The thought of rescuing Asa flickered in Theodorus's mind for just a moment before being completely dismissed.
Indeed, if someone had to be rescued, Grutt and the elite Orford beastmen forces would undoubtedly be the best candidates. However, the person in question was simply not worth risking the lives of those attempting to save him.
Theodorus had to admit that Asa had helped him a great deal—his contributions were significant. On a personal level, Theodorus even liked the young man. But no matter how many emotional reasons existed, the moment cold, hard logic determined that the rescue was not worth the risk, all sentiments could be disregarded.
Even if Asa, out of gratitude, chose to permanently align himself with Orford after being rescued, his value to the nation would never surpass that of Grutt. Moreover, organizing a rescue would be an incredibly dangerous endeavor.
The calculations—every factor, every risk, every probability—flashed rapidly through Theodorus's mind, forming a complex equation. Within seconds, the conclusion was clear.
"Sorry, kid, there's nothing I can do..." Theodorus let out a long sigh. "Besides, our contract has already expired… You'll have to fend for yourself."
He folded the reports in front of him and brought them to the oil lamp's flame. The red and yellow fire flared briefly before reducing the papers to ash. For some reason, a lingering sense of melancholy settled in his heart.
He didn't even plan to inform Elaine of this development. Though he had great confidence in the Prime Minister's rationality, it was best to be cautious—after all, a woman was still a woman.
Rulers and leaders weren't necessarily cold and emotionless. They had feelings too. In fact, because they constantly had to think rationally and mechanically, they sometimes cherished emotions more than ordinary people. However, when it came to making decisions, emotions were never a priority.
Their lives had already become a part of their work. Sentiment was nothing more than a luxury.
Even the slightest decision that could harm or disadvantage Orford was something Theodorus would never consider. It wasn't just because this city was his life's work, something he had poured all his heart and soul into—it was more than that. In some ways, Theodorus believed Orford was far more important than his own life.
The founding of this city was an unprecedented feat, a monumental achievement in every sense. Perhaps it would even mark a turning point in the entire history of the continent. What was changing here was not just human history, but something greater—something broader, more diverse, and far more profound.
Whenever he thought about this, Theodorus couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. His heart, which rarely quickened for anything else, beat stronger, as if the blood coursing through his veins was no longer meant for his body but for Orford itself. For the sake of this grand vision, he would offer up everything—without hesitation.
Theodorus walked to the window. It was already deep into the night, and the sky was littered with twinkling stars. A thin crescent moon shone brightly, almost glaringly so.
People were small, weak beings—that was why they clung to grand, eternal things, hoping to borrow a sense of greatness that could transcend their fleeting existence.
Realizing he was having such sentimental thoughts, Theodorus let out a wry smile. It felt strange. His mind, once as objective and precise as a complex machine, had unexpectedly begun to stir with unfamiliar emotions tonight.
In the distance, the silhouettes of two birds flapped their wings before vanishing into the darkness. Theodorus furrowed his brows. The Wild Highlands weren't home to many birds, and those two... they seemed to be ravens—an unusual sight in this region.
"Could it be…" He pondered for a moment but then shook his head, dismissing the thought. Turning away from the window, he returned to his desk and sat down.
The Puppet Hawk Eye was a special magic that only the necromancers of Dehya Valley could practice. However, not just any necromancer was willing to invest their time and energy into this extremely consuming spell. Apart from Nimbras, it seemed that only Vadenina, a monstrous lich with nearly limitless magical power and time, had mastered it. Yet, both of them were clearly no longer capable of using such magic.
"It shouldn't be..." Theodorus exhaled slowly. Just as he reached out to grab a document from the table, he suddenly froze. His gaze locked onto the wall opposite him, staring blankly.
The wall itself was not unusual; what was unusual were the shadows upon it. The large oil lamp behind him cast its light onto the wall, projecting two shadows. However, from beginning to end, there had been no one else in the room. Judging by the angle of the shadows, the real figure casting them seemed to be standing right behind him.
Theodorus did not turn around to look. His instincts, even a subtle detection spell he had cast, failed to sense anyone behind him. And yet, he knew—he absolutely knew—that someone was there. Though he saw nothing, heard nothing, and even the room's temperature remained unchanged, he was certain of their presence. It was an instinctive reaction—he did not want to turn around.
"Is it you?"
In just the span of two blinks, Theodorus knew exactly who was behind him. He did not turn to confirm. He dared not. But he already knew.
"Ah. It's been many years." A voice spoke from behind him. "But you'd better not move—I don't want to see you."
Theodorus cleared his throat and asked, "Pardon me for asking, but what brings you here?"
There was a long silence before the voice behind him responded with a question of its own. "What do you think? Why would I be here?"
"No way…" Theodorus' voice suddenly turned dry. "I really can't figure out what reason you'd have… And weren't you supposed to have retired?"
"Enough with the nonsense. You know my ways. If you have anything to say, say it quickly. I'm only giving you this chance because we've known each other." The voice behind him was cold.
Theodorus fell silent for a moment before speaking again. His voice grew even drier, as if someone had poured hot sand down his throat. "Those two birds earlier… Were they really puppet hawks?"
"Yes."
"Were they yours?"
"No. They belonged to my client."
"Your client? Who is it? What did they offer to hire you? Perhaps I can pay more—"
"This is your final warning. No more nonsense. You know my rules."
Theodorus let out a muffled groan, as if pained yet helpless. In the end, he sighed deeply and said, "Then at least try to pass a message to my subordinates. They must find a way to counter this puppet magic reconnaissance as soon as possible, or else we'll stand little chance against the Church's forces."
"That's all?"
"No, there's more." Theodorus took a deep breath, then slowly said, "I've also heard that Dehya Valley… GUARDS!!!…"
With all his strength, Theodorus shouted the last syllable. In the next instant, at least five magical fire shields ignited out of thin air around him. A thick layer of stone appeared on his skin, and a whirlwind surrounded a ten-meter radius of his defenses. Even the massive desk was blown up by the force of the wind, with sparks of electricity and blade-like snowflakes swirling in the air.
This was a true instant-cast spell, from having no warning to casting multiple spells in the blink of an eye. The power and variety of these spells would easily place him among the five greatest mages on the continent. However, these spells had no effect at all.
It wasn't that the magic didn't work on the person behind him, but rather, by the time the spells were cast, the person was already gone. His throat had been slashed open, a deep wound cutting off the very words he was about to scream.
If the time from having no warning to casting the spells was a blink of an eye, then the time it took for this person to disappear and for the cut to appear on Theodorus's throat was no more than a quarter of a blink.
The cut on his throat was large, deep, and infused with strange magic. Blood gushed out like a fountain, spilling into the whirlwind he had conjured, spraying all over the room. The blood was bright red, forcefully spraying as if it had the same vitality and energy as the old man himself.
"Sorry, please die." The voice had already come from outside the room.