Cloud Thinking

The scene in his memory changed, and Osinotto appeared at the nobles' dinner party in gorgeous clothes.

The silk dress had dark patterns in the candlelight, and irises embroidered in silver thread were faintly visible on his cuffs.

The dean stood half a step behind him like a giant dragon guarding a treasure, and was using exaggerated gestures to introduce this "favorite student" to the surrounding nobles dressed in jewels.

"Allow me to introduce you all," the dean's voice was particularly clear amid the clinking of glasses. "This is the taxidermy artist who has recently become quite popular in the capital, my grandson-in-law—Mr. Osinotto."

He deliberately emphasized the word "grandson-in-law", causing several ladies to laugh while covering their fans.

Helia stood beside the champagne tower, the bubbles in the crystal glass constantly rising and bursting, just like her chaotic thoughts at the moment.

She really couldn't understand why the dean favored and valued Osinotto so much.

Not only did he personally teach him aristocratic etiquette and introduce him to dignitaries from all sides, he even opened a dedicated laboratory for him in the research institute.

She also betrothed her most beloved granddaughter to him.

Even his own son had never received such good treatment.

However, Osinotto lived up to the kindness, and his strange and exquisite specimens soon became a sensation in high society.

Young noblemen vied with each other to invite him to their salons, and ladies were proud to collect his works.

The two-headed snakes soaked in amber liquid and the griffin specimens inlaid with gemstone eyes became the most popular topics of conversation among the nobles after dinner.

"It's incredible!" exclaimed a lady wearing a pearl necklace. "It's like a fairy tale brought to earth."

"I heard his latest specimen of a nightingale," another gentleman said in a low voice, "can sing incessantly."

These pampered nobles have long been tired of ordinary treasures.

The more bizarre the object, the more it stimulates their numb nerves.

Owning these rare treasures seems to prove one's extraordinary taste and unfathomable financial resources.

The "man-made parrot" gifted by the dean stopped breathing on the morning of the third day. When Osinotto used a silver scalpel to cut open its sutured chest, he found strange blue lines wrapped around its vocal cords—a sign of magic.

This discovery struck him like lightning, and from then on his laboratory began to be filled with various magic books and magic props.

Surprisingly, he showed an amazing talent in the field of magic. Those obscure spells were as docile as children's building blocks in his hands.

He walked fast and far on the road of the Gold of Creation, and soon reached a realm that many magicians could not reach even after ten years of hard practice.

God always favors geniuses, and spares no effort to give them the best, drawing a gap between them and mediocre people, and turning their efforts into a piece of waste paper to fool people.

As his research progressed, he turned his focus to the combination of magic and animals. The selection of specimens was no longer limited to ordinary animals, but he turned his attention to magical beasts.

Even...the three ancient tribes.

It’s a pity that the dragons and giants live in seclusion and are huge in size, so they are not easily subdued by humans.

He had only captured one elf, a baby elf at that. He guessed that it had just come out to explore the world, and because of its lack of strength and knowledge, it was deceived and captured.

The elf's long silver hair looked like flowing mercury in the moonlight, and her mint green eyes were truly magnificent, one of the most perfect works of the Creator.

Because the elves have long lifespans, those in power have always been committed to seeking the secret of longevity, so his research project on elves quickly gained the support of many powerful nobles.

After all, immortality has always been the most extravagant dream of the powerful.

But the results of the experiment were beyond everyone's expectations. The most amazing property of elven blood wasn't its ability to prolong life, but its near-perfect compatibility.

Whether injected into the blood vessels of wolfhounds, griffins or death row prisoners, there is almost no rejection reaction.

What is even more horrifying is that the magical beasts that have been injected with a large amount of elven blood will have a human-like look in their eyes, as if a trace of humanity has emerged.

Seeing this, Helia's brows tightened unconsciously, and the hands hanging at her sides unconsciously clenched into fists.

She suddenly remembered the tragic Warcraft war - weren't those Warcraft that had awakened their self-awareness the source of this disaster?

