e-booksonline Chapter 101 Covert Clashes and Turning Points
Chapter 101 Covert Clashes and Turning Points
Chapter 102 Covert Clashes and Turning Points
Just as the atmosphere on the scene reached its peak, with the revelry of the dark wizards and the restraint of the white wizards in stark contrast, a figure appeared at the entrance of the hall—it was none other than Berg, the second-level wizard who had been so respectful to Mochamo earlier.
At this moment, Berg's face had long since lost the submissiveness he had shown before the tower master, replaced by an arrogant and condescending demeanor.
He walked unhurriedly to the center of the hall with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping across the entire room with a sense of superiority as if he were representing the tower owner.
"Gentlemen."
Berg cleared his throat, deliberately raising his voice a few decibels to make sure everyone could hear him.
"Lord Mochamo asked me to tell everyone: he's exhausted and needs rest most of all! It's alright, please go back! Don't linger here!"
"It's quite a drain!"
These four words were like sparks thrown into boiling oil, instantly igniting the entire hall!
The dark wizards were taken aback at first, then burst into even louder cheers and laughter!
Significant losses? What else could it be? Of course, it's that earth-shattering battle!
Lord Mochamo himself admitted it!
This is simply the most powerful official certification!
They straightened their backs even more, their eyes filled with blatant provocation and mockery as they looked at the white wizards.
Look, your boss got killed by our boss! The Silent Forest is the strongest place in Icarus! The era of us black wizards has arrived!
The Silent Forest was originally the leader of the Black Wizards of Aikar, and now their leader has displayed "miraculous" power.
How could these vassal forces not be overjoyed?
The white wizards opposite them turned deathly pale instantly.
The older white wizard representative suppressed his surging blood and stared at Berg, his voice trembling slightly:
"Wizard Berg, Lord Mochamo—is that really what you said?"
Berg chuckled, his chin slightly raised, his eyes filled with disdain:
"What? You think I would dare to falsely convey the Tower Master's orders?"
He looked around, basking in the adoring gazes of the dark wizards, and his tone became even more arrogant.
"If the tower master doesn't want to see you, what excuse do you need? Are you even worthy?"
"Exactly! Get out of here!"
"Get out of my way! Hahaha!"
The dark wizards immediately joined in the commotion, unleashing a barrage of nasty jeers.
Hearing the mockery around him and seeing Berg's arrogant and unquestionable face, the older white wizard representative knew that staying any longer would only bring him humiliation.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, and nodded slightly in Berg's direction.
"In that case—we won't disturb Lord Mochamo's rest any longer. Farewell."
Having said that, he led a group of white wizard representatives, their faces ashen and filled with shame and indignation, away from the Silent Forest amidst a cacophony of shrill laughter.
Watching their disheveled figures, Berg curled his lip in disdain and muttered under his breath, "Hmph, if it weren't for the Tower Master's orders—I really would have kept them all here."
His inflated sense of superiority made him feel that these white wizards were not worthy of setting foot in the Silent Forest.
Deep in the silent forest.
The noise of the hall could not reach the innermost secret chamber of the Silent Forest.
Mochamo sat alone on the cold seat, his face ashen.
He was toying with an unassuming gray communication stone in his hand—this was what the white wizards' representatives had used in the chaos.
It was given to him through an extremely secretive channel.
Mochamo knew that things had already blown up outside. Berg's stupid remarks about "expending a lot of energy" had further humiliated the White Wizard and the hatred of the Tower of Eternity.
If no action is taken soon, a wizarding war that will engulf the entire city of Aikar and cause rivers of blood will be inevitable!
He, the Silent Forest, might even become the target of all the white wizard factions!
He took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind, and slowly poured a wisp of pure magic into the communication stone.
A faint ripple spread across the surface of the communication stone, and an aged, weary voice, yet imbued with astonishing power, resounded directly in his mind:
"Mochamo—I need the truth."
The owner of the voice was one of the pillars behind the Eternal Tower, an ancient monster who had lived for countless years—
Renkel.
Mochamo didn't waste any words, getting straight to the point, his voice deep and clear:
"Renrike, listen: I didn't kill them. They all perished deep in the Kursk Desert. As for who the enemy was—I cannot say."
He emphasized the last three words.
A long silence fell on the other end of the communication stone, as if time had frozen.
Mochamo could only imagine the uncertain mood on Lenrke's wrinkled face at that moment.
He knew that Renkel possessed some kind of powerful lie-detection or perception-based magic, so every word he had just said was true—except for concealing Hick's existence.
