10 days later, at high noon.

  On the second floor of a two-story villa with a small courtyard, a window suddenly exploded with a thunderous bang.

  Amidst the shower of glistening glass shards dancing in the sunlight, two figures leaped out one after another, landing almost simultaneously on the courtyard lawn.

  The moment his feet touched the ground, Peyton executed a rolling breakfall to dissipate the impact. Immediately after, he lunged forward like an enraged dire bear charging its prey. The greatsword in his hands, wide as a door panel, tore through the air with a deafening howl, stirring up a suffocating gale as it smashed down toward the heretic in front of him.

  The heretic's expression changed drastically. With no time to dodge, he could only panic and cross his arms, which were covered in a thick layer of Stoneskin, in a desperate attempt to block.

  A split second later, a dull boom resonated!

  The heavy blade struck the stone-armored arms solidly.

  Crack!

  In an instant, the rock armor on the heretic's arms shattered, sending stone fragments flying like shrapnel.

  The tremendous force transmitted through his arms drained the color from the heretic's face, and the metallic taste of blood rose in his throat. Before he could catch his breath, Peyton lifted a heavy combat boot and kicked him viciously in the abdomen.

  The heretic let out a miserable howl, spraying a mouthful of blood as he flew backward like a kite with a cut string, crashing heavily into a flowerbed.

  Peyton pressed the attack, wielding the sword that weighed hundreds of pounds as if it were a toy. His offensive was a relentless storm, leaving the heretic unable to lift his head, forced into a purely defensive and increasingly desperate position.

  At that moment, the front door of the villa was pushed open. Sia walked out, dragging the corpse of a heretic with her left hand as if dragging a dead dog.

  She glanced coldly at the battle in the courtyard and frowned. "Peyton, hurry up. Do not keep Lord Pierce waiting too long."

  Peyton grunted in acknowledgment, his attacks becoming even more violent.

  About 7 or 8 breaths later, the heretic finally collapsed. Amidst a scream of despair and terror, Peyton's sword swept across, sending his head flying. Blood gushed from the severed neck like a fountain, dyeing the surrounding vibrant flowers a stinging crimson.

  Seeing the battle conclude, Sia tossed the corpse aside and walked quickly to the carriage parked in front of the villa's wrought-iron gates. She bowed respectfully. "My Lord, it is done."

  "Mm."

  A calm voice came from within the carriage.

  Following that, the door opened, and Pierce stepped out with a tranquil expression. He walked unhurriedly into the courtyard, activated the Recording Ring on his finger, and began to absorb the dissipating soul energy.

  Sia stood behind Pierce, gazing at his tall, slender back, her eyes shimmering like water.

  Over these 10 days, they had swept through their assigned zone almost entirely, progressing much faster than anticipated. The results were incredibly rich.

  So far, they had eliminated over 30 heretics, including 5 official Disciples.

  Such efficiency was beyond her imagination!

  Sia was not like the simple and honest Peyton. After observing for these past days, she had long realized there was something peculiar about the Disciple's finger in Pierce's hand.

  Not only was the detection range significantly farther than what the City Guard described, but it also seemed capable of precisely determining the specific number and strength level of the heretics, as if he had a map hack.

  Sia didn't know how Pierce did it, nor did she intend to pry. She simply rejoiced in her good fortune to be following Pierce.

  In less than half a month, the Contribution Points she had earned exceeded the total she would usually make from a year of painstaking Academy missions. Among all the knight students participating in this suppression operation, it was likely that no one had harvested more than she and Peyton.

  And all of this was thanks to Pierce.

  Thinking of this, Sia's gaze toward Pierce became increasingly fervent. The more she interacted with him, the more she felt the depth of Pierce's power. Undoubtedly, Pierce was a genius with a limitless future.

  If she could bind herself deeply to him, it would be a dream come true for both her personally and the family behind her.

  Staring at Pierce's back, Sia secretly made a resolve: she must win Pierce's favor and become his official follower.

  Or perhaps... go even further!

  A faint blush rose on the girl's fair cheeks. In this moment, she suddenly felt incredibly grateful for the $\frac{1}{4}$ Succubus blood flowing in her veins.

  Pierce was unaware of the girl's inner thoughts. After absorbing the soul energy, he gestured for the two to leave.

  The carriage soon set off again, the wheels rumbling rhythmically over the stone-paved road.

  Leaning back against the soft seat, Pierce closed his eyes to rest and reflected on the harvest of these days.

  Since the sweeping operation began, he had gained over 200 Merit Points. This was less than half of what he earned on the night of the raid.

  However, this was to be expected. After all, most of the heretics had been slaughtered during the initial raid; the fish that slipped through the net likely numbered less than $\frac{1}{5}$ of the total.

  The fact that he could ferret out over 30 heretics in these few days was largely because his assigned zone happened to be a residential area with complex terrain—a high-risk zone for hiding remnants. Otherwise, the harvest would have been even smaller.

  From this perspective, he had held a territorial advantage in his wager with Gwen from the very beginning.

  I wonder how Gwen's sweep is going?

  The corner of Pierce's mouth curled into a playful arc.

  It was worth noting that for the heretics found in these past days, he had mostly left them to Sia and Peyton for practice. On the few occasions he did act, he sent Mist Raven for assassinations, rarely casting spells himself. The mental energy saved was almost entirely invested into the accelerated analysis of the Eye of Omniscience.

  Thanks to this, the 24th Will Rune had been successfully constructed. Consequently, the 25th Will Rune was also more than halfway analyzed.

  In addition, the improvement projects for Fireball and Magic Missile were declared complete.

  The improved Magic Missile not only had greater penetration power per missile and a significantly shortened casting animation, but the number of missiles had also skyrocketed to 20. When cast, the dense barrage was far more ferocious than heavy machine-gun fire, enough to instantly tear apart any Grand Knight without a shield.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  As for Fireball, the changes were relatively singular, mainly enhancing the explosive power and blast radius, as well as compressing the originally cumbersome casting time to the extreme.

  The improved Rank 1 spells, combined with the Segmented Casting technique, had reduced the preparation time to less than 0.5 seconds.

  Pierce nodded secretly, satisfied with this result.

  Casting Time was one of the decisive factors affecting a Wizard's combat capability. On a rapidly changing battlefield, a difference of 0.5 seconds could sometimes determine life or death.

  Many ordinary Rank 3 apprentices often required more than 1 second of preparation time to cast a Rank 1 spell. This greatly limited their survivability, especially when facing melee professionals like Grand Knights. 1 second was enough for an opponent to sprint from a hundred meters away and take their head.

  Without sufficient instant defensive measures, a Rank 3 apprentice might not even defeat a Beginner Grand Knight.

  A Wizard who could not cast spells could never instill fear in an enemy.

  In fact, when Pierce cast unimproved Rank 1 spells, he also needed about 1 second of channeling time. It was only because he had Mist Raven to provide distraction that he had ample buffering time in combat.

  However, I cannot slack off because of this. In the future, all spells frequently used in combat must be targeted for improvement.

  Pierce mused silently, reciting in his mind:

  "Eye of Omniscience, check my current status."

  [Spirit: 108.23]

  [Physique: 58.72]

  [Task 1: Analyze Will Rune No. 25. Estimated time: 45 days]

  [Task 2: Improve Ray of Enfeeblement spell model. Estimated time: 84 days]

  [Task 3: Improve Silent Image spell model. Estimated time: 82 days]

  Still need 8 Will Runes, and Spirit is still short by over 50 units.

  Pierce made a silent calculation. After this operation ended, even if he couldn't gather enough points for the Realm of Truth quota, he could exchange for enough Phantasmal Potions. At that time, his Spirit attribute would surge again. By the time the remaining 8 Will Runes were constructed, his Spirit should reach around 160.

