Chapter 510
Real Names and Cooperation
Chapter 510 Real Names and Cooperation
On his way to the central command room of the camp, Jemin clearly sensed that the atmosphere around him was somewhat different.
Along the way, the wizards encountered, whether rushing to the front lines or repairing magical artifacts in a temporary workshop, would always have their eyes linger on him for a moment, whether intentionally or unintentionally.
The gaze wasn't hostile; it was more like a mixture of curiosity, inquiry, awe, and... a certain indescribable gossip.
He could even vaguely detect those subtle, encrypted fragments of mental energy fluctuations in the air, clearly indicating that someone was having a private conversation about him.
Jemin frowned slightly.
He wasn't used to being the center of attention, especially after his serious injury.
"Don't worry about it." Viola, who was beside him, seemed to see through his thoughts, a playful smile on her lips, her voice low.
"You're quite the 'famous' now, junior. You single-handedly killed three level-six enemies, including the [Hand of Annihilation], and even took down the Chaos Cult's 'Holy Son' while severely injured... It's hard not to attract attention with such a record."
"Although the command headquarters hasn't officially announced anything yet, they're probably doing final verification and tactical value assessment. But the wizards have their own information channels, especially in frontline camps like this, where even the slightest thing can spread like wildfire."
"I see... Yeah, right!" Jemin glanced at his senior. "It's because you've been showing off too much!"
Viola, far from feeling ashamed, wore a smug expression: "Oh, it's nothing, it's nothing. I wasn't much of a help..."
Jemin sighed, but he also knew that this wasn't actually a bad thing for a wizard.
He himself didn't actually think it was a bad thing; he just felt that his discomfort was just a stress response.
After all, wizards are essentially "scholars," and whether it's "academic exchange" or "selling products," having a certain reputation is definitely better than being unknown.
Then I became a little curious.
In the wizarding world, remarkable achievements often lead to corresponding "titles," which is almost an unwritten rule.
"So... do I have any titles now?" he asked, his tone slightly probing.
Although hearing other people use terms like "Holy Son," "God of War," and "Hand of Annihilation" always feels a bit childish.
But when it comes to my own situation, it seems... not so bad?
Upon hearing this, a clear hint of mockery flashed in Viola's silver-gray eyes.
She deliberately looked Jemin up and down before slowly saying, "Title? Not yet."
"Huh?" Jemin was taken aback.
“Titles aren’t given out randomly,” Viola explained. “They usually stem from a wizard’s most prominent characteristics—perhaps their preferred laws, signature spells, main areas of research, or even their unique style of doing things. For example, my ‘Pain,’ and that ‘Hand of Annihilation’ that you killed.”
She shrugged, her smile deepening: "But what about you? My dear junior, you're too 'clean' when you strike. So far, almost every enemy who has witnessed your full power has been left alive."
"The most profound impression your comrades in the camp had of you, besides the terrifying rumors of your battle achievements, was probably... the scene of you being carefully carried back to the camp by dozens of dark and ferocious black giants as if you were some precious and fragile item."
She leaned closer, lowered her voice, and asked in a mischievous tone, "You wouldn't want your title to be associated with this kind of 'triumphant return,' would you? Like... 'Lord of the Black Coffin'? 'The Sedan Chair Bearer'? Or to put it more bluntly—'The One Who Was Carried Back'? Actually, there's been this trend in the camp lately..."
Upon hearing Viola's words, Jemin's expression froze.
To be honest, I didn't look very presentable when I returned to the camp.
Goodness, what if the final title is "Black Coffin Bearers"...
A video of a certain Black professional team that he had seen in his previous life flashed through Jemin's mind, and he couldn't help but shudder.
Compared to all of these, the simple and unadorned real name "Jieming" is simply heavenly!
“…I think it’s fine to use my original name,” he said dryly.
"Hahaha!" Viola laughed out loud, clearly pleased with Jemin's reaction.
After laughing, she became serious and said, "Actually, not having a fixed title is, in some cases, a greater honor."
"Oh?" Jemin became interested.
“This means that when people mention your ‘name,’ they are referring to you by default, without any prefix or suffix to distinguish you.” Viola’s eyes revealed a hint of longing. “This is even rarer than having an exclusive title. It represents that your existence itself already possesses sufficient ‘uniqueness’ and ‘identifiability.’”
At this point, Viola winked at Jemin: "For example... our mentors don't have titles..."
Jemin listened with a sense of longing: "So, how does one achieve this level of... 'revealing one's true name'?"
"It's very simple."
A calm yet penetrating voice came from behind the two of them.
Jemin and Viola turned around at the same time, only to see that their mentor, Clark, was already a few steps behind them, still wearing his gray robe and with an indifferent expression, as if the comment he had just made had not come from him.
"Mentor," the two greeted each other quickly.
Clark nodded slightly, and without stopping, walked naturally in front of the two, leading them towards the heavily guarded command room door, which was shrouded in multiple layers of light.