After a long silence, Renkel's voice came again, tinged with understanding and a deeper gravity: "You didn't lie—"
But who is the killer?
Clearly, his sorcery confirmed the truthfulness of the first part of Mochamo's words, but he also sensed the concealment in the second part.
Mochamo was not surprised by this; he had long known that the old man was difficult to deal with.
"The murderer—has perished along with Carrot and the others."
He gave a vague answer that could temporarily quell the other party's anger—a half-truth, half-lies.
The murderer did indeed nearly die, and Carrot and the others did die because of him.
There was another suffocating silence.
Clearly, Renkel was not satisfied with this answer.
What he needs is a specific name, a target for revenge.
"Mokamo," Renkel's voice suddenly turned sharp, carrying an undeniable sense of pressure, "who... is the murderer?"
He pressed on, each word deliberate and forceful, like an invisible hammer striking Mochamo's mind.
Mochamo's face instantly turned extremely sinister, and a surge of forced anger rushed to the top of his head.
He abruptly rose from his throne, growling at the communication stone with a voice filled with raging magic:
"Renrike! I'm releasing my mental defenses and cooperating with your mantra rhythm," that's the greatest sincerity I can offer!
I said I can't say, and that's final! Don't force me! Fine, let's go to war! Do you really think I, Mochamo, am afraid of your Eternal Tower?!
His roar echoed in the secret chamber, filled with the oppressive aura of a third-level archmage and a determination to perish together with the enemy.
There was another long silence on the other end of the communication stone, this time a silence tinged with deliberation.
Renkel clearly sensed Mochamo's determination and understood that further questioning would only ignite a war. Without being able to ascertain Mochamo's true strength, the Tower of Eternity was not necessarily confident of victory.
Finally, Renkel's voice rang out again, regaining its previous weariness and calmness, but with a hint of compromise:
"—Alright. I'll send people to the Kurs Desert to retrieve their remains. Meanwhile, the Tower of Eternity will announce that the true culprit has been killed."
Mochamo breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that this was the other party trying to save face and a delaying tactic to avoid an immediate war.
He immediately seized the opportunity to state, "Very good. I will also issue a statement to clarify the misunderstanding."
He emphasized the word "misunderstanding".
"That's for the best." Renkel's voice carried a weary tone, as if the dust had settled.
As he finished speaking, the communication stone in Mochamo's hand emitted a soft sound and instantly turned into a small pinch of fine gray powder, which fell through his fingers.
Mochamo stared at the powder in his hand, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He muttered to himself, "Hmph, this old guy isn't quite dead yet—could it be that his insane plan—actually succeeded?"
The very existence of Renkel was a huge threat, which kept the alarm bells ringing in his mind.
He waved away the powder, sat down again, his brow furrowed, pondering the possible storms to come.
The pages of the catalog flew across Hick's fingertips, and countless bizarre, dangerous, and deadly body modification plans and biological experiment reports flashed before his eyes.
Most of them are marked in scarlet with "high risk", "failure", or "theoretically feasible".
It terrified him, yet he had no choice but to grit his teeth and continue searching.
"Enhance the monitor lizard's rapid healing factor—no, the rejection reaction will instantly burn away the last bit of her life force." Hick crossed out an item in frustration.
"The adaptive symbiosis of the deep-sea monstrous sunflower—damn it, this thing will drain her dry as nutrients first!" Another proposal was rejected.
"The pure energy of an elemental spirit—ha, don't be ridiculous, she can't even withstand the lowest level of elemental vibration, she'll just turn into fireworks?" Hick's voice was filled with desperate self-mockery.
As each proposal was rejected, Hick's heart sank deeper and deeper into a cold abyss.
These plans are not only dangerous, but most of them remain in the theoretical or rudimentary early experimental stages, with no chance of success whatsoever.
Even if you want to use experiment points, there has to be a possibility!
The dead ends his mentor had encountered were more numerous and more desperate than he had imagined.
Ginny's body was like a glass cup covered with spiderweb-like cracks; any external force would only hasten its complete shattering into dust.
Exhaustion and immense anxiety surged like a tidal wave, repeatedly assaulting his taut nerves and nearly drowning him.
Just as he was about to give up the search, his finger unconsciously lingered on a yellowed page with unusually messy handwriting.
It was as if the report had been forgotten in a corner.
A completely new title, one he had never noticed before, suddenly caught his eye like a glimmer of light in the darkness:
Biological Characteristics Analysis of the Monster Moon White Fox and its Feasibility Study for Application in Ginny Elvis's Body Modification