Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 3121: Suicide Over Life of Slavery – I

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Lil’ Red Storm Realm

Thalorien’s bloodshot eyes glared at Dalia. He knew she was provoking him, but he was helpless to ignore the words she had chosen. They struck directly at one of the possibilities that had already begun haunting his mind.

Now that he understood that the force behind Dalia might be on par with the Demon Merchant Code itself, his immediate concern was no longer escaping, but the Froslings and the Half-Bloods.

Thalorien could still sense the cursed, semi-Ruler-class Half-Bloods buried across the crust of the Lil’ Red Storm Realm. Their presences remained faint but unmistakable. The Froslings, however, were nowhere to be found.

They had simply vanished. He had sensed no outward teleportation when he arrived at the realm void. Yet now Dalia was telling him that they had already yielded. Sworn to serve her brother for eternity. Thalorien’s stomach sank. If that was true, then the consequences were far more terrifying than merely losing his research.

He knew exactly what the Froslings and Half-Bloods had suffered under his hands. He knew how many had been treated less than beasts and even subjected to his experiments.

If they now belonged to a powerful ancient ruler class force, now that they had the strength along with every reason to act on their grudge against him and the Snow Elven race, what would stop them from seeking revenge? Surely not the force backing them.

Thalorien had spent his life trying to secure the future of the Snow Elves. Yet in pursuing that future, he had created beings who now possessed every reason to hate his race and they now possessed the strength to act on it. The thought made his blood run cold. His eyes slowly narrowed as he looked at Dalia.

“Despite their past, Froslings are a relatively peaceful and less aggressive race. From what I’ve seen, most of them seem prepared to put their past behind them and move on with their lives. Of course, there are always a few oddballs.” Dalia deliberately let her gaze linger on Thalorien before continuing while her smile widened. “But the Frost Elves, that is what we call the Half-Bloods here, hold a deep grudge against you, Thalorien. And not just you. They hate the Snow Elves who helped you with your experiments. Once you’re dead, they will have plenty of time to settle that grudge. They won’t need to rush. They can take their time dismantling the very race you dedicated your entire life to protecting.”

Dalia’s words were meant to provoke him, and they succeeded. Yet strangely, the desperation in Thalorien’s eyes began to ease. Because unlike an ordinary threat, this was something he could actually evaluate.

He had ruled over the Froslings for millennia. He had studied them, experimented on them, and observed their behavior across generations. He knew their nature better than almost anyone alive. And Dalia’s assessment of them couldn’t be more accurate.

The Froslings were not naturally aggressive. Even after everything that had been done to them, revenge was not their instinctive response. Their race had always leaned toward peace and harmony, which was precisely why they had been so vulnerable when their realm was invaded and destroyed.

Their former Empyrean, the first Frosling to become a Devil Merchant, had even exploited that nature, selling them as fake Snow Elven slaves in the Dark Realm before their civilization was ultimately destroyed.

Under normal circumstances, the Froslings were unlikely to hunt down the Snow Elves simply to satisfy a desire for revenge. Even if some of them did seek vengeance, Thalorien doubted they would wage a campaign of cruelty. At worst, they might attempt to wipe out the Snow Elven race or enslave them. For the Froslings, that was already an extreme possibility.

The Frost Elves were different. The Half-Bloods had been created through his experiments. They had suffered because of him. Their hatred wasn’t merely inherited resentment. It had been forged through personal suffering, and unlike the Froslings, they possessed the power and temperament to act upon it.

But even then, Thalorien wasn’t truly desperate. There was one thing Dalia had overlooked, the curse he had implanted directly into the souls of the Half-Bloods was still there. With a single thought, he could kill them. That knowledge gave Thalorien a final measure of control, even now.

If he died, his race might suffer. They might lose everything he had spent millennia building. They might be forced to struggle beneath whatever consequences followed his disappearance. But they would survive. That was enough.

Thalorien could accept his race struggling. What he could not accept was his race flourishing as someone’s slaves.

If he surrendered and accepted Dalia’s offer, the Snow Elves would not simply gain a powerful ally. They would place themselves beneath the control of an unknown, non-native, ancient Ruler-class force whose true intentions Thalorien still could not comprehend.

His elven pride would not allow it. And it wasn’t merely his pride. Any true Snow Elf faced with the same choice would make it. Better to struggle beneath their own will than prosper beneath another’s. Better to preserve the dignity of the Snow Elven race, even through hardship, than build a magnificent future as someone else’s property. That was the line Thalorien could not cross.

Dalia noticed the change in his expression. His desperation had receded, and the threat she had intended to use against him had produced exactly the reaction she wanted.

Thanks to Sansa, she already knew what was going through his head. Thalorien had accepted the possibility that his own life might come to an end. What he hadn’t accepted was surrendering the freedom of his people.

His bottom line had been steadily lowering with time. And with enough time, she knew, even that final line would move.

One of Dalia’s roots lifted Thalorien’s head, forcing their gazes to meet. She smiled as she asked, “I see you’ve accepted your own loss and are prepared to forfeit your life, yet you’re still willing to compromise the freedom of your race. Is this the Snow Elven pride I heard so much about when I first learned of your people? Remarkable…”

Dalia paused, and Thalorien felt his skin crawl. He stared at her warily, wondering what she was planning now.