Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 43 Arthas Cannot Die

Harry was woken up at dawn. This was his second time boarding the Alexander Langton, but he was clearly not as relaxed as he was the last time.

The butcher lurked in the shadows, his knife already sharpened. The lambs could only bleat uneasily and pace restlessly, but none of them could escape their fate of being slaughtered.

To solve a murder case, the most important thing is to find the killer's motive. Nasus certainly had enough reason to do so. When Harry returned to his familiar cabin, his thoughts unconsciously drifted to the people on the ship.

He first ruled out Miss Catherine and the Duke of Langton; Harry couldn't think of any reason why they would want to kill him. When he thought of the prince, Harry's heart sank, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

He was merciless; bloodlust seemed to be his nature. He could easily attack the Duke of Langton, who had saved him, and he simply labeled the cardinal who died to save him as foolish.

Rumor has it that he was like a hunter, rushing towards his former classmates from the Knight Academy one by one, which makes sense given that he was hunted down after surviving in the port.

Moreover, his strength was so great that it wouldn't have been difficult for him to easily pierce through his own wooden silk mage robe from behind.

What if the caravan bandits and the assassins who killed him in the forest weren't the same group?

Harry grew increasingly frightened, increasingly convinced that the person behind him in the forest was none other than the elf prince Arthas!

He called out Xiao Bei's name anxiously, and soon, a figure in a white robe appeared in his cabin. He then shared his guess, his words rapid with urgency:

"Little Bei, I'm thinking the person in the forest who wants to kill me... could very well be that elf prince, Arthas."

He paused, organizing his thoughts to make them clearer: "You see, he's cruel by nature. The Duke saved him, yet he turned around and attacked her. Archbishop Lawrence died for him, and he showed no gratitude whatsoever. To him, killing is like a game. For such a person to specifically hunt down the port's survivors and go to the forest to silence them is entirely in line with his style. And..."

Harry's fingers unconsciously tightened around his robe sleeves. "He has the ability. My mage robes aren't weak in defense, so to be able to pierce through from behind so easily is definitely not something an ordinary assassin could do."

Xiao Bei listened quietly, her eyelids twitching slightly as if she were nodding. "Prince Arthas is indeed very likely the one who killed you," her voice remained gentle. "So, what do you plan to do?"

Harry took a breath, a resolute glint in his eyes, and took a step closer, his voice low: "Is it possible... that something might happen to him on the ship? Or, can we stop the cardinal from rescuing him? If the cardinal doesn't rescue him, he might not even survive to disembark."

"That's definitely not going to work, Harry," Beckham replied decisively, without the slightest hesitation.

She looked up, her expression grave. "Arthas absolutely cannot die on the ship. His death will directly lead to a massive catastrophe that will affect the entire continent."

Harry froze. "A catastrophe?" This wasn't the first time he'd heard that word.

The last time Arthas was at the port, he said something similar when he faced the Archbishop's sacrifice.

Archbishop Lawrence, that esteemed cardinal, was willing to pay the ultimate price, and it was probably not just for the simple purpose of saving an elf prince...

"Why would his death cause such a catastrophe?" Harry asked, his voice filled with obvious confusion.

Instead of answering directly, Beckham asked, "Harry, how much do you know about the elves?"

Harry thought for a moment and then recited the historical knowledge he had learned at the Knights Academy: "More than seventy years ago, the Elven race launched a war from the north of the Empire. They won, and we ceded five provinces."

"The outcome of a war is often determined by the strongest combat power." Xiao Bei's voice was calm, as if he were stating a simple truth. "Like two armies fighting, if both commanders are level nine warriors and their strength is similar, then the outcome depends on troop strength, terrain, and tactics. But if one side's commander is level nine and the other side is only level six—then, the outcome is already determined before the war even begins. That was the case in the war seventy years ago."

Harry immediately understood: "The strongest elf...is much stronger than the strongest human among us?"

"Yes," Xiao Bei nodded, his tone flat, simply stating the facts, "At that time, the strongest member of the royal family—the Royal Guardian—and the leader of the church who was at odds with the royal family—the Pope of the Church of Light—joined forces to fight against the strongest Elf King of the Elf race at the border."

She paused, letting the information settle, "Both of them were among the most powerful on the continent. The Royal Guardian's martial arts were unfathomable, and the Pope's strength was also extraordinary. But even when the two joined forces, they ultimately lost to the Elf King. So it was already agreed at that time that the Empire would cede five provinces to the Elf race. The defeat in the war seventy years ago was not because the soldiers on the front lines were not brave enough, nor because of tactical errors, but because the outcome was already predetermined before the war even officially began."

"Are they... all Saint-level beings?" Harry's voice was filled with disbelief.

"Yes, all three of them are Saint-level." Xiao Bei's answer was very certain.

