Magician in Type-Moon

Page 633

The air seemed to freeze in an instant.

The crackling of the fireplace flames and the faint sound of wind and rain outside the window seemed to have faded away.

Only Danic's chilling question remained, echoing in the blood-soaked ritual space.

White Winged Duke Tevanm Ottenrose remained silent for a few moments.

In the depths of his narrowed eyes, it seemed as if countless ancient wisdoms and assessments of novel possibilities were colliding fiercely.

Finally, a complex smile slowly bloomed on that aged face, a smile that mixed astonishment, mockery, and a hint of...admiration.

"A union of Heroic Spirits and Dead Apostles?" he repeated in a low voice, uttering the core of this insane idea.

"Although it is a bold idea that is almost blasphemous..." He shook his head slightly, as if lamenting its unconventional nature.

“...But…” His tone suddenly shifted, gleaming with the sharp light of someone discovering a new continent, “...surprisingly…successful!”

Chapter 659 Seduction (4k)

“As expected,” Danick’s face, which had been filled with a mixture of caution and ambition, instantly vanished, replaced by an approving, almost fervent smile.

He bowed slightly, his posture conveying just the right amount of respect, but the ecstasy deep in his eyes was hard to completely conceal.

"You also think this suggestion is...very constructive."

His tone was full of the implication that "great minds think alike," as if Bai Yigong's affirmation confirmed the brilliance of his plan.

however--

"Ah."

A cold, disapproving laugh, carrying the scrutiny of an absolute superior, instantly extinguished the warmth in Danic's smile like a freezing spring.

Whitewing Duke Tevanm Ottenrose's aged yet sharp gaze refocused on Danic, the playfulness and interest replaced by a cold skepticism.

He leaned forward slightly, and the invisible pressure belonging to the ancient ancestor of the Dead Apostles instantly became more solid, like a tangible hammer pressing down on Danic's heart.

“However…” Bai Yigong’s voice was low and slow, each word seemingly striking Danic’s nerves, “…What makes you think…”

He deliberately elongated his voice, creating a suffocating sense of oppression.

"...This... insane plan that blasphemes heroes and covets royal power..." He mercilessly exposed the essence of the plan, his gaze carrying a cruel scrutiny, "...can it actually be carried out successfully?"

This is not an exploration, it's an interrogation!

It is the ultimate test of the feasibility of the plans of those in power to those in lower positions!

No matter how grand the blueprint or how boundless the ambition, without a solid foundation to support it through countless fatal obstacles, it is nothing but a castle in the air, a foolish act that invites disaster! What Bai Yigong needs to see is not just "ideas," but the undeniable power to transform them into reality!

Faced with this piercing question, Danic's smile did not disappear; on the contrary, it blossomed even more brightly and confidently! There was even a hint of the hunter's smugness at finally revealing his deadly trap in that smile.

"Blood." He uttered those two words without hesitation, with crystal clarity. His voice wasn't loud, but it resounded like thunder in the ritual space, filled with the stench of blood!

Meeting Bai Yigong's suddenly narrowed, sharp gaze, he added decisively:

"Sufficient blood."

His gaze became incredibly intense, as if he were displaying an inexhaustible treasure:

"We can provide... the blood of every Dead Apostle in the world... who has been drinking blood for over a hundred years!"

Danic's smile widened, his expression brimming with absolute confidence in his stake.

He clearly caught the fleeting, genuine glint in Bai Yigong's hawk-like eyes when he heard "centennial blood"!

Although Bai Yigong was questioning him...

But this question itself precisely reveals the other party's...

Danic's mind was as clear as a mirror.

Instead of storming off or dismissing the issue, Bai Yigong raised a pointed question about its feasibility...

This in itself demonstrates—

This ancient and powerful progenitor of the Dead Apostles...

Indeed, we are seriously considering the feasibility of his almost blasphemous and insane plan!

Bai Yigong fell silent.

His aged fingers unconsciously and slowly rubbed the armrests of the leather sofa, making an extremely faint rustling sound.

“Is that so…” A hint of satisfaction finally appeared on the aged, rock-carved face of White Wing Duke Tevanm Ottenroche. He nodded slightly, his gesture carrying an ancient and unquestionable sense of authority.

"That's enough to build a blood pool... to support this plan."

He emphasized the words "blood pool" with profound meaning, as if he could already see the scarlet lake formed by a hundred years of blood, surging with life energy and ancient resentment.

However, this "satisfaction" was fleeting. His sharp, hawk-like eyes narrowed again, his gaze piercing Danic like a cold probe:

“But…” His voice suddenly turned cold, carrying a natural aversion and pickiness towards “inferior products,” “…what about the quality of the blood?”

He leaned forward slightly, and that invisible pressure spread out again, his tone filled with undisguised doubt and contempt:

"It wasn't extracted from your so-called 'artificial humans,' was it?" He accurately exposed the massive and "cheap" trump card of the Thousand World Tree Clan.

"This kind of... low-quality blood food, like water diluted with paint, lacking soul and historical depth..."

He shook his head, each word sounding like a ruthless denigration of the value of "artificial human" blood, "...that won't work."

