Chapter 330: Sorry, Please Go Die (Part 2)

  The thought of rescuing Ethan merely flickered in Sedros's mind, almost before it had fully formed, it was completely rejected.

  Indeed, if there was anyone to rescue, the elite Oufu orc forces led by Gru would undoubtedly be the best choice. But the person to be saved was absolutely not worth the rescuer risking their life for.

  Although Sedros had to admit that Ethan had helped him a great deal and in very important ways, and he personally liked the young man, no matter how many emotional reasons there were, they could be completely negated by a single objective reason: it was not worth it.

  Even if saving him could, out of gratitude, make him permanently join Oufu, Ethan's role in Oufu, no matter how great, would not be greater than Gru's. And if they were really to organize a rescue, the danger involved would not be slight in the least. All the values, possibilities, and probabilities danced quickly in Sedros's head, converted into various data, and he immediately finished this incredibly complex calculation of addition and subtraction, reaching a conclusion.

  "I'm sorry, kid, there's nothing I can do... And, our contract has expired... You're on your own."

  Sedros let out a long sigh, folded these reports, and lit them with the oil lamp. The red-yellow flame flared brightly for a moment, then turned to ash in the blink of an eye. For some reason, he felt a sense of loss.

  He didn't even plan to inform Sophia of this news. Although he was very confident in this female Chancellor's rationality, to prevent any unforeseen circumstances, a woman was still a woman.

  In truth, those in high positions are not necessarily cold and heartless; they also have emotions. Perhaps because their work often involves too much rational and mechanical consideration, they might even cherish emotions more than ordinary people, but they just don't choose emotion when making a decision. Their person has become part of their cause; emotion is merely a luxury.

  Sedros would absolutely not choose any option that could cause even the slightest harm or disadvantage to Oufu. This was certainly the cause to which he had dedicated all his heart and spirit, but from a certain perspective, Sedros even felt that Oufu was far more important than his own life.

  The establishment of this city was an unprecedented feat from any perspective. It might even be an unprecedented turning point in the history of the continent. What was changing here was not just human history, but a larger, broader, and more diverse history. Whenever he thought of this, Sedros couldn't help but feel excited. That heart, which no longer got excited for anything else, beat more forcefully and diligently, as if the blood it pumped was not for his flesh but for Oufu. For the sake of a great cause, he could unhesitatingly sacrifice everything he had.

  Sedros walked to the window. It was now late at night. The sky was full of twinkling stars, and a sliver of a crescent moon was dazzlingly bright.

  Humans are insignificant and weak, so they like to attach themselves to great, eternal things, to give themselves the grand illusion of transcending their own mortality.

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  Suddenly realizing that he was having such a thought, Sedros gave a wry smile, finding it a bit strange. His mind, which had originally been as objective as a giant, complex machine, for some reason had some strange feelings at this moment today.

  In the distance, the figures of two birds fluttered, then disappeared into the darkness. Sedros's brow furrowed.

  The Barbarian Highlands were not a place where many birds came and went, and these two birds seemed to be crows, which would never appear here.

  "Could it be..." Sedros thought for a moment, then shook his head. He turned back to his desk and sat down.

  The puppet eagle eye was a special magic that only the Necromancers of Diya Valley could learn, and not just any Necromancer was willing to waste such extreme energy and time on this spell. Besides Nimbus, it seemed only a Lich monster like Vedenina, with almost inexhaustible magic and time, would practice such a spell, and it was obvious that neither of these two could use this spell anymore.

  "It shouldn't be, right..." Sedros let out a breath. He was about to reach for a document on the desk, but he froze immediately, staring blankly at the opposite wall.

  There was actually nothing strange about the wall; what was strange was the shadow on it. The light from the large oil lamp behind him shone on the wall, casting two shadows upon it. But from beginning to end, there was no one else in the room. Judging from the angle of the shadow, the real object casting it should have been behind him.

  Sedros did not turn to look. His senses, and even a small reconnaissance spell he subconsciously used, could not detect anyone behind him, but he knew with certainty that there must be a person there. Although he couldn't see them, couldn't hear them, and even the temperature seemed unchanged and the spell had no reaction, he knew someone was there. Because of an instinctive reaction, he did not want to turn back to look.

  "It's you?" In just the time it took to blink twice, Sedros knew who the person behind him was. He didn't turn to look; he didn't dare, but he could guess.

  "Ah. It's been many years." A voice sounded from behind him. "But you'd better not move. I don't want to see you."

  Sedros gave a dry cough and asked, "Forgive me for asking, but what are you here for?"

  After a long silence, the voice from behind retorted, "What do you think I'm here for?"

  "It can't be..." Sedros's voice suddenly became hoarse. "I really can't think of any reason you would have... And, shouldn't you already be in seclusion?"

  "Cut the nonsense. You know my habits. Say what you have to say quickly. I'm giving you this chance to say your last words only for the sake of our acquaintance." The voice from behind said coldly.

  Sedros was silent for a moment, then began to speak, his voice growing more and more hoarse, as if someone had sprinkled hot sand in his throat. "Those two birds just now, were they really eagle-eye puppets?"

  "Yes."

  "Yours?"

  "No, they belong to my client."

  "Your client? Who? What did they use to hire you? Perhaps I can offer more..."

  "This is the last warning. Cut the nonsense. You know my habits."

  Sedros grunted, seeming both pained and helpless. Finally, he let out a long sigh and said, "Then please find a way to tell my subordinates that they must find a way to deal with this kind of puppet reconnaissance as soon as possible, otherwise we will have little chance of winning against the Church's forces."

  "Is that all?"

  "No, there's one more thing." Sedros took a deep breath, then said slowly, "Actually, I heard that Diya Valley... is... co..."

  The last syllable was shouted with all of Sedros's strength, and in the next instant, at least five shields of magical flame ignited around him out of thin air. A thick layer of stone suddenly appeared on his skin, and a whirlwind surrounded him within a ten-meter radius. Even the huge desk was sent flying by this whirlwind, and in the wind were countless electric sparks and blade-like snowflakes.

  This was true instant-cast magic. From having absolutely no warning to casting these several spells, it took no more than the blink of an eye. And the strength and variety of the magic cast were firmly among the top five mages on the continent. It was just a pity that these magic spells had no effect at all.

  It wasn't that these magic spells had no effect on the person behind him, but that by the time these spells were cast, the person behind him was already gone. And his throat had been cut open with a very, very large gash, cutting off the sound he had just been about to shout.

  If the time from having no warning to casting the magic was one blink, then the time it took for the person to disappear and for the gash to appear on Sedros's throat was, at most, a quarter of a blink.

  The gash on his throat was large and deep, and it carried a strange magic. Blood sprayed from the old man's throat like a fountain, splattering onto the whirlwind he had conjured and filling the entire room. The blood was very red, and it sprayed with great force, as vigorous as the old man's own energy, full of drive.

  "Sorry, please go die." This voice was already coming from outside the house.