The Weave was nothing new.
When Ao created the world, all things contained primal mana, the most fundamental essence of magical power.
Harnessing this magical power was extraordinarily difficult. Even individuals with exceptional talent could easily be disrupted by the chaotic, turbulent magical currents when casting spells—to the point where you might try to light a smoke for yourself, only to end up frozen into an icicle.
For the vast majority of ordinary people, magic was entirely out of reach.
Consequently, for a very long time, magic was something only the gods could cast.
After the first Goddess of Magic emerged, this benevolent goddess created the Weave so that mortals too could cast spells.
The Weave regulated magical power and vastly lowered the barrier to entry, allowing mortals to wield magic without uncontrollable consequences from chaotic magical backlash.
From that moment onward, magical civilization began to develop at a breakneck pace.
Later, however, because this goddess was too merciful, she granted access privileges over the Weave to ambitious mortals.
Then, a genius mage pulled off a massive stunt, attempting to completely seize the Goddess of Magic's control over the Weave and make himself the new God of Magic.
As a result, the Weave shattered.
The former Goddess of Magic died instantly, and the mortal who presumed to attain godhood perished completely the moment the Weave collapsed. Perhaps in that final second before death, he might have been the God of Magic for the briefest sliver of time, but alas, it was far too fleeting.
A classic tale: mortals trying to become gods, ultimately destroying themselves and everyone around them.
One could say ninety-nine percent of the great cataclysms in this world happened because some mortal wanted to achieve godhood.
However, this was not the part of history Anbaixiu was looking for.
Following the destruction of the Weave, the brilliant magical civilization suffered a devastating blow. Eventually, a new Goddess of Magic was born from chaos and repaired the Weave.
The second Goddess of Magic learned from her predecessor's mistakes. From then on, mortals were stripped of higher-tier access to the Weave, lest some lunatic try to blow it up a second time.
At the height of magical civilization, Wish spells were hardly rare. Those arrogant, conceited mages reshaped the world on a whim; do it enough times, and you start believing you are equal to the gods.
Once the new Weave was established, all mages were cast down to the mortal realm. Spellcasting privileges were capped, and many legendary spells vanished entirely, never to be cast again.
Returning to the point at hand, the function of the Weave was to make wild, uncontrollable magical power wieldable by mortals.
Mana addiction among the elves was a physiological malady: the rate at which their bodies naturally absorbed mana could not keep pace with the rate at which it dissipated, forcing them to rely on elixirs to compensate. But the deficit would only grow wider until no amount of potions could sustain it, leaving them withered into dried husks.
Before death, they would also endure immense psychological torment, rapidly losing their sanity.
Yet the question remained: even if an elf simply lay in bed, their mana was continuously drained. Where exactly did that vanished mana go?
If it dissipated directly into the air, that meant mana addiction was an abnormal form of magical instability—a state of runaway mana.
And the mechanics of the Weave were precisely what could be applied to these elves.
As long as one could help the elves stabilize their runaway mana, the worsening progression of the addiction could be solved. With modest supplements of magical power, they would be able to maintain normal lives.
Though this was merely Anbaixiu's deduction, he knew he was not mistaken.
Yet while the Weave was commonplace—something every spellcaster was familiar with—it remained profoundly mysterious. Even though Anbaixiu was a legendary mage who had pumped all his attribute points into intelligence, he only knew that such a thing existed; he did not understand the underlying principles of the Weave.
After the first Goddess of Magic was doomed by the spellcaster she favored, the second Goddess of Magic had destroyed all literature concerning the Weave and strictly forbade any research into it. Mortals could only use the Weave under her supervision, and any mortal who dared covet authority over it would face her divine retribution.
Therefore, even though Anbaixiu had no intention of seizing control of the Weave and merely sought to save the elves, the good-aligned Goddess of Magic would, out of respect for the elven pantheon, likely remain indifferent, offering no help whatsoever.
Unable to obtain information about the Weave from the Goddess of Magic, Anbaixiu had no choice but to turn to another deity for help.
