Chapter 15: Chapter 15: Ocular Tremors and Flesh Proliferation...
After returning to the dormitory, Ron didn’t rest immediately but instead started his meditation cultivation for the day.
Ever since he became a Magic Potion Apprentice, he found his perception of Spiritual Power had become sharper.
And today’s insight into the "Rhythm" during Body Refining seemed to offer a brand new perspective.
"If the Crown Breathing Technique is about imitating the sun’s patterns..."
Ron opened the worn-out Basic Meditation Technique: "Then does Spiritual Power also have its own specific operating pattern?"
He carefully studied the basic rune formed by the three arcs in the book.
Previously, he merely imitated mechanically, but now he suddenly realized—the arrangement of these three arcs seemed to imply a certain rhythm.
With this idea in mind, he began to try sketching the rune with different rhythms.
[Basic Meditation Begins]
When the first arc formed in his consciousness, he no longer rushed to complete it as before, but carefully felt the flow of Spiritual Power.
Curiously, whenever a part of the rune resonated with the fluctuations of Spiritual Power, that arc would become exceedingly stable.
"So that’s it..." Ron finally understood something.
This rune was not just a tool to guide Spiritual Power; its shape itself was imitating the most natural flow of Spiritual Power.
[Special Effect Triggered: Spiritual Rhythm—Meditation Effect Slightly Increased]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points + 1]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points + 1]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points + 1]
[Today’s Cultivation Time Has Reached the Limit, Rest is Recommended]
The significant increase in experience points compared to usual confirmed that his theory was correct.
Just as Ron was about to continue meditating, a commotion suddenly erupted outside the door.
"Has someone advanced again?" He stood up and opened the door, just in time to see a familiar figure rushing past.
It was Locke, who had come to the Black Mist Jungle at the same time as him, running excitedly towards the testing hall.
"Looks like a Candidate Apprentice has made a breakthrough."
Andre, living not far from him, obviously heard the commotion as well and stepped out from his room:
"Such occurrences are becoming more frequent lately. The closer it gets to the assessment deadline, the more desperate everyone becomes."
Ron understood his meaning. As time passed, those who saw no hope often chose to take risky moves
—either daring to try dangerous Forbidden Magic or buying some dubious "Special Potion."
"Let’s go and take a look; anyone’s successful experience is worth learning from."
Andre waited for Ron to lock his room door: "We might uncover some clues."
The testing hall was located in the center of the dormitory area, where there was a specially made Crystal Ball that could measure the strength of Spiritual Power.
When the two arrived, a crowd had already gathered in the hall.
Locke stood before the Crystal Ball, his face pale but his eyes excited.New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novᴇl(ꜰ)ire.ɴet
"It’s starting," someone whispered.
Locke placed his hand on the Crystal Ball, and immediately dark red mist began swirling within the sphere.
Moments later, a fairly bright symbol condensed in the mist, but it appeared extremely unstable, flickering like a faulty bulb.
"He really made it!" A chorus of exclamations erupted around them.
This was indeed surprising, as Locke, like Ron, was originally on the brink of barely reaching the sixth-class star standard.
Yet now, almost three months ahead of schedule, he had already met the spiritual power standard for the Elementary Apprentice assessment.
"What method did he use?" Discussions buzzed around.
But Ron noticed that Andre’s expression grew severe: "Something’s not right..."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked in a lowered voice.
"Look at his pupils." Andre’s expression was grim as he half-raised his arm to block his friend beside him, slowly retreating:
"They’re overly dilated, and also..."
He pointed at Locke’s hands touching the Crystal Ball, which were trembling uncontrollably: "This could be a sign of Spiritual Power loss of control."
Sure enough, amid the crowd’s gasps, Locke suddenly clutched his head, letting out a painful groan.
His previously clear eyes turned chaotic, and his mouth began to twitch uncontrollably.
"This is bad!" Andre pulled Ron back rapidly: "Get away quickly..."
Before the words were out, Locke suddenly let out a scream.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his spiritual power began to fluctuate wildly.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze, and everyone felt a suffocating sensation.
"Judging by the symptoms, it should be the aftereffects of a forbidden potion." Andre gritted his teeth and whispered, "This guy dared to try such a thing to enhance his spiritual power."
Ron noticed the dark red mist in the crystal ball suddenly thickening, and the symbols within began to twist and deform, which was clearly not a good omen.
Just as everyone was hastily retreating, sensing something was wrong, a white figure flashed in the center of the hall.
The candidate apprentices around immediately scattered like a receding tide, their eyes filled with undisguised fear and awe.
This instinctive fear was not without reason.
