Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

The old man's heart wasn't in the wine, but in the scenery. Kal'tsit glanced at Wayne, already understanding somewhat.

Having Talulah do this wasn't aimed at Talulah herself, but rather at the "Drac bloodline" she promised. Wayne had originally planned to use Edward's relics to prove the Drac's extinction, thus further breaking the sacred covenant, but he changed his mind. Since Theresa was heading to the tundra to find the old Patriot, and he couldn't stop her, he might as well use a clever plan and bring Talulah back with her. Having Talulah, the "last Drac," announce the Drac's renunciation of their inheritance would be more convincing and authoritative—wouldn't that be wonderful?

If Sister Tower were smart enough, even if she didn't know about the reeds, she could understand some of the meaning of that sentence. But unfortunately, Little Tower in her military uniform didn't seem very bright, at least not as bright as Kal'tsit. Faced with Wayne's riddle, she could only frown, looking completely bewildered.

She now strongly suspected that Wayne was just looking for an excuse to lure her to Victoria, and then lock her up in a dark room. Wayne was indeed a merciful person, because compared to wiping out the infected guerrillas and her together on the snowfield, this ending was already quite good.

Having gone through so much and been possessed by Koschche, Talulah now understands many things, such as that her abilities are far from sufficient—not enough to be a leader, much less to lead a guerrilla force to survive on the snowy plains. If it weren't for Mr. Bochokasti's help, she would have died countless times by now.

But she was still somewhat unwilling to go back to Victoria with Wayne.

"I can agree to your conditions, but I would also like to propose a few conditions."

Wayne, seemingly nonchalant, stretched out his hand: "You bring it."

As long as it doesn't mean Vayne has to kill the Emperor of Ursus tonight, Vayne would consider it and it wouldn't be unacceptable.

"First: I want to take Alina with me."

“Alina?” Wayne was taken aback, a hint of joy appearing on his face, but he quickly suppressed it and nodded calmly. “Of course, she’s your friend, that’s only right.”

Frankly, Wayne was pessimistic about whether Commissar Alina was still alive. After all, according to the action report Winster submitted to him last night, the Black Serpent even possessed the ability to forcibly possess Talulah's body and unleash Originium Arts. At this point, Talulah's contamination must have been quite severe. Although she hadn't put on her little skirt yet, Alina was probably already in grave danger.

Winster did not mention Alina's name in the report. He only said that when Black Serpent was desperate, he chose to enter the village and massacre civilians, but was stopped in time by the Queen and others. In the end, he collapsed and disappeared, which led to the appearance of the mastermind behind the incident - the Ursus Guard.

Since Alina was already dead, Wayne was saddened for a while, feeling that his life goal had been left with a huge regret. Then, Talulah brought up Alina herself.

The fawn is still alive? Yay!

Wayne's mood suddenly became very good.

Talulah seized the opportunity to propose a second condition:

"Please take good care of the infected members of the guerrilla group... especially Mr. Bozocasti and Miss Yelena, Ino and Sasha. The first two's Oripathy has been worsening, but we lack medical supplies, so we haven't been able to treat them effectively. As for the latter two... they are both children. I met them in the grass and recruited them into the guerrilla group. They are both very talented archers and sorcerers, but they seem to have experienced a lot... a lot of unspeakable things, so their minds are slightly twisted. If I'm gone, please take care of them."

Miss Froststar and Patriot's father-in-law.

As Wayne listened to Talulah's words, he nodded. He had already informed Rhine Lab about these two in advance. Director Henry had instructed Chief Manager Menes to arrange two isolation wards for them. The two scientists, Himer and Saria, were also very interested in the unique symptom of Oripathy—the body becoming cold—and the Wendigo race's strong resistance to Oripathy. They had volunteered to serve as attending physicians while conducting some research on human symptoms within the permitted scope.

Scientific progress always requires sacrifices, and after much deliberation, Wayne approved the plan. He trusted Himer and Seria's consciences, and he also arranged for specialists to oversee human research in the medical field. Rhine Lab would also consult with Miss Yelena and Mr. Bozocasti at that time. He hoped that both sides could reach a peaceful agreement on cooperation.

Any research and understanding of orthophyte disease could become a stepping stone to overcome this medical challenge in the future.

As for Sasha and Ino... Wayne remembers that these two names seem to be the real names of Mephistopheles and Faust, right?

Although Wayne instinctively felt some disgust towards Mephisto, he wasn't petty enough to seek revenge across timelines.

However, children with skewed values ​​need strict education. Wayne himself may not have much time to take care of the children, but he doesn't mind sending them to Patriarch Broca first to purify their minds and receive moral education.

Wayne nodded and agreed to the second condition.