Harry gasped. Such a huge gap above the Saint rank? The two most powerful beings in the human world, even working together, couldn't defeat one?

Harry frowned even more deeply: "The gap between Saint-level beings can be this vast? Two human Saint-level powerhouses couldn't defeat the Elf King?"

Little Beckham seemed to have anticipated his confusion and explained calmly, "Harry, you have to understand, 'Saint Rank' is just a general term, like saying 'adult.' A young warrior who has just graduated from the academy is an 'adult,' and a veteran who has fought on the battlefield for decades and whose skills and strength have reached perfection is also an 'adult.' There can be a world of difference between them."

She paused, then explained in a more concrete way: "You can understand it this way: suppose strength is like lifting a heavy object. An ordinary strong man can lift 200 jin (100 kg), which is already 'very strong.' But there are people who, through special training and talent, can lift 2,000 jin (1,000 kg) or even 20,000 jin (10,000 kg). To outsiders, they are all 'incredibly strong,' but their actual levels are completely different. Sometimes, the difference between Saint-level beings is just like the gap between this kind of 'strong man' and the 'monster who can lift 10,000 jin.' The Elf King is a monster who can lift 10,000 jin. When there is a qualitative difference in the level of strength, quantity sometimes cannot make up for it."

Harry fell silent, a heavy weight settling in his heart at this stark explanation. He realized that even at the pinnacle of power lay such a profound and terrifying chasm.

Just how terrifying is the Elf King's power? Even two Saint-level experts working together couldn't defeat him!

"But this..." He shook off the shock about the power levels and returned to his original question, "What does this have to do with Arthas not being able to die?"

"Because this isn't the first time such a war has happened." Xiao Bei looked at him, her eyes calm beneath her lively eyebrows. "In the more than two hundred years since the founding of the Empire, there have been three large-scale, all-out invasions by the Elves. The most recent one was the one you know about seventy years ago. And the previous two times... the royal family used all their power to cover up the news. The ordinary people and history books will never know that the Empire bled dry in the North twice and was forced to pay a considerable price both times."

Harry felt a dryness in his throat.

Three times? All failed?

The weight of this truth made him feel breathless.

Xiao Bei continued, "A race's way of doing things is rooted in its life form. We humans reach adulthood at twenty, and the period from twenty to thirty is the golden decade for physical and strength growth, after which we begin a long period of maintenance and slow decline. But elves... are completely different."

She adjusted her tone slightly to make her explanation clearer: "An elf needs to grow to forty years old before his body and mind are roughly equivalent to a twenty-year-old human. And from forty to one hundred years old, that full sixty years is the long period during which their life essence is concentrated and their power steadily climbs to its peak. Their sense of time is different from ours, and their peak period is much longer."

Harry nodded silently. This concrete comparison gave him a more realistic understanding of elves, a species known for its longevity. In other words, elves grow slower, but their peak power lasts for a longer period than that of humans.

"Seventy years is roughly the time it takes for each Elf King to rise and fall." Seeing Harry's increasingly understanding expression, Xiao Bei continued, "Arthas can't die. The key lies in the method of succession to the Elf King's throne. Each Elf King must be the absolute strongest among the elves of their generation. Do you know how this 'strongest' is determined?"

"Through a duel?" Harry tried to guess.

"You're partly right. Every Elf King is invariably the strongest in their entire race at that time. This 'strongest' isn't determined by bloodline or by election, but by the selection of the most ancient laws." A faint, emotionless smile appeared on Xiao Bei's lips. "It's a duel, but the kind of life-or-death duel where the winner is decided only when one side dies."

The descendants of the Elf King are certainly not weak. If they all survive, wouldn't the Elf race become even stronger? Is this life-or-death method adopted to prevent the Elf race from splitting apart?

Harry knew that the noble inheritance law strictly stipulated that other noble descendants who did not qualify for inheritance could not obtain titles and lands, but could only receive a small portion of the wealth.

The purpose of this was to ensure that the deceased's property, or the main part of it, especially large estates, manors, and mansions, remained intact and undivided. This was to prevent the entire ancient lineage from declining in political and social standing due to the dispersal of property.

Among the nobility of the empire, titles and official positions, land and mansions, minerals and industries were primarily passed down to the heirs who defeated the duelists. This maintained the indivisibility of the family estate, including land, mansions, mines, forests, and other immovable properties, ensuring the stability of the family's political and social status based on these properties.

This system was mainly prevalent among the upper nobility, while there were no such strict restrictions on the lesser nobility and the upper middle class.

In families that are not noble or wealthy, the material wealth that can be inherited is very limited, and there are no social honors such as titles or ranks to inherit. Moreover, it is not easy for any family, regardless of age, to maintain a relatively decent life. Therefore, there is no question of inheritance.

Harry didn't know if this method of succession to the Elven King was also intended to prevent the Elven race from falling into division.