Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 294: His goal…

Thaloren shook his head and said heavily, "It’s not just difficult—it’s damn near impossible now. Sea King Maelthorak’s injuries could’ve been healed, sure. But the real problem is his Crimson Ultimate Hero’s Primordial Force—it’s been damaged so badly, there’s almost no saving it."

He paused, then added, "And more importantly, to save him... someone would have to give up their own Crimson Ultimate Hero’s Primordial Force. Now tell me—who the hell would be willing to do that?"

Ethan fell silent.

Asking a Crimson Ultimate Hero—someone already insanely powerful—to give up their own Primordial Force just to save an injured comrade? Even if someone was willing, it just didn’t make sense. The cost was too high. The trade-off? Totally not worth it.

Thaloren continued, his voice tinged with a strange mix of regret and realism. "Honestly, if Sea King Maelthorak dies... it might actually benefit a lot of people."

"Lord Valkarion, you should know this—if a Crimson Ultimate Hero wants to get stronger, one of the most effective ways is to absorb the Primordial Force of another Crimson Ultimate Hero with the same magical attribute and Tier."

"But getting your hands on that kind of Primordial Force—especially from a high-tier Crimson Ultimate Hero—is insanely hard. There’s really only one way to get it: defeat them... or kill them."

"You know how tough that is. I don’t need to spell it out for you."

"And Maelthorak? He wasn’t just any Crimson Ultimate Hero—he was a Sea King. One of the strongest."

"Do you have any idea how rare it is for someone at the King level to die under normal circumstances? It could take tens of thousands of years before something like that happens again."

"That’s why Maelthorak’s become a target. Everyone’s watching him now."

"Because everyone knows—if you can get your hands on a Sea King’s Primordial Force, it could be enough to push a lower-tier Crimson Ultimate Hero into King-level territory. And for someone who’s already a Sea King? It could take them even further. Make them even more powerful."

Thaloren looked Ethan straight in the eye, his voice low and full of meaning. "With temptation like that... who could say no?"

Ethan opened his mouth, but no words came out. His thoughts were a mess.

So that’s what this was all about.

No wonder even Kyros—Maelthorak’s own kin—was eyeing him like prey. It wasn’t just betrayal. It was desperation. Maelthorak had been backed into a corner, with nowhere left to run.

If it was all about the Primordial Force of a Crimson Ultimate Hero...

Then yeah, it all made sense now.

Because of how unique the Primordial Force of the six Dragon Gods’ Crimson Ultimate Heroes was, the only real way to grow stronger through it... was to go after your own kind. People from your own faction.

But still...

It was brutal. Cold. And painfully real.

After a moment of reflection, Ethan turned to Thaloren again and asked, "Then why hasn’t anyone just made a move already?"

Thaloren glanced at him, then chuckled and shook his head. "Because we’re not the Dark Alliance, Ethan. We’re the Tidesworn. If we were to openly strike down Sea King Maelthorak, the consequences would be catastrophic. Not only would it push us dangerously close to the Dark Alliance’s way of doing things, but it would also shatter trust within our own ranks. Everyone would start watching their backs, wondering who’s next." frёewebnoѵēl.com

"Sure, everyone wants to get stronger. But whether you’re a regular hero, a lord, a King-tier powerhouse, or even an Overlord, no one can guarantee they’ll never be wounded in the future. And if getting injured means you’re as good as dead? Then aside from those lunatics in the Dark Alliance who don’t fear death, no one could survive in that kind of pressure cooker."

"That’s why we can’t turn our blades on our own. At least, not directly. That’s a hard line we don’t cross. And honestly, it’s the last bit of decency we’ve got left. The last chance for any of us."

"Live or die, fall or rise—it all comes down to luck and your own strength."

"And this war between factions? That’s the blade. It’s the perfect excuse. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

As he said this, Thaloren suddenly stood up.

Then, to Ethan’s surprise, he bowed slightly and took his leave.

"Lord Valkarion, I’ve taken up enough of your time today. I’ll be going now. I also hope the misunderstanding between us won’t damage the friendship between our people... I’ll make sure the Abyssan Naga forces withdraw from Crimsonstar Kingdom within the next two weeks."

"That should make your campaign against Crimsonstar Kingdom a little easier. Consider it another gesture of goodwill from us—our way of making amends. I hope you’ll accept it."

With that, he turned to the other Deep Sea Naga hero standing quietly behind him.

In a calm, almost casual tone, he said, "Orykas, let’s go."

"Yes, Elder Thaloren..." Orykas nodded respectfully and stepped forward to support him as they left the palace.

Ethan didn’t stop them. He just watched in silence until they were gone.

Only then did he turn to Cicero, who had been quiet the entire time. His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of suspicion in them.

"Cicero... do you have any idea what he was really after?"

Because honestly, this whole conversation had felt like he was being led along from the start. Sure, on the surface, everything Thaloren said made sense. But Ethan knew—this wasn’t the whole story. Not even close.

If what Thaloren said about the Deep Naga Temple was true—if there wasn’t a single word of exaggeration in it—then there was no way in hell that one of the ten Elders of the Abyssan Naga’s supreme Racial Temple would show up in person... just to drop a few cryptic lines and walk away.

That was impossible.

So what was his real goal?

What the hell was he really after?

"His goal..."

Cicero furrowed his brow, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Master, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure myself. But from what I can tell, on the surface at least, it seems like they came here to make peace."

"Peace?" Ethan blinked, caught off guard.

"Yeah..." Cicero nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "We killed two of their orange-tier Legendary heroes not long ago. That must’ve been a serious blow to them."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "Those two Naga Swordmasters... even among the Abyssan Naga, they weren’t weak. In fact, I’d say they were probably among their stronger elites."

"From what I know, the Abyssan Naga are a massive race—one of the most dominant oceanic factions, with sixteen different sub-races under their banner. Their racial structure is incredibly complex and powerful. But even so... they don’t seem to have their own 13th-Tier Legendary Unit class."

"The highest they’ve got, as far as I know, is 12th-Tier."

At that, Cicero’s expression grew more serious. He looked directly at Ethan, his voice lowering. "So I think they came because the loss they suffered was too great. But at the same time, they didn’t want to make an enemy out of us. That’s why Thaloren showed up in person—to offer a truce. But..."

"But what?" Ethan asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

At the same time, a flicker of doubt and contemplation passed through his own gaze. Something about all this didn’t sit right.