A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 309 Tearing the Soul Apart? I Only Trust Experts

"I understand! I understand everything!" Benedict exclaimed excitedly, "Why did our ancestors build this sacred place?"

Um... So, for a massive exchange of genetic material here? Rorschach still vividly remembered the story of the Lord of Order cracking down on prostitution, which the wise man had mentioned.

Rorschach wanted to interrupt the somewhat deranged elf, but the wise phantom pressed down on his shoulder, signaling him to let the elf finish speaking.

"The rift! The rift in the Shadowlands leads to both the main island and El Isle, allowing us to send the rebels directly to Storm City! This will be the foundation for the elves' rise, and our cause will reach new heights."

The wise man remarked sarcastically, "You don't seem to be a grey elf, do you? As far as I know, the vanguard of Hohor El was the high elves, because of their faith."

"Before, you were cannon fodder for humans, wielding knives against distant relatives. Now, you're using gray elves as cannon fodder to fight against humans. Shouldn't we praise you for your progress?"

The island's elves are closer in blood to the Elf King and Forest God Sylvanas, while the Grey Elves are culturally less advanced than the island's elves, and besides following the priests of Dryaz, many of them also worship the Danu gods.

To put it bluntly, when the dwarves and humans invaded, the elves of the two islands were compatriots. If there were no external enemies, the grey elves would be seen as barbarians by the elves of their own island. However, when even more barbaric barbarians arrived, the grey elves suddenly became valuable in terms of uniting the people.

Benedict suppressed his excitement and said seriously, "Sir, you misunderstand. Our resistance even includes humans; we are united by our ideals."

The wise man waved his hand: "No, no, no, I know all too well that the so-called resistance organizations in Storm City are nothing but a hodgepodge of opposition groups—opposing the king, opposing colonization, and opposing the oppression of El Isle."

"Right now, because of the Queen and the Knights' strength, you're like bits of pudding wrapped in sausage casing. Once the great enemy is gone, you'll start fighting each other again."

He blinked his eyes, which had witnessed a long history: "Just like what happened on this island after the old empire disappeared. You are nothing more than a buffoon trying to reenact the tragedy. What's more, you are asking Mother Earth for strength."

"Aren't you afraid that He will do what Is did back then, reaping the lifespans of you elves?"

Huh? Rorschach heard another shocking scoop from Mr. Dong: it turns out that the elves' degradation from a long-lived race to a "slightly long-lived" race is actually related to Is.

"You long-eared people, whether willingly or unwillingly, have all sacrificed your lifespans to Is. According to my idle research, Is's dark energy has polluted your genetic material, and the detrimental factors He has brought you will grow along with your bodies, destroying the normal genetic material."

"The worst-case scenario is that you will become His kin after reaching adulthood, but since Is was banished to the outer realms by the Lord of Order, you will at most die of cancer now, while most elves will age prematurely due to insignificant deterioration."

Benedict's already pale face turned even paler. He was merely an "actor," initially overjoyed by the hope he received from his ancestors, but now deeply shocked to learn how the island's elves had courted their doom throughout history.

From the perspective of a wise person's "brainwave mind reading," Benedict's frontal lobe of the cerebral cortex was flashing rapidly.

Finally, he murmured, "But there's no other way. We are the forsaken people of God. Only by gaining the support of the gods can we fight against them."

Rorschach and the phantom of the wise man both scoffed.

Rorschach: "The Empire overthrew the dominion of the Lord of Order without relying on God."

The phantom of the wise man: "All the gods you rely on will be defeated by the Lord of Light and Order."

They spoke at the same time, and the air suddenly became quiet for a moment.

The wise man stared wide-eyed and asked Rorschach incredulously, "What did you say? The Lord of Order has been defeated?" He spent most of his time in hibernation within the elven device, only obtaining information about Istani through those who entered the Shadowlands, and thus lacked knowledge of the continent's modern history.

He still believed that the new empire was a complete successor to the old empire.

