Wizard: Starting from the Skill Tree

Duke lifted the flap of his tent, revealing a space far more spacious than he had imagined, not the cramped temporary lodging of a military tent but a fully equipped independent space.

The ground was covered with a dark gray fireproof blanket, soft and silent underfoot.

Against the wall stood a wide single bed, already made with new bedding folded neatly.

At the head of the bed was a desk with an alchemical lamp atop, its light bright and steady.

Beside the desk was an embedded wardrobe, its doors closed, but through a small gap one could see a few backup magic robes hanging inside.

The tent itself was a high-quality alchemy creation, suitable for a variety of harsh war environments.

The fabric of the tent was not ordinary canvas but a silver-gray composite material, its surface flowing with dense rune patterns; from the outside, it appeared as an ordinary tent, but from within one could see the endless workings of these runes.

The defense function could withstand direct attacks from Level 3 and below magic, protect against external high temperatures and cold, and isolate poison gas and harmful radiation.

The internal space was expanded by a witch array, much larger than it appeared.

A cooling witch array in the corner was operating slowly, keeping the scorching air outside and maintaining a comfortable temperature within the tent.

There were also lighting, ventilation, and water purification features, and Duke even found a small magic water source device in the corner, which would pour out clear water when turned on.

This was a glimpse of the Six-Ring Tower’s war logistics—every wizard on the frontline, regardless of their power, had such a fully equipped haven.

Night fell, but the nights on Ashfire Continent seemed no different from the days.

The sky remained gray, the dark red halo had not faded but only dimmed slightly, like a coal fire about to extinguish.

Pinpricks of light appeared in the camp—some were alchemical lamps, others were magic radiance, or signal lights atop stone towers.

The light flowed within the pale blue energy barrier, illuminating the entire camp as if it were an island floating on a dark-red ocean.

After receiving supplies, Duke and his companions did not hurry back to their tents.

They walked slowly along the central path of the camp, familiarizing themselves with the terrain and layout.

"Hot." Leon walked at the forefront, one hand tugging at the neckline of his armor, fanning himself constantly, his forehead covered in sweat. "I’ve trained in heavy armor before, but never felt this hot. This damned place, even at night it’s this hot; how does one survive during the day?"

Edmond followed behind; his magic robe was soaked with sweat, clinging to his back: "I looked up the information; the surface temperature on Ashfire Continent remains at sixty to seventy degrees year-round. There’s no day-night temperature difference here, and the surface is solidified magma, excellent at retaining heat, making day and night temperatures about the same."

"Sixty to seventy degrees?" Leon’s voice rose sharply.

"Nothing can be done; that’s just how Ashfire Continent is," Edmond paused. "If we were in a zone with frequent volcanic activity, the temperature would be even higher. We’re just not used to it yet, but after a few days, it’d be better."

"A few days?" Leon sighed, "I wish I could return to the Wizard Plane right now for a cold bath."

Vera walked beside them, saying nothing, her gaze sweeping over the surrounding facilities.

Warehouse, medical tent, command post, barracks, alchemy workshop, teleportation array maintenance area—each site they passed, she noted silently in her mind.

Duke walked at the back of the group, his gaze skimming over those facilities.

The camp layout was as orderly as a chessboard; each path was numbered, each tent had a doorplate. Even newcomers wouldn’t get lost if they carried a map.

Passing through a barracks area, a few wizards sat around a tent, discussing something in low tones.

Their magic robes were dusty and stained with dark red splotches, and some bore scars on their faces, evidently fresh from the battlefield.

Their voices weren’t loud, but Duke’s hearing was sharp, and he caught a few words: "The furnace cluster in the southeast direction has been cleared..."

"Heard something happened with the twenty-first brigade..."

"Level 5 Lord? No, just Level 3 Peak..."

Leon heard it too and slowed his pace, hoping to overhear more, but as the wizards noticed them, they switched to spiritual power communication.

He had no choice but to speed up his steps to catch up with the group.

The peripheral area of the camp had an open space piled with spoils returned from the battlefield.

Magic metal ores were stacked into small mountains, their dark red surfaces gleaming with metallic luster under the lights.

Elemental crystals were packed in wooden boxes, the boxes open, displaying the blue, red, yellow, and green crystal stones inside.

There were also some corpses of fire spirits, casually piled in the corner; some were incomplete, while others remained quite intact, their dark red scale armor glinting coldly under the lights.

A few logistical personnel were counting supplies, picking and choosing beside a heap of ores with careless motions.

Leon stopped walking and stared at those elemental crystals for a while.

"Level 3 Elemental Crystal." He recognized a piece of red crystal stone among them, "Such a large piece would fetch at least two hundred million magic stones at a grand auction, and here it’s stacked in a box."

Vera glanced at him.

"Can’t be taken; these are war spoils, subject to rigorous accounting and distribution processes. Personal tampering with war spoils is disciplined by military law." Leon withdrew his gaze and said no more.

If they wanted it, they’d have to acquire it themselves.

According to the rules of the Wizard Plane, any wizard’s personal gains in plane warfare belonged solely to them, no matter how precious.