strange power.

Jie Ming looked up at the dark purple sky.

Those slowly writhing black patterns were not flaws or pollution, but scars left behind as the plane’s origin tore and refilled itself.

Beneath every pattern, a new Strange was being born.

He suddenly thought of one question.

The reason he had been able to come to this plane was because Austin’s private plane had been infiltrated by the Strange’s rule phenomena.

Now it seemed that while that incident was probably not intentional, the subsequent developments were likely the result of this eighth-ring wizard going with the flow.

The nature of the Strange’s existence was too special.

They were like part of the world’s immune system, naturally hostile to all forces that did not belong to this world.

If Austin used his own cannon fodder units to clean up the rampaging Destruction Grade Strange, the crude application of power would trigger intense rejection from the plane, making the situation even worse.

Therefore, wizards were indeed the most suitable personnel for dealing with the Strange… Or rather, with a wizard’s wisdom and knowledge, they were the most suitable for handling anything.

From the very beginning, these wizards had been specifically recruited by Archwizard Austin to serve as stabilizers.

Having thought this through, Jie Ming slowly exhaled.

He had no complaints about this kind of calculation that benefited both sides.

His figure slowly descended from the high sky, his feet landing on the tiles of the bookstore roof with a soft sound.

Eric was still standing on the ridge, head tilted back, staring unblinkingly at the dark purple sky.

His lips were trembling slightly. His inspiration was under pressure far beyond what he could endure.

Fortunately, the Strange within Eric’s body had been carefully arranged by Jie Ming into a preliminary cycle.

His resistance to such matters had greatly increased, so he did not collapse on the spot.

Even so, a layer of cold sweat had appeared on Eric’s forehead.

“Teacher.” His voice sounded unsteady. “What exactly happened?”

Jie Ming did not answer immediately.

He jumped down from the roof, landed on the cobblestone path in front of the bookstore, pushed open the wooden door, and walked inside.

Eric followed behind, one hand steadying himself on the doorframe, his steps somewhat unsteady.

The telephone inside the bookstore was ringing.

Jie Ming picked up the receiver. Harding’s voice came from the other end.

The old man’s speech was much faster than usual, carrying unmistakable tension, but his articulation remained clear.

“Jie Ming, did you see it? The color of the sky…”

“I saw it,” Jie Ming replied flatly.

“The Association has already sent people to pick you up. The car should arrive in about twenty minutes. The president asked me to tell you that things will be chaotic outside for a while. You two are the Association’s most important researchers and cannot have any accidents. Come to headquarters first and return once the situation stabilizes.”

Jie Ming held the receiver and remained silent for a moment.

“Recently, the Strange will be very active,” his voice was not loud, but very certain. “Have your people prepare to respond. Evacuate residents from high-risk areas in advance, station more spirit mediums at critical facilities, and ensure that hospitals, power plants, water plants, and similar locations are never left unmanned.”

“The president is already arranging all that,” Harding’s voice came through the receiver. “The car…”

“There’s no need to worry about us here,” Jie Ming interrupted him. “Don’t come to pick us up.”

Harding’s voice paused.

Then the old man spoke again, his tone carrying cautious uncertainty.

“Jie Ming, what… what do you mean by that?”

Jie Ming offered no explanation.

He moved the receiver away from his ear and gently placed it back on the cradle.

The click of the call ending sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet bookstore.

Eric stood beside the bookshelf, one hand still resting on its frame. Watching Jie Ming’s actions, his pupils trembled slightly. Having known his teacher for ten years, he could clearly discern his teacher’s emotions.

“Teacher.” Eric’s voice tightened. “What are you going to do?”

Jie Ming turned around to face him.

His expression remained calm, but Eric noticed that his teacher’s eyes were different from usual.

“I’m leaving,” Jie Ming said.

Eric froze in place.

His mouth opened, his lips moved as if to say something, but his throat felt blocked.

He looked at Jie Ming’s face—that face he had seen for ten years, the face he thought he would keep seeing forever—and suddenly felt it had become very distant.

“Where?” he finally found his voice.

The sound was smaller than he expected, like a child asking.

Jie Ming did not answer where.

He simply looked at Eric with calm eyes.

Eric’s fingers tightened on the bookshelf frame.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotion in his chest, then asked the question he already knew the answer to.

“Teacher, will you come back?”

Jie Ming shook his head.

The motion was slow but without hesitation.

Although Archwizard Austin had not explicitly stated it in the task, all the wizards, including Jie Ming, understood clearly that once this task was completed, they would essentially be driven out.

“Behind the wall of the underground laboratory,” Jie Ming’s voice remained unhurried, without any emotional fluctuation that should accompany a farewell. “I left some things for you. As for the contents inside, you can decide whether to promote them based on your own judgment.”

“Oh, right.” Jie Ming seemed to remember something, his tone still indifferent. “Dirk made an appointment with me earlier. When he returns in a while, he wanted help adjusting his seal. You’ll have to handle it yourself then. With your current skills, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

Eric opened his mouth, but it opened and closed, closed and opened again, and in the end, not a single word came out.

Still, Jie Ming’s attitude relieved him considerably. At least it didn’t look like his mentor was going off to die.

“Teacher.” Eric’s voice finally stabilized. He released his grip on the bookshelf frame, letting his hand fall to his side along his trouser seam. His waist bent slightly as his tone filled with pleading.

“Can I go with you, Teacher?”

Jie Ming looked at him and slowly shook his head.

Although this plane showed no overt influence from external forces, all the wizards who came here understood that this plane was actually the property of Archwizard Austin.

Without his permission, they had no right to take anything away.

The momentum Eric had barely gathered immediately dissipated.

