Chapter 542: Chapter 526: Rating Upgrade

Three days after the war ended.

Above Cybertron, the *Ten Thousand Miles of Sunshine* hovered silently, the battle damage on its black hull’s main cannon distinctly visible.

Inside the bridge’s command room, Allen was still using that Alchemy Puppet body. His deep blue eyes reflected the dozens of holographic screens floating before him.

"Report the rescue and damage data for the entire continent," he ordered.

"Data has been compiled," Jarvis’s voice rang out in the spacious bridge. "The current surviving population of the Y-417 Plane is approximately 814 million. The confirmed death toll of mortals has surpassed 60 million, with nearly 20 million more missing.

"Environmental damage assessment: The Evil Energy Contamination Zone occupies eight percent of the continent’s total area. Due to the firing of the ’Zero’ main cannon and the earlier overloaded extraction, the Plane’s Earth Vein Magic Power has suffered an irreversible decline. Current stability remains at only seventy-one percent of its original level."

Allen stared blankly at these staggering figures.

He had ordered the Engineering Golems to establish over four hundred temporary settlements across the continent to provide clean water and food, but not solely out of pity.

This Plane had already signed an agreement to be entirely incorporated into the Association. The population, mineral veins, and Extraordinary Plants were all now the Association’s assets. As the soon-to-be-appointed Deputy Minister, it was his obligation to preserve the remaining value of these assets to the greatest extent possible after the war. This directly tied to his final score in this "entry assessment."

"Commander, receiving a cross-Plane entry request," Jarvis announced. "Identification signal: A Floating Ship belonging to the mission assessment team directly under the Association’s Supreme Council. The notice indicates that the current Minister of the Association’s Anomaly Threat Response Department is about to arrive."

"Guide them to land."

Outside the Ionia Plane, a gray Floating Battleship, roughly eight hundred meters long, slowly squeezed through the shattered Crystal Wall.

A tall man stood at the front of the battleship’s deck. He wore a dark red Wizard’s Magic Robe. His eye sockets contained no eyeballs; instead, two constantly rotating Rune Balls took their place. Hercules von Older—a veteran Morning Star Wizard, the current Minister of the Wizard Association’s Anomaly Threat Response Department, and the direct superior Allen was about to face.

The Floating Battleship passed through the chaotic atmosphere, descending toward the center of the Northern Continent. As they penetrated the cloud layer, the Rune Balls in Hercules’s eye sockets began to spin faster. This pair of costly prosthetic eyes could maximize the Power of Laws he wielded, allowing him to read the inner nature and "threat level" of all extraordinary things within his line of sight.

At this moment, the data fed back by his prosthetic eyes greatly surprised even this experienced Morning Star Wizard.

Above the Sky Vault, a black scar over a hundred kilometers in diameter stretched across the cosmos. It was the mark left behind after the Crystal Wall had been forcibly pierced by some kind of energy. Chaotic void Storms were pouring back through the scar, forming a harrowing halo of light.

The earth, as far as the eye could see, was covered in a red and black "carpet" made of millions of Demon corpses. Scorched earth, magma, and bottomless rift valleys formed a Hellish tableau.

And at their destination sat a giant city of steel, covering nearly a hundred square kilometers. Massive numbers of Golems were working methodically amidst the ruins. The roar of large-scale production lines pierced through the howling wind, faintly echoing in the air.

It was an extreme order built upon extreme destruction.

The battleship slowly landed on the scorched earth just outside Cybertron. Hercules walked down the boarding ramp. Behind him followed three Second-level Wizard evaluators and a specialized squad tasked with recording on-site data.

The three Second-level Wizards looked at the scene before them, their faces somewhat pale, but none dared to speak. The residual might of colliding Laws lingering in the air suppressed them so heavily that they couldn’t even project their Spiritual Power.

"Lord Minister," a calm voice called out.

Allen appeared before them in the form of his Alchemy Puppet. Placing his right hand over his chest, he offered an impeccable aristocratic bow. "Welcome to the Y-417 Plane. High-risk contamination cleanup is currently underway inside my workshop. For everyone’s safety, please board the ship with me."

Allen’s tone was gentle. There was no way he would allow the assessment team to enter Cybertron. That was the core of his power, and he had no need to reveal all his trump cards to the Association.

Hercules gave Allen a profound look, the Rune Balls in his prosthetic eyes slowing their rotation slightly. He didn’t insist, merely nodding as he said, "I defer to my host."

Inside the reception room of the *Ten Thousand Miles of Sunshine*, Allen pushed a crystal slip recording the mission briefing to the center of the table.

Hercules probed it with his Spiritual Power, skimming through it quickly. The report’s contents were concise, stripping away any displays of Allen’s strength and retaining only the results.

"The cross-boundary invading Demon Legion has been completely annihilated.

"...Sargeras, the Ninth-Layer Lord of Purgatory, has been eradicated. The Plane’s defense system has been preliminarily rebuilt and has not completely fallen."

Hercules paused for a moment on the word "eradicated."

