Captain Miller stepped forward, with him and his team already donned in specially crafted Abyss protective gear.
The surface of the protective gear was engraved with Protective Runes, and the masks featured built-in filtration systems to purify the toxic gases of the Abyss.
"Wizard Ralph, the equipment check is complete."
Miller’s voice came through the Magic Sound Transmitter, carrying the steadiness unique to a veteran:
"But I must remind you once more, the danger level of the Fourth Layer far exceeds that of the previous layers. Even a veteran team like ours cannot guarantee absolute safety."
"I understand the risks," Ron replied succinctly, while inspecting his own gear.
"Moreover, I have prepared extensive contingency plans."
He gently patted the Storage Bag at his waist, which contained Summoning Runes given by Uther, as well as various Emergency Potions and escape tools.
The "Explorer One" Golem had also completed its final adjustments, ready to take on more dangerous exploratory work in his stead at any time.
They were currently standing at the core area of the Observation Station, with a giant descending platform like an inverted pyramid, deeply embedded in an artificially hewn rock shaft.
For the first time, Ron was witnessing this architectural marvel firsthand, and he couldn’t help but pause.
The platform’s surface was covered with a dense network of Runic circuits, each path shimmering with a steady silver-blue glow.
But these runes were not lifeless carvings; instead, they expanded and contracted like blood vessels, as if this massive structure was engaged in some profound breathing.
More unsettlingly, distorted faces occasionally emerged within those runes.
Those were the Rune Artisans who had once participated in the construction of this facility, whose souls had been permanently merged into these runes, becoming the "fuel" that sustained the facility.
"Even though I’ve seen this thing countless times, it still gives me the creeps,"
came a gruff voice from behind Ron.
It was a middle-aged man with a scarred face who spoke.
He had lost his left eye to some Abyssal Creature, and in the hollow socket rested a rotating prosthetic eye.
"Blake, watch your language."
An older Female Witch frowned and said, "There are other colleagues present here."
Blake shrugged indifferently:
"Facts are facts, Camilla. Back when this contraption was being built, those lunatics ’consumed’ over three thousand craftsmen alive. Look at those runes, they’re still weeping."
Ron activated "Extraordinary Recognition," and under the special vision, the entire platform appeared as a massive Runic extension.
Countless tortured souls were bound within the Runic network, their despair and fear having already become part of the facility’s power.
This illustrates the essence of Wizard Civilization—to gain power and knowledge, any cost is acceptable.
"This level of soul fusion technology..."
Ron silently analyzed in his heart, "Mastering its principles could greatly aid my Stand-In Puppet project."
Feeling anger or sympathy for what’s already happened holds no meaning for a researcher.
The important thing is to learn the technology from it and apply it to one’s own research.
"Do you feel it? The lament from the souls of the departed?"
A gloomy voice arose.
The speaker was a thin man dressed in a black robe.
His hands were covered with peculiar silver gloves, which were crawling with writhing runes.
"I am Necromancer Mordred, specializing in the application of Soul Energy," he extended his hand to Ron:
"The design concept of this platform is practically a Necromancy masterpiece."
Ron politely shook hands with him through a layer of magic grid, but remained cautious internally.
Necromancers hold a delicate status within Wizard Society.
Their skills are useful, but their personalities are often extremely twisted.
"Ron Ralph," he introduced himself succinctly.
"Oh? The genius who ranked second in the New Star Plan?" Mordred’s eyes showed a kind of morbid interest:
"I heard you’ve made significant strides in Bloodline Modulation... interested in collaborating? My undead servants need more intricate stitching, and your skills..."
"I don’t have plans in that regard at the moment," Ron interrupted coldly.
Just then, Uther’s spectral image appeared in the center of the platform.
But unlike his warm demeanor during private meetings, the old professor now exuded an intimidating pressure, the scattering silver light made one feel as if they were bearing a massive mountain.
"Fellow explorers, welcome to the Abyssal Observation Station."
Uther’s voice echoed across the entire platform:
"Before the descent begins, I must inform you of a few points."
His gaze swept across the more than twenty explorers present, each feeling the immense Demon Pressure from the Great Wizard.
"Firstly, this descending device is sustained by my Void Power. Your life safety is completely in my hands."
The old professor’s words carried a cold fact:
"Any violation during the descent will result in immediate execution."
The platform instantaneously fell into a deathly silence.
Several explorers who had been whispering stopped immediately.
"Secondly, starting from the fourth layer of the Abyss, the intensity of the curse is enough to cause hallucinations even in Morning Star Wizards.
Though my Shield can provide protection, if anyone attempts any form of interference or probing during the descent..."
Uther’s spectral image suddenly became menacing, with the silver light transforming into countless tentacle-like beams: