Back in his castle, Anbaixiu was in high spirits as he slowly melted the gold coins into the Golden Throne bit by bit.
He had raked in three hundred thousand gold coins from Viscount Leitman. A great lord was indeed a great lord, far more generous than paupers like the Porcupine Knight.
Had they not needed to keep cooperating, Anbaixiu would have been sorely tempted to ransack his treasury outright.
Those three hundred thousand gold coins not only restored the Golden Throne to its pristine state, but elevated it even further, causing intricate patterns to surface.
They were not yet distinct enough, however, to identify what patterns they were.
Anbaixiu had a hunch that as long as he continued smelting gold into it, the Golden Throne would keep unlocking more abilities.
"Poor. Still too poor."
Lamenting his finances, Anbaixiu opened the Necrotic Codex and sent a message to the Rose of Decay: [Lady Rose, I just uncovered some news. That magical contract we spoke of before was likely devised by the Elven Queen. If the contract is breached, its effects will target everyone across the corresponding territory.]
The Rose of Decay replied shortly after: [I didn't expect you to be better informed than me. I was just about to share my own intelligence with you. Beyond the details of the magical contract, I also caught wind that the elves are mass-equipping weapons capable of disrupting spell structures. Ordinary defensive magic will be utterly countered.]
[Tiga Ultraman: Mass-equipping? How could enchanted weapons of that tier possibly be mass-equipped?]
Anbaixiu was astonished to see the Rose of Decay's message.
This defied common sense; even enchantment had to obey basic principles. It wasn't as though he had never seen anti-magic weapons before. Some weapons could not only dispel magical effects, but on a hit, render the target entirely unable to cast any spells for a duration. But such true mage-slaying weapons were exceedingly rare, because crafting them required "sussur tree bark," unique to the Underdark.
The sussur tree was a peculiar plant that naturally generated an Antimagic Field. Plucking a single sussur blossom would suppress all spells within a radius of several meters. Yet once removed from the Underdark, sussur blossoms would wither completely. Only by stripping a small piece of the most precious bark from the tree could it be brought out of the Underdark and used to forge sussur-series weaponry.
And across the entire Underdark, one might not find even a handful of mature sussur trees. Only once every century or so could a piece of sussur tree bark suitable for crafting anti-magic weapons grow.
Other weapons capable of disrupting magic worked on similar principles: their materials were difficult to find, and few circulated across the continent.
Anbaixiu had assumed that even with the elven race's ancient history and immense wealth, amassing a hundred or so anti-magic weapons over the years would already be an impressive feat. But for the Rose of Decay to say they were mass-equipping them—the materials alone posed an insurmountable obstacle, to say nothing of finding enough alchemists to forge so many anti-magic armaments.
These were not assembly-line industrial products. The metallic grain of every blade differed slightly, and during enchantment, the magic circle's structure had to be adjusted according to those minute variations; one could not simply cast a mold and stamp them out. These were not disposable undead skeletons that couldn't even defeat an ordinary peasant, but weapons imbued with magical effects.
Even an enchantment that added a mere touch of sharpness could multiply a weapon's price four- or fivefold.
Magic crafters, materials, and time—these three factors strictly capped the supply of enchanted weapons.
If an endless supply of anti-magic arrows truly existed, rangers would reign supreme over the world, and wizards wouldn't have the audacity to strut around calling themselves spell lords.
Yet the Rose of Decay replied with utter certainty: [My intelligence is not mistaken. The Silvermoon High Court has indeed mastered a technique for mass-producing anti-magic weapons, which also ties into their embargo on magical materials over recent years. While the exact details remain unclear, it is certain that all of this stems from the Elven Queen's orders.]
Stroking his chin, Anbaixiu sank into thought. Only after a long silence did he reply: [As far as I know, that Elven Queen started as a legendary ranger and later multiclassed into wizard. Lady Rose, do you think it is possible she has achieved legendary advancement a second time?]
[Rose of Decay: A second legendary advancement? The odds of such a thing are smaller than a mortal ascending to godhood. It sounds more unreal than a myth.]
Anbaixiu did not argue. Had he not received a deity's boon himself, he would never have achieved a second legendary advancement either. But precisely because he had experienced such a miracle, who was to say the Elven Queen hadn't? The elven pantheon was notoriously protective of their own, far more biased than the Lord of the Dawn.
Just look at the elven traits: beauty, intellect, longevity, immunity to most mental manipulation, near-immunity to disease, innate mana affinity, innate mastery of archery... Combined, these blessings were enough to make humans green with envy to the point of descending into hell.
As for whether the Elven Queen could become a legendary wizard after already being a legendary ranger... Anbaixiu felt the probability was quite high. Perhaps she had obtained some preposterous legendary boon that enabled the elven race to begin mass-equipping anti-magic weapons.
The more he pondered it, the more plausible it seemed. Anbaixiu messaged the Rose of Decay: [Once you eliminate the impossible, I believe this guess comes closest to reality. Regardless of whether this Elven Queen achieved a second legendary advancement, since this matter involves her, we must find a way to deal with it.]
