For the two who had never experienced the aura of the Black Star, the world-destroying Undead King remained nothing more than a legend. Even though they understood that, given the necromancers treated it as a prophecy determining fate, the weight of such a legend was not light. However, it was simply too inconceivable. While these two high-ranking mages could force themselves to rationally believe it, emotionally, they still could not accept that this magnificent world would soon be destroyed by a single monstrous being.
Tower Master Granden pondered for a moment before saying, "If necessary, we can provide all the magic scrolls from the Tooth Tower, including several high-level spells bordering on forbidden magic. If we also mobilize all our elemental mages, it's no exaggeration to say that we could level a small nation with ease…"
"The range of this undead aura appears to be no more than ten miles," added Master Edwina. "Even if it's filled entirely with skeletal dragons and other undead monstrosities, gathering all the forces here should be more than enough to annihilate them."
"The problem isn't the undead; it's the Undead King. Within his aura, undead creatures cannot be completely destroyed. Even if they are blasted to dust, they will slowly reform under the influence of the dark energy. Furthermore, the Undead King's power is no longer what it was when he first took form. He will not simply ignore his enemies—before unleashing the Apocalypse Judgment, his instincts will drive him to annihilate any obstacle in his path," said Elder Lloyd of the elves.
Though not much time had passed, he looked significantly older. Wrinkles covered every inch of his skin, making him appear like an ancient being of several centuries. Even his speech and movements carried the sluggishness of old age.
"Not even forbidden spells would work?" Edwina chuckled, finally tearing his gaze away from the map to look at Elder Lloyd. "In this situation, if you, Elder Lloyd, are willing to share some of the ancient elven empire's magical techniques, with our combined power, I believe we could create high-tier scrolls like Meteor Shower and Phoenix Summoning. As long as we keep using forbidden spells—"
"Heh, at a time like this, Master Edwina, it's best if you stop having such thoughts..." Elder Lloyd glanced at him. His eyes were so clouded that even black and white seemed indistinguishable, filled with an overwhelming aura of decay. "Even during the era of the ancient elven empire, when we poured all of our strength into stopping the elven king—who had transformed into the Undead King—from initiating the Apocalypse Judgment, we failed. And that was with the power of the titans and dragons alongside us… Believe me, even the magic of the two Tower Masters is nothing compared to the ancient elves' magical technology."
The two tower masters' faces darkened. They were stunned for a moment, but in the end, they said nothing. They simply looked at the magical map on the table and let out a long sigh.
"And haven't you noticed my condition? By human standards, I am still just a youth, yet I have no more than two or three years left to live. This is the punishment Fahma gives to all elves who dare to peer into forbidden power. And that's only because I showed you this map… Even if, by some miracle, this plan succeeds, this map will be utterly destroyed—along with me."
Edwina still seemed unwilling to give up. "Is there no way that Fahma could aid us? If it possesses such power—able to create the World Tree Leaf and the Sunwell—"
"Fahma is the Mother of the Earth, the Mother of All. The Black Star is the embodiment of all darkness and negativity accumulated from the living creatures across the continent. In a sense, it is Fahma's instrument to cleanse this world—purging a land that has become unstable due to the excessive activity of its inhabitants."
"What? Isn't Fahma the guardian deity of the elves? Then the World Tree Leaf and the Sunwell, which counteract the Black Star, aren't they also—"
"How could the great Mother of All favor one race over others? True greatness is impartial—do you understand the meaning of that word? To her, ants and dragons are no different; both are merely living beings. The reason some elves worship her is simply because, before the fall of the ancient elven empire, a rare few managed to attune themselves to her will and survived by following her rhythm. They chose to revere her, but it was a one-sided devotion… You must have noticed that even our lifeforce now depends entirely on following Fahma's will.
"As for the World Tree Leaf and the Sunwell, the mages of the elven empire created these artifacts by barely aligning themselves with Fahma's pulse. But I suspect… they are, in essence, the same as the Black Star—one is a condensation of life and vitality, the other of death and darkness."
"Why?" Lord Borugan's eyes bulged as if they might pop out at any moment, his mouth agape. "Creating two completely opposite artifacts? That makes no sense at all…"
"They are not completely opposite. Life and death are not opposing forces—they are one and the same. Without the World Tree Leaf and the Sunwell, the Black Star would not exist. Just as a person who is never born will never die, once born, death is inevitable. The Sunwell and the World Tree Leaf may not be equal in power to the Black Star, but they grant us a sliver of life's chance. This, too, is part of the Black Star itself—there is no absolute darkness or death. Even within the deepest blackness and death, there is the smallest trace of life… but it is up to us to fight for it."
