Fang Senyan gave a slight smile. "That's because I don't belong to the Middle-earth continent to begin with... Besides, I have a special mission here, which is why things are this way. Notice the door ahead, yes, only push the one on the left."

The two spoke as they walked directly to the third floor. Upon reaching this level, Fang Senyan’s expression turned grave. "This floor is Saruman's modification chamber. There should be at least one tentacle monster monitoring inside. The temperature must be constantly regulated, otherwise, the Uruk-hai being manufactured will spiral out of control. Can you take it down quickly?"

Wu Zun hesitated for a moment. "I should be able to. As long as it isn't one of the exceptionally massive ones."

Fang Senyan nodded, making a gesture to Wu Ge to prepare to open the door. He then began counting down: three, two, not one!!! This was because Fang Senyan had forgotten that Miss Wu Ge had no comprehension of the universal tactical hand signal from the reality world: "Three, two, one, READY.GO!"

He merely saw the normally clear-as-water pupils of Miss Wu Ge suddenly deepen, and then from her raised, slender, white fingertips, an Ancient Elven divine script, blazing with brilliant gold, rapidly floated out. It shifted shape in the air, and then a surging, overwhelming power bore down upon them. The divine script finally coalesced into a golden chain that, with a sharp shala, blasted directly through the stone door before them!

Dawn, Vow-Binding Lock!!

A tentacle monster was poking and prodding at the adjacent modification trough with its appendages. The dense cluster of eyes growing around its head was indeed reputed to offer 24/7, zero-blind-spot surveillance, but against the golden chain that seemed to fly from beyond the heavens, moving with divine agility in the air, it possessed absolutely no power of resistance.

Wu Ge’s slender fingers formed a gesture, blossoming like a fresh flower, and then the golden chain began to intertwine and weave in the air, forming a magnificent, uniquely styled golden padlock that clamped down directly onto the monster's brow!

The tentacle monster froze rigidly in place. Wu Ge walked directly forward, her left hand forming three or four gestures in the air in quick succession. The great golden lock swiftly reverted to a chain, then dissolved back into the golden Elven divine script, finally vanishing into Wu Ge’s fingertips.

The tentacle monster collapsed onto the floor, dead.

At this moment, the expression on Wu Ge’s face showed considerable astonishment; in truth, she herself had never anticipated that the power of this single strike would be so potent! Fang Senyan, however, seemed to have reached a sudden understanding. Judging by the sheer power of this technique, it was not entirely unreasonable that it took Rivendell a full three hundred and seventeen years before a single Dawn-Elf appeared.

What followed was self-evident—the defenders within the Wizard’s Tower were already in a state of extreme weakness, and the traps laid by the Orcs were child’s play for Fang Senyan. Soon, the pair breached the fourth level. This was Saruman's research dissection chamber, where three Uruk-hai were performing menial tasks. However, Miss Wu Ge instantly hurled three Dawn-Oracle Spears, piercing their chests and transforming them instantly into Treant puppets!

In the vast space stood seven or eight crude, thick wooden tables. The flagstones beneath were crisscrossed, exuding a savage atmosphere. On the tables lay numerous organs such as hearts, livers, stomachs, and kidneys, while disemboweled Orc corpses were piled up in the corner like refuse.

Black blood pooled on the floor, even congealing into rock-like clots. The pungent, fishy odor made Wu Ge immediately frown; she released a Nature spell to cloak her body.

Fang Senyan’s gaze, however, settled upon an extremely ordinary-looking door at the far end of the hall. This door appeared to be made of oak, utterly unimpressive, and sported visible cracks through which one could easily glimpse the scene inside. Yet, Fang Senyan knew this was an illusion—for opening this door led to the passage to the fifth level of the Tower.

As the saying goes, finishing the last ten miles of a hundred-mile journey is the hardest part. From this point forward, Fang Senyan and his companion would no longer face crude mechanisms or shallow physical traps, but the true defensive measures of the Wizard’s Tower.

This implied that destructive runes forged from Isildur Metal would be embedded in every location imaginable, leading to the certainty that the pair were about to face numerous immense dangers, including but not limited to: potent spells and magical traps such as strong acid, fire, storms, lava, spikes, poison gas, and even summons from other planes.

The golden Ancient Divine Script flared once more before Fang Senyan. Wu Ge unleashed the Dawn-Oracle Spear again, that spell of considerable might. The golden spear abruptly tore through the wooden door, and then the seemingly transparent space rippled like water before swallowing the golden spear whole.

In that instant, light flashed, and black and white magical textures interwove and swept by. When the dust settled, a staircase constructed of pure white mica stone, curving upward, stood revealed before Fang Senyan and Wu Ge. Etched into the wall beside the steps in bold characters were the words: City of the Silver Stream…… The upward-curving staircase did not look long; standing below, one could even see the floor of the topmost level. The handrail of the stairs shone with a metallic luster. While it lacked ostentatious grandeur, it possessed the solemn majesty befitting a monarch!

