After a long while.
Hank, who had thoroughly checked himself but found nothing wrong, turned to look at Herto, whose face was as pale as if he had just recovered from a serious illness.
Unable to understand how Herto had ended up like this, Hank asked with confusion:
"What happened to you just now?"
After all, a single [Knight] could easily handle ten strong men, and a [Grand Knight] could effortlessly take on ten [Knights]. Such individuals were the backbone of any nation, capable of facing a hundred enemies on the battlefield. How could someone like that suddenly appear half-dead for no apparent reason?
Seeing the confusion on Hank's face, Herto took a few deep breaths, his expression showing a hint of hesitation before he spoke: "Since I was a child, I've had a special ability—I can sense whether the creatures around me pose a threat to me. The greater the threat, the faster my heart beats.
Just now, when I saw that person, my heart immediately started racing as if it was about to leap out of my chest. I felt dizzy and couldn't catch my breath, almost passing out. It was the first time I've ever experienced something like that…"
After a moment of thought, he added, "I don't know how strong he is, but he's definitely beyond anything we can handle. There's no comparison at all. Even when I encountered wild wolves as a child, I never felt that level of danger. It was as if he could crush me with a single hand, no matter how much I resisted."
By the end, his tone had become utterly dejected, completely devoid of the resolute demeanor he had shown earlier.
After listening, Hank clenched his teeth and asked, "Do you feel anything unusual in your body now? Do you know what kind of method he used on us?"
"I don't feel anything unusual, but what he used must be one of those mysterious techniques. Those people are always extremely skilled in such bizarre methods, which is why the Church hunts them down day and night."
Herto had interacted with those who called themselves spellcasters quite a bit. In his mind, they were a group of eccentric lunatics who spent their days hiding in dark corners, often spouting nonsense and occasionally acting completely insane.
They looked at everyone as if they were fools, and others generally regarded them as fools too.
Hank stroked his chin, deep in thought.
Although it seemed that not just the two of them, but others who had suffered that strange attack also showed no reaction, Hank couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't that simple. Especially since he clearly remembered Olthagia saying, "I hope you can last a few more days," he was convinced that the gray-black mist was far from benign.
However, considering the Church's hatred for those spellcasters and the fact that this place reeked of evil, he thought he might be able to find a way to call for external help…
Unconcerned with what the prisoners were doing, Olthagia paid little attention to them after releasing the disease. Instead, he monitored their physical conditions through the [Source of Death Plague], continuously making subtle adjustments to the intensity and characteristics of the plague. The incubation period couldn't be too long, the symptoms couldn't be too obvious, and the initial pain couldn't be too severe. He needed to find the right balance.
The little white mice in the cages were the carriers of those experiments in balance. No matter their identities or thoughts, it didn't really matter, as the outcome had been predetermined from the very beginning.
After all, humans who fall into the hands of Demons can hardly expect to emerge unscathed—it's practically a pipe dream.
Although Olthagia wasn't as obsessed with human souls as other Demons, treating them merely as equal stepping stones for growth, the inherent nature of a Demon dictated that he wouldn't let go of any profit within reach.
If it's already at your lips, how could he let it escape?
In this world, after a period of observation, Olthagia, combining the knowledge from his memories and his own firsthand experience, came to understand why Demons, despite having countless targets in the Bottomless Abyss, were still so fervent about invading other planes.
If one were to say that every creature in the Bottomless Abyss is eccentric, there might be some unfairness, but the residents of the Abyss are indeed too "simple-minded." They're either lunatics or deranged killers, with many outstanding elites who dream of destroying the world, not even sparing themselves. Causing trouble for these guys is genuinely difficult, making it hard for everyone to happily indulge in slaughter and plunder.
Other planes, however, are different. Their inhabitants are far less "talented" than those of the Bottomless Abyss, mostly having simpler minds and being physically weak, like bean sprouts. Many factors as common as air in the Abyss can easily pose fatal threats to them, making them excellent targets for harvesting.
Naturally, these places became the soft targets for the Abyssal creatures.
But what if, instead of crushing the soft target, you get crushed yourself?
Is that even a thing in the Bottomless Abyss?
For most of its residents, living is all about killing others or being killed by them!
When he was in the Forest of Wailing, Olthagia had tried setting the forest ablaze, but the plants in the Abyss, to some extent, had their own tricks, making it impossible to start a wildfire. In this world, however, it was entirely different!
