Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 44 Arthas Cannot Die

Seeing Harry's confusion, Beckham continued, "The Elven race chooses this cruel method of succession because of the Elven King's method of power transmission. The Elven power transmission method is very unique; it is passed down through bloodlines—when they have offspring, a portion of their most primal power is directly transferred to their offspring."

She paused slightly, allowing Harry to process the information. "This means that the Elf King's power significantly declines after the birth of his children. This also explains why the Elf King who could simultaneously suppress two human Saint-level beings seventy years ago only demanded five provinces after his victory, and the Elven race never launched another attack afterward. Because his power declined considerably afterward. After reaching the peak of their power, every Elf King's most important mission, besides planning wars, is to leave offspring and pass on their power."

"The sacred bird of the Elven race is called the Single-Born Bladefeather. Because the mother doesn't bring back enough food, the first chick to hatch will push its unhatched siblings out of the nest, resulting in only one chick surviving at a time, just like the birth of the Elven King. The Elven King's power will flow among the descendants who have the Elven King's bloodline. Usually, each Elven King will have seven offspring."

Xiao Bei's voice was steady and clear as he continued to recount the cruel laws: "When these princes and princesses come of age and reach the peak of their power, the real competition begins. They will hunt each other in secret until only one remains. And this last survivor will personally end the life of the Elf King or Elf Queen, complete the final ritual, and be crowned the new king. With each death of a sibling, the dissipated life essence and power will be distributed to the surviving brothers and sisters. Therefore, the fewer the survivors, the stronger the individual power. When the final patricide ascends the throne, his power will reach an unprecedented peak."

Harry succinctly summarized, "In other words, the Elf King's power only flows through his bloodline; when the Elf King has offspring, his power is essentially dispersed; and when only one person remains in his bloodline, his power is reunited?"

"That's right, exactly," Beckham replied confidently.

This surprised Harry. He didn't realize that the Elf King's method of passing on power was so cruel, requiring the sacrifice of one's own blood relatives to gain power!

He nodded slowly, a chill running down his spine: "So, if Arthas were to die now... the remaining descendants of the Elven King would immediately become more powerful, and the final showdown would be accelerated, leading to the birth of a new king sooner. And once the new king is born prematurely, war will immediately break out to consolidate his authority."

“That’s right,” Xiao Bei affirmed. “And that’s not all. As far as I know, the previous Elven King and Queen passed away many years ago. Currently, there are only three candidates for the throne, and Arthas is one of them. They no longer need to ‘kill the king,’ they only need to decide the final winner. If Arthas dies, then there will only be two Elven princes left.”

She went on to reveal an even more shocking fact: "The Elf King who devoured five provinces of the Empire seventy years ago was not at his full power. He married his sister as the Elf Queen. Without this Elf Queen, the power he could have passed on to his descendants would have been far greater, and his fighting strength would have been even more terrifying."

Harry's heart trembled: "You mean... that Elf King who defeated two human Saint-level beings wasn't even at his complete form? If one of the remaining three candidates dies, how much will the remaining two... their power increase? If only one person is left..."

He could hardly imagine how terrifying that being would be.

At that time, the northern border of the empire will likely face not just the loss of a few provinces, but utter destruction.

"Exactly." Little Bei's gaze seemed to pierce through the ship's cabin, seeing the blood and fire of the future. "Therefore, Arthas must not die now. Moreover, the other two pure-blooded elf princes seem to have reached a consensus—they will join forces to eliminate Arthas, who has half-human blood. The conservative faction among the elves cannot accept a half-human becoming the king of the elves. Only after he is eliminated will the remaining two pure-blooded princes engage in a final life-or-death duel to choose a new king."

A chill ran down Harry's spine; he could almost see the fierce fighting in the northern part of the empire.

"Arthas," Little Beelzebub pointed out the key, "is a direct descendant of the former Elven King, and the key to preventing the birth of a new Elven King. If he dies now..."

She paused deliberately here, "which means that the other two princes can fight each other to determine the victor, and a new Elf King will be born! History tells us that every change of the Elf throne requires a war against external forces—using human blood and land to build their authority and unite the scattered forces within the Elf race."

She finally arrived at that somber conclusion: "Therefore, Arthas cannot die now. The cardinal who sacrificed his life did not save Arthas, but rather used this price to bring temporary peace to the north of the Empire. Every day he lives, the next time war breaks out will be postponed."

