Chapter 346: The Gate of the Abyss (Part 2)

The hall fell into silence, and everyone felt a deep sense of relief at their own fortune.

Had it not been for the series of events that led them here, had they remained in Orgrimmar, they would likely have faced total annihilation under the swarming insect tide unleashed by the newly opened Calamity Gate.

Of course, it was also possible that, like last time, they might have managed to foil the Crimson Demon Lord’s schemes and prevent the gate from opening. But looking back, that place had always been like a dormant volcano, ready to erupt at any moment. Leaving it behind was undoubtedly a better option than living in constant fear.

“Over three hundred elves dead…” Wu Qingsong was struck by the number.

To him, elves had always seemed like parasites upon this world. Aside from outliers like Marquis Osaga, most of them brought nothing but harm. Yet, this battle had somewhat altered his perspective.

Given the elves’ strict hierarchy and traditional ways, those deployed to fight in that region could not have been weaklings. At the very least, they should have been warriors of Roderick and Raman’s caliber—elves who had once battled against them in the Tecks Mountains.

Three hundred of such elves, dead…

“Any news on Marquis Osaga?” Wu Qingsong asked instinctively.

“He’s still alive, but he’s reportedly been placed under house arrest,” Red Moon answered.

“What? Why?” The news completely took Wu Qingsong by surprise.

“They say it’s because he knew the region was at risk yet failed to allocate enough manpower and resources. He was easily lured away by a minor insectoid swarm, which ultimately led to the catastrophe.”

Though Marquis Osaga was the most knowledgeable and potentially the greatest threat among the elves, a sense of frustration welled up in Wu Qingsong’s chest.

Even after all this time, he still remembered the conversation he once had with the marquis about the Calamity Gates—the sense of duty and responsibility Osaga had displayed.

Now, the disaster he had feared had truly come to pass.

“What about the Marquis of Riniconia?”

“He’s believed to have perished in battle.”

That answer brought Wu Qingsong a slight sense of satisfaction.

Yet, it was frustrating—those who had done nothing, who allowed things to unfold unchecked, were absolved of blame simply because they died. Meanwhile, those who had put in effort and taken responsibility were made into scapegoats simply because they had survived. Even if this happened within the enemy’s ranks, it was hard to feel pleased about it.

“Look on the bright side, at least for the next few years, the elves’ attention will be entirely focused on containing this new Calamity Gate. They won’t have time to meddle in your affairs in the wilderness,” Red Moon said. “This is our greatest opportunity. And with so much of their power depleted, doesn’t this improve our chances of success?”

The heavy atmosphere in the hall eased slightly.

Even Beck and Morin cracked a few jokes about the elves before the meeting finally concluded.

“Nagrand has changed so much, it’s overwhelming,” Red Moon remarked. “Can I have Xeila or Liuli show me around tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Wu Qingsong replied.

As Red Moon prepared to leave, Wu Qingsong couldn’t help but ask her one last question.

“If we really succeed… if we truly destroy the empire… can we handle the insectoid invasion on our own?”

Red Moon stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean?”

“I just realized… the elves aren’t exactly what I thought they were—”

“You’re wrong!” Red Moon’s voice suddenly rose, her emotions flaring. “Without the elves, the world would be better off! Think about it. If they hadn’t slaughtered so many gifted children to maintain their oppressive rule, if they hadn’t wiped out entire beastkin families who inherited their ancestors’ bloodlines, then with our population numbers alone, we would have produced countless strong warriors! The insectoids wouldn’t even be a problem!

“The Calamity Gates aren’t new. Before the elves ruled this world, beastkin protected it just fine from the insectoid threat. You may have seen the elves fight in this war, but if it weren’t for their centuries of systematic massacres against talented beastkin, the insectoids never would have had the chance to emerge! The elves destroyed the very forces that once safeguarded this world. Now, they’re paying the price for their own crimes! They deserve this!”

“I’m sorry.” Wu Qingsong offered a sincere apology. “I was wrong to doubt.”

Only now did he truly remember—Dark Moon was an organization formed by survivors of those very massacres. Red Moon had a far deeper understanding of this issue than he did, and undoubtedly bore greater pain because of it.

Indeed, even the Flame Demon Lord had hinted at this before—when it questioned him, it didn’t even consider elves a separate race. It lumped them together with beastkin.

The Feathered Tribes, Scaled Clans, Beastkin, and Dragonkind—these were likely the races that once drove the insectoids underground. But later, they had fought amongst themselves for dominance. In the end, the beastkin emerged victorious.

Then, the elves rose to power.

Cooperation, conflict, division—an endless cycle.

Wu Qingsong realized his mistake. If they were truly capable of defeating the elves and toppling the empire, then by definition, they would already possess a power surpassing the elves. In that case, wouldn’t the insectoid threat have already been dealt with?

Red Moon said nothing more. She turned and left the hall.

“I still don’t trust her,” Ram said.

She had once been influenced by Red Moon’s abilities, forced into actions that went against her will. The memory of that betrayal had never faded.

“I know. I don’t fully trust her either,” Wu Qingsong said, casually pulling Ram into his arms and kissing the tip of her ear. “Even now, we don’t know how many people they truly have, or how much power they wield. Aside from a few organizational names they’ve used in the past, we know next to nothing about them.”

This had been the case ever since their first cooperation years ago. Yet, despite increasing interactions, that veil of secrecy had never lifted.

“We can’t let her find out about the firearms,” Wu Qingsong whispered. “And we need to keep her people away from them as much as possible. Anyone involved in gunpowder and firearm production must be completely controlled. The craftsmen she brought with her, if they get involved, we’ll give them the best treatment, the best lives they could ask for, but once they’ve been exposed to this knowledge, they can never be allowed to contact the outside world again.”

“I understand.” Though she still didn’t fully grasp why Wu Qingsong was so invested in this seemingly impractical invention, Ram nodded. “I’ll have Morin pick out the most devout and loyal mousekin to keep an eye on them.”