Above The Sky
Chapter 359 - 359 331 Why am I the last to know

359: Chapter 331 Why am I the last to know?

(1/3) 359: Chapter 331 Why am I the last to know?

(1/3) “Stomach cancer?”

The next morning, in the Elder’s Office.

Elder Prude, who had planned to talk with Ian about his experiences in the Labyrinth, furrowed his brows tightly, “The Prophet can even see this, has he foreseen my death?”

As an old man, there was some taboo in speaking of one’s own death, but knowing the cause was certainly better than being in the dark.

It wasn’t that Elder Prude didn’t believe Ian; he just hadn’t expected that he himself would already be suffering from such a serious illness.

The Sublimator closed his eyes and activated Source Seed Introspection, sensing for a moment: “Hmm, no anomalies…

My stomach is quite normal, wait, what’s this little polyp here?”

Sublimators generally have a hard time contracting the diseases common among ordinary people.

Not to mention, when they operate Origin Quality, their body temperature can exceed fifty degrees.

Sublimators with Fire Elemental Essence at the First Energy Level can even briefly surpass a hundred degrees and elevate their Essence to even higher temperatures, enough to reduce their enemies to char.

Most bacteria, viruses, and parasites can’t survive such high temperatures, and even special new parasites like the Brain-Eating Parasite quickly lose their vitality when washed over by Origin Quality.

Cancer, in fact, is no exception.

Unless the Sublimator himself exhibits signs of mutation, a healthy Sublimator, even if exposed to a large amount of radiation by chance or has ingested various highly poisonous carcinogens causing problems in the body, would mostly need only two to three years of rest to recover.

But Elder Prude, in the future projected by the Worm Nest, died of stomach cancer, which led Ian to think that it was definitely not just a simple cancer issue.

“This must be connected to some kind of mutation and should not be taken lightly.

With your lifespan, Elder, you should have at least another two or three decades of good living.”

Sitting opposite at the Elder’s desk, Ian spoke calmly.

He was currently writing a report about the Labyrinth to be submitted to Viscount Grant, but continued without pause, “My advice is to consult with Bishop White Mist about the situation.

Master Gossay should also have relevant potions.

I will go and inquire with them later.”

“And it happens to be a good opportunity to ask Bishop White Mist if he would be willing to take on an apprentice.

If that’s not possible, at least asking for some guidance in teaching Elan’s Sublimation Skills would be an option.”

Putting down his pen, Ian glanced over the report in his hands, then nodded in satisfaction and handed it to Elder Prude.

He watched the old man reading the ‘information he was permitted to know’ intently, then slowly said, “After all, Elder, you know that after this assignment is over, I might be unable to stay in Harrison Port for some time.”

“Bishop White Mist?

If you indeed do him a favor, guidance in Sublimation Skills shouldn’t be a problem; they just value talent and compatibility highly.

If it’s not a good fit, the teaching won’t be of much use.”

Elder Prude didn’t think the idea was far-fetched, but he wanted to spare Ian any disappointment, so he warned, “I will visit Bishop White Mist later to thank him for looking after you in the Labyrinth and along the way, and I’ll also bring up my illness and the matter of Elan’s studies.”

“If he agrees, then it won’t be an issue.”

“As for the rest…

that is indeed the case.”

He narrowed his eyes, having finished reading Ian’s report.

Turning to look at the young man, he said in a grave tone, “If you truly become the so-called Labyrinth Master…

If you plan to present yourself to the Viscount and to us with the ‘identity’ of the Labyrinth Master.”

“Then, considering Ailes’ temperament and the current situation, he will definitely not let you stay in Harrison Port.”

“Sending you out as a Knight, with a mission for you to travel abroad for a few years, would be his only choice.”

“Indeed,” Ian nodded slightly, he stood up, ready to leave the Elder’s Hall, “Oh, Elder, I’m going to meet Master Gossay and Yisen Gard at noon to discuss related matters, so I won’t be coming back for lunch.”

“It’s your decision.”

Elder Prude stroked his beard, still pondering why his stomach might have a tendency to mutate, frowning deeply, “Strange, my meals are very regular, and my habits are healthy too, how could I have a stomach illness…”

“Oh, that’s right.”

