Death Wizard Diary.

Chapter 360 Are You About to Die?

Gorza wasn't embarrassed or annoyed by Kismet's use of the word "spanking"; he could even laugh along with Kismet.

"Heh, they don't have time to come and spank me right now."

The moment the two began to talk, the tense, pre-battle atmosphere that had been so palpable instantly vanished.

An eerie silence fell between them once again.

About a minute later, Gorsa broke the silence.

Why are you following Thor?

"Oh dear, I'll have to think about that excuse." But Kismet, holding his violin, thought for less than three seconds, "Probably because I'm curious about what happened to him."

Kismet seemed lost in memories, a very interested smile on his face.

"I've never seen such a twisted fate line before. So I'm very curious, what secrets does he hold?"

Gorsa's eyes crinkled into a smile, as if he were smiling smugly.

"I have already sent news of your presence in the western continent back to Skye City. I think many people want to come and talk to you."

Kismet's smile vanished.

Gorsa continued, "Oh, by the way, Mrs. Olivia also wrote to remind you that you should go back to Skye to see her."

Kismet's face was so dark it looked like it could drip water.

He stared at Gorsa for a long time before finally speaking, "As expected of a young genius from the Radiant Family, your network of connections is truly extensive. Is even Ophelia one of your clients?"

His words were laced with sarcasm, but Gorsa had no intention of arguing with him; he simply looked at him with a slight smile.

Kismet knew he was now slightly outmatched. The harp twirled between his fingers. "Alright, you win. Ah, what a pity, the story of the Western Continent hasn't even begun before I have to take my leave. How boring!"

"I climbed to a high place to look into the distance, but just before the sun rose over the sea, I turned and left... My life is always filled with so much helplessness. Ah, fate, you always weigh down on me, mocking my struggles and frivolously letting me sink."

He began to play again with a sorrowful expression, singing in a strange tone, and then turned and walked towards the direction of Chui Shou Valley.

The wind and sand rose up, covering his figure.

Gorza watched Kismet leave the whole time, and only when he could no longer see him did he suddenly slide down the tree trunk.

He clutched his chest, his body twitched twice, and then gradually calmed down.

"Are you about to die?" A melodious voice drifted from under the tree into Gorsa's ears.

Gorsa looked down and saw the half-elf, who was slightly disheveled but still beautiful.

He didn't answer the half-elf's question, but asked with a gentle smile, "Killed?"

"They ran away," the half-elf replied without a care in the world.

Gorsa wasn't disappointed either. "Was Wilde using the Heartbreak Flower?"

"Um."

"That's fine then. He suddenly appeared recently, but I'm at a critical time and can't spare much energy. You can't kill him, but crippling him for ten years will do."

"Then the commission is complete." The half-elf nodded, then turned and walked into the woods.

Gorsa frowned slightly, pink bandages piling up on his forehead. "Don't you never go near the Forest of Four Seasons?"

The half-elf stopped and turned his back to Gorsar.

"I don't want to live anymore."

He lowered his head and looked at his hands. "The pollution on my body is almost uncontrollable. Taking action just now hastened my collapse."

Gorsa sighed softly. In fact, when he entrusted the half-elf to deal with the land-based ships, he had already anticipated that it would exacerbate their collapse.

He had expected the half-elf to make exorbitant demands, but to his surprise, the other party agreed very readily.

It turns out that the half-elves' willingness to use their abilities extensively, even resorting to pollution to slaughter ships, was actually a sign of their self-destruction.

Gorsa understood that the other party was truly tired of living.

"I hear my ancestors calling to me." The half-elf suddenly turned around, letting Gorza see his face clearly. "Gorza, this world hates elves, and I can't change that."

Upon seeing the half-elf turn around, Gorsa's facial muscles tensed abruptly.

The half-elf noticed Gorza's reaction, said nothing, turned around, and continued walking deeper into the forest.

"Half-elf, kick Thor out before you die!" Gorsa shouted, pressing his churning chest as the figure was about to disappear.

The sound, like a sharp arrow, pierced through the air and vegetation, clearly reaching the half-elf's ears.

The latter waved his hand, which was taken as an agreement.

Gorsa breathed a sigh of relief. "Really..."

He had always known that half-elves were very beautiful, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it when asked to describe it.

He couldn't even recall what color the half-elf's skin was, how many eyes it had, or how long its hair was... He only knew that the combination of those features was indescribably beautiful.

But such a beauty is not even allowed to exist.

Half-elves don't even dare to have a proper name.

Despite being a second-tier wizard, Gorsa still didn't know the real reason for the elves' disappearance.

After getting to know this half-elf, he had some guesses, but he didn't want to think about them too deeply.

When the half-elf said that the world hated him, his once beautiful and harmonious features suddenly became incredibly distorted and terrifying, and all the beautiful words he once had were instantly replaced by disgust and eeriness.

Gorsa, who possessed the strength of a top-tier second-tier wizard, felt nauseous and wanted to vomit after just one glance. He even wished he could personally make this guy disappear from the world completely.

Fortunately, he suppressed the thought.

The hidden information here is enough to send chills down your spine.

"There are too many unknowns, one more won't make a difference." Gorsa tapped his head, trying to forget what had just happened.

"Now let's talk about you," Gorsa suddenly said, bowing his head.

A black, humanoid shadow emerged from his body. The figure was slender and petite, resembling a young girl, thin as paper, and swayed wildly in the wind.

"I told you to locate him, so why did you talk to Oscar Wilde for so long?"

Yura's voice came through, "I knew him before. Since he's going to die, let's say goodbye."

"Didn't you say anything unnecessary?"

Yura laughed. "Are you angry?"

Gorsa reached out and stroked Yura's head, her pink fingers occasionally disappearing into the black shadows and then reappearing.

His voice remained gentle as water, "Yura, remember, only I will spare no effort to revive you."

Yura's shadow began to tremble when Gorsa touched her, and her laughter stopped abruptly.

She spoke in a trembling voice, "I know that only by completing the resurrection experiment can I live like a human being."

"Yes, living like a human used to seem so easy. Look at the half-elf, he also wanted to live like a human, but his other half of elven blood kept pulling him towards the unknown abyss." Gorsa suddenly pushed Yura into his body again, and only after the shadow obediently disappeared inside did he whisper, "So you should thank me."

"I allow you to be mischievous, but you cannot betray me."

"...I understand." Yura's suppressed reply came from Gorsa's chest.

Gorsa smiled with satisfaction, and the next moment, his figure disappeared into the woods.

It was as if it had never existed.

Outside the woods, the flying boat, which was witnessing a living hell, suddenly began to freeze.

All the struggles and pains have been transformed into sculptures.

In the end, everything turned into a giant ice sculpture.

As the sun shines and the temperature rises, the ice and snow begin to melt.

It blends into the soil, into the cracks in the rocks, into the spring breeze; it is absorbed by the trees, by the flowers and grass, by the flies and insects.

The enormous ice sculpture vanished without a trace.

While the outside world enjoyed peace and tranquility, Saul could only run on his own two legs through a dense forest.

He leaped over bushes, dodging falling branches, and followed Mark as they raced through the primeval forest.

They fled entirely because Mark suddenly shouted, "The elves are coming!"

Then he plunged into the dense woods nearby, leaving behind only the words, "Follow me if you don't want to die!"

(End of this chapter)