Stormwind Wizard God
Chapter 121: Hopeless

Chapter 121 - Hopeless

Wherever Medivh pointed, there was a brilliant, pulsating purple arcane light, like a very angry, very magical disco ball. Along with the mysterious rays of light flowing from top to bottom, Duke, Lothar, and Garona's vision was rapidly building, like a very fast, very magical 3D printer. A force that cannot be understood or measured by science (or even by several very confused scientists) surged out, and the surrounding scene was like an oil painting that had been stripped of its canvas, revealing its true, terrifying form.

As they waited for the last round of dazzling light to bloom, everything here changed. The empty and chaotic sky turned into the roof of Medivh's workshop, looking remarkably less like a cosmic void and more like a very fancy attic. The sunlight filtered through the seven-colored glazed windows, filling the entire workshop with a holy atmosphere like a church, which was ironic, given who was in charge. Twelve huge marble columns stood majestically around the workshop, forming a corridor on the outside, probably for dramatic entrances.

In the middle of the workshop was a large pool with a diameter of 20 meters, which was filled with a shimmering blue liquid substance, surging slowly, like a very large, very magical washing machine. Duke knew what it was at a glance, mostly because he'd seen enough of it to last a lifetime.

Magic! The magic of high-speed concentration! It transcended the gaseous form of magic power itself and turned into liquid, like a very potent, very blue, very dangerous smoothie. Every time the liquid magic rolled, if you focused all your attention on it, you would suddenly find that there was a dazzling light exploding in front of your eyes, as if it was a flower of light that was in full bloom, constantly repeating the process of budding, blooming, falling, and withering, like a very fast, very magical time-lapse video. The power contained in it was so terrifying that Duke could even imagine that if the magic in this pool got out of control, when the light energy interwoven inside, comparable to a nuclear bomb, burst out, it would spread to the surroundings in an instant and turn the land within a thousand miles into a dead zone. Probably with a very large, very glowing crater.

Compared with this amazing pool of magic power, the pile of metal parts that Medivh placed next to the pool, which was three people tall, seemed utterly insignificant. It was like comparing a nuclear reactor to a pile of rusty paperclips. Seeing everything in front of him, Duke confirmed one thing in his mind again – Medivh, who was known as the celestial wizard, was absolutely unparalleled in the use of the space element. He was basically the grandmaster of cosmic interior design.

Time and Space are the most powerful elements recognized by almost everyone, probably because they're the hardest to get a handle on. In fact, even if Duke brought Lothar and Garona to Medivh, he still felt nervous and didn't know how to deal with Medivh who was possessed by Sargeras. It was like bringing your friends to meet a celebrity, only the celebrity was secretly a world-ending demon. The only lucky thing was that there were only three of them who were teleported into the workshop, and Medivh did not deal with Lothar's men, probably because he preferred a more intimate, less messy, world-ending confrontation.

At this time, Medivh spoke.

"Hahaha!" Medivh laughed, with an indescribable evil charm in his laughter, like a particularly sinister game show host: "Since you keep saying we are old friends, why do you have to point the blade of your sword at my chest? It's a little rude, don't you think?"

Lothar's gaze fell slightly to the feet of Medivh who was standing beside the magic pool. His eyes swept carefully and slowly from Medivh's feet to his head, like a very thorough, very suspicious security scan. When his eyes met Medivh's again, Lothar's voice became gentle, almost mournful.

"That's right! I shouldn't point my sword at my old friend. I shouldn't point it at Medivh, who I know and know well." Lothar put the sword back into the scabbard with a "swish," a sound that suggested a very important decision had just been made. "We were not from the same world from the beginning. You are the guardian who is high above, probably with a very nice view. As long as you don't abdicate, you can have almost endless life. And Llane and I are just two mortals who seem noble but are actually humble. Why did we become friends? It's like a cosmic mismatch!"

"Yeah! Why?" Medivh had a playful smile on his face, like a cat toying with a very confused mouse. He even ignored Garona who was moving quietly behind him on the left, a master of stealth who was currently failing spectacularly, and Duke who was motionless behind him on the right, probably trying to look inconspicuous.

