Depressing because it rubbed his nose in the fact that he simply had nothing more pressing to think about. He had not sunk so low that assassins threatened him; rather he bad risen so high that they were a welcome relief from boredom. You must understand that he was unquestionably and indisputably the mightiest Warlock the world had ever known; for twice ten thousand years he had owned it. It was barely within the realm of conceivability that another as mighty as he could simultaneously exist, but they could no more have escaped each other’s notice than two brontosaurs in the same pond. There had never been such a one. Further, he was invulnerable. Not just physically, although that was nice of course, but really. A warlock-any sorcerer-can only be truly destroyed by a spell using his name, and it had been thrice five thousand years since the last living being who knew the Warlock’s name had gone down to the final death. Since that time he had induced certain subtle mutations in the human race, so that no man now living could have pronounced his name had they known it.
What do You think about Time Travelers Strictly Cash?