In the rigorous terminology of Wizards, "killed" meant the death of the physical body, while "eradicated" typically meant complete obliteration, including the soul, or perhaps... a much deeper form of disposal. He raised his eyes and looked at Allen, who was sitting opposite him. The Alchemy Puppet’s face held no expression. Its deep blue eyes were like a pool of stagnant water, showing not the slightest hint of restraint when facing a superior.

Hercules didn’t press the matter further. He knew very well that every Wizard who could advance to Morning Star had their own secrets.

"A very outstanding method of warfare, Lord Wesren. Your strength proves that Eleanor’s recommendation was not wrong."

Out in the corridor beyond the reception room, the three Level 2 evaluators were verifying the external detection data.

"That attack which pierced the Sky Vault retains the characteristics of matter annihilation..." one evaluator lowered his voice, unable to conceal the sheer horror in his tone. "This is absolutely not a level of destructive power a newly advanced Morning Star Wizard could cause."

"Upgrade Allen Wesren’s personal rating from ’Newly Advanced Morning Star’," another older evaluator jotted down notes rapidly on a parchment scroll. "He is not a traditional Caster. He commands a mechanical legion capable of flattening a medium-sized Plane, as well as... some kind of Plane Level strategic weapon."

While the assessment team was inspecting the battlefield, two figures flew in from the southern horizon and landed beneath the *Ten Thousand Miles of Sunshine*.

It was the Grand Chairman of the True Silver Council and the Thunder Witch King. These two Second-level Witch Kings, who had once ruled Ionia, were now travel-worn and covered in dust, their Magic Robes torn. They had hidden from the world-ending aftermath in a secret base, only daring to show themselves once they confirmed the war was completely over.

The two were granted permission to enter the reception room.

Facing Hercules and Allen, the Grand Chairman bowed deeply. Using standard, even somewhat subservient diplomatic rhetoric, he expressed his gratitude and respect to the Association’s reinforcements. Then, smoothly shifting the topic, he cryptically inquired about the future governance arrangements for Ionia.

Allen leaned back in his chair, saying nothing, simply watching him put on his performance quietly.

Hercules, on the other hand, delivered the Association’s arrangements in a strictly businesslike manner. As a newly incorporated member, Ionia had to accept the Association’s unified post-war coordination. The order in the surviving southern regions would be maintained by native Wizards, but the allocation rights for all minerals and extraordinary resources would belong entirely to the Association.

In other words, they could retain the empty title of "Witch King" and limited autonomy, but their substantial ruling power and right to distribute resources had been completely stripped away.

The Grand Chairman’s lips trembled. He glanced at Allen, who sat silently beside them, and the image of that eight-thousand-meter-tall Demon God being blasted to pieces by a single shot once again surfaced in his mind. All of his reluctance and humiliation vanished like smoke in the face of absolute violence.

The Grand Chairman lifted the Silver Staff—the representation of the True Silver Council’s highest authority—with both hands and placed it horizontally on the table. In ancient Wizard etiquette, this was the most absolute form of submission.

"We accept," the Grand Chairman said, his voice hoarse as he closed his eyes.

Two hours later, the assessment team completed their inspection of all scheduled items.

Before preparing to board the ship and leave, Hercules sought Allen out privately.

"Allen," he called him directly by his first name, his tone much more casual than it had been at the conference table. "You completed your mission beautifully. The assessment team’s report will be submitted to the Supreme Council within seven days, and your appointment as Deputy Minister will take effect simultaneously."

Hercules extended his hand. "The Anomaly Threat Response Department has a lot of troublesome matters waiting to be dealt with. I look forward to our cooperation."

"It is my honor, Lord Minister," Allen said, reaching out to shake his hand.

Watching the assessment team’s Floating Battleship disappear beyond the Crystal Wall, the polite facade on Allen’s face instantly vanished.

"Jarvis, it’s time for us to head back."

"Directive confirmed. Initiating the asset recovery protocol," Jarvis replied.

Down on the earth, giant Space Gates opened and closed intermittently. The various types of Golems scattered across the continent began an orderly retreat back to Cybertron. At the same time, thousands upon thousands of Factory Servants flooded into the battlefield. They packed up the Demon corpses blanketing the ground, the scattered Extraordinary Materials, and the high-value mutated samples, dragging them all into the Half-Plane’s warehouses.

It was a thorough, capitalist-style sweep.

When the final piece of a High-tier Demon’s corpse was safely contained, the massive Cybertron City folded back into the Magic Sea amidst a distortion of space.

The *Ten Thousand Miles of Sunshine* slowly ascended, its black hull casting one last shadow over the riddled, devastated land. A moment later, the Dimension Engine started up. The battleship tore through space, plunging into the profound Sea of Magical Power.

From a high-altitude vantage point, the shattered Northern Continent of Ionia looked like scraps that had been wantonly gnawed on by a wild beast. Bottomless rift valleys, charred permafrost, desertified wastelands, and remaining patches of green were scattered and intertwined.

Above the Sky Vault, the black scar blasted open by "Zero" was still slowly repairing itself. Chaotic void Magic Power slowly seeped into this world through the rift. And in the deepest part of that tear, an indescribable gaze seemed to linger, quietly watching this wasteland that had just experienced the fall of a Demon God and been completely drained of its last ounce of value.

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