She had always taken it for granted that this was the result of natural evolution. Just as humans evolved step by step from apes, Warcraft would also gradually develop more advanced forms in order to survive as the environment changed.

This explanation sounds so reasonable and common sense.

But at this moment, a terrible question suddenly exploded in her mind: Why does this evolution only happen to a very small number of monsters?

If evolution is really caused by the environment, why do most of the monsters living in the same Sad Forest still maintain their primitive wildness?

Her nails dug into her palms unconsciously.

What's even more strange is that even if not all of them evolved, there should be at least a few of the awakened monsters that are of the same species, right?

But in fact, the awakened monsters are of various types and have nothing to do with each other.

It's almost like...

"Just like a random draw," she muttered to herself, feeling an inexplicable chill creep up her spine.

Is it really just luck that determines who gets wisdom? This idea is too absurd.

As an outsider, she had never thought deeply about these issues.

But now, looking at Osinoto's experimental records, a terrifying conjecture gradually formed in her mind - do those awakened monsters have more or less elven blood flowing in their bodies?

But it may not be artificial modification... Maybe those monsters just accidentally bit the elves and sucked a small amount of blood, which caused such changes.

However, elves have always been powerful, possessing magic from birth. Coupled with their long lifespans, they are always formidable magicians. It's unlikely that they couldn't even defeat a demon beast...

"What are you thinking about?" Watersise suddenly held her hand, and his rough fingertips gently stroked the red marks on her palm caused by his nails.

The temperature of his palms was always high, ironing her skin like a piece of warm jade.

Helia let him hold her hand, her brow still furrowed. "I don't understand why elven blood would cause a Warcraft to undergo human-like changes."

Watersise chuckled and patiently explained, "The fact that the three ancient tribes have survived to this day without being assimilated speaks to the uniqueness of their bloodlines."

"Just like when you took in too much of my blood and power, dragon characteristics appeared on your body, didn't you?"

"When a demon beast absorbs elven blood, it naturally exhibits elven characteristics." His fingertips gently traced the lines on her palm. "It's just that the elves are the closest to humans among the three races, so the transformation is more likely to be human-like."

"I see." This explanation made Helia suddenly understand.

She spread out her palms, and in a trance she seemed to see her fingers turning into sharp dragon claws, and fine black scales appeared on her skin.

The memories were so vivid—the tiny horns sprouting from the top of his head, the faint outline of bony wings behind him, and the strange vision when his pupils turned vertical.

She and Watersiser shared the same body; in a sense, their blood had already mingled.

So even though she is a pure human, she will show the characteristics of a dragon at certain moments.

This realization made her shudder involuntarily.

Osinotto had not made specimens for a long time, as he was completely immersed in his study of elves. Many nobles came to the dean to ask for his work, so the dean decided to go to the laboratory to see his favorite disciple in person.

In the laboratory, the dean saw that Osinoto and the elf were getting along as closely as father and daughter, and a hint of displeasure flashed in his eyes.

"I've been hoping you'll create another stunning work," the dean said. "His Majesty's birthday is approaching, and I'd like to introduce you to him."

His eyes fell on the elf who was hiding behind Osinoto but couldn't help but look at him curiously.

"The elves' long silver hair and jewel-like eyes are truly breathtakingly beautiful," the dean said in a voice that was alluring. "If I could present such a treasure to His Majesty, I'm sure he would be delighted."

Osinotto's face turned pale instantly.

He had lost his beloved daughter, and during his day-to-day research, this young elf became his emotional sustenance. He projected all his thoughts about his daughter onto this elf, and the lonely elf also regarded Osinoto as his only support.

Osinoto took good care of her. Her once thin frame had become plump and lovely. Although one of her arms still bore many needle marks, it was clear that the frequency of blood draws had decreased—the wounds had healed, leaving only faint scars.

Osinotto developed feelings for his experimental subject and could no longer continue his research without hurting her, so the experiment effectively failed.

