Chapter 178: An Irresistible Choice

Upon hearing Li En's request, the snake happily coiled around him.

"I didn't mean to torment you—I simply no longer exist. On the level of cause and effect, I cannot interfere with any event. If you wish to accept my help, you must pay a price."

With the snake's guidance, the disturbed cause-and-effect threads could restore balance between both parties.

This was probably the snake's claim, but Li En didn't believe a single word of it—anyone who easily trusted the snake's words was disrespecting the snake's "great achievements."

"Speak. What kind of amusement do you want? Don't make it too cruel, or I won't do it." Li En remained wary; the High Knight trial had already passed.

But if he messed this up, he'd already become a sacrilegious offender against the Princess—and instantly become the snake's greatest entertainment.

"Hehe, relax, relax. This time I'll change the game—I'll let you have some agency."

The snake blinked, time and cause-and-effect never linear to him; the dense web of causality lay utterly bare before his eyes.

Boring. Boring.

A snake's life where the answer is instantly known upon looking—like an exploration game with a full map cheat—is simply too dull.

"Alright, I'll give you a choice—let you take the lead."

The snake paused, then made a judgment.

To make the cause-and-effect threads more chaotic, more unobservable black-box nodes were needed—but without triggering massive events that would kill the man before him. Last night, over drinks with a friend, he'd learned the current Magic Tide was far worse than expected; now was not the time for the Thousand-Faced Dragon to die.

"By the way, Kuku has seven disciples. Choose one. Publicly confess to them, and swear, 'I am willing to spend my entire life with you.' And this time, you must not tell anyone about our agreement—you must pretend it's your own choice."

Li En froze. What the hell? Some kind of bullying confession game?

Didn't you say I, Li En, am yourself? Can't you just spare yourself a little?

But the snake on his shoulder had twisted into a knot, delightedly sensing how the tangled threads of causality had unraveled after his words.

Everything before him was chaos—he grinned with deep satisfaction.

"Of course. Of course, you're the unobservable variable, outside fate and causality."

The snake was satisfied—he could no longer see the future. The Thousand-Faced Dragon's disciples and the Thousand-Faced Dragon himself had directly scrambled this future.

"I refuse." Li En gritted his teeth. This would utterly shatter the fragile relationships he'd painstakingly built.

"You won't refuse." The snake didn't need to look—he already knew how Li Ensu would choose.

A mere farce in exchange for critical information granting a qualitative leap in power? The ruthlessly results-driven Li Ensu would never refuse.

Li En fell silent, weighing every possibility.

"I recall Kuku has male disciples, doesn't he?"

Li En hinted—perhaps saying something like "a lifelong friend" could get him through this.

"Of course. You can say it to him." The snake's vision brightened with even more delightful futures; he could barely contain his smile.

Li En hesitated, instinctively sensing danger. After a pause, he asked:

"He… should be normally oriented, right?" Li En had met that male alchemist—he found him oddly effeminate.

"He is now." The snake replied firmly.

But did that imply that if Li En said "lifelong friend," the man's orientation would change?

If this were anyone else, Li En might suspect deception—but this creature could truly infiltrate minds and alter subconscious impulses!

He might gamble and accidentally flip someone's sexuality—this was far too treacherous.

"Actually, you could set up the scenario yourself—confess first, then imprison the female apprentice, eliminate all witnesses. That would still satisfy my conditions," the snake offered, as if presenting a second option—seemingly perfect.

"Absolutely not." Li En shouted refusal; his agitated heart instantly calmed.

Li En looked at the snake with unease. In that moment, he felt as if he were on the verge of breaking his oath—like a Holy Knight who strays from the path of goodness, he too would be utterly destroyed.

Truly, no wonder he was the snake. Just one sentence, and Li En felt his inner resolve trembling.

His relentless pursuit of gain and results might well be one of Li Ensu's exposed weaknesses.

"You can refuse. Perhaps the next Heroic Soul will be much more reasonable—and grant you exactly what you desire." The snake feigned kindness, but he already knew Li En's answer—this was the greedy "Li Ensu."

"No. My time is limited. Tell me." Li En took a deep breath and made his decision.

He needed power. Given the snake's experience, he should possess intelligence beyond ordinary Heroic Souls.

This was the best choice. There was no reason to reject this possibility over mere interpersonal complications.

Instantly, the snake's grin twisted into something grotesque—he saw more and more entertainment unfolding.

"You won't be disappointed."

The snake's intelligence was simple and direct; his record ensured he never lied in transactions.

"Your greed is perfectly normal. Most magical races have their own geniuses. Over long ages, they've forged their own solutions."

This was the snake's advantage over ordinary Heroic Souls—his experience offered countless possibilities.

The snake didn't propose a single solution—he merely described each race's situation. Each race differed: their martial arts, magic, and problem-solving paths were all unique.