His presence was like the highest level of pass; the construct guards at the gate and the wizards in charge of security simply verified his identity fluctuations before letting him pass, and even Jemin and Viola were spared the tedious inspection procedures.
As he went through security, Clark continued the previous topic in his characteristically straightforward tone: "There are usually two ways to keep your real name forever."
“The first type,” he said, extending his index finger, “does not exhibit any significant, categorizable ‘characteristic’ abilities against opponents of the same or even higher level. Your sorcery’s destructive power is inexplicably stronger, your defense is inexplicably higher, and your speed is inexplicably faster.”
"Your technical principles and implementation methods are beyond the comprehension of your opponents and even bystanders, making it impossible for them to analyze, imitate, or define even if they witness it firsthand. Over time, your 'title' will remain undecided, and people can only refer to that 'undefinable powerful being' by your real name."
Jemin carefully considered these words, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt... the difficulty was ridiculously high!
This requires an overwhelming advantage in all aspects, with no weaknesses, and the technical system must be so unique that it is self-contained and cannot be analyzed by others.
This is not just a matter of strength, but also the ultimate manifestation of the uniqueness of the path and the depth of knowledge.
"Then... what about the second method?" Viola asked for Jemin, she was also very curious.
Clark paused slightly in the wide corridor of the command room, turned his head, and the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch up very slightly.
That could hardly be called a smile sent a chill down the spines of Jemin and Viola.
“The second method is relatively ‘simple’,” Clark’s voice remained calm. “Always operate alone, and… make sure that no enemy who has witnessed your actions can speak again.”
He paused, then added, "Of course, as the number and strength of the enemies you encounter increase, the difficulty of achieving 'total annihilation' will rise exponentially. However..."
He looked at Jemin again, his gray eyes calm and still: "My personal suggestion is to try combining the first and second methods. This will greatly increase the chances of retaining your real name."
Jemin and Viola looked at each other, unsure of what to say.
From any perspective, neither of these methods is a "conventional" approach; in fact, they carry a chillingly extreme connotation.
To put it bluntly, this is not a path that ordinary wizards can even consider!
During the conversation, they arrived at the core area of the command center.
The space here is vast, with a towering arched dome casting a deep blue light.
At the center is a huge three-dimensional tactical sand table, with countless points of light flowing across it, representing the troop deployments and reconnaissance activities of both sides.
The surrounding walls are covered by several huge real-time monitoring screens, displaying energy readings, spatial fluctuations, and local battle scenes in different war zones.
A low hum and dense fluctuations of mental energy filled the air as busy wizards and constructs moved about, creating a tense yet orderly atmosphere.
Clark gave them a slight nod and then walked toward Dionysius Spencer, who was whispering with several high-ranking wizards beside the sand table.
Following procedure, Jemin walked to the task acceptance desk to the side. A more elaborately designed silver construct greeted him.
After verifying his identity and confirming that his injuries had healed to the point where he could perform missions, the construct projected a list of available reconnaissance missions in front of him.
Jemin quickly scanned the images, his gaze finally settling on the massive strategic map on the central main screen.
As Viola had said before, the vast "midfield" area between the blue area representing Norn Workshop and the red area representing the enemy alliance (Chaos Cult and Tower of Annihilation) has now been mostly marked with varying shades of green.
This indicates that these areas have been reconnaissanced to varying degrees, and the risks are relatively controllable.
Only behind the enemy's red area, there are large, glaring, unexplored deep red patches, interspersed with some light green areas, like two dangerous puzzle pieces that have not yet been fully assembled.
"This is it." With that thought, Jemin chose a long-term reconnaissance mission that pointed to the edge of that deep red area.
The mission requires continuous monitoring of energy anomalies and signs of troop movements in the area, and, as far as possible, the discovery of any hidden secondary bases or high-level wizard activity patterns of the enemy.
The risk rating is relatively high, but the corresponding military merit rewards are also extremely generous.
After accepting the mission and confirming the operation code name and emergency communication channel, Jemin nodded to Viola and his mentor Clark in the distance, then turned and walked towards the exit of the command room.
His thoughts were still immersed in Clark's discourse on "real names" and the deduction and integration of newly acquired technologies.
However, the moment he stepped out of the heavy metal door of the command room, an extremely faint, even almost instinctive sense of "discomfort" quietly swept over him.
Like an almost invisible ripple on a calm surface of water, or like an unnatural deflection in the trajectory of a speck of dust in the air.
If his soul hadn't just undergone a reshaping process, greatly enhancing his perception, and if the Body Tempering Technique hadn't brought him an extraordinary sensitivity to the harmony between himself and his environment, he probably wouldn't have noticed it at all.
He stopped, frowned slightly, and stood still.
His gaze seemed to casually sweep over the wizards coming and going in the corridor, the busy constructs, and the runic light flowing on the walls.
There were no abnormalities.