The old man lifted his head, looking at Ian who was about to leave, “What’s the situation with Elan, why are there bite marks all over the blanket when he sleeps with you?”

“He said he dreamed he had turned into a dragon,” Ian thought for a moment and spoke half the truth, “He’s probably just hungry.”

“It’s time for growth.” Elder Prude had no suspicions.

Some time later.

Viscount Grant, smelling strongly of gunpowder, returned to his manor, exhausted.

With the return of Master Gossay and Yisen Gard, the fleets of the other powers also knew that they likely had neither the chance nor the excuse to attempt to breach the labyrinth anymore.

If they continued to dissipate time without any other excuse, what would occur was an actual regional conflict.

Without higher orders, such unilateral action would be considered the most serious form of defection, and even if they were to win, the fleet commanders were destined to face a grim fate.

After a standoff lasting an entire night, they vanished silently from the international waters, taken by a tide brought on by a strong gust of wind.

If that had been all, the Viscount wouldn’t have been so worn out…

What truly exhausted him was that his coastal guard had noticed movements from the Tenglan natives again.

A group of native fishermen claimed they had been robbed by Imperial People and sought an explanation, coming to Harrison Port in protest.

However, due to an attack by the Native Great Shaman a few days earlier, all these protesting Tenglans had been detained, yet Knight Aam felt something was off from their words and took them for further questioning.

Soon, they found a group of Imperial People and Canaan Moore Elves, who had stolen the fishermen’s boats and were now confronting the Tenglan natives along the coast of Redwood Forest.

It was the Green Tide exploration fleet and a group of Elf Pirates.

It must be said, Green Tide and the others were indeed lucky.

They had stolen the native boats and sailed back along the coast, managing to evade detection by the fleets from Fiery Flame Land and other regions.

Even if they had been noticed, they would probably have been mistaken for local natives and not given much thought; otherwise, the situation would have been complicated, and the standoff on the high seas could have continued for another week or two.

Since the boats stolen by Green Tide and the others were part of a tribe that frequently collaborated closely with Harrison Port, Viscount Grant hadn’t had to expend much effort to fish them out.

He also took the opportunity to declare in the Redwood Forest area that the fleets from Fiery Flame Land had been expelled, and that the cooperating natives, if they confessed now, could be forgiven; whereas, if they continued their obstinate behavior, they would face annihilation.

After finishing these tasks, he returned to his manor, completely drained.

And then, he received a report written by Ian.

“Ian is always the more reliable one, always knows what to do without being nudged…

If only the others could be as clever,” he murmured.

Ultimately, the Viscount was nearing seventy years of age; he sighed and then read Ian’s report earnestly, “Hah, I knew it, Elder Prude is always up to something, having Ian cultivate the Fairy Bloodline, huh?

The Cheharlowa Family’s depth is indeed greater than I imagined.”

“Hmm, the Mother Worm, parasites, Nest Will…

It seems the monster that Morin was so eager to exterminate back then was this one indeed, no wonder the Bishop took the initiative to gather intelligence and head to the ruins…

Sigh, but why on earth did you have to inform White Mist at the first opportunity?

At the end of the day, you are my knight, not the Church’s.”

Recalling those times, the Viscount couldn’t help but shake his head slightly.

Even now, he had no remorse concerning Morin’s death, for it was he who took the tailor’s son and made him a captain in the guard squad, he who made the impoverished Morin family well-off, and he who introduced Morin to the world of the Sublimators.

If there had been a chance, Morin might have become a true Knight.

He had even taken good care of Morin’s children; as a Lord, he had fulfilled his responsibilities.

But with regard to loyalty, Morin had fallen short.

“The Guard Squad’s remains…

right, the great storm won’t appear again; a funeral must be held for them, for all the deceased claimed by the great storm.”

Planning the significant upcoming event in his mind, the Viscount continued to review the report.

Then, his eyes widened in astonishment: “Ian?”

“How could he become Labyrinth Master?!”

“How did this labyrinth exploration end up with me being the last to know?!”