Above The Sky
Chapter 647 - 647 604 Adalbert You're Fired!

647: Chapter 604 Adalbert, You’re Fired!

(2/3) 647: Chapter 604 Adalbert, You’re Fired!

(2/3) “No, it’s not the same.” [Where is it the same?!]

Suddenly, Ian opened his eyes, almost simultaneously with Adalbert.

At this moment, Adalbert finally understood what Duke Sorin meant.

— Because he had created artificial souls, he had created the inheritance of the Deceased Monarch, and up to now, the bodies of Humans were no longer ‘unique’ to their lives.

All he had to do was wait a while, wait until a few years later, when all the residents of Duke Sorin’s Domain had artificial souls, and then Duke Sorin would sign this contract with his people.

He would become the Deceased Monarch, protecting everyone through the foreseeable natural disasters and calamities in the coming troubled times.

And just so.

The Avak Viscounty was the pioneering technical trial area.

All the deceased here, even those who were mutilated or tortured to death as test subjects…

still had souls!

As long as there were artificial human bodies with 100% resonance and soul compatibility rates, and once this technology was mastered, Duke Sorin could, with the power of a Fourth-Level strongman, conjure artificial human cultivation chambers out of thin air, resurrecting all his people from nothing on the ruins!

Life would be redefined, and the demise of the body would not be considered ‘death’…

so, Duke Sorin essentially lost nothing and gained everything!

Theoretically, for Duke Sorin, this was the perfect plan.

He could compensate everyone after they died, and give them back a normal life even after everything seemed to have ended—if he really managed to do this, then truly, in theory, no one would suffer a loss, at worst just have some bad memories.

But Adalbert didn’t think so.

[Duke, you say it’s all the same…

I absolutely cannot agree with that]

Adalbert’s face still bore the shock and self-doubt of knowing too much truth.

However, the man who seemed so gentle was now furiously clenching his fists.

He looked down at the crimson ground, at the blood all over the floor, and growled from his throat: [All that pain, those altered lives, those budding wishes that were prematurely cut short—Duke, do you really think that after everything happens, everything can go back to how it was?]

[Those who have had their souls scattered to the winds, those who never had the chance to have a soul, those who went mad from torture and experimentation, not to mention whether they can be revived or not…

will everything still be the same?!]

[Of course not.]

But Duke Sorin remained unmoved by this question, and Ian even saw a faint, barely discernible smile on his lips: [But I did just that—I’m not going to wait until everything is completely safe, all technology beyond moral reproach, and then tell those who are already dead, saying, I had a technology that might have saved you, that might have killed you, but for moral reasons, I chose not to use it and just watched everything happen.]

[I judged that this was the choice with the least death—do you plan to persuade me with reason, planning, or morality, or are you going to force me with violence?]

[Adalbert, I’ll say it again.]

[If you’re really dissatisfied, why don’t you try to make a change, to abolish it?]

[Now, you’re opposing me, and I’m not angry.

But have you thought of a better plan to replace mine?]

—Is Adalbert the illegitimate son of the Duke?

Ian glanced at Adalbert, who was stunned again, and then at Duke Sorin; if he couldn’t tell that Duke Sorin had been crazily hinting to Adalbert from the start, wanting to impart all the secret knowledge in his mind and all the keys to the latter, then he shouldn’t claim to be intelligent.

The answer was, of course, impossible.

Adalbert’s father should be Baron Dandelion from the neighboring Barony, the age and personality matched up.

It’s just that Duke Sorin really seemed to take a favorable view of Adalbert…

after all, he was the only true genius alchemist under his command who could lead ground-breaking research.

It’s just that this research genius’s character was simply too upright—perhaps it was also because the influence of the Lost Souls in his body made him empathize deeply with their suffering.

He couldn’t ignore Duke Sorin’s actions, and even though he couldn’t come up with a better solution, he instinctively wanted to oppose Duke Sorin.

[What about you?]

After instructing Adalbert, Duke Sorin turned to Ian, his silver pupils facing the purple luminescence of the Ghost Valley Knight’s eyes: “If you wish to be my enemy because of this, then come at me.

I’ll be waiting for you to grow to a sufficient height.

This is an outcome I’ve considered long ago.”

“Even the best and worst outcome I’ve considered was for Hiliard himself to stop me…

if he were still alive.”

“But you are the same,” he said softly.

“Not the same.”

Ian shook his head slightly, “The teacher would stop you, but I won’t.”

“I just want to tell you that we are not the same.”

“You gave up too soon.”

“You won’t?”

Hearing Ian’s words, Duke Sorin wondered, “Have you not also gained the recognition of the Lost Souls?

You were so angry fighting Rafin, I thought you had the same temperament as Hiliard.”

“And what, pray tell, was given up too soon?”

“Anger is one thing; your technique is useful is another.”

Taking a deep breath to calm his emotions, Ian’s gaze, indifferent beyond anything else, he said coolly, “In the case of Star Prison Tianyu, you’ve given up too soon.”

“A barrier calculated in light-years cannot heal so quickly, and the impending Supernova Eruption impact will surely slow the pace of the cracks closing.

Although this is just my guess, I will estimate on the optimistic side.”

“Ultimately, whether the process of Star Prison Tianyu closing takes several decades, over a hundred years, or just a dozen years—we cannot predict…

Splitt Sorin, disciple of Yinaiga, why give up?

Even if you can never touch the edge of Star Prison Tianyu in your lifetime, what of it?”

“It’s right there; why not even attempt to approach it?”

With clear articulation and a bright voice, Ian raised his hand, palm facing upward in a gesture of assertion, “Since you’ve already given up, then give me a portion of Inega II’s legacy.”

“If you won’t go, I will.”

The entire mini-universe fell into utter silence.

Adalbert looked at Ian with an expression of incredulity, utterly unable to comprehend why the Ghost Valley Knight would do such an unbelievable thing—what was he doing?

He was mocking a Fourth Energy Level Imperial Duke of The Empire for giving up halfway and asking the other party to give him a share of the Deceased Monarch’s legacy!

Listen!

—Give it to me!

Just like that, demanding a share!

But what shocked him even more were the actions of Duke Sorin.

“You’re right,”

Staring at Ian for a long while, Duke Sorin seemed somewhat dazed, as if he had just seen two shadows.

They weren’t from the distant past, but they felt like shadows from a previous life.

Facing Ian’s sarcasm and declaration, after a moment of silence, he laughed as if a burden had been lifted: “Yes, we are different.

I’ve failed to meet the expectations of that guy Yinaiga.”

“If you want it, then it’s yours,”

He turned his head, looked at Adalbert, and with a sense of naturalness similar to Ian’s, said, “Adalbert, after leaving the laboratory, follow this First Knight.”

“If you do not agree with my philosophy and decisions, and you can’t propose a solution or bring a better future, then I have no need for you.”

“Adalbert.

You…

have been dismissed.”