As space fluctuated violently, a pitch-black portal materialized out of thin air.
The Witch King and Mo stepped through one after another.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is this the Originium Arts of our great Witch King? Impressive.”
After emerging from the portal, Mo carefully examined the Witch King’s Originium Arts, clicking his tongue in amazement.
The Witch King could not be bothered with Mo’s ignorant display and simply continued walking forward.
Seeing this, Mo swayed as he followed behind, glancing at the ruins around them.
He wondered if they had somehow stumbled into a battlefield.
The moment he realized they were on a battlefield, the urge he had been deliberately suppressing surged once again, violently agitating his mind.
The Witch King watched with interest as Mo’s eyes turned bloodshot and his body began to tremble, his breathing growing heavier and heavier.
Just as Mo was about to lose control, the Witch King injected a melody directly into his mind, instantly calming him.
The Witch King’s sorcery was super effective!
The only problem was that it seemed to be a little too effective.
Mo became as rigid as a block of wood, completely unresponsive to the outside world.
Clearly, something had gone wrong.
The Witch King repeatedly adjusted the melody within Mo’s mind, gradually forming a barrier that isolated him from the stimulation of the battlefield and restored his sanity.
“Am I… better?”
After recovering from his madness, Mo blinked in disbelief.
Was it really that simple?
“Don’t be happy too soon. This is only a temporary measure. It treats the symptoms but not the root cause, and it cannot solve your problem.”
The Witch King did not hesitate to pour cold water over Mo’s excitement.
There were plenty of methods that could treat the symptoms.
Solving the problem at its root was the truly difficult part.
“Fine. So, where are we now? And what are we doing?”
Temporary was fine.
At least it was better than being completely helpless.
Besides, Mo had already signed a contract of servitude.
He might as well go with the flow.
“This is the battlefield where the fighting between Leithanien and Gaul is most intense. Do you see that? That is the Gaul Army over there.”
Following the direction the Witch King pointed, Mo indeed saw a massive army and a fleet of warships continuously advancing.
This was the largest fleet of warships on the Terra continent.
Like an unstoppable torrent of steel, it swept across the battlefield.
The Leithanien Army and its towers crumbled wherever it passed.
The Leithanien defensive lines were virtually nonexistent before the might of the Gaul warships.
Under the offensive led by Corsica I, Leithanien’s resistance appeared incredibly fragile.
It seemed that the fall of Leithanien was inevitable.
If not for the Witch King.
“Rejoice, for you shall witness the most magnificent movement ever performed upon this land. The will of Leithanien shall cleanse the souls of all invaders, and this grand melody shall now begin!”
The Witch King raised the baton in his hand.
Under his performance, countless musical notes drew elegant arcs through the air.
The tip of the baton seemed almost like an elf capable of capturing musical notes.
Every movement caused the melody to leap and spin through the air, weaving one magnificent musical tableau after another.
As the baton slowly rose, Mo’s breathing seemed to stop along with it.
It was as though time itself had frozen.
Then—
The baton suddenly fell.
The notes poured forth like a waterfall, shaking the very soul.
Golden radiance shimmered across the sky, resembling a shooting star streaking through the darkness and leaving a brilliant trail in its wake.
One after another, the countless towers of Leithanien resonated with the Witch King’s movements, as though they were all part of a single grand composition.
Together, they performed the storm that was about to descend upon the battlefield.
The moment the Witch King’s baton fell, his Originium Arts erupted like a catastrophe.
A golden melody descended from the heavens, accompanied by lightning and raging sandstorms.
Mighty winds howled, torrential rain poured down, and thunder shook the earth, cleansing everything across the battlefield.
The torrent of steel was torn apart like paper before the Witch King’s Originium Arts.
The warships and army that Gaul took such pride in were shattered beneath the overwhelming force of the symphony.
The earth split open into bottomless ravines.
Smoke and flames soared into the heavens, while countless cries were drowned beneath the magnificent melody.
Mo personally witnessed the most powerful Caster in Terra’s history unleash the will of Leithanien without restraint.
The air was filled with a deep, resonant hum.
The earth itself seemed to tremble.
That overwhelming power left Mo deeply shaken.
He had said he wanted to witness the Witch King’s power with his own eyes.
But he had never said he wanted to experience it firsthand from such close range!
The fluctuations produced by the Witch King’s casting nearly blew him away.
That surging, overwhelming power continuously battered both his mind and body.
Was this really something a human could do?
I will never be cheeky again.
Praise the Witch King.
Thank you, Witch King, for sparing my pathetic life.
Seeing Mo cowering to the side and trembling, the Witch King began giving him orders with an expressionless face.
“You. Stand over there, cooperate with me, and do not move.”
Mo obediently nodded and carefully shuffled to the designated spot.
“Can you at least tell me what you are planning to do?”
The Witch King continued waving his baton, releasing waves of Originium Arts while calmly explaining his plan.
“Blocking is inferior to channeling. Simple isolation cannot solve the problem. Accumulated emotions will eventually break through the barrier.”
“My plan is for you to conquer this emotion and transform it into your own power.”
“This will be a rather interesting experiment.”
As he finished speaking, an eerie smile appeared on the Witch King’s face.
“So, how exactly do you plan to do that?”
“How long has it been since you changed your armor?”
“I don’t know. To be precise, I’ve never changed it. Why?”
“You will soon have a brand-new set of armor.”
“I will strip the concept of war from this battlefield and infuse it into your armor. I will then reforge the armor into a container capable of bearing that concept and transform your madness into energy for you to control.”
The Witch King was clearly very satisfied with his plan.
Once it succeeded, it would not only solve Mo’s problem with maintaining his sanity but also create an unparalleled weapon of war.
It was a fascinating challenge.
The Witch King was satisfied.
Mo, however, was skeptical about whether such a plan was even possible.
“Is something conceptual like that really possible?”
“Of course. Who do you think I am?”
The Witch King glanced at him.
“It is merely going to make you suffer a little. I believe you will agree, won’t you?”
The Witch King was extremely confident.
Mo looked at the magic orb he had casually conjured, then at the catastrophe still raging in the distance.
After a moment of silence, Mo decided to follow his instincts.
Surrender.
Fine, I give in, okay?
I’m crying without tears here, brother.
Over the following year, the Witch King became extremely diligent.
He even handed his research on the Wasteland over to Fremont and devoted himself entirely to taking Mo from one battlefield to another.
Because of the Witch King’s frequent interventions, the pressure on the Leithanien front line decreased dramatically.
The Gaul Army had no choice but to avoid his edge, change its strategy, and slow down its advance into Leithanien.
Everyone was happy.
It was a win-win situation.
Leithanien gained a chance to breathe, while the Witch King obtained an abundance of research material.
Everyone except Mo.
Mo gained a body covered in wounds.
Since this was research, trial and error were inevitable.
The Witch King’s research was no exception.
However, relying on the fact that Mo was exceptionally sturdy and durable, the Witch King conducted his experiments directly on him.
As a result, Mo spent the entire period living in misery and enduring all kinds of torture.
Throughout that year, Mo remained actively involved in the Witch King’s academic research projects, making outstanding contributions to the Witch King’s research results.
In the future, Mo could even proudly brag to others that he had once been the Witch King’s research partner.
What?
You want to know what Mo was responsible for?
Oh, of course.
He was responsible for being researched.
This was a friendship that had literally cost him his life.
He had nearly GG’d more than once, you know.