  In at most one month, he would meet all the hard criteria for promoting to an Official Wizard.

  After that, only the final step remained—condensing the Spirit Crystal.

  Condensing a Spirit Crystal was a life-or-death hurdle. As far as Pierce knew, countless brilliant Rank 3 apprentices in history had been stuck at this stage. Even though their Will Runes and Spirit met the standards, they could never compress their liquid mental force into a solid crystal. They would remain stuck until their lifespan ran out, turning into dust with endless regret, never crossing that threshold.

  It could only be said that the obstacles between an Apprentice and a Wizard were unimaginably numerous. To become a Wizard, talent, resources, and opportunity were all indispensable. Lacking any one of them meant one might waste their entire life in the apprentice stage.

  It was precisely because of this that Official Wizards were so rare and held such a lofty status in the Astral Alliance.

  But this is already considered good.

  It is said that in the Ancient Dark Era, due to broken inheritances and extreme scarcity of resources, not even one in several thousand apprentices might advance to Wizard. And those apprentices were elites selected from all over the continent. Even if they could advance, the time required was measured in decades. Those who advanced in merely 4 or 5 years were considered peerless geniuses fought over by major organizations.

  In comparison, the current era was like heaven.

  Pierce sometimes couldn't help but think that if he had transmigrated to the Ancient Dark Era, even with the aid of the Eye of Omniscience, he would probably still be struggling for a few magic stones at the Rank 1 apprentice stage.

  Shaking his head, Pierce gathered his wandering thoughts and focused on the present.

  The most important thing right now was to meet the standards for condensing the Spirit Crystal as soon as possible, and then find a way to advance to Wizard.

  Although he now had Master Morven as a teacher and backer, as long as he did not advance to Official Wizard, he would never have a true sense of security.

  In the tens of thousands of years of Wizarding history, geniuses were as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, emerging endlessly, yet those who died prematurely were just as numerous as the stars.

  In the world of Wizards, only a genius who grew up was worthy of being called a true genius.

  No matter how good an apprentice's aptitude was, as long as they hadn't advanced, they were ultimately just slightly larger shrimp in the eyes of the true higher-ups.

  Take the current situation for example. If he were an Official Wizard, would that big shot from the Gu family dare to instigate Harlan to target him so blatantly?

  In the end, they were just bullying him for being merely an apprentice.

  In this world where power reigned supreme, only by becoming a Wizard could one speak of controlling one's own destiny!

  Without becoming a Wizard, there is ultimately no difference between me and an ant.

  A glint of deep, cold light flashed in Pierce's eyes as he looked at the retreating streetscape outside the carriage window.

  Since the failure to forcibly change his garrison zone last time, Harlan seemed to have given up, making no further moves.

  However, Pierce didn't believe for a second that the viper would truly give up. As long as Harlan wasn't stupid, he knew that after that incident, there was no room for reconciliation between them. Even if Morven didn't act later, once Pierce advanced to Wizard, he would definitely exact revenge a hundredfold.

  So unless Harlan was a fool, he would definitely try every means to kill him before that happened. And this city-wide sweep was Harlan's last chance.

  Otherwise, once the operation ended and Pierce returned to The Spire Academy protected by its independent barrier, Harlan wouldn't be able to reach him no matter how long his arm was.

  Pierce estimated that if Harlan was plotting something in the shadows, he should be making his move within these few days.

  As he pondered, the Disciple's finger in his palm suddenly heated up, interrupting Pierce's contemplation.

  Traces of a heretic found again!

  Pierce immediately cleared his mind and said in a deep voice, "Turn left at the intersection ahead."

  The coachman obeyed.

  Sia and Peyton simultaneously showed excited expressions, their hands resting on their sword hilts.

  More Contribution Points incoming!

  Night fell.

  The bustling district of the day plunged into a deathly silence as soon as night arrived.

