Chapter 307: Void Architecture Academy and Research Mission

“These original books are yours to keep, Your Excellency.”

The leading wizard gestured to the shelves. “We’ve copied the information; that’s enough for us. The physical books may hide details scanning can’t fully capture, or serve as special mediums themselves. They’re perfect for an alchemist like you to study.”

Jie Ming nodded without refusal.

The medium of knowledge sometimes concealed secrets—a near-commonplace among wizards.

Yielding the physical books was compensation in another form.

The three wizards lingered no longer. Laden with riches, they swiftly retreated along their entry path, eager to process gains and redeem merits.

The vast vault soon held only Jie Ming and the silent black giant beside him.

The mountain-piled resources were gone, leaving the heavy shelves and lingering resonances of energy and soul crystals in the air.

Storing all vault books in his internal space, Jie Ming felt no attachment.

He ordered the black giant to plant high-energy explosives, then swiftly departed.

As he flew from the cavern to the surface, a muffled boom echoed behind; the ground trembled faintly.

The underground complex hiding wealth and knowledge collapsed in chain explosions, buried forever—denying any enemy reuse.

For the next three days, Jie Ming patrolled the peripheral clearance zone.

With scouting eyes and keen senses, he found scattered resource nodes and hidden minor depots, harvesting local specialty metals and energy blocks.

Compared to the vault’s staggering first-day haul, these were mere consolations.

In spare moments, he skimmed the acquired books.

As expected, most were cultivation manuals of Giant Spirit Realm native powerhouses—detailing mental forging (or core consciousness), energy manipulation, and deep fusion with mechanical or biological limbs.

These texts were high-tier, embodying the unique power system wisdom of Giant Spirit Realm civilization.

For Jie Ming, their value lay not merely in cultivation methods but as windows.

Through them, he could reverse-engineer deeper native physiology, soul traits, and energy operation modes.

This held inestimable significance for targeted strikes or technological countermeasures.

Three days later, a recall order arrived from the outpost camp. A new mission issued to him and other logistics wizards via magic net terminals.

The task was familiar—logistics wizards’ “bread and butter”: [Study the physiological traits of Giant Spirit Realm and its vassal plane servant races; develop targeted witchcraft accordingly.]

Unlike past mandates to “preserve valuable samples where possible” or “limit witchcraft destruction range,” this mission’s note explicitly stated—primary goal: “annihilation.” No restrictions on witchcraft power; pursue only maximum efficiency in killing and destruction.

More pressing was the timeline.

Camp command demanded results ASAP—ideally before the enemy’s next massive counteroffensive.

Per frontline scouting intel, Giant Spirit Realm was frantically mobilizing native forces and urgently recalling powerhouses from other planar wars.

In at most one month, an assault far exceeding the landing battle would strike.

Thus, logistics wizards had less than a month for research, analysis, and effective targeted weapon development!

An near-impossible task.

Complex biological studies, witchcraft structure design, testing, optimization—which step didn’t demand vast time?

Yet upon returning to camp, Jie Ming saw command’s “aid” to solve this.

At camp center, where open ground once lay, now stood a grand structure of alien style.

Forged entirely of dark-silver metal, its surface flowed with precise, intricate rune lines like clock markings. Shaped as a slightly flattened giant egg, it emitted a field distorting surrounding light.

“What the hell is this?”

Staring at the structure in final calibration, Jie Ming asked a nearby logistics management wizard handling registration and coordination.

The manager’s face held pride. “This is ‘Interval of Temporal Rhythm.’ Command explained the situation to Star Ring Federation, so the Federation urgently dispatched and assembled this time-acceleration field from ‘Void Architecture Academy.’”

“Internal time flow can stably accelerate over tenfold! This gives you all effectively ten months of research time.”

Jie Ming marveled inwardly.

Not just the tech level, but its origin.

Pure time acceleration wasn’t hard; even expanding to a time-acceleration domain was achievable by many wizards.

The key—for developing new witchcraft—was maintaining elemental data accuracy relative to normal conditions during acceleration.

That was exaggerated.

Time belonged to the water element branch; acceleration meant base water element influence on elements.

Eliminating this touched distortion of the four base element rules.

Sustaining tenfold acceleration with element stability over such area involved law-level techniques of ghostly ingenuity.

Ordinary eighth-level wizards couldn’t achieve this—half-step ninth-level tech.

Moreover, Void Architecture Academy was a power on par with Star Ring Federation and Crimson Court—one of wizard civilization’s four great forces.

“Mobilizing Void Architecture Academy for an unassuming civilization… Wizard civilization truly strikes to kill against threats.” Jie Ming silently mourned the triangular planes’ civilizations for three seconds.

One day later, all tasked logistics wizards—including Jie Ming—entered “Interval of Temporal Rhythm” with anticipation and urgency.

Internal space was vaster than external appearance, divided into tens of thousands of independent lab units.

Air carried a faint sluggishness—the subtle feel of twisted time.

Through specially treated observation windows, the outside world seemed paused.

In Jie Ming’s assigned lab, several Giant Spirit Realm native samples awaited—locked in high-intensity containment fields. Slime-like, semi-fluid beings.

Up close, Jie Ming noted base forms vaguely humanoid in outline, but limb counts highly unstable.

Some sprouted extra tentacle-like structures; others had only vague torsos and head bulges.

Research unfolded swiftly. Through complex dissection, energy probing, and soul-layer scanning, preliminary conclusions emerged:

These natives had no gender; reproduction via life-information exchange with any kin—akin to cellular fusion and re-division.

Their core trait: semi-fluid tissues exhibited unimaginable compatibility with mechanical devices and other beings’ limbs/organs!

Cells secreted special bio-enzymes and energy fields, nearly neutralizing rejection between differing biology and energies.

Combined with innate extreme cellular control as slime-type beings…

This meant encountering a creature with potent physical gifts allowed direct dismantling and transplantation of limbs/organs for personal use!

Worse, with pinnacle biomimetic mechanical tech, Giant Spirit Realm could mass-produce near-identical functional mechanical prosthetics from acquired “blueprints” and rapidly equip armies!

This was the root of their terrifying evolution and adaptability—a civilization iteratively upgrading martial might via “plunder” and “replication” of others’ physical gifts!

Reaching this conclusion, Jie Ming fell into thought.

“In that case… doesn’t wizard civilization counter them hard?”

Wizard power centered on knowledge—leveraging it for might.

Physical strength mattered but wasn’t decisive.

Giant Spirit Realm could plunder only physical gifts.

Wizard bodies often underwhelmed at equal tiers; compared to knowledge-leveraged power, even “frail.”

If natives expended effort seizing a wizard’s tissues only to gain a weak shell and unremarkable elemental affinity—wouldn’t that be a “net loss”?

But Jie Ming soon shook his head, banishing underestimation.

“Never belittle foes. What if they can directly read or copy memories?”

“Moreover, per intel, triangular planes’ ‘Mind Realm’ excels in mind control and illusions. After prolonged rivalry, Giant Spirit Realm must have some soul-handling, knowledge-acquiring means.”

“However…” Jie Ming refocused on the sample’s writhing semi-fluid tissues, thoughts clarifying, “perhaps target their ‘hyper-compatibility’ itself.”

“So easily linking and driving alien biology, their bodies must harbor some unique structure or pheromone—for coordinating, controlling, ‘translating’ foreign life signals—that I don’t fully grasp. Disrupting that…”

Direction found, Jie Ming’s spirit lifted; he plunged into deeper microscopic research.

Not just him—other logistics wizards in nearby units, after initial physiological analysis, followed personal expertise and inspiration along varied paths, launching intensive studies.