The Goddess of Darkness, Shar, was one of the two goddesses born of primal chaos. By rights, she should have been among the most powerful and ancient of deities, but she had been defeated and grievously wounded in the war against her twin sister, the moon goddess Selûne.
This deity, who had once represented primal darkness, could not even preserve her own temples. Across every kingdom on the continent, worshippers of the goddess Shar were rarely heard of anymore.
Perhaps in some forgotten corners across the seas, scraps of faith in Shar lingered on. Regardless, this deity had grown weak in the extreme, unable to shield even her own followers.
Rumor had it that to regain her power, Shar had set her sights on the Goddess of Magic.
The great cataclysm of the first shattering of the Weave had allowed Shar to claim some of its fragments. She then began researching them in a bid to usurp the Goddess of Magic's power.
If one looked deeper into the matter, it was even tinged with family tragedy.
For the first Goddess of Magic had been born of the war against Selûne. According to the epics of the gods, Selûne tore away a piece of her own flesh and hurled it as a weapon at Shar, wounding her severely. The moon goddess's flesh absorbed Shar's power, and from that union, the first Goddess of Magic was born.
By that logic, the Goddess of Magic was practically the daughter of the twin sisters. Naturally powerful from inception, once she took dominion over the concept of magic itself, her might stood almost above all other gods.
What Shar craved above all else was the power of the Goddess of Magic. If she could seize that power, vengeance would be effortless. In short, aside from the Goddess of Magic herself, only Shar held any insight into the Weave.
The dust-covered tome in Anbaixiu's hand was a record of research into the worship of the Goddess of Darkness.
Though the gods were mighty and enigmatic, studying them had always been a premier discipline among mortals. This study on the faith of the Goddess of Darkness recorded a special sacrificial ritual that could establish communication with her, allowing her to resolve the questions of her followers.
It was just that the offering required was rather peculiar.
Every deity demanded a distinct ritual. Loviatar required her followers to inflict self-harm or torture others, where blood and agony made the finest offerings. For the Lord of the Dawn, the best tribute was the vanquishing of evil. The archdukes of Hell favored souls most of all, particularly those tortured to the point of madness.
As for Shar, her requirement was unique: anything associated with the light.
Shar harbored a deep, bone-deep hatred for her sister Selûne, leaving her desperate to destroy anything tied to her. The moon goddess and the Lord of the Dawn were staunch allies, having formed an alliance centered around the light alongside numerous other deities.
As a result, Shar bore a grudge against the Lord of the Dawn as well. The finest offering, naturally, was the corruption of a follower of the light. If Anbaixiu could bring a fallen worshipper of the light before Shar, she would certainly not be stingy with her rewards.
Had those paladins still been around, Anbaixiu would have gladly tried corrupting these followers of the Lord of the Dawn to turn them into oathbreakers. In high spirits, Shar might well have revealed the secrets of the Weave directly to him. For now, however, he had to substitute another offering.
Anbaixiu pried a battered helmet from the mouth of the mercury soul puppet. It was a replica artifact from the Ryan Empire. Though a replica, the divine power of light within it was genuine. The mercury soul puppet had gnawed on it for days and managed to corrode less than half. Now was the perfect time to put the scrap to good use.
Anbaixiu began arranging the sacrificial ritual to Shar inside the castle.
Inscribing the magical circle was not difficult, nor were the procedural details complicated. It was so simple that it struck Anbaixiu as almost lacking solemnity. Likely, Shar understood that her worship had declined; had the sacrificial demands remained stringent, even fewer mortals would have turned to her.
The vast majority of mortals were quite choosy when it came to selecting a faith.
Following the instructions in the book, Anbaixiu prepared the ritual and placed the battered helmet, which still retained its divine power of light, upon the altar.
"Under the boundless, pitch-black night sky, we gather here to offer our devotion to the Mistress of the Night. You are the weaver of shadows, sovereign of the dark. Under your mantle, all things find concealment and rebirth..."
Anbaixiu recited the prayer exalting the Goddess of Darkness with care. His demeanor was proper, though hardly devout; after all, he worshipped no deity. Toward these aloof gods, he maintained basic respect rather than reverent adoration.