The beastkin were terrible in this regard—their history was too short. Searching their society, Li En would find no suitable solution.

"Your Mage Quarter's guard, the Arcane Knights, are a classic example. Even Grand Knights have only second-ring spellcasting ability, and their primary offensive magic is cantrips—pathetic."

The fact that Arcane Knights guarded the Mage Quarter proved they weren't terrible in the Beastkin Kingdom.

Heavy armor restricts mobility and impedes elemental and magical flow—so lower spell tiers, make low-ring spells the core of combat, and train relentlessly to cast while armored.

I've only got these few cantrips, but I've mastered them—armor barely hinders me anymore.

Their main offensive method is actually the "magic sword." If attaching elemental energy from cantrips to a blade counts as a magic sword (though no such thing as a Thundering Sword exists in reality), the low total elemental output makes the magic sword's damage extremely subtle.

Li En's current Dragon Flame Sword is already strong enough to rival a Grand Knight's Arcane Knight—put on armor, change the color, and he could seamlessly blend into an Arcane Knight squad. This indirectly proves Arcane Knights have no real upper limit in the current environment.

The beastkin have many similar magic knights, all with strangely balanced power—many are essentially armored "beasts."

"You could use your evolved race's innate abilities as magic, treating beastkin like beasts—but you probably wouldn't like that."

Li En listened to the beastkin's paths and kept shaking his head.

Easy to start, but the ceiling is too low—even zero improvement (Li En's magic sword and future dragonbreath already surpass them).

"Modern elves have their own elven magic. Their sword-dancers' armor is latticed—its defense is terrible. They rely entirely on evasion to avoid damage. That won't suit you at all."

Elven dual-wielders are usually special casters who bond with swords. Their magic is often designed solely to serve the sword—not true dual-wielding, but rather a dedicated Sword-Song path.

Their armor and sword must be custom-made, their entire magical system exclusive. Li En could study this path, but he should absolutely avoid it.

"During the Ancient War, sword-singers and sword-dancers were slaughtered en masse—literally the most expensive, luxurious cannon fodder in history. They were too fragile." The snake's voice dripped with contempt.

Reality isn't a game. No matter how agile your reflexes, evasion has limits.

Once forced into direct combat, or on a battlefield with little room to dodge, they shatter like eggs.

The snake had seen it firsthand: a red dragon swept across the battlefield, its dragonbreath engulfing the sword-dancer zone. Seconds later, only charred corpses remained—or a herd of mammoth war-elephants trampled through, leaving elven sword-singers utterly defenseless.

"Frankly, they're just too frail. They can't wear heavy armor, and to stay light, they don't even carry protection. In actual combat, the very elves they look down upon—elven knights—are far superior." Beastkin don't need magic—they have their own innate abilities and the "Beast Secret Arts" system. Their flesh itself is the best armor.

Giants do wear armor—and it's formidable. They don't need magic either; their innate abilities are powerful enough.

Among dwarf lineages with giant blood, their rune mages are heavy-armor spellcasters.

They cast using pre-prepared rune stones and secret inscriptions—somewhat like heavy-armored priests tearing scrolls. Heavy armor doesn't hinder their casting.

These are merely common dual-wielder units on the Prime Plane. As he spoke, the snake listed many races Li En had never heard of.

"You've seen the Machine Race, right? She and her creator are a fused combat pair—she can transform her own body into armor and gear to protect her creator in battle."

"Treants and sprites might help you—their elven bonds could suit you well."

"Elemental beings' bodies are their armor; their abilities can assist you too."

"Oh, and demons—various hellish weapons and armor. Never mind—you're a Holy Knight."

The snake gave no direct answer—he presented the dual-wielding methods of various races. Ultimately, all races sought to maximize overall combat power.

Heavy armor enhances survivability; casting while armored ensures stable spellcasting without sacrificing self-preservation.

"Most importantly, you must determine not merely why you want to cast while armored—but why you want to dual-wield at all."

"Ultimately, you're chasing immediate combat power. Some long-eared fighters who dance around like 'dual-wielders' are the perfect counterexample—except for a handful of top-tier masters, elven sword-dancers and sword-singers typically wear chainmail or leather, thin armor, low attack, close-range—literally the lowest-floor dual-wielders."

Seeking fusion of elemental and physical power is normal. The dragon race is the classic example. In truth, every race has its own solution.

Li En needs heavy armor because his primary role is Holy Knight—a combat class that must face opponents head-on, where the winner is whoever survives longer. An unarmored knight can only rely on flesh to absorb blows—death is inevitable.

"This fighting style is actually very similar to dragons."

Vast, evil dragons are kings of the hunt—and also masters of combat.

Red dragons excel at high-speed dive-bombing (dragonbreath). Black dragons are masters of underwater, swamp, and ambush warfare. Blue dragons not only ambush across all terrains but are also skilled in military strategy and war games—green dragons, habitual schemers, are adept at traps and jungle ambushes.

