Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 971 - 415: Conquest and Otherworld Treasure Box_3

~4 minute read · 908 words
Previously on Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots...
Cassandra, exhausted from the thirteen-year war, examines a star-level "conquest" card that requires complete civilization subjugation. Despite recent gains, the card is less than half complete, and her allies grow impatient. Facing losses and dwindling support, she retreats to an altar to contact her ancestral bloodline for guidance.

But still no response.

"Ancestor! Regarding Eve’s treatment plan, I need your opinion!"

Her voice became urgent, even tinged with a hint of pleading.

As a bloodline heir of the Crown Clan, she deeply knew that the King of Absurdity possessed wisdom and power beyond the understanding of ordinary people.

Eve’s symptoms of Demon Devouring involved a rebound on the level of laws, and without the support of a Witch King-level being, any treatment attempt might end in tragedy.

The void remained deathly silent.

Cassandra felt a surge of anger rising in her chest, and she continued to call out, her voice growing louder:

"And the opening rights of the treasury! If the treatment succeeds, should the clan’s texts be opened to Ron? These all require your decision!"

Time ticked by, and the flesh on the altar began to emit a burnt smell from over-activation.

But that great being, as if it never existed, ignored her calls.

Cassandra’s patience finally reached its limit.

She suddenly drew out a Star-level Card, her purple eyes burning with anger:

"If you don’t want to care, then I’ll make the decision myself! Even if I have to break this damn card, I won’t let anyone manipulate me anymore!"

Her fingers tightened, and the edge of the card began to make tiny cracking sounds.

Although the starlight material was sturdy, under the Great Wizard’s pressure, tiny cracks began to appear.

Just as the card was about to break, the void suddenly rippled.

A paradoxical voice, as if from the depths of time, came:

"What a temperamental child..."

The consciousness of the King of Absurdity descended, but the way it descended was full of His usual absurdity.

The flesh on the altar began to rearrange and combine, forming a face that continuously changed expressions.

Sometimes it was a kindly old man, sometimes an indifferent middle-aged person, sometimes even an innocent child.

"Ancestor..."

Cassandra quickly put away the card, but the resentment in her tone was still evident:

"Why did you not respond to my call? These matters are crucial to the clan..."

"Crucial?"

The flesh face emitted a mocking laugh, its voice like countless people of different ages speaking simultaneously:

"Little Cassandra, what do you think is crucial? Your wars? Your conquests? Or the life and death of that artificial daughter of yours?"

Faced with such disdainful tone, Cassandra’s anger grew:

"Eve is your bloodline descendant! The pain she is enduring..."

"Pain?"

The voice of the King of Absurdity became more bizarre, as if mimicking different tones:

"Child, in my long years of existence, I’ve seen more pain than the sands of the Ganges. The ailment of a little girl doesn’t even count as dust on the cosmic scale."

"But she is your..."

"What she is doesn’t matter."

The King of Absurdity interrupted her, the flesh face began to change into various twisted expressions:

"The important thing is, what answer do you want me to give? Agree with your treatment plan? Or refuse?"

His tone became playful:

"No matter what I say, you will ultimately act according to your own ideas. So, why seek my approval?"

This sentence pierced Cassandra’s deepest pain like a sharp blade.

She realized that she had indeed made up her mind.

No matter how the ancestor responded, she would try to treat Eve.

Seeking approval was more about wanting psychological comfort.

"Since that’s the case..."

The King of Absurdity’s voice grew lazy:

"Regarding the treatment and the treasury, you handle it yourself.

I can only guarantee that even if the attempt fails, little Eve’s lifeline will not be cut."

"That’s all?"

Cassandra’s voice was full of disappointment:

"Can’t you offer more support?"

"My support?"

The flesh face began to laugh, the laughter as piercing as a shattered mirror:

"Child, if I help you with everything, would you still be an independent existence?"

The King of Absurdity’s tone became profound:

"True growth comes from facing the consequences of your choices alone.

Whether success or failure, it is all part of your own path."

The communication gradually blurred, and the flesh altar began to revert to its original state.

But before completely disconnecting, the King of Absurdity left a final word:

"Also, be careful with those ’gifts’ you hold. Some things exact a far heavier price to keep than to lose."

The room returned to silence, leaving Cassandra standing alone before the altar.

She clenched her fists tightly, her nails embedding deeply into her palms.

The ancestor’s indifference left her deeply frustrated.

"Back when you were fanning the flames, you were so active, and now you’re putting on airs..."

She cursed softly, resentment flashing in her eyes.

Cassandra clearly remembered the time when she ascended to Great Wizard status.

At that time, the King of Absurdity did not have this detached attitude.

He had actively left a "seed" deep within her bloodline, guiding her toward a path of conquest.

It was precisely those influences that gradually turned her into what she was now — greedy, belligerent, never satisfied.

And now, when she truly needed support and guidance.

This great ancestor showed an indifferent stance.

"You once wanted me to be a conqueror, and now disdain me for being too crazy..."

Cassandra sat in the command chair, feeling more exhausted than ever.

She remembered her original self.