"I understand... I understand everything!" Benedict said excitedly. "Why the ancestors built this Holy Land..."
’Uh... to conduct a massive exchange of genetic material here?’ Rorschach still vividly rembered the Wise Man’s story about the Lord of Order’s crackdown on vice.
Rorschach wanted to interrupt the sowhat crazed Elf, but the Wise Man’s Illusion placed a hand on his shoulder, signaling for him to let the Elf finish.
"The rifts! The rifts in the Shadow Land can connect to the main island and El Island! This way, we can... have the Rebel Army descend directly on Storm City! This will be the foundation for the rise of the Elves, and our cause will ascend to a new level..."
The Wise Man interjected sarcastically, "You’re not a Gray Elf, are you? As I understand it, due to matters of faith, the High Elves were the vanguard on Hohol Island back then.
"Before, you acted as cannon fodder for humans, raising your blades against your distant relatives. Now, you want to let the Gray Elves be your cannon fodder to fight the humans. Should I praise you for your progress?"
The Elves of the main island are closer in bloodline to the Elf King and the Forest God Silvanos. In contrast, the Gray Elves are culturally less developed, and aside from the Priests who follow Deryats, many of them also worship the Danu Divine Race.
To put it bluntly, when the Dwarves and humans invaded, the Elves of the two islands were compatriots. But without an external enemy, the Elves of the main island view the Gray Elves as nothing more than barbarians. It’s only because a more savage enemy has appeared that the Gray Elves suddenly have value in a united front.
Benedict’s excited expression vanished. He said seriously, "Sir, you misunderstand. Our resistance organization even includes humans. We are united by our ideals..."
The Wise Man waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, no, I know all too well. The so-called resistance organization in Storm City is just a hodgepodge of opposition groups: those against the King, those against colonization, those against the oppression of El Island...
"Right now, the strength of the Queen and the Knight Order is holding you all together like a haggis stuffed in a casing. Once your great enemy is gone, you’ll just start a civil war among yourselves."
He blinked his eyes, which had witnessed a long history. "Just like what happened on this island after the Old Empire fell... You are nothing but a clown trying to reenact a tragedy. What’s more, you still have to pray to Mother Earth for power.
"Aren’t you afraid she’ll reap your Elven lifespans, just like Is did back then?"
’Huh?’ Rorschach had just gotten another earth-shattering piece of gossip from the old geez—sir. ’So the Elves’ degradation from a long-lived race to one that’s rely "slightly long-lived" was actually related to Is...’
"You Long Ears, whether voluntarily or not, all sacrificed your lifespans to Is. According to so research I did when I was bored, Is’s dark energy contaminated your genetic seed. The degenerative factor it introduced grows along with your bodies, destroying the normal genetic seed.
"The worst-case scenario was transforming into its kin after reaching adulthood. However, because Is was driven to the outer realms by the Lord of Order, the worst you’ll face now is death by cancer, while most Elves simply suffer from premature aging due to the less significant degradation."
Benedict’s already pale face turned ashen. He was rely a "Player," initially overjoyed by the hope he had inherited from his ancestors, but now he was deeply shaken to learn how the main island Elves had historically courted their own doom.
Viewed through the Wise Man’s "brain wave mind reading technique," the frontal lobe of Benedict’s cerebral cortex was flickering chaotically.
Finally, he muttered, "But there’s no other way. We are a race abandoned by the gods. Only with the support of a Divine Spirit can we fight against a god..."
Rorschach and the Wise Man’s Illusion scoffed at the sa ti.
Rorschach said, "The Empire overthrew the dominion of the Lord of Order without relying on any gods."
The Wise Man’s Illusion said, "Every god you rely on will be defeated by the Master of Light and Order."
...They spoke at the sa ti. The air was suddenly quiet for a mont.
The Wise Man’s eyes widened. He asked Rorschach in disbelief, "You... what did you say? The Lord of Order was defeated?" He spent most of his ti dormant within the Elven device, only gathering information about Istani from people who entered the Shadow Land, so he was lacking in knowledge of the continent’s recent history.
He had thought the new Empire was a complete successor to the Old Empire’s legacy.