In truth, he had known the answer all along.

From the first day he met Jie Ming, he had known his teacher did not belong here.

The aura his teacher carried, that sense of detachment that clashed with everything around him, had made Eric clearly aware that his teacher held secrets.

He did not even feel it was a secret he needed to keep.

Did the people in the Spirit Medium Association—Harding, the president, those high-ranking officials who had cooperated with his teacher for years—really not know? Of course they knew.

A researcher of unknown origin with outrageously advanced skills had suddenly appeared in Mist Capital with no traceable background, no family ties, and no social network.

Such a person would be suspicious in any era, any country, or any organization.

But the benefits Jie Ming brought were too great.

His improved sealing technique allowed the Association’s spirit mediums to live decades longer. His Strange separation technique let those elders who had devoted their lives to the Association enjoy peaceful later years. His treatment methods allowed patients with soul injuries who should have only waited for death to stand up again.

In this world where the Strange ran rampant and human lives were as cheap as grass, one Jie Ming was worth a hundred Association elites.

So everyone tacitly chose not to pierce that layer of window paper.

They wove a layer of protective coloring for Jie Ming with their silence, and Jie Ming repaid that silence with his techniques.

Eric swallowed all the reluctance and unwillingness surging up inside him.

His chest heaved violently twice before returning to calm.

“……” His voice was hoarse. “These years, thank you very much, Teacher.”

He covered his chest with one hand and bowed deeply, performing a solemn gesture.

Jie Ming looked at the top of his head.

The hair on that head had grown a bit long, with a small tuft sticking up at the back of his skull, probably messed up by gravel when he rushed up from the underground laboratory earlier.

The collar of his white coat was not folded properly, with the left side higher than the right.

Jie Ming raised his right hand and placed it on Eric’s head.

The palm’s temperature was neither hot nor cold, its pressure neither light nor heavy.

Eric’s body trembled slightly the instant the touch landed, then went still.

Jie Ming stroked the top of his head once before withdrawing his hand.

Eric straightened up and wiped his face.

Then his movements froze.

The person standing before him was no longer the ordinary, unremarkable Jie Ming he had known for ten years.

Jie Ming’s height was rapidly increasing.

From under 1.8 meters to 1.9, then 2 meters.

His appearance was changing as well.

His ordinary facial contours became sharp and defined. The lines of his features shifted from blurred to keen.

The sense of mediocrity between his brows and eyes vanished, replaced by a handsomeness that did not belong to this era.

The clothes on Jie Ming’s body had somehow turned into a dark robe—not attire from this plane.

The robe’s material resembled flowing dark metal, gleaming with a deep luster under the bookstore’s warm yellow light.

His hair had grown longer, hanging beside his shoulders, the strands refracting a faint dark golden hue in the light.

Eric did not even notice that his mouth had opened.

He simply stood there with his mouth half-open, staring at the person before him who was both unfamiliar and familiar. Only one thought kept repeating in his mind: So this is what Teacher really looks like.

After returning to his original appearance, Jie Ming looked at him, the corners of his mouth curving slightly in what counted as a smile for Eric.

Then his figure began to fade.

Under the effect of the Great Void Step, his outline grew blurry, his colors shifting from saturated to faint.

Eric subconsciously reached out to grab him.

His fingers passed through the dispersing light and shadow but touched nothing.

Only he remained inside the bookstore.

The books on the shelves were arranged quietly. The bulb on the ceiling emitted its warm yellow light. Steam still rose from the teacup on the table.

The rocking chair, which had swayed when Jie Ming stood up earlier, was still gently rocking.

Everything was the same as usual.

Only one person was missing.

Eric stood in place, his hand still extended.

He looked at the now-empty air, slowly withdrawing his hand.

His shoulders sank slightly, but his back straightened even more.

His jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a thin line.

His eyes reddened, but no tears fell.

Outside on the cobblestone path, hurried footsteps grew closer.

It was the sound of several people running—heavy, rapid steps, boots clattering chaotically on the damp stones.

Eric turned around and walked toward the door.

He pushed open the wooden door and stood on the threshold.

Grayish-white mist rushed toward him, carrying Mist Capital’s characteristic damp chill mixed with the scent of coal smoke and sea brine.

Harding ran at the front, followed by three Association-uniformed team members—all familiar faces.

Sweat beaded on their foreheads and their breathing was labored. They had clearly run the whole way.

Harding stopped at the bookstore entrance, hands on his knees, gasping heavily.

He looked up at Eric standing on the threshold, then glanced into the bookstore behind him.

The rocking chair was still swaying. Steam still rose from the teacup. A newspaper still lay on the table.

“Where’s your teacher?” Harding’s voice was hoarse and urgent amid his panting.

Eric stood on the threshold, his gaze passing over Harding’s head to the distant dark purple sky.

The writhing black patterns were denser than before, like a net tightening.

“He’s gone,” he said.

Harding’s panting paused for an instant.

He straightened his waist, his gaze shifting from Eric’s face to the empty bookstore behind him, then back to Eric’s face.

“Where did he go?”

Eric shook his head and said nothing.

Harding stared at him for several seconds, then slowly nodded.

He asked no more.

The three team members behind him exchanged glances. Two stepped back and whispered at the alley entrance. The other stood in place with a hand on the communicator at his waist, seemingly hesitating whether to report this to headquarters.

Harding took a step forward, walked up the steps, and stood beside Eric.

Neither of them spoke.

Mist poured in from the alley entrance, flowing over the cobblestones, across the bookstore threshold, and over the feet of the two men.

In the distance, the factory whistle sounded beneath the dark purple sky—low and drawn-out, as if bidding farewell to the one who had already departed.