"You're saying those two things are essentially the same?" Lord Borugan's face contorted with the strain of thought, his broad, pancake-like visage now resembling a pancake that had been kneaded and then punched. "That… still doesn't sound logical…"
"That is only your logic—or rather, human logic. Stop forcing yourself to understand things beyond your comprehension, just as a moss fungus that lives only in the morning cannot comprehend the existence of day and night. If you must have an analogy that you can grasp, we are nothing but specks of dust in the vastness of the world. Fahma has never watched over or cared for us, nor does she care for anything. She simply continues the world's evolution according to her own rules.
"The catastrophe we now face is merely another moment in an endless cycle of transformations, just as insignificant as all the ones before it."
Lord Borugan struggled to think it through but eventually let out a sigh. His distorted face snapped back to its original shape. "Sorry, I still don't understand what kind of nonsense you're spouting, you old mystic…"
"If you don't understand, then just let it be." Elder Lloyd chuckled, his deeply wrinkled face folding even further. His murky gaze swept over the group, taking in their varied expressions. "These are merely the speculations of a fallen elf—one who defied Fahma's teachings and sought truth recklessly. I was never meant to know these things in the first place…"
Master Granden and Edwina still wore thoughtful expressions, as if they had grasped something yet remained puzzled. Unlike Acting Leader of Orford, who was meticulous, full of drive, and accustomed to explaining everything through logic, these two top-tier mages—renowned for their unparalleled comprehension—could at least seize fragments of the meaning within.
"Knowing these things changes nothing. We must still do what needs to be done. Elder Lloyd, I doubt you brought this magical map here just to discuss philosophy," the Pope said flatly. His expression remained unmoved, leaving it unclear whether he had fully understood or not at all.
The female Prime minister cleared her throat softly, breaking the increasingly off-topic atmosphere of the meeting. "Enough with the deep philosophy and theology. Let's focus on something more practical."
Captain Roland's words were as firm and resolute as his gaze—direct and unwavering. "Just tell us, how exactly can we destroy this Necrolord? What can we do?"
Elder Lloyd nodded and began speaking, his voice so dry and decayed that it seemed to be withering away as he spoke. "Our only hope lies in the fact that this Necrolord is incomplete. That means, even though our ritual to gather power is also incomplete, we still have a chance… As long as we can gather all our forces, carve a path through the hordes of undead, and unleash the energy from our ritual directly onto the Black Star, we might be able to shatter its hilt…"
"Excuse me, what ritual are you referring to? I don't understand at all. Are you elves currently performing some kind of ceremony?" The Prime minister frowned.
Confusion was written across more than just her face—Captain Roland, Lord Borugan, and both Masters of the Tooth Tower looked equally puzzled. Only the Pope and Lancelote remained as composed as ever. The Pope merely let out a soft sigh and said, "Not a ritual being performed now, but one that has been endlessly repeated over the past ten thousand years within the Whispering Forest—embedding the power of the Sunwell and the World Tree Leaf into each new generation of the royal elven bloodline, waiting for the day when the Black Star rises again… to send that elf's chest beneath its blade."
"Exactly." Elder Lloyd glanced at the Pope. "This ritual, repeated countless times, was meant to prepare for the emergence of the Black Star. Finally, this time, it has a purpose. Unfortunately, the ritual was disrupted—by a human who broke into the Whispering Forest and stole the World Tree Leaf. All the power meant to be infused into the elf was absorbed by him instead. But that power is utterly incompatible with a human body, which is why this ritual is incomplete…"
"Fortunately, the Black Star is also incomplete—it's merely a hilt. So, there's still a chance, isn't there?" The Pope looked at Elder Lloyd. "In fact, if things had gone slightly differently, I would have completed this ritual for you… But now, completing it won't be so easy. At the very least, we need that man's consent. Or, to put it bluntly, he must be willing to die in exchange for the chance to destroy the Black Star. Of course, there is another way, but it would be… troublesome."
The Pope paused for a moment. Then, he and Elder Lloyd exchanged glances, an unspoken understanding passing between them. At the same time, they both spoke:
"Capture him and deliver him to the Necrolord. Let the hilt of the Black Star pierce through his body."
"Impossible. Realistically speaking, there's no way. No one has that kind of power. Even if we could capture him, there's no possible way to get him safely to the Necrolord." Lancelote interjected. "So in the end, everything depends on his own decision."
"Making such a decision…" Lord Borugan grimaced, shaking his head slowly. "That seems… too cruel."
No one responded. Everyone knew it was true. That was why their expressions were grim.
The one who looked the worst, however, was the young female Prime minister. Her face was pale, almost ashen, and her once steadfast and composed gaze was now vacant and unfocused.