Who's missing? Ah, white dragons below the ancient tier—just write them off as beasts.

The snake flicked his tail, and phantom dragons appeared in midair.

The red dragon's sudden dive-strike (dragonbreath) like a fighter jet breaking through defenses,

The black dragon's sudden upward lunge from water like a shark lunging to bite prey,

The blue dragon like an antlion, bursting from sand to tear into its target,

Even the green dragon waits among trees, then strikes with sudden, silent motion.

"Have you noticed? They're all like sharks—or T. rexes—excellent at ambush kills."

Sudden acceleration, instant full-speed lunge.

During the full-body lunge, defense is nearly nonexistent—they ignore counterattacks, waiting to see who dies first.

"So you mean I should learn from them?" Li En, with dragon blood, might follow this path.

His scales would harden, his muscles strengthen—why not wear dragonhide or use his own dragon skin to endure enemy blows and overpower them?

"No. That path is suicide. You're fundamentally different from them." The snake seemed to have been waiting for Li En to walk into this dead end—and now he laughed openly.

"Dragonhide isn't as tough as you think. A weakling can't pierce it, but for a strong opponent, breaking through the skin isn't hard—even ancient dragons can be easily pierced by high-tier artifacts."

Li En was confused now—then how were dragons still so powerful?

"The key isn't hardness—it's size. They're just big enough."

That's why they can charge head-on—they're not just heavy armor units, they're super-giant units. The older the dragon, the larger its body; an ancient dragon's claw can snatch up a full-grown dragon.

Even if you can pierce through its defense, can a single needle kill a giant beast?

Even if you sever a limb, it's not a fatal wound—a dragon with a missing limb is like a human who lost a hand; it can still grit its teeth and keep fighting.

"Dragons have extremely strong vitality, and as children of the elements, their bodies are saturated with elemental energy. You can pierce the skin and cut the flesh, but the deeper you go, the greater the resistance becomes."

Unless you shatter the dragon's heart or brain, or decapitate it outright, don't expect to easily kill an adult dragon.

Their prey is mostly far smaller than they are, so they can simply charge in without armor.

But Li En is still a humanoid creature; even if he evolved adult dragon skin armor, a skilled opponent with a good sword could still pierce through it.

He lacks sufficient "strategic depth"—if any of his heart, liver, or lungs are pierced, he's as good as dead.

"So, fighting head-on in humanoid form is far too costly. You need special armor. Here are several possibilities."

The serpent first introduced the fairy contract: these otherworldly beings can provide "fairy objects" and "illusory objects," such as lamps that never go out or dolls that dance on their own.

If you find the Fairy King, you can contract for "armor with zero weight" or "shields that automatically block enemy arrows"—illusory things like these.

"The drawback is that when you encounter certain anti-magic abilities—snap—the dream ends, and your armor vanishes."

The second option is more feasible: dwarves do have good goods—top-tier enchanted mithril armor, infused with enough special rune stones, has minimal vulnerability to magic, and is also light and resilient.

"The only problem is it's extremely expensive, and nearly impossible to find—some say someone once traded this set for an underground city from the 'Ancient Dwarf King.'"

To meet Li En's needs, you'd likely need a historically legendary "Divine Dwarf Armor"—it's almost impossible to obtain.

The third option made Li En somewhat interested.

"Elemental beings—you see them in the material plane as physical forms, but many are actually energy beings. Their flesh-and-blood, materialized bodies can be used to craft armor."

Using elemental crystals as armor provides exceptional durability and enhances resistance to corresponding elemental magic—perfect.

The drawback is they can be triggered and exploded by opposing elements—but this can be resolved by reinforcing the outer shell.

The problem is acquiring elemental crystals of sufficient purity—it's no simple task. Perhaps you'd need to hunt down an Elemental Lord.

The fourth option is actually an elf method—not the usual Sword Singer, but higher-tier ancient elf magic.

"Elemental magic was taught by ancient elves to orcs—but they held back something."

They contracted with Elemental Lords, "processing" their power, crystals, and even their very essence into various divine and magical artifacts.

If you could find an Ancient Elf King, he could craft a divine armor set customized for Li En.

"The fifth is even simpler: rely on yourself. You're a multi-headed dragon, right? Next time, find a sufficiently aged Crystal Dragon—its hardness far exceeds anything called 'diamond.'"

The sixth is giants—they can forge true divine armor.

The seventh is a race Li En had never heard of: an insectoid species whose biological matter can create elemental voids.

Li En was stunned—each option seemed achievable and remarkably effective.

But each one involved an outside race—he doubted he could handle any of them alone.

"Then… recommend one," Li En said, exhausted. He guessed the serpent had been waiting for him to say that.

"Ah, such a picky customer. I've got a bug package here—wonder if you're interested? It's a bit expensive."

(End of Chapter)