“The third condition. This is the last one,” Talulah said earnestly. “Your Highness Wayne, please don’t let down all those who believe in you.”

Wayne paused, staring into Talulah's eyes, before realizing that the determined Drak girl wasn't joking; this was her third condition.

“These conditions are not restrictive, Talulah.”

Wayne leaned on the table and stood up. Kal'tsit was beside her, and her gaze involuntarily followed Talulah's to Wayne.

"But I promise you. I guarantee it."

Wayne reached out to Talulah, who pursed her lips, seemingly relieved.

She wasn't a black snake; she couldn't cast spells, nor would she say things like, "You will understand me, learn from me, and become me." She only asked for a promise, because in her mind, a promise was the most steadfast thing. She had never broken a single promise she had made.

To a schemer, a promise is worthless, but to a good person, a promise is worth a thousand words.

Wayne is a good man.

Talulah believed Theresa's words, and even more so, the judgment given by the premonition in her heart at this moment.

Chapter 165 Let's go to Victoria together?

Ursus, the northern tundra.

It's been almost half a month since Theresa arrived in the tundra. She's basically gotten used to life there. Thanks to the supplies provided by Victoria, life on the tundra, while far from being as difficult as in Londinium, isn't too impoverished either.

Bozokasti stubbornly remained in his tent, though Talulah had left. For him, life had simply returned to its beginnings, perhaps even better, since he still had his daughter. Even without Talulah, the Infected guerrilla force "Shield" would become a spark of resistance across the Ursus tundra, a sharp blade against the oppression of the corrupt mines.

Theresa knew she would have a hard time persuading a Wendigo; the race's stubbornness was notorious even in Kazdel. But thankfully, Talulah had given her a very valuable piece of advice before leaving—to find Miss Yelena.

If Borokaste was an impregnable wall, then Lady Yelena was its only gate. Mr. Patriot traversed mountains and rivers, crossing half of Terra, from the Ursus tundra back to his homeland of Kazdel, all to find a magical amulet for Lady Yelena, who was suffering from Oripathy. His love for her was evident. Perhaps only Lady Yelena could persuade Borokaste.

"What are you writing, Theresa?"

Yelena pushed aside the tent flap, her light steps stopping beside Theresa. Children of the tundra never used formal titles with their close friends. Theresa didn't mind the unintentional slight offense between friends. Yelena peeked out and looked at the words Theresa was writing.

"U...Ursus? Ursus?"

Theresa nodded with satisfaction: "That's right, Ursus. The country we stand on, the place we live in now, is called Ursus. You've learned very well; you can already spell out the approximate pronunciation from the letters?"

Yelena nodded happily. During their time in the Northern Tundra, Theresa had been teaching her how to read and write, including in Ursus and Victoria. So, although Theresa was currently recording her feelings in Victoria, Yelena was surprisingly able to see some of it.

“I hate Ursus.” Yelena shook her head, probably thinking of some unpleasant memory, even her perked-up ears drooped.

Theresa patted her head with a hint of sympathy.

To be honest, although Yelena is almost twenty years old this year, she's still quite immature in some ways. Perhaps because her mentor was Patriot, who was also partially illiterate, her personality is very stubborn. Due to the side effects of her unique Originium Arts, Yelena is always the one who doesn't fit in. She can't integrate into the Infected community like Alina and Talulah, nor does she possess Patriot's aloofness, disillusionment, and lack of need for interaction with others.

Yelena, a beautiful 20-year-old girl, couldn't even give a hug to her childhood friends who were now fighting alongside her. She had nowhere to express the helpless bitterness in her heart.

What brought her all this suffering was the land beneath her feet—the Ursus Empire. It took away her parents, relatives, and friends, infected her with Oripathy, and deprived her of the right to live a normal life.

She didn't hate the country, probably because there were still infected people in the wilderness hoping for guerrillas, and villagers who would leave bread for them at their windows, and because the country hadn't disappointed her to the extreme yet.

Theresa gently took Yelena's hand. She wasn't wearing frostbite gloves, and soft light danced on her fingertips, slowly neutralizing the biting frost.

Yelena's eyes sparkled as she watched this scene, even though she had shown this expression countless times in the past two weeks:

"It's amazing. This is the first time I've ever been able to do this. When I shake hands with someone, I feel that my hands have a temperature other than cold."

The melting ice and snow are warm spring water. The snow rabbit, imprisoned in the ice and snow, is actually a person who treats friends like family and is willing to die for family.

Theresa shook her head: "It's not the first time, today is the thirtieth."

"Has it been this many times?" Yelena trembled in surprise, embarrassed and wanting to pull her hand back, but she was reluctant to give up the warm touch, until Theresa smiled knowingly and held her hand tightly.

