Chapter 432 - 413: Corellon Larethian

Chapter 432: Chapter 413: Corellon Larethian

"To wield such a complex yet delicately balanced mixture of powers within a mortal body, and to control them to such a degree... even forcing me to personally take over this imperfect vessel..."

His voice was level.

"Your potential far exceeds the limits of this mortal shell. And the thread of your destiny is far more... interesting than you know."

Corellon extended a hand toward Roland in an inviting gesture. Though his posture remained condescending, his intent to recruit was clear.

"Give up your struggles in this fragile mortal world, human."

"Submit to me, offer your loyalty. You will no longer be a pawn of fate, but a player privileged to weave its threads."

"I will guide you beyond the confines of this mortal shell, allowing the conflicting powers within you to find their true purpose and ascend. You will witness and participate in the true revival and reshaping of the Elf Race, and indeed... the entire world."

"That is far more meaningful than struggling in the mud against insignificant beings, is it not?"

Unlike the surrounding Elves, who were overcome by waves of emotion born of either faith or fear, this was not the first time Roland had come face-to-face with one of the Deities.

Thus, he was not plunged into a state of thoughtless tension or anxiety.

He took a deep breath. Inside him, the Primordial Core began to operate at an unprecedented speed, a silent, efficient furnace of energy. It frantically absorbed the scarce Energy from the surrounding space, rapidly replenishing what he had expended in the fierce battle and repairing the strain Dragonification had put on his body.

’As for Corellon’s offer?’

’A personal invitation from one of the Gods, a promise to transcend mortality and help weave the threads of destiny...’

’It certainly sounded unbelievably tempting.’

’But what was the cost?’

’Once I pledge myself completely to this god and lose my autonomy, what will become of me?’

’Will I become a useful tool in his hands? Or will I be observed and studied like a precious specimen, only to be discarded once I’ve lost my value?’

Roland didn’t know the answer for certain, but the fate he had just witnessed—Tula’s struggling soul effortlessly erased, his very existence supplanted—was the clearest warning he could ask for.

In the eyes of these Gods, mortals were just mortals. Even a seemingly important "collaborator" could be discarded like a pawn at any moment.

Therefore, Roland’s eyes narrowed. He suppressed the instinctual tremor that ran through him in the face of such divine might, met Corellon’s apathetic gaze, and slowly spoke.

"What if I refuse?"

"Refuse?"

The swift, unhesitating reply clearly took Corellon by surprise.

For the first time, an extremely subtle, almost stunned expression flickered across his flawless face.

The surprise quickly morphed into an indescribable mixture of pity and offended indifference.

The Elf Main God shook his head gently and let out a long sigh, a sound that seemed to carry all the exasperation one could have for mortal foolishness.

"Such a shame... to waste such unique potential."

Before the echo of his words had faded, Corellon raised his hand.

There was no Spell, no gesture, not even a discernible gathering of Energy.

It was as if his very will was the command that drove the Rules of the world.

In an instant, Roland felt the Magic Elements around him go wild, as if they had encountered the singularity at the dawn of the universe. They were uncontrollably and forcefully extracted, compressed, and funneled into Corellon’s body.

This wasn’t the crude siphoning Tula had used. It was an absolute mastery over the very essence of Energy, like a king summoning his subjects.

The next moment...

HUMMM!

Without warning, the ground beneath Roland’s feet transformed into a twenty-meter-radius area of an Oily Technique. Its viscosity and slickness were far beyond normal, and a Gravity Amplification effect was simultaneously applied, attempting to pin him in place.

At almost the exact same moment, dozens of Magic Missiles materialized in the air to his left and right.

They didn’t scatter randomly. Instead, as if guided by a master tactician, they split into three waves, separated by milliseconds, precisely blanketing every possible angle of evasion and sealing off any path for lateral movement.

Above him, a massive Spider Web Technique materialized from thin air. This was no ordinary web; it shimmered with the afterglow of Shadow and binding Divine Power, possessing a powerful stickiness and an energy-suppressing effect as it descended upon him like an inescapable snare.

And directly in front of him, Corellon merely gave a seemingly casual flick of his finger.

A silent beam of the Dissociation Technique, condensed to its absolute limit and no thicker than a finger, shot forth.

Its speed surpassed the limits of sight, aimed directly at Roland’s heart.

The beam was not merely an attack of Destruction energy; it was infused with a sliver of the Rule representing ’finality’ and ’annihilation’.

It was as if being struck by it would partially erase the very concept of one’s existence.

A trap, a barrage, a killing blow!

It was completely different from Tula’s attacks, which had relied on a brutish and unvaried application of Power.

Though they were still merely Low and Middle Tier Spells, Corellon wielded them with casual mastery. Supplemented by the perfect application of his fragmented Authority, he had constructed a flawless, interlocking death trap in an instant.

The effect of each spell was maximized and perfectly coordinated with the others, creating a situation of absolute tactical dominance.

Roland’s pupils constricted to dangerous pinpricks.

The shadow of death had never felt so clear, so cold.

He let out a suppressed roar as his Dragonified body exploded with its full potential.

Within a hair’s breadth of space, his body twisted and changed direction in ways that defied logic.

His Dark Gold Dragon Scales clashed with the incoming Magic Missiles, sending out a shower of blinding Sparks.

He narrowly avoided the beam, but the edge of the Dissociation Technique still grazed his left shoulder. It tore away a small patch of Dragon Scales and flesh, leaving behind an empty, agonizing pain, as if a part of his existence had been simply "evaporated."

BANG!

Gritting his teeth against the searing pain, Roland forcibly shattered the viscous oil beneath his feet.

He paid the price of enduring the amplified gravity to leap backward, but the Shadow web from above had already descended.

A sticky strand from its edge brushed against his right leg. A powerful binding force and a sense of energy suppression instantly washed over him, causing his movements to falter once more.

Meanwhile, Corellon’s second wave of attacks was already forming.

He hadn’t even moved. He simply watched calmly as Roland struggled within the web of death he had so meticulously woven, as if admiring a living work of art.

Roland was covered in blood, his Dragon Scales shattered in multiple places, his breathing ragged.

Under the God’s casual yet masterfully precise attacks, all he could do was desperately dodge and parry, each move a hair’s breadth from disaster.

It was like dancing on a wire above a bottomless abyss; he couldn’t even mount a single proper counterattack.

All his skill, all his Power, seemed pale and useless in the face of absolute suppression born from superior experience and mastery over the Rules.