Night fell. By candlelight, Isabel sorted through a mountain of experimental records.
Though it was undeniably precious knowledge, Isabel only wished she could forget it immediately, because what was recorded upon the pages was simply too horrifying.
She had once thought this lord lich was a rare, benevolent sort, but the records before her eyes laid bare a cruel truth:
A lich was, in the end, still a lich.
The undead had neither morals nor a bottom line; there was nothing they wouldn't do.
Isabel's hands trembled, yet she dared not stop, terrified that she, too, would end up as one of these experiment reports.
Fear rimmed her eyes with red, but Isabel had no one to confide in. Her brother, Raul, had already become an utterly devout follower of the lord lich, obeying his orders without question.
If Raul knew how she felt, he might very well give her a harsh scