"Today’s harvest has been quite plentiful, on various levels..."
The Astrologer’s transformation brought not only a boost in attributes but also a fundamental shift in perspective.
Now he could observe the world from a higher dimension, sensing the deep-seated rules hidden beneath the surface.
But those memories of timeline corrections and civilization destruction still weighed heavily on his heart like a sledgehammer.
"Anomaly Catcher..."
He repeated this term in his mind, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes.
If the Wizard Civilization was indeed under some kind of surveillance, then every choice became crucial.
Cassandra’s path of conquest, Uther’s conservative strategy, and the new direction he was exploring...
Ron walked down the corridor with heavy steps.
The terrifying knowledge of civilization’s destruction and timeline resets were putting unprecedented pressure on his spirit.
Each step felt as if he were treading on cotton, and the edge of his thoughts still carried those icy images of the Anomaly Catcher’s "correction" of civilization.
The workshop door sensed his approach and automatically slid open, warm magic crystal light spilling over his pale face.
Dale was leaning by the Crystal Pool, her silver hair flowing like moonlight under the lamps.
She keenly noticed her master’s unusual state.
The emotional perception ability from her Sea Siren bloodline allowed her to clearly capture the bone-deep fatigue within Ron.
It wasn’t ordinary exhaustion but something deeper.
It was as if his soul had been scrutinized by some enormous entity, leaving a scar that was hard to heal.
"Master..."
Dale called softly, her golden eyes full of concern.
She wanted to stand up but worried that her proactive concern might make him uncomfortable.
After her bloodline awakening, her understanding of the relationship with her master had become more complex.
That vague emotion surged like a tide in her heart, yet she didn’t know how to express it.
"You look very tired, would you like to..." Her voice was as thin as a mosquito, but she didn’t know how to continue halfway through.
"I’m fine." Ron’s response was still brief, but the fatigue in his voice couldn’t be concealed.
He walked toward the workbench, habitually wanting to continue his research, only to find it difficult to concentrate.
Those terrifying images from the informational dimension still flashed in his mind:
The collective malfunction of mechanical civilizations, the server crashes of virtual civilizations, and that Abyssal-Contaminated Wizard World...
Ailan floated over from the depths of the workshop, her emerald branches trembling slightly.
As a Tree Spirit, her perception of life energy was more direct.
In her perception, Ron’s life energy had dimmed greatly, as if something had drained a large amount of his essence.
"Master, your life waves..." Ailan said worriedly, "It’s like you’ve gone through some extremely mentally exhaustive experience."
She recalled Ron’s state after every all-nighter of research in the Black Mist Jungle, but even then the exhaustion didn’t compare to now.
Dale and Ailan exchanged a glance, seeing the same worry reflected in each other’s eyes.
Although their time with Ron differed slightly, both could sense his recent changes.
The change was subtle, not merely fatigue or pressure, but a deeper... heaviness.
It was as if some invisible burden weighed upon him, preventing him from truly relaxing.
"Master."
Ailan’s voice became gentler, like a spring breeze brushing over new leaves:
"You’ve been working continuously for over ten hours. Even a Wizard with strong willpower needs proper rest to recover spiritual power."
She gently shook her branches, and the air around them began to fill with the unique freshness of a forest:
"Let me prepare a soothing environment for you tonight. You need true rest, not the kind where you meditate while processing research data."
Dale understood immediately, slowly rising to her feet, the unique charm of the Sea Siren beginning to show:
"Let me sing you a lullaby, a song passed down by the Sea Race for thousands of years to calm the spirit."
It was the Sea Siren’s naturally charming voice, yet at this moment held no allure, only pure care:
"It can calm even the most turbulent spiritual waves, allowing you to truly enter deep sleep."
Ron looked at his two companions with concern.
That pure care, like warm light, partly dispelled the shadows in his heart.
To have such genuinely caring beings in times like this did bring him some comfort.
"...Thank you."
The dark-haired youth finally nodded, a rare tiredness in his voice:
"I really do need a good rest now."
He was used to bearing everything alone, but the exhaustion now surpassed what his willpower could withstand.
.........
Lying in the sleep pod, Ron activated all its functions.
Air purification began to circulate, protective runes activated, and the mental stabilization field slowly started.
Once he was fully lying down, Dale began to hum softly.
It was an ancient lullaby of the Sea Race.
The melody rose and fell like the tides of the deep sea, each note containing the power to soothe the soul.
Her singing, like moonlight on the ocean surface, like a mother’s hand brushing a baby’s forehead, carried the gentlest parts of their racial memory:
"...Let a weary soul return to a tranquil harbor..."
The lyrics were in ancient Sea Siren language, but the emotions within transcended the barriers of language, directly soothing the listener’s heart.
Meanwhile, Ailan lit a specially made calming incense.