How to explain this? Rorschach told the Wise Man that they hadn’t so much overthrown a god as a group of farrs, with minor support from Mages, had overturned the Church. The "Upper God" he spoke of had been AFK the entire ti.
The Wise Man was going frantic. "So this so-called ’new Empire’ has neither vast territory, nor faith in the Lord of Order, nor does it uphold human supremacy..." He spat. "It is neither holy, nor an empire!"
’Alright, whatever makes you happy.’
The Wise Man broke free from his critique of the "pseudo-empire" and his expression turned grim. "It seems the situation is even more urgent than I imagined." He raised his Magic Staff again. Benedict warily tried to dodge, but this ti the illusion didn’t teleport to knock him out. Instead, he cast a spell to put Benedict back to sleep, not forgetting to do the sa to Caroline.
’There won’t be any side effects, will there?’ Rorschach felt that the poor Elf might leave this place only to discover he had mory loss or sothing.
"We can’t delay another mont. The era when the Lord of Order’s power protected all living beings has ended. Mother Earth will inevitably awaken. We must destroy the Shadow Land as soon as possible."
"So how can I assist you?" Following the line of thought he had inherited from the Tower of Stars, Rorschach figured he could build a magical super-amplifier to broadcast his [Great Splitting Technique] or [Exile Skill] across the entire area.
"First, I must conduct an in-depth study of the reason you are pardoned by the Power of Order." The Wise Man lifted his Magic Staff, and a cold stone bed imdiately rose from the floor of the stone chamber. At the sa ti, Magic Ropes slithered up Rorschach’s limbs like little snakes.
"You’re not going to dissect , are you?"
The Wise Man bared his teeth in a wide grin, but Rorschach couldn’t manage a smile. The illusion said sinisterly, "How else do you think I discovered the secret of the Elves’ bloodline degradation? Practice makes perfect, Rorschach Mage..."
Rorschach was already strapped to the table. He yelled, "I’m a once-in-a-century tool! If you use destructive research thods and fail, you can just wait to be devoured by Mother Earth along with the Shadow City!"
The Wise Man’s evil smile vanished. "You make a very good point, Rorschach Mage. Therefore, I have decided to back up the experintal material."
"Back up? You’re going to clone ?"
"Clo... ne? What nonsense is that?" The old Mage shook his head. "To be precise, it’s splitting into two... but a Soul is not uniform. When dividing it, so trade-offs must be made. You’re very lucky to have t a Master in this field... Ah, I already have a complete plan."
’Splitting a Soul? The only master of that I know is Tom Riddle. Don’t you dare try any funny business with ...’
Rorschach still wanted to resist, but his hands were tied. Graduates of the Empire Royal Magic Academy were the Italians of the Mage Realm—they could get by without chanting, but immobilizing their hands rendered them unable to cast.
But he could still struggle for a mont. For the third ti, he used the technique he obtained from the Inverted Church, continuously drawing in and expelling Magic Power in an attempt to construct a Domain. Unfortunately, to the Wise Man’s... illusion, it was no more than an ant trying to shake a tree.
The old Mage just nodded in approval, feeling no threat whatsoever. "A good seedling..." He slamd his Magic Staff hard onto the floor. Rorschach instantly lost all control of his Magic Power. Controlling Magic Power had been his proudest strength, but now he was like a squib, stripped of his Casting Ability.
No, he could still feel the Magic Power churning violently under the other’s control. The Magic Circuits on the stone table lit up, and the Holy Statue began to tremble as the energy gathered at its "heart" was drawn up and used by the Wise Man’s Illusion.
It was despairing to be so utterly crushed in the most fundantal of skills. He once again experienced the feeling from his vision: not a single shred of Magic Power belonged to him.
The magic took shape. An irresistible force poured into Rorschach’s body, scalding his Soul like boiling oil.
"AHH—"
The details of the young man on the stone table were no longer visible, only a jade-green, humanoid mass of light. It pulsed violently as it absorbed the energy poured into it by the Caster, undergoing a drastic transformation.
Because the energy completely overwheld the electrical activity in the language center of the brain, the old Mage could no longer read Rorschach’s thoughts. He didn’t understand the last sentence he had "heard" and muttered to himself with a frown, "What does ’I’m going to lose my nose’ an?"
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