Now the dean actually asked him to make a specimen of the elf and present it to the king. He would never agree to it no matter what.

Osinoto suppressed his panic and responded calmly, "The elves' research has not yet yielded final results. The samples are already scarce and precious, so we can't just dispose of them casually."

He cleverly avoided the dean's gaze and said, "As for your majesty's birthday gift, I already have a better idea. You don't need to worry about it."

The dean's smile froze instantly. His always amiable face was now terribly gloomy, and his eyes were as sharp as knives, piercing straight at Osinotto.

The temperature in the laboratory seemed to drop several degrees suddenly.

"Well then," the dean's voice suddenly changed, a tone of deliberate lightness tinged with coldness, "regarding the wedding date, I think it's best to set it as soon as possible. We can't have it clash with His Majesty's birthday."

His eyes wandered around the laboratory, finally settling on the hand-carved wooden horse in the corner, and a strange curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"My precious granddaughter keeps asking me when she can marry you." The dean feigned helplessness and shook his head. "My old bones can't stand her tormenting me like that. So, you'd better make a decision as soon as possible."

Osinotto was cultivated by the abbot. Betrothing his granddaughter to him was simply to strengthen this bond of interest and tie this talented young man to his chariot forever.

The dean knew that Osinotto valued family ties and longed for a family, so this marriage should have been a sure thing.

But who would have thought that a little elf would show up halfway and disrupt the whole plan.

"How can we rush into such a big decision like marriage?" Osinotto said with a proper smile on his face. "For a daughter of a wealthy family to marry is such a major event in life that it must be carefully planned and absolutely not be sloppy."

He is procrastinating.

The dean had already discussed this marriage with Osinotto. At the time, Osinotto had neither explicitly agreed nor flatly refused. Furthermore, judging by the few times he had spent time with his granddaughter, he didn't seem to object to the match.

But whenever the dean wanted to push forward the marriage, Osinotto always found various excuses to shirk his responsibility.

The dean did not force him because he was busy with his research.

But now it seems that Osinotto has no intention of getting married at all.

The air in the laboratory seemed to freeze. The two men stared at each other in silence, and invisible pressure continued to accumulate in the small space.

This silent contest lasted for a long time, and the tense atmosphere was ready to explode, like a warehouse full of gunpowder, which could cause a violent explosion with just a spark.

Finally, the dean was the first to look away.

But this does not mean giving up. It's just that he is well aware of the art of advance and retreat and chooses to retreat temporarily.

He slowly squatted down, looking past Osinoto at the elf hiding behind him. A kind smile, typical of an elder, appeared on his face, and he waved gently, "Hello, little one."

Osinoto's muscles tensed instantly, and he calmly placed his body completely in front of the elf, like an impenetrable wall.

The dean looked up at Osinotto and said calmly, as if discussing the weather: "I think we may need to have a frank conversation."

He turned his gaze back to the elf, "But it's better not to let children hear some of these things, don't you think?"

Osinoto narrowed his eyes, weighed the pros and cons silently for a moment, and finally patted the elf's back gently, signaling her to leave for the time being.

The elf walked very reluctantly, looking back every few steps, her eyes full of worry - she was not reluctant to leave, but was afraid that the seemingly kind dean would do something bad to Osinotto.

"Our great taxidermy artist," the dean's voice had returned to its usual affability. "It's been so long since you've published any new works. Your admirers are practically tearing down my door."

Osinotto's brows were twisted into a knot. He rubbed his swollen temples and said with fatigue in his tone: "I have no inspiration."

Since mastering magic, he has indeed gained unprecedented power, able to create works that surpass his previous ones.

But it was this power that made him dare not use it easily again.

Because he found that he was losing the most basic respect for life - now he could easily take a life just by moving his fingers and chanting a spell.

His original intention in pursuing power was to protect and change, not to kill and conquer.

When one day he found that he felt no emotion after killing an experimental animal, he decisively stopped all specimen making.

He was afraid that he would become like the Viscount, like the Dean, and eventually become the kind of person he hated the most.