At this stage, conventional physical common sense ceased to apply. The very construction of the Wizard’s Tower was based on the natural sciences, such as arcane geometry and potion lore.

The only encouraging news was this: strictly speaking, the Tower essentially had only one level, and the array of magical traps and mechanisms was closely linked to the Tower’s count of stories. Moreover, the one overseeing the Tower was likely still engaged in battle with that giant octopus, which would undoubtedly reduce the power of the Tower's defenses by over 50%.

Fang Senyan pondered briefly. Though he was unskilled in identifying and disabling magical mechanisms, he had possessed a full Perception of 25 points when he entered as an apprentice. Therefore, his considerable perception would warn him of areas posing fatal threats. He pointed out all the locations where he had felt significant danger, finally allowing Wu Ge to strike with precision.

After considerable effort, the passage was riddled with holes and choked with foul air—even four of the six characters spelling City of the Silver Stream had been blown away. Moreover, Miss Wu Ge’s stock of thirteen solidified Ancient Elven Divine Scripts had been depleted down to just three.

Wu Ge’s complexion was considerably paler. Although her eyes remained as clear as water, they held a distinctly visible fatigue. Fortunately, once an Ancient Elven Divine Script had formed, it wouldn't vanish entirely; only its stored magic would be exhausted, and it would gradually recover through meditation and rest.

As the final magical mechanism was overcome, an ear-splitting alarm blared throughout the entire Wizard’s Tower. The sound was like a crazed female ghost screaming shrilly, seemingly endless and eternal. The noise spread beyond the Tower to encompass the entire Orcish city, echoing mournfully between the snowy peaks, sounding far more potent than any real-world air-raid siren.

Hearing the banshee’s cry, Fang Senyan rejoiced immediately. This was clearly Saruman’s clone's final gambit. When setting up this series of magical defenses, he had employed this most primitive and desperate method. Whether the final layer of the Tower’s defenses was breached violently or opened normally, this terrifying shriek would erupt, roaring across the Orc encampment. If Saruman did not use Thunderwave within five seconds to signal that all was safe, every Orc would be required to rush over instantly.

However, the Orcs left guarding the camp at this moment were almost entirely the old, the weak, the sick, and the injured. Fang Senyan estimated their total number was likely fewer than ten! Even if these wretches dared to come to the rescue, the three Treants alone would be enough to dispatch them. Fang Senyan and Wu Ge looked down from above and breathed a huge sigh of relief upon seeing the sparse few limping Uruk-hai hurrying towards the base of the Tower.

Time was pressing now; the pair hurried upstairs. The fifth level of the Tower was not large, only about one hundred square meters. In the center stood a massive testing table made of a smooth stone material, very similar to marble, though the surface clearly bore traces of magical fluctuations—it was likely fixed with a minor spell like Cleansing. On the table were several sets of rather grimy crystal alchemy apparatuses, along with microscopes, crystal spheres, and other items.

Along the walls were several large chests, appearing to be forged from a bronze-like metal, looking exceedingly sturdy and solid. Fang Senyan opened them in sequence, and a series of prompts, both delightful and maddening, assaulted his ears.

"You have discovered a precious metal: Mithril (0.65 lbs)."

"Mithril is a hundred times more valuable than gold, a metal for which every person in the world would fight tooth and nail. It possesses the ductility of bronze and can be polished like glass. Dwarves can forge it into metal stronger than steel yet light as a goose feather. Its beauty rivals ordinary silver, but Mithril’s luster does not fade with time. It has an elasticity like cloth, a coldness like ice, and a hardness like steel."

"Its most precious trait is its rare magical affinity among metals, meaning armor imbued with Mithril, or weapons forged with it, will not impede the casting of spells, while still retaining the sharpness and resilience of steel. This grants spellcasters a substantial combat advantage. The Mines of Moria were the only known source of Mithril in the Third Age, though there are indications of smaller yields in Númenor and Aman."

"You have discovered precious gems: Ruby *3, Sapphire *4, Cat’s Eye *2."

"These rare gems, when set, can utterly transform equipment; any single one could purchase 1000 slaves in any kingdom."

"You have discovered three pounds of Adamant: This exceedingly hard, rare metal can improve the quality of weapons or armor. Weapons forged from Adamant possess a natural ability to ignore hardness, allowing them to bypass any hardness value less than 20 when breaking weapons or attacking objects. Armor forged from Adamant grants the wearer damage reduction; typically, only metal weapons, armor, and shields can be crafted with Adamant. Weapons, armor, and shields made of Adamant instead of steel have one-third more durability than ordinary items."