Fate was ever fond of playing practical jokes.
Not long ago, Anbaixiu had been pondering how many elves he would need to slaughter on the battlefield to show them the true meaning of a lich's wrath. Now, he found himself contemplating how to quell this war instead. Others might find such a twist amusing, but for Anbaixiu, it triggered pure soul-deep stress.
Ah, fate, you are ever thus.
Just when you have your life neatly planned out, an unforeseen storm surges into your face, leaving you dazed and disoriented. And when you finally clutch at a lifesaving straw, you discover a fishhook hidden inside... Remembering his past, Anbaixiu felt a chill whistling through his bones, cooling him to the very marrow.
Even so, Anbaixiu knew full well that his decision was not wrong.
Ever since mastering the power of divination, his premonitions had been remarkably accurate. Even when he voluntarily sealed the ability away, he had still retained a vague foresight of future events. It was a passive effect, something he couldn't completely rid himself of.
Now his divination powers had staged a full-blown resurgence, becoming Anbaixiu's legendary boon. The moment he concentrated his thoughts even slightly, those premonitions became overwhelmingly intense, impossible to ignore.
Thus, Anbaixiu's desire to negotiate with the elves was no act of recklessness. He had already foreseen that this choice could achieve his goal.
"Later on, I'll have to find a deity to worship and have them help me seal this divination power again."
Anbaixiu muttered about this far-fetched possibility as he entered his private demiplane.
The elves trapped in the cell remained in a state of suspended time. The little girl named Naya and Cicero were still frozen in the midst of their argument.
When Anbaixiu dispelled the time stop, neither noticed his presence right away.
"I never should have agreed to let an underage elf join the Twilight Guard, prodigy or not!" Cicero barked furiously.
Though Naya knew she had botched things, she protested with great grievance, "I swear to the gods, I really didn't say anything! That lich must have used some spell to read my memories! It had to be!"
Standing outside the cell, Anbaixiu chuckled merrily. "I don't yet have the skill to unravel a blessing from the elven gods. That said, exaggerating an enemy's prowess certainly eases one's guilt, so I understand completely. Still, wouldn't speaking like that verge on blasphemy?"
Hearing Anbaixiu's voice, every elf jumped in fright.
No one had been standing there a moment ago. What spell had this lich used to appear without the slightest warning?
Anbaixiu's words also drained the color from the young elf girl's face. Was she truly blaspheming the gods?
The moment Cicero saw Naya's expression, his previous anger vanished. He offered comforting words, "Pay no heed to this lich's nonsense. He is merely trying to agitate your mind. The gods will not blame us for an unintentional slip."
Yet even after offering comfort, Cicero felt profoundly tense.
The lich before him was the most troublesome adversary he had ever encountered. It wasn't merely his formidable strength, but his tongue, capable of talking the dead back to life and the living into suicide.
A casual remark from him could breach someone's mental defenses. He could read a person's inner thoughts from the faintest twitch of expression. To him, the elven blessing against mental manipulation was practically non-existent.
Anbaixiu simply stood there in silence, his human face beaming warmly as he stared at Cicero.
After a few seconds, Cicero felt his resolve wavering. He yelled, "Lich, what do you want?! Kill us if you have the guts!"
"Heh, the same old routine. What good does killing you and sending your souls to the elven divine realm do me?"
Anbaixiu stepped into the cell, strolling leisurely through the elves until he stood before Cicero. With a gentle smile, he said, "Rest assured, I didn't come today to torture you or pry for information. What I needed to know, I already know full well. I'm only here today to inform you that in a few days, you will be sent to the desert. Please prepare yourselves. At least wait until the transaction is complete before considering suicide. I promise you, as long as you don't die on my grounds, I won't desecrate your corpses. How about it?"
Before Cicero could speak, Naya gasped, "What do you mean? What transaction are you talking about?!"
Cicero bellowed, "Naya, shut up!"
"But..." The young elf girl flushed with anxiety, yet under Cicero's furious glare, she held her tongue, glaring at Anbaixiu with resentful eyes.
Anbaixiu's smile remained intact. "Calm down. I said I'm not here to torture you, so why be so tense? You must know that the elves aren't the only ones eyeing this land. The desert dwarves have been battered into retreat by the Ryan Empire and are on the verge of collapse. This territory is the strategic buffer they need to fall back into.
"As for the rights of an indigenous resident like me, neither the elves nor the dwarves would ever care. The strong prey on the weak; I'm not complaining. I'm just telling you that the desert dwarves paid good money to buy you for interrogation. And I have already agreed. I'm merely notifying you in advance so you don't get overly emotional during the handover.
"I hear elves can die of a broken heart? You elves really are a hassle. Other captives just need a draught of sleeping potion, but you require extra care, forcing me to come and offer a friendly reminder. So, please maintain a healthy state of mind."
Anbaixiu's words proved too much for Cicero to bear. Agitated, he snapped, "You sold us to those wind-eroded rocks?!"
Anbaixiu quickly cautioned, "Whoa, with a racial slur like that, you'd better watch your mouth when the time comes. Otherwise, the dwarves certainly won't mind teaching you a lesson."