Harry finally understood completely. All the clues connected into a cold and clear chain: Arthas's life or death was directly related to the tilt of the balance of power, the timing of the birth of a new king, and when the war in the north would reignite.

Archbishop Lawrence's resolute sacrifice, at the cost of this extremely precious buffer period, was precisely what he bought.

The cabin fell silent, save for the slight creaking of the wooden planks and the faint sound of the waves.

Faced with this grand yet cold reality, Harry's heart sank to the bottom.

Yes, Arthas absolutely cannot die.

But the one who plunged the blade into his own heart in the forest could very well be this immortal elf prince. This chilling paradox left Harry feeling suffocated.

He couldn't kill Arthas, and even had to do everything he could to keep him alive, but Arthas could—and most likely has already done so in the future—kill him easily.

If I were to live my life again, would it simply be to become a silent pawn in this game of chess, disappearing in a different place and in a different way?

As the chill of despair began to spread, a thought, like a spark ignited in the darkness, suddenly jumped into his mind.

"Wait..." Harry looked up at Beckham, his eyes filled with confusion and a faint glimmer of hope. "The Elf Prince can't die. But if..."

……

As Harry stepped into the restaurant, memories flooded back.

His last conversation with the Duke was clearly not very satisfactory, and this time he would need the Duke of Langton's assistance.

So he changed his strategy.

He went to the same conspicuous spot as before, but this time, instead of having the waiter bring him mutton continuously, he first asked for a glass of water and a plate of potatoes, eating slowly and deliberately, his gaze seemingly casually sweeping across the restaurant.

Sure enough, not long after, the figure in the light gold, fitted long dress walked in with a steady gait. The Duke of Langton's gaze habitually swept across the room, pausing slightly when he saw Harry.

Harry set down his water glass at the opportune moment, stood up, and gave a slight bow with impeccable manners: "Good evening, Your Grace."

The duke approached, her expression remaining calm and unreadable. "I hope you don't mind me sitting here," she said, repeating the same phrase.

"It's my pleasure," Harry said, turning slightly to the side with a composed gesture.

The duchess sat down, and a servant quickly brought her a simple meal—a few slices of white bread and a few boiled olive-green artichokes, which certainly didn't look very appetizing. She glanced at the potatoes on Harry's table and said, "You eat very little."

"The food on the ship is almost always this bad, it's completely unappetizing," Harry replied casually.

The Duke nodded. "It will almost always be like this."

Neither of them spoke after that; they simply focused on eating. By the time the Duke of Langton had only one artichoke left on his plate, Harry had almost finished his potatoes as well.

Harry did the same thing almost simultaneously as the Duke of Langton put down his knife and fork.

Harry knew the opportunity was fleeting. He took a light breath and spoke in a measured tone, with a hint of concern: "Your Grace, I've heard there's a sick elf prince on board? It seems the situation isn't looking good."

The Duke of Langton paused slightly as he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief, then looked up at Harry. "Yes. There is an elf prince who is badly injured."

"I...have learned some healing arts." Harry straightened his back to make himself more convincing. "Although they're not too advanced, perhaps...I could go and take a look? Even if I can only offer some small help?" His blue eyes revealed genuine concern.

The Duke looked at him, smiled, and said calmly, "I'm afraid ordinary healing techniques won't be very effective. His injuries are severe."

"I understand." Harry lowered his head, appearing even more humble, but his tone still held onto that "good intention." "But I still want to... give it a try. After all, it's always unsettling to see others suffer and be unable to do anything about it."

The Duke of Langton put down her handkerchief. She leaned back slightly, her gaze fixed on Harry as if it were a physical object, scrutinizing him from head to toe for several seconds.

That gaze seemed to penetrate his bulky body and restrained expression, trying to figure out the purpose behind his words.

The cabin was so quiet that you could hear the soft sound of the waves in the distance.

Faced with the Duke of Langton's scrutiny, Harry bravely remained unfazed and continued to look at the Duke.

Finally, the Duke withdrew his gaze, and a smile returned to his face: "Since you have this idea, then I'll take you to give it a try."

"Thank you very much, Your Grace."

Harry bowed again, trying to suppress the surging emotions within him—

We've finally taken this step.