“I still remember the first time you shook hands with me, you were so excited that you made up all sorts of excuses and came to my place ten times in one day.”

Thanks to ample supplies, the guerrillas now have almost one tent for every eight men, but because they are too conspicuous, the Patriots crammed nearly sixteen men into one tent. Theresa's tent was an exception; at the insistence of the Victorian soldiers stationed there, only Surtr and Mudrock were allowed to stay in Theresa's tent, and even Nine, who was with her, was kicked out.

"There's such a thing... let's not talk about it."

Yelena said somewhat awkwardly, her long ears twitching, somewhat replacing the function of her hands—Theresia felt that if she hadn't taken Yelena's hand right now, Yelena would be awkwardly unsure of what to do with her own.

To salvage her image, Yelena chose to skip the topic. She watched the light emanating from where her and Theresa's fingers had touched; those fleeting, snowflake-like points of light possessed a magical power. Yelena pondered this, and couldn't help but ask the same question again:

"There's a way for me to...not be so cold, is what you said last time true? Is there really a way to make me...not so cold?"

Theresa nodded seriously:

"Of course it's true. Yelena. Do you know what the light in my hand is called?"

"Originium Arts?"

"And what is its root cause?"

Yelena couldn't answer. Theresa explained:

"It's spiritual power. Originium Arts originates from the spiritual realm, which we also call the 'Consciousness Empire.' What I'm doing now is using my Originium Arts to shine and generate heat, offsetting the coldness of your Originium Arts."

“But your Originium memories are not…” Yelena recalled the light that shot into the sky from the camp that day.

Theresa shook her head: "There is more than one type of Originium Arts, and even a person can have more than one type of Originium Arts. It's just that being a jack-of-all-trades and master of none is not conducive to improving combat power, so most people will only study one type of spell. But in fact, most people can use the basic forms of Originium Arts, such as fire, wind, and water, after systematic learning. Light and heat are also among them."

The so-called Originium Arts aptitude test works on this principle. It involves having someone who has never used Originium magic try to cast a basic form of spell using a specially treated high-energy staff, guided by instructions. The Originium Arts talent is then judged based on how well the spell is used. This is the most basic and widely circulated aptitude test.

Theresa continued, "I used to think my magic was enough to handle most problems, until I met Mr. Bruce."

“Mr. Bruce? Wayne Bruce?” Yelena asked. “Is he stronger than you?”

Theresa smiled, a bittersweet smile mixed with pride: "You can't describe him as powerful. The gap is just too big."

I merely wield the Ten Commandments, possessing the power of ten top-tier Originium Arts masters, but he is someone who can directly conjure a battlefield of hundreds of thousands of people within the Consciousness Empire. Moreover, I cannot even be certain that that is his limit.

Being run over is not a pleasant feeling, but fortunately, the person who ran over her was her husband.

“Hmm…” Yelena tried to imagine the scene. It must be someone like her father, Patriot, with broad shoulders and a burly build, over eight feet tall, who could kill ten picket officers with one punch!

I wonder if he speaks in a mature and old-fashioned way like his father?

“His mental strength is far superior to mine, Yelena. If it were him, he might be able to completely warm you up from the inside out.”

Theresa spoke with a hint of persuasion.

She admitted that her conscience was a little aching, but she was not lying. There might be other warlocks in the world stronger than her, but there was absolutely only one warlock who could overturn the rules: Wayne. If Wayne couldn't help Yelena, then no one could save the White Rabbit.

“I see…” Yelena hesitated for a moment. Just when Theresa thought that this attempt at persuasion would fail as before, Yelena suddenly looked up:

What is the success rate?

Her eyes held a longing. She wanted to warm up and fulfill some wishes she once thought she could never accomplish in her lifetime. For example, to give her father a hug, to play with her siblings. To be able to shake hands with them when they met, to bump fists when they won, to lean on each other's shoulders when they lost, to fight back against each other with their backs, and to hold each other's arms when they rested, and to drink together the strong liquor and white porridge that used to burn their stomachs.

She wanted to try many things, things that were commonplace for others but unattainable ideals for her.

What is the success rate?

She asked again urgently, as if afraid that this was just a dream, a joke that Theresa played on her, a joke that made her feel desperate.

Theresa pondered for a moment before giving her answer: "Ninety percent."

The remaining ten percent is considered a favor from Wayne, given to this land that has caused suffering.

“Ninety percent…” Yelena murmured this unbelievable number, as if those ideals were right before her eyes, and she only needed to muster her courage and take a step forward to easily reach them!

She gritted her teeth and took that step!

Ursus, the tundra guerrillas, command tent.

Father, are you there?

"I have a suggestion."

"Shall we go to Victoria together?"