Perhaps due to their harsh environment, desert dwarves were shorter than dwarves elsewhere; after all, a lower center of gravity made it easier to anchor oneself against raging sandstorms. Their skin was also rougher than other dwarves', scarred by wind and sand until it indeed resembled wind-carved stone.
Naturally, desert dwarves despised the moniker, considering it an outright insult to their appearance. Cicero, however, scoffed, "Such an artistic description. If they don't like it, I can just call them ugly runts to their faces."
Anbaixiu had no intention of advocating for the dwarves' naming rights. He simply stared at Cicero until the elf grew squirmy and uncomfortable.
"All right, changing the subject, hurling verbal abuse, venting extreme emotions... none of those tricks work on me, so there's no need to mask the unease in your heart. You're terrified that once sent to the desert, the dwarves will use you to gain an advantage in the war. The guilt and impotent fury demand an outlet, which is why people often act foolish when desperate..."
Anbaixiu unhurriedly dissected Cicero's behavior. The agony of having his raw wounds exposed drove Cicero past his limit. "What in the world do you want? Lich, stop wasting everyone's time! You definitely didn't come just to tell us we've been sold!"
"Haha, back to your senses at last. That's more like it. Only someone who can still think at a time like this is qualified to negotiate." Anbaixiu dropped his playful expression, addressing Cicero with utmost gravity. "What I want is simple: have the elves pay to buy you back. What do you think? That way, elven intelligence won't be compromised, will it?"
Cicero blurted out heatedly, "Elves do not bow to threats!" Yet for reasons unknown, upon hearing Anbaixiu's suggestion, his heart leaped violently.
Not just his, but every other elf's as well.
Indeed, if they were ransomed back, the elven intelligence wouldn't be leaked, and they could return home alive.
As for the secrets Anbaixiu had already deduced... well, they chose not to dwell on that detail for now.
Though elves were inherently graceful and wise, their willpower fell quite short when compared to the fanatics of the Ryan Empire. At the very least, they feared death.
Hearing Cicero's protest, Anbaixiu didn't argue. He stepped past him and addressed the other elves, "Whether this transaction succeeds or not, it represents an opportunity to talk. In truth, I bear no grudge against your people. Think about it: I am the native inhabitant here, the victim of invasion. An invasion by the desert dwarves is no different to me than an invasion by elves, except the dwarves aren't nearly as arrogant as you.
"And now, if you are willing to set aside your pride and talk with me, I would gladly place you on equal footing with the dwarves. That would also benefit your elven strategic goals. Not just for yourselves, but for the other Twilight Guards.
"You don't honestly think other Twilight Guards would fare any differently if they crossed paths with me, do you?"
Anbaixiu framed himself as the victim, analyzed things from the elven perspective, and brought up the safety of other elves. This series of rhetorical maneuvers left the captives in stunned silence; even Cicero made no further rebuttal.
His reasoning sounded valid, yet simultaneously hollow.
Still, people often didn't care about right and wrong; they merely needed a way out.
By invoking the broader interests of the elven race, he provided a stepping stone for their pride, allowing them to step down gracefully.
Being the youngest, Naya was the first to be swayed by Anbaixiu's rhetoric.
She whispered to Cicero, "Cicero, maybe... maybe he's right. We have to consider the overall strategy of our people. If we're handed over to the desert, disaster will strike."
The other silent elves spoke up one after another. Given a choice, being ransomed was naturally far better. Being taken prisoner was a disgrace, but as long as they lived, there would always be a chance to wash away the shame.
Looking around at his kin, Cicero knew that refusing would be pointless. This lich understood how to manipulate hearts all too well. The Twilight Guards' fighting spirit had already crumbled. If he refused to serve as the messenger, someone else would gladly take the role, and the elven leadership would undoubtedly consider Anbaixiu's proposal.
The ultimate outcome would likely see the dwarves and elves sitting at the same negotiating table, bidding against each other while this lich made a handsome fortune.
From the moment they were captured, everything had fallen into this lich's calculations.
Cicero said with helpless resignation, "Very well. If you release me, I will deliver your message."
Though he agreed outwardly, Cicero resolved that once free, he would thoroughly report how terrifying this lich was, ensuring his kin remained on high alert and avoided being completely led by the nose during the upcoming negotiations. Recalling their previous skirmish, Cicero felt there were many details worth scrutinizing. If recorded in full and delivered to the elders, they might analyze a great deal from it.
Anbaixiu smiled faintly. "What are you talking about? I never said I was letting you go."
Amidst the elves' astonished stares, Anbaixiu turned to Naya. "Little girl, you heard what I said just now. Go back and relay it to your kin."
Hearing this, Cicero frantically tried to object. "Wait! Naya... she's—"
Anbaixiu knitted his brows and sneered, "Minors first, ladies first. Is there anything wrong with that? Surely not... surely the Twilight Guard squad leader isn't planning to run off himself while leaving a child behind as a captive?"
At those words, all the elves couldn't help casting glances at Cicero.
Cicero gritted his teeth, his fists clenching tight as regret washed over him for agreeing in the first place.
A child like Naya would end up being sold by this lich and helping him count the coins!
Chapter 110