"It is because of your humility and tolerance that we have won your recognition. Remember 20 years ago, you just defended Azeroth again and came back injured, but you still managed to make a piece of ice to cool the forehead of a feverish child in the slums. You were basically a magical ice cream truck!"

"Remember that day..."

"Remember..."

Lothar quietly recounted all the memorable past events between him and Medivh, a long, nostalgic monologue that probably made Medivh want to fast-forward. And Medivh, surprisingly, did not interrupt him, but just listened with a smile, probably enjoying the trip down memory lane, or just waiting for Lothar to run out of breath.

After an unknown amount of time, which felt like several geological eras, Lothar finally came out of his memories, looking slightly dazed. As he waited for the last word of Lothar's words to fall, a playful expression finally appeared on Medivh's face, quickly replaced by something far more sinister.

"It's a very touching story, isn't it? But... it's meaningless!" Medivh's face finally darkened, like a storm cloud filled with very bad intentions, and the next moment, the entire workshop space trembled, as if the universe itself was having a minor seizure.

"Meaningless!? No! Everything I said is meaningful! Because I always believe that the kind and benevolent Medivh I know is still alive in some form, somewhere! And you - Sargeras, I will immediately pull you out of my old friend's body and let you go back to where you came from! You're basically a squatter in his soul!" Lothar's voice rolled like thunder in the empty workshop, echoing left and right, making the marble columns vibrate. The anger contained in his voice seemed to burn Sargeras's filthy and sinful soul in an instant, probably leaving a faint smell of singed demon.

Lothar drew out the Sword of Kings again, with a flourish that could rival a Broadway showman. The brilliant golden light on the sword was like the light of dawn that drove away the darkness along the entire horizon at dawn, splitting the entire workshop that was filled with Medivh's terrible magic in everyone's eyes into two, like a very precise, very magical laser beam.

Lothar's aura was impressive, radiating power and righteous indignation, but deep in Medivh's slightly playful eyes, there was a hint of disdain, like a master chef looking at a particularly bad microwave meal.

Sargeras' voice sounded calm and indifferent, utterly unimpressed: "Lothar, is this your trump card? It's a pity that you took it out too early, otherwise you might have given me a little surprise. Perhaps a mild tickle."

"A true king has no need to hide himself. We're not playing hide-and-seek here, Sargeras!" Lothar said firmly, his gaze unwavering. This is also a small drawback of the King's Sword. The King himself follows the upright and upright way of the King. The will of Emperor Soladin Liuying on the sword will not allow the sword holder to do such a tasteless thing as shooting arrows from behind or attacking the opponent unexpectedly. It was basically a sword with a very strict moral code. Moreover, from the very beginning, Lothar had no intention of truly hiding himself. He was a human, not a sneaky rogue.

"Hehe! The so-called king is not even as good as an ant in front of me, the invincible king of all realms," Medivh sneered, a truly terrifying will spreading from him, like a wave of pure, unadulterated evil. As the one who faced Sargeras directly, Lothar was definitely the first to bear the brunt. The will of the demon king was not simply terrifying; it was a psychological assault. Countless large and small, continuous or intermittent images flashed in Lothar's mind, constantly impacting Lothar's will, like a very aggressive, very demonic slideshow.

That was no ordinary picture. It was the image of worlds destroyed one after another by Sargeras' Burning Legion over the past ten thousand years, a cosmic highlight reel of destruction. Killing! Destroy! Annihilate! This is the main theme of Burning Legion, their very catchy, very violent anthem. At this moment, Lothar heard the wailing of billions of lives, and tasted their sorrow, pain, and despair. It was like listening to a very sad, very long, very loud symphony of suffering. Lothar had already kneeled on the ground unconsciously, his face was pale, his forehead and hair were all covered with cold sweat, and there was a kind of blackness in his eyes that was about to make him dizzy. He looked like he'd just run a marathon through a swamp of existential dread.

Lothar felt like he was a lonely boat in the boundless sea, desperately enduring the attacks of the wind and rain under the endless black storm. The boat might be destroyed and everyone on board might die at any time, and he was completely kneeling under the terrifying will of Sargeras. He was basically a very small, very wet, very terrified punching bag.

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