As the apex of the food chain in the Black Mist Jungle, Official Wizards wielded almost absolute power without constraint.
But more terrifying than the power itself was the invisible sense of oppression emanating from an Official Wizard.
Ron had heard from Andre that when spiritual power breaks through a certain critical point, reaching the standard of an Official Wizard, the magic power within undergoes a bizarre activation transformation, forming a special energy field known as a "domain."
This "domain" would continuously emit highly penetrating energy radiation, which even the wizard themselves found hard to fully restrain.
Though most wizards employed special means to keep this radiation to a minimized range.
Yet, even so, getting within two meters of an Official Wizard would cause people with average constitution to experience various discomforts—dizziness, nausea, fever, and over time, even symptoms of organ failure might appear.
It was said that people with particularly weak constitutions could die within minutes from overexposure to excessive radiation.
This is also why wizards prefer solitude and set heavy restrictions around their residences, both to protect their privacy and research outcomes, and to prevent unnecessary "accidental fatalities."
Ron felt that as the white-robed figure approached, the air seemed to thicken, and breathing became increasingly difficult.
The surface of his skin began to feel a peculiar prickling sensation, as if countless needlepoints were gently piercing.
This feeling was so apparent even from more than ten meters away, let alone for those apprentices forced to stay closer.
Several candidate apprentices closer to the white-robed mage had turned pale, with one even starting to bleed from the nostrils.
Yet no one dared to complain out loud, nor did anyone dare to leave without permission—in the eyes of a wizard, these could be seen as signs of disrespect, with often unimaginable consequences.
This is the deterrence brought by the absolute disparity in power.
The apprentices genuinely revered the wizards, not just for fear of their power, but because there was a longing in everyone’s heart to become such a strong person.
"Alright, if you can’t take it, stand further back."
As the white-robed mage’s cold voice rang out, he waved his magic wand, and a circle of silver light spread out.
Everyone was pushed straight to the corners, leaving only the already out-of-control Locke convulsing in the center.
"Interesting..." the wizard speculated: "Seems like he’s ingested a ’Spiritual Catalyst,’ and the dose far exceeds his tolerance limit."
He said, taking a crystal bottle filled with an eerie black liquid from his robe:
"A good opportunity to test this new formula."
Ron noticed Andre’s face became extremely grim, as the well-informed one, he had evidently witnessed similar scenarios before.
"Don’t watch, it’ll..." Andre whispered, but Ron knew he had to remember this scene.
This is the wizarding world — where the strong see the weak as mere experimental material, life and death decided with a single thought.
A piercing scream shattered Ron’s thoughts, as the black liquid from the bottle was forcibly poured into Locke’s mouth by an invisible hand, and his body started convulsing violently, as if something slithered beneath his skin.
The white-robed mage raised his fist, and the silver halo firmly restrained the out-of-control Locke.
At this moment, Locke had completely lost his rationality, his eyeballs trembling incessantly, with some kind of ever-changing geometric pattern reflected in his pupils.
"Ah... the classic ’Ocular Tremor syndrome.’" The white-robed mage’s voice remained calm: "When mortals glimpse the truth they shouldn’t see, this is the most common reaction."
He paced slowly beside Locke, like a researcher repeatedly observing a caged lab rat:
"In this case, the ’Spiritual Catalyst’ he ingested is likely made from the eyeballs of a mutated creature."
Just then, a bizarre distortion suddenly surged beneath Locke’s skin, as if something slithered within his flesh.
His right arm began to swell, the surface cracking open to reveal writhing flesh.
"Flesh Proliferation syndrome." The white-robed mage chuckled lightly: "It’s rather rare, to contract two types of mutation pollution at once."
Ron endured the discomfort and continued to observe, noticing the white-robed mage’s eyes slightly trembling, a mark left by long-term exposure to mysticism knowledge.
In Locke’s screams, a certain inhuman tone gradually emerged, his flesh constantly reorganizing, forming grotesque mutated limbs or organs, only to disintegrate immediately after.
"Stop watching, we should hurry back!" Andre pulled Ron and turned to leave, but those images were already deeply imprinted in his mind.
On the way back to the dorms, Ron remained silent.
Those bizarre scenes kept flashing in his mind—the strange patterns in Locke’s eyes, the writhing flesh, the twisted air...
What on earth is happening? Why would a potion meant to enhance spiritual power result in such terrifying consequences?
"Andre..." Ron finally couldn’t help but speak: "Those... symptoms of ocular tremor and flesh proliferation, have you seen them before?"
The blond boy’s face instantly turned unusually grim: "Ron, this isn’t something you should be concerned about right now!"