There was no difficulty in taking action!
Ordinary plants couldn't stop his Blood Flame from spreading and expanding its range.
Even stones and ordinary soil were no match for the Blood Flame.
If it weren't for the fear of the world's consciousness forcibly ejecting him, Olthagia was confident he could have burned the entire Maddon Duchy to ashes.
So he chose a gentler approach, one that wouldn't attract too much attention or provoke a full-scale assault from all sides.
After some consideration, plagues and viruses became his intended targets!
In any world, disease is a normal occurrence, yet it possesses significant destructive power, lethality, and contagiousness. As long as the spread and lethality of the disease could be controlled, it would become one of the best weapons of mass destruction.
After much deliberation, Olthagia used the evolution system to develop the special talent known as the Source of Death Plague. In his mind, this would be his primary tool for harvesting "crops" in the future. The Blood Flame, with its obvious targets and characteristics, was more suited for direct confrontation, while spells would diversify his methods, allowing him to stir up trouble in any situation.
Hank and the others were his first batch of test subjects. He needed to record the actual effects of the plague through their real-time reactions and make immediate adjustments to its characteristics and intensity, ultimately reaching a balance.
The disease couldn't onset too quickly, leaving no chance for transmission, nor could it onset too late, rendering it ineffective when it was already too late. The initial intensity of the symptoms also couldn't be too high; it was best if the subjects remained active and lively in the early stages...
The detailed data required for these factors had to be gradually experimented with by Olthagia to achieve the ideal results.
Moreover, the physical conditions of each race were different, so the same plague needed corresponding adjustments to be effective. All sorts of complicated situations had to be clearly defined.
It truly gave Olthagia the feeling of conducting scientific research, which made him slightly uncomfortable.
Fortunately, he had the [Overclocked Brain], otherwise, he definitely wouldn't be able to handle these things...
Conducting research either requires a team or advanced communication to exchange ideas with others. It's indeed too difficult to climb the virus technology tree alone.
Fortunately, he had an evolution system, giving him unique advantages in many aspects, otherwise, he would never have considered delving into research.
Walking by the pond in the manor, Olthagia subtly manipulated the muscles throughout his body, using the training methods of both the Monk and Martial Artist professions to enhance his control over his body. In his leisure time, he thought, 'I can't waste the downtime while observing the virus. I need to study the spell models and basic energy applications of low-level spells. My methods of energy utilization are still too crude.'
Two more months passed.
At midnight, under the dim moonlight, within the manor.
The faint candlelight illuminated the room.
Olthagia stroked his chin, looking at Jem.Woz kneeling before him, and calmly asked, "You want me to help Maddon Duchy defeat Yar Principality and win this war?"
"Yes, my lord."
Jem lowered his head deeply, speaking with utmost respect.
Nodding, Olthagia asked again, "Then what is the price? What are you prepared to pay?"
Although he didn't want to personally engage in large-scale slaughter for the time being, helping a group of mortals win an ancient war was still effortless for him. There were plenty of ways to achieve the desired effect; it could be done with a mere snap of his fingers.
Without hesitation, Jem immediately stated the conditions he had already planned: "If we win this war, we will exile all the prisoners to a distant, desolate island by the sea. That place will become your sacrificial ground, for you to handle as you please."
After several months of observation, he had roughly figured out some of the habits of the Demon before him. Cruelty and cunning were exactly as recorded, perhaps even exceeding expectations. However, his temper was surprisingly good; even if someone made a rash move in front of him, he wouldn't get angry. Additionally, he had a strange sense of self-discipline, as if every day was meticulously planned.
Olthagia enjoyed slaughter and the plundering of souls.
This was something Jem was absolutely certain of, but he couldn't quite figure out why the other party was behaving so peacefully in the royal capital. He had already prepared himself for the possibility of a major disturbance in the city, yet even the servants he had specifically arranged as sacrificial pawns had not encountered any mishaps. This was completely contrary to the nature of a Demon.
'It seems as though there is some kind of restriction on their actions...' he thought to himself.
As for Jem's proposal, Olthagia neither expressed opposition nor agreement. He simply sipped his tea calmly, as if pondering something.
Listening to the sound of the other's tea-drinking, Jem felt his heart begin to race uncontrollably. He lowered his head and started counting the dust particles.
Time passed bit by bit, and just when Jem thought his proposal was about to be rejected, Olthagia spoke:
"I agree to your request."