Eve continued, lightly tapping her knee with delicate fingers, as if recalling some materials:
"She excels at enhancing the regeneration ability of organisms, once successfully regenerating all limbs of a Crystal Lizard, with their functions fully intact."
"Finally, there is the rather unexpected contestant—Scholar Ahmed from the ’Quicksand School’.
Although he majors in Earth Element Transformation, he has recently delved into Biological Elementalization.
There are rumors that he is researching how to create a micro-element cycle inside organisms, allowing a Crystal Lizard to sustain itself in extreme environments."
Ron listened, a slight smile playing at his lips:
"Eliot already sent me this intelligence and more details yesterday.
However, I must thank Her Highness for using your privilege to collect this information for me."
Eve seemed somewhat surprised: "Wizard Eliot? Are you acquainted with him?"
"I met him during a trial when I was with the Black Mist School," Ron explained blandly:
"After coming to the Central Lands, we maintained contact. His ’Wind of Listening’ talent is indeed advantageous in intelligence gathering."
"I see." Eve nodded slightly, a look of understanding on her face;
"Wizard Eliot is, technically speaking, my distant cousin. His ’Gale Clan’ has some familial ties with the Crown Clan, which have lasted several generations."
There was a touch of envy in her voice:
"The top-tier talent ’Wind of Listening’ indeed makes him quite renowned among the small circles of our Wizard Clans, considered one of the most outstanding young people of his generation."
"It’s great that you can be friends with Wizard Eliot."
Eve sincerely said: "In the Central Lands, sometimes personal connections can have unexpected effects."
Ron smiled slightly, understanding in his heart.
In any relatively peaceful organization, the importance of allies is self-evident.
The flying apparatus began to descend slowly.
Tens of thousands of spectators were already gathered in a theater-like open-air grandstand, forming a colorful sea of people.
Various Extraordinary Races displayed their unique physical traits under the sunlight:
There were families of Lizardmen covered in gleaming scales;
Translucent Elemental Elves drifting in specially made Crystal Containers;
There was even a rare Dragon Descendant, his vertical pupils flashing golden in the sunlight, like two miniature suns.
"Truly spectacular." Dale marveled quietly, her golden eyes wide open:
"I’ve never seen so many different races gathered together."
"After all, the Lance Festival is the most important traditional festival in the Central Lands."
Franka explained, her tone carrying an unusual gentleness:
"It is also an important platform for inter-racial exchanges among the Ring Abyss Continent Group. Many trade contracts and marriage agreements between races are reached during the festival."
As the flying apparatus gradually descended, the crowd in the square began to notice the special conveyance.
At first, there were only sparse glances, then more and more people looked up, and discussions gradually spread among the crowd.
"That’s the ’Silver Feather’ of the Crown Clan!"
"Look at the emblem on it, it’s the mark of Cassandra Tower Master!"
"Is Her Highness Eve here to watch the competition? It can’t be, she rarely appears in public due to the ’Demon Devouring’ symptoms..."
The discussions were mixed with surprise and curiosity, and as the flying apparatus finally stopped in the contestant’s exclusive area, almost all eyes were focused in that direction.
"Good luck, Master." Eve smiled slightly, sending her master to the cabin door:
"I’ll be in the VIP area, awaiting your excellent performance."
Ron nodded slightly, a note of confidence in his words: "Thank you, I shouldn’t let Her Highness down with my performance."
Then he walked straight off the flying apparatus, ignoring the gazes from the crowd.
"It’s Ron Ralph!"
Someone in the crowd recognized him, their voice full of surprise:
"That newly arrived Treasure-level genius!"
"Why is he riding the Crown Clan’s flying apparatus? Could he have some special connection with Her Highness Eve?"
"I heard he’s Her Highness Eve’s master, teaching Magic Potion Making and Bloodline Modulation..."
Ron paid no attention to these discussions and walked straight to the contestants’ assembly area.
There, dozens of contestants had already gathered, most of them being masters or researchers from various Schools.
The expression on everyone’s face carried confidence and anticipation, but upon seeing Ron’s special entrance, there was inevitably a trace of envy in their eyes.
"It seems our newly promoted Treasure-level genius is quite favored by the Crown Clan."
A middle-aged man in a robe muttered to his companion somewhat displeased:
"Such a high-profile entrance, it’s very much in line with someone from the Marginal School’s fascination with the powerful."
"Don’t say that, Mueller."
His companion, a petite Witch, advised him:
"Being able to rise from an apprentice of the Marginal School to an Official Wizard in just three years, and also receiving a Treasure-level evaluation, that itself already proves his distinction.
Moreover, the Crown Clan has always looked down their noses, they wouldn’t favor an ordinary person without reason."
Mueller let out a slight hum, saying no more.
But the look in his eyes clearly wasn’t one of disdain.
"Welcome, Assistant Ralph."
A middle-aged man in a formal robe came to greet him:
"I am the coordinator for this competition, Arnold Wes. Your competition equipment is ready, just at workstation number seven."
Ron thanked him politely and then moved toward his workstation.
On the way, he noticed numerous glances from competitors, carrying curiosity, caution, and even a bit of hostility.
But all these were expected; after all, as a newcomer who made a high-profile appearance on the Crown Clan’s flying apparatus, it was bound to arouse some displeasure.
At the side of the workstation, Ron began checking the prepared materials and tools, ensuring everything met the standards and requirements.
This is a basic habit of a Modulator; no matter what the circumstances, one must have a thorough understanding of every tool and every material they use.
On the other side of the contestants’ assembly area, several masters from the Crystal Tower had already noticed Ron’s arrival, each with a different reaction.
"That Ralph assistant who’s been quite in the limelight recently seems to have arrived."
A middle-aged man in a luxurious robe remarked softly, his tone carrying a subtle sarcasm:
"Quite an...attention-grabbing entrance."
Valen maintained his usual silence, merely nodding slightly, his gaze calm as a deep pool.
That composed demeanor, on the contrary, exerted pressure on those around him.
"Speaking of which, although Assistant Ralph has shown impressive talent in Magic Potion Making, we haven’t seen any significant results from him in Bloodline Modulation."
Another gray-haired master slowly said:
"Simultaneously mastering multiple Wizardry skills, it seems unlikely he could reach true depth in any particular field."
"I don’t think so, Lecturer Neumann."
Eliot, standing behind Valen, smiled in rebuttal, his ears moving slightly:
"Ralph’s capabilities far exceed ordinary expectations; his recent paper has already completed the second round of review."
The Alchemy Element Chair, Associate Professor William West, also nodded slightly:
"Indeed, I just completed the second review of his paper. His understanding and innovation toward energy cycle structures have far surpassed the level of an assistant.
I believe his work in Bloodline Modulation will not disappoint either."
After hearing the discussion, Valen finally spoke, his voice as calm as ever but with measured insight:
"Excessive predictions often miss the mark. Rather than speculating, it is better to await the manifestation of facts."
This brief statement plunged the surrounding masters into contemplation.
Valen’s words were few, yet they always hit the mark.
Meanwhile, Eliot quietly curled his lips, having already ’heard’ the information carried by the wind through his special talent.
Neumann glanced at the blond youth, a not-so-obvious envy in his eyes.
The genius of the "Gale Clan," combined with his unique special talent.
Though Eliot’s words were modest, his innate composure and confidence always left others feeling slightly uncomfortable.
Valen seemed to notice this subtle change in atmosphere but chose to remain silent.
As a seasoned academic "elder," he was well aware of the wisdom of remaining reticent.