  The joint operation between the City Guard and The Spire Academy made no attempt to hide its presence. Ordinary citizens knew that a massive hunt for heretics was underway in the Northern District. To avoid accidental injury or implication, they stayed obediently in their homes at night, doors and windows tightly shut, never going out unless absolutely necessary.

  The vast streets were empty and silent, save for the rustling of fallen leaves in the cold wind.

  Looking out, the lights were sparse. Only near the City Guard garrison were there more lights, filled with a grim, martial atmosphere.

  Upon returning to the garrison, Pierce ran into Gwen. Both had been busy searching for heretics these days, and this was their first meeting since making the wager.

  Seeing Pierce, Gwen's eyes lit up instantly. She walked over with a smile, her tone brisk. "How goes it, Pierce? How many Merit Points have you gotten during this time?"

  Before Pierce could answer, she lifted her chin slightly, smiling proudly like a little swan. "I already have over 180 Merit Points."

  Hearing this, Sia and Peyton standing behind Pierce immediately showed strange expressions. They pressed their lips together tightly to avoid laughing out loud rudely.

  Pierce glanced at Gwen and said with a smile that wasn't quite a smile, "Oh? That is very impressive."

  The smile on Gwen's face froze slightly. She keenly sensed the faint mockery in Pierce's tone, and an ominous premonition rose in her heart.

  She widened her eyes, leaning forward slightly, and asked urgently, "How many Merit Points did you get?"

  Pierce didn't keep her in suspense anymore and smiled. "230 and counting."

  Gwen was instantly shocked, her mouth slightly open, her face full of disbelief.

  How is that possible?!

  She had used her family's secret detection method, greatly improving search efficiency, and only then managed to get over 180 points. Why did Pierce have 50 more than her?

  Could it be that this guy also has some unknown trump card?

  Gwen was stunned for several seconds before coming back to her senses. Her face fell, looking somewhat dejected.

  Am I going to lose to Pierce again?

  Actually, she didn't care much about the Gem Enchantment knowledge in the wager; losing it didn't matter. What she cared about was whether she could win against Pierce in a head-to-head confrontation for once.

  But now, it seemed she was about to repeat the same mistakes and be suppressed by this guy again.

  No!

  Gwen shook her head vigorously.

  A gap of merely 40 to 50 Merit Points... as long as I get lucky and kill a Disciple, I can catch up. I absolutely cannot admit defeat just like this!

  Gwen quickly adjusted her mindset and cheered up again.

  She waved her small fist at Pierce and raised her voice. "It is not time to decide the winner yet! Just you wait, I will definitely win this wager!"

  Leaving behind this "tough talk," Gwen turned and stormed out of the garrison like the wind, apparently preparing to work overtime overnight to search for heretics.

  Her two knight teammates looked at each other, smiled bitterly, bowed to Pierce, and hurriedly chased after her.

  Watching the backs of the trio receding, Sia pursed her lips and smiled. "It seems Lord Gwen really hopes to surpass you."

  "I could not tell before that she was so competitive." Pierce shook his head with a laugh. "Unfortunately, I will not give her that chance."

  He was determined to get the Gem Enchantment knowledge.

  "Let's go back. Rest well tonight, we continue the search tomorrow," Pierce turned back and said.

  Sia and Peyton agreed, bowed to Pierce, and turned to head to their barracks.

  Pierce also prepared to go back to rest. Suddenly, his footsteps paused, his gaze sharp as a knife, looking toward the brightly lit command building in the distance.

  That was where the headquarters was located.

  Just now, he felt a gaze full of malice staring fixedly at this spot from a great distance.

  Pierce didn't need to think to know who the owner of the gaze was. A sneer of contempt appeared on his face, and he turned and left without a care.

  Inside a high-story window of the distant building.

  Harlan stood in the shadow of the curtains, staring dead at Pierce's retreating figure, his face so gloomy it seemed ready to drip water.