Seeing Anbaixiu's words, the Rose of Decay felt a strange prickle in her mind. How had this suddenly turned into "we" needing to find a way?
Previously, she had merely done Anbaixiu a favor by scouting out information for him. The undead of the Underdark had no quarrel with the surface elves, so there was no reason to pit her kingdom against the elven race, was there?
*Could he really view me as family? It seems he actually does—after all, he even sent over his phylactery.*
The Rose of Decay knitted her brows, sensing that something was amiss.
Her intention had clearly been to bind Anbaixiu through emotional attachment and coax him to the Underdark to work for her. How had it turned out that, while affection had indeed been cultivated, she was the one constantly resolving troubles on his behalf?
Hesitating, the Rose of Decay did not immediately reply to Anbaixiu. Instead, she sent a message to the bone dragon young lady: [Let me ask you a question. Back when Gareth fell in love with you, what did he do for you?]
[Pale Little Skeleton: Oh my, big sister, why are you asking this out of the blue?]
[Rose of Decay: Just curious. I want to learn a bit.]
[Pale Little Skeleton: He didn't do anything at all! What could a Headless Horseman hunted to his wit's end by Ryan possibly do? It was always me helping him shake off his pursuers, bringing him back to the Dragon Tomb, modifying his body, forging his armor, helping him...]
The bone dragon young lady rattled off everything she had done for Gareth like she was counting family heirlooms. From the sound of it, Gareth was utterly living off her; the bone dragon young lady had been doing all the giving.
The Rose of Decay felt increasingly bewildered as she read on. She asked her best friend: [What is the point of giving so unconditionally?]
[Pale Little Skeleton: Affection is meant to be given freely! Calculating such things means it isn't true love, isn't that right? That's how human novels depict it. Besides, once someone truly cares about you, sooner or later you'll feel how wonderful they are to you.]
The Rose of Decay furrowed her brow again. *That does sound somewhat reasonable.*
Still, standing against the entire Silvermoon High Court for his sake... that price seemed a bit...
As she wavered, Anbaixiu sent another message: [Lady Rose, you had best stop investigating news about the Silvermoon High Court. I don't want the elves suspecting you.]
[Rose of Decay: But you just said we should deal with it together.]
[Tiga Ultraman: What I meant was, if I end up backed into a corner, I hope you'll let me hide out in the Underdark for a few years. On my own, there's no way I can fight the entire Silvermoon High Court. I only want to borrow the desert dwarves' strength to teach those elves a lesson and avenge my grudge against them. Once the desert dwarves prove no match for the elves, I'll definitely take flight, and you are my fallback route.]
The finger with which the Rose of Decay wrote hovered in midair, lingering without a reply for a long time.
Was this... the "true care" the bone dragon young lady had spoken of?
After remaining silent for a long moment, the Rose of Decay sent Anbaixiu a response: [Very well. You are welcome anytime.]
Closing the Necrotic Codex, the Rose of Decay pressed a hand against her exquisitely curved bosom and let out a helpless sigh. "Sure enough, the undead have no hearts."
Yet right after speaking, the Rose of Decay turned to the maidservant attending her and commanded, "Go to the library and bring me every book on vampires."
The Rose of Decay swore she would study the matter thoroughly. They were all heartless undead—why was it that vampires could preserve their emotions, and have feelings so intense that they could even lust after their food?
Having received the Rose of Decay's reply, Anbaixiu felt considerably more at ease.
From the start, he had never intended to drag the Rose of Decay into a war with the elves. That was unrealistic and pointless.
Anbaixiu was a war broker; causing a few headaches for the elves was plenty. Why would he send a prime client into a meat grinder? Every coin of wealth the Rose of Decay lost was Anbaixiu's future revenue!
The Elven Queen's second legendary advancement, which enabled the elven race to mass-equip anti-magic weaponry—that wasn't Anbaixiu's problem to solve. The ones who truly needed to worry about it were the desert dwarves.
Without hesitation, Anbaixiu promptly messaged Heji Stone: [Senior, I have a major secret concerning the elven race. For just two million gold coins, ask the desert dwarves if they're interested. I guarantee it is crucial intelligence capable of deciding the outcome of the war.]
[Dislikes Humans: No problem. What's two million? So long as the intelligence is useful, I agree right now.]
Seeing the instant reply, Anbaixiu instead knitted his brows.
Something was off. Why had this vampire suddenly become so generous? The top-tier gargoyles he had promised previously hadn't even been delivered yet.
Anbaixiu's sixth sense regarding money rivaled the bone dragon young lady's intuition for two-timing men.
Probing further, Anbaixiu sent another message: [I did say two million gold coins. In cash, mind you.]
[Dislikes Humans: Two million is two million. Don't tell me you're trying to hike the price at the last second. Out with it—what intelligence is it? I won't short you a single gold coin.]
This vampire was deeply suspicious.
Chapter 102