With the prayer concluded, Anbaixiu ignited a gloomy flame using his mana, setting the helmet on the altar alight.
Dark magic and divine light clashed, hissing and crackling violently.
Anbaixiu's power far exceeded that of the mercury soul puppet, and he swiftly eroded most of the divine light clinging to the helmet. If the replica artifact might have still been usable after repairs before, it was now thoroughly defiled, beyond all hope of restoration.
Desecrate the light; pay homage to the night.
With the ritual completed, a thick plume of black smoke surged from the altar, coalescing into a shadowy figure nearly ten meters tall.
The figure wore a cloak of black feathers that shed constantly, each feather drifting downward only to slowly dissipate into nothingness before ever touching the ground. Shadows veiled her face, revealing only the graceful silhouette of a woman beneath the cloak.
Shar opened her mouth, her voice melodic yet tinged with a mournful chill.
"Mortal, your offering pleases me. Yet you are not of my flock. Speak: what is it you seek in exchange?"
Anbaixiu reined in his soul power as much as possible, not daring to listen too closely to Shar's voice.
The goddess had descended in the aspect of the Night Singer. Her voice was like an endless night, carrying lethal temptation. Without caution, one could easily be ensnared by its cadence, consumed entirely by the power of the dark, and reduced to her fanatic disciple.
"Honored Goddess of the Night, offering this defiled divine light as tribute, I seek knowledge concerning the Weave."
"Oh? Bold mortal, do you wish to re-enact the ruin of old?"
Anbaixiu did not answer the question directly. Instead, he said to Shar, "If the ruin of the Weave is destined by fate, it will come to pass regardless of what I choose. Honored Goddess, will you accept this trade?"
Shar replied, "You should know well the weight of the Weave's secrets. A mere replica of an artifact falls far short."
"Then tell me, Goddess, what price must be paid to obtain this knowledge?"
"Become my chosen. How does that sound?" Shar asked.
Anbaixiu fell silent. What was wrong with these goddesses, lining up one after another to make him their chosen?
Shar had fallen on hard times, sure, but surely she wasn't so desperate as to drag any passing legend into her fold?
Though he was a lich and inherently aligned with evil, neither pain nor darkness truly suited him. The gods could not possibly fail to discern the path he had chosen; that they were rushing to claim him one after another gave Anbaixiu an uneasy feeling.
"What, are you unwilling to accept the favor of the night?" Shar pressed.
"My apologies, but I am faithless."
Anbaixiu's refusal was resolute. Even if Shar withheld the secrets of the Weave, he would not yield on this point.
Faith was no trifling matter. Once you pledged your faith to a deity, you effectively surrendered the authority to judge your soul to them. Ordinary folk might gladly trade decades of mortal life for divine protection, but as a lich, Anbaixiu saw no reason to wager his eternal existence on such things.
Perhaps discerning the finality in Anbaixiu's stance, Shar did not press the matter further. Instead, she offered an alternative.
"If you are unwilling to become my chosen, then bringing another legend to accept my faith will suffice. Alternatively, cause three paladins to break their oaths and fall, and the condition shall be met."
Anbaixiu sighed. "Honored Goddess of the Night, I require knowledge of the Weave for an urgent undertaking. Even if I agree to these conditions, I fear time will not permit it."
"No matter. I can grant you what you desire beforehand, provided you fulfill the pact within ten years."
Anbaixiu had not expected Shar to concede another step. Just as he felt something was amiss and tried to ponder it further, Shar spoke again: "If you seek to divine your future, I advise you to save your strength. When it comes to a future entangling the gods, you lack the standing to see clearly."
Shar's words silenced Anbaixiu once more.
Indeed, Anbaixiu had been unable to see even Loviatar's future; last time, he had merely bluffed to intimidate the Goddess of Pain. Though Shar had fallen from grace, her divine rank far exceeded Loviatar's, so naturally, Anbaixiu could not perceive any future tied to her.
Yet for Shar to emphasize this so deliberately made it obvious she believed the pact worked in her favor.
So, was it worth the gamble?
Anbaixiu hesitated for a moment, then spoke with resolve: "Honored Goddess, I accept your terms."
Chapter 116