For the founder of the Dead Apostles, who sought ultimate power and ancient flavors, these mass-produced "blood packs" were nothing more than swill!

"........."

The confident smile that radiated from Danic's "century-old blood" froze instantly, as if frozen by frost.

His slightly upturned lips slowly smoothed out, and a hint of gloom, as if his cards had been seen through, flashed across the depths of his eyes, but more than anything, it was shock at Bai Yigong's intelligence capabilities.

“It seems…” his voice lowered, with a hint of barely perceptible dryness, “…Lord Tevanm Ottenrose…you have investigated our Yggdrasil clan quite thoroughly.”

"Heh." Bai Yigong let out a short, dismissive laugh. He waved his hand casually, as if shooing away a tiny flying insect.

"Hundreds of thousands of androids..."

He stated that astonishing number clearly, his tone as calm as if he were discussing a pebble on the roadside, "...as long as one steps into your territory..."

He paused, his all-knowing eyes sweeping over Danic, "...It's a person..."

He deliberately emphasized those two words, as if to say, "As long as they're not blind or stupid, ...they'll be able to tell, right?"

The very presence of that massive army of androids is an undeniable signal, like a beacon in the darkness!

"..." Danic remained silent for a moment, seemingly processing the shock of being completely seen through. But he quickly recovered, and the solemnity on his face was replaced by an almost cold decisiveness.

"...Is that so?" He took a deep breath, his voice regaining its previous composure, even carrying a hint of resigned arrogance. "However, please rest assured."

He met Bai Yigong's scrutinizing gaze directly and promised, word by word:

"The 'blood' provided by the Yggdrasil race for this cooperation... naturally... would not have been extracted from those artificial humans!"

This promise was like drawing a clear red line between the two of them.

“So…” Bai Yigong looked at Danic with a sharp light in his deep-set eyes, as if it were a physical object.

That gaze seemed to pierce through the skin, looking directly into the mad blueprint deep within the soul.

This time, even the ancient progenitor of the Dead Apostles, who had witnessed countless rises and falls, conspiracies and ambitions, couldn't help but let a very subtle... unease flash across his eyes!

“...Those 'things'..." His voice was low and slow, as if stating a cold, chilling fact, "...they were used to wage war."

The conclusion is clear and brutal.

Although Bai Yigong had anticipated the size and ambition of the Yggdrasil clan through his investigation, when Danic so blatantly and indirectly acknowledged the ultimate purpose of those hundreds of thousands of androids by distinguishing their "blood origins"...

The sheer scale of the man's ambition and the madness of his desperate gamble still stirred something within this ancient progenitor of the Dead Apostles—a feeling that was beyond his expectations!

This is what I want...

Bai Yigong's gaze seemed to pierce through the thick stone walls of the castle, revealing a vast number of "man-made weapons" arranged like precision parts, waiting to be activated and deployed on the battlefield!

...Let's wage war against the entire Mage's Association!

With the power of a single clan, they challenge the Clock Tower, the Department of Law and Politics, and even the millennia-old order of the entire magic world! This is no longer a simple "ambition," but a declaration of war that is almost self-destructive!

however……

On Baiyigong's rock-like face, that cold, playful expression reappeared.

However… since this man before him… already wants to cooperate with him, the founder of the Dead Apostles…

The collaboration involves blaspheming heroic spirits, coveting the true ancestral kingship, and awakening the power of the six dark kings...

This in itself demonstrates—

Danic Preston Yggdrasil... and the Yggdrasil race he represents...

They had already staked their lives and future on this world-shaking gamble!

This determination to defy the entire world and gamble everything, this audacity to drag even the ancient patriarch of the Dead Apostles into the game, this insane plan itself contains the potential to change everything...

It is precisely the chip that Bai Yigong admires the most and is most willing to bet on!

.........

The figure of Whitewing Duke Tevanm Ottenroche, as solid as a rock, finally disappeared behind the heavy doors leading to the deep corridors of the castle.

The low groan of the door hinges turning echoed in the silent study, followed by the heavy thud of the door closing, as if sealing away the conversation that had just taken place, filled with ambition, probing, and deadly temptation.

Danic did not move immediately.

He still stood by that huge, now fully open "window." The cold night wind rushed in from the direction of the ceremony site, ruffling his neatly combed sideburns and bringing with it a mixture of charred wood and aged blood.

His deep eyes, like solidified amber, pierced through the air, locking firmly on the depths of the ceremonial field—on the suspended throne, on the projection of Vlad III, a figure shrouded in dark red light, exuding an aura of iron-bloodedness and resentment.

I don't know what I'm thinking about.

Was it the thrilling clash with the patriarch of the Dead Apostles? Or was it the cold-blooded calculation of the impending bloodshed represented by that "century-old blood"?

Is this an assessment of the endless dangers on the path of blaspheming heroes and awakening royal power?

Or was he weighing the ultimate gains the Thousand World Tree clan could reap in this all-or-nothing gamble? Countless thoughts surged beneath his calm exterior like an undercurrent.

After a while.

The heavy study door, which had just been closed and shut out the outside world, was silently pushed open again.