But the feeling of being "sticked" to by "something" at extremely close range lingered.
Fortunately, having been through so much, Jemin was quite familiar with this feeling.
He quietly circulated his body-strengthening technique, constantly trying to recall the source of that sense of unease.
One second, two seconds...
Finally, driven by the adaptive evolution of the Body Tempering Method, Jemin's perception quickly broke through a certain limit.
A very subtle “covering layer”, like a cicada’s wing, covering the boundary of his perception, revealed a tiny “wrinkle”.
Jemin suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze sharp as lightning, precisely locking onto a spot beside him that seemed to be empty.
“Come out, Blake,” he said calmly, his voice low but firm.
The air seemed to ripple, as if the heatwave distorted the scene.
In the next instant, a tall, slender figure emerged as if from a curtain of water, quickly becoming clear from a blurry image.
He was a male wizard who looked to be about the same age as Jay, with a pale and handsome face, and an effeminate air about him, as if he had never seen the sun. His short black hair was neatly styled.
At this moment, Blake's eyes were wide open, his pupils filled with undisguised astonishment, or even... terror.
Bill Ring Black.
A genius in the Soul Department who entered Norren Academy at the same time as Jemin, and an important partner of Jemin in selling liquid adamantite.
“Ja...Jermin?” Blake’s voice trembled slightly. He instinctively took a small step back, his deep purple pupils contracting. “You...how did you find me?”
Blake couldn't help but be terrified.
His "presence concealment" is his core ability, which combines soul suggestion, optical deflection, aura elimination, and even subtle interference with time perception.
Let alone wizards of the same level, even wizards two levels higher than him would have very few who could see through it.
It's no exaggeration to say that, as a soul-based wizard specializing in intelligence gathering, this move is his lifeline for survival.
Being seen through so easily was tantamount to having the most deadly threat openly laid out before him—meaning that his life and death were in the hands of the other party the moment he was seen through.
Seeing Blake's horrified expression, Jemin found it somewhat amusing, and the unpleasantness he felt from being followed dissipated considerably.
“Your skills are indeed much better than they were back then, almost flawless,” he said honestly. “However, I have also improved a little.”
Blake's expression shifted, and he hesitated several times before finally suppressing his panic at being seen through, forcing a slightly awkward smile onto his face:
"As expected of someone capable of taking down the [Hand of Annihilation] and the 'Holy Son'... it seems the rumors are true."
He quickly changed the subject, seemingly trying to escape the awkward situation: "I see you've also taken on a reconnaissance mission? Judging by the direction, you're planning to go behind the red zone (enemy-controlled territory)?"
“That’s right.” Jemin nodded, making no attempt to hide anything.
Blake's eyes lit up slightly. He stepped forward, lowered his voice, and asked in a consultative tone, "How about... a temporary collaboration?"
Jemin was a little curious.
It's not that I'm curious why Blake, as a level four wizard, was able to receive a reconnaissance mission, since the other party is a soul wizard who specializes in this.
The requirements for accepting similar tasks are definitely different from those for regular wizards.
What he was curious about was that, given the abilities of soul-type wizards, they shouldn't generally be suited to cooperating with others.
Seeing the questioning look on Jemin's face, Blake understood his thoughts and immediately explained, "We're not going to team up. Our combat styles and reconnaissance methods are too different; forcing us to work together would only hinder each other."
"What I mean is that within a distance where they can support and respond to each other in emergencies, they can act independently and advance in parallel. This can not only expand the search coverage and improve efficiency, but also provide mutual support when encountering a strong enemy, at least allowing for early warning or support for retreat."
He paused, then added the most crucial element: "As for the intelligence gathered and the military merits gained from it, we'll split them equally. How about that?"
Instead of answering immediately, Jemin quickly weighed the pros and cons.
Blake is a professional soul wizard, and even if he is only a level four wizard, his detection range is definitely wider than that of Jemin, a level five wizard whose knowledge accumulation is inadequate.
More importantly, although Blake has a somewhat gloomy personality, his credibility and strength as a partner have been proven.
“Okay.” Jemin made the decision, extending his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Blake.”
Blake seemed relieved, a genuine smile appearing on his pale face. He reached out and shook hands with Jemin: "It's been a pleasure working with you, Jemin. I hope we can both return with a full harvest this time."
His personal terminal on his wrist lit up slightly, sending an encrypted text message and a temporary communication channel code shared with mental markers to Jemin.
The two exchanged preliminary plans for their operation and emergency response codes, without further pleasantries.
Blake's figure was the first to blur, disappearing silently like an ink droplet blending into the background.
His "presence masking" worked again, but this time, Jemin could vaguely sense an extremely faint "anchor point" moving in the agreed general direction.
Without further delay, Jemin determined the direction, and an invisible force lifted him up, propelling him towards the outskirts of the camp.
(That's all for today's chapter; it's a two-in-one, mainly because it's difficult to separate chapters.)
(End of this chapter)