How do you explain this? Rorschach told the wise man that it wasn't that God was overthrown, but rather that a group of farmers, with the little support of the sorcerer, overturned the church, while the god you mentioned was completely AFK the whole time.

The wise man was somewhat exasperated: "So this so-called new empire has neither vast territory nor a sovereign of faith or a commitment to human supremacy." He spat: "Neither sacred nor imperial!"

Okay, whatever makes you happy.

The wise man snapped out of his criticism of the false emperor, his expression turning grim: "It seems the situation is more urgent than I thought." He raised his staff again, and Benedict tried to dodge it warily, but this time the phantom didn't teleport to strike him. Instead, it cast a spell to put Benedict to sleep again, and didn't forget to cast it on Caroline as well.

Will there be any aftereffects? Rorschach thought the poor elf might find that her memory was fading or something after leaving here.

"We can't delay any longer. The era when the power of the Lord of Order protected all living beings is coming to an end. Mother Earth will surely awaken, and we must destroy the shadows as soon as possible."

"So how do I need to cooperate with you?" The idea that Rorschach inherited from the Tower of Stars could be used to create a spell super amplifier, broadcasting his [Great Disintegration] or [Expellation] spells to the entire area.

"First, I need to investigate in depth why you were pardoned by the power of order." With a flick of the sage's staff, a cold stone bed immediately rose from the stone chamber, and magical ropes, like small snakes, climbed up Rorschach's limbs.

"You're not going to dissect me, are you?"

The wise man revealed eight teeth; he was smiling now, but Rorschach couldn't. The sinister figure said, "Otherwise, how do you think I discovered the secret of the deterioration of the elven bloodline? Practice makes perfect, Rorschach, the mage."

Rorschach, already strapped to the platform, shouted, "I'm a once-in-a-century tool! If you use destructive research methods and fail, you can expect to be swallowed by Mother Earth along with the Shadow City!"

The wise man put away his wicked smile: "You make a good point, Master Rorschach. Therefore, I have decided to make backups of the experimental materials."

"Backup? You want to clone me?"

"Carving a dragon? What nonsense." The old mage shook his head. "To be precise, it's splitting in two. However, the soul isn't uniform, so there's always a trade-off when dividing it. You're lucky to have met a master in this field; I already have a complete plan."

Split souls? The only master I know of is Tom Riddle. Don't try anything funny.

Rorschach wanted to resist, but his hands were now tied. Graduates of the Imperial Royal Magic Academy were all Italians in the magic world. They could refrain from chanting, but if his hands were immobilized, he couldn't cast spells.

But he could still struggle for a while. He used the technique he gained from the Upside-Down Church for the third time, constantly absorbing and releasing magic in an attempt to construct a domain. Unfortunately, it was nothing more than an ant trying to shake a tree for the Sage's phantom.

The old mage simply nodded approvingly, sensing no threat whatsoever: "A promising talent." He slammed his staff hard on the floor, and Rorschach instantly lost all control of his magic. Controlling magic was originally his proud strength, but now he was like a dud deprived of his spellcasting ability.

No, he could still feel the magic surging violently under the other's control. The magic circuits on the stone platform lit up, and the holy statue began to shake, because the energy gathered at the "heart" was being channeled up for the use of the wise man's phantom.

Being crushed in the most basic skills was despairing, and he once again experienced the feeling in the illusion: he had no magic power of his own.

As the spell took shape, an irresistible force poured into Rorschach, as if boiling oil were being poured into his soul.

"ah--"

The details of the boy were no longer visible on the stone platform; only a green, humanoid ball of light remained, violently absorbing the energy poured in by the spellcaster and undergoing dramatic changes.

Because the energy had far masked the electrical activity of the brain's language center, the old sorcerer could no longer decipher Rorschach's thoughts. He didn't understand the last sentence he had "heard," and frowned, muttering to himself, "What does 'going to lose his nose' mean?"

(End of this chapter)