Chapter 115: Splitting the Spoils
The elves' greatest blunder was trying to use divination on Ambrose.
Not only had that alerted him to their maneuvering, in her attempt to stop him, Catherine had poured her own magic directly into the Wheel of Fate.
Against a mage well-versed in divination, this was tantamount to stripping naked and delivering oneself to the enemy.
Using Catherine's magic as an anchor, Ambrose could effortlessly peer into her past. The past, after all, was immutable, making it even easier to observe than the future.
"Mana addiction… The elves really are courting extinction."
Ambrose genuinely could not understand this self-destructive behavior. The elves were like heirs of a conglomerate. Born to obscene wealth, they were able to live lavishly, spend freely, and squander money for centuries on end without ever running dry. And yet, desperate to elevate the family enterprise, they had made reckless moves that would cause them to, within a few short years, exhaust a fortune sufficient to support even a hefty drug addiction.
The elves were already the equivalent of top-tier aristocracy in the continent at large: they had peerless beauty, unmatched status, a deep history, and overwhelming military might.
At that point, why not invest in philosophy, art, mathematics? Why not focus on cultural and scientific advancement rather than obsess over further militarization? What was the point?
No wonder the elven gods refused to intervene at all. If Ambrose were an elven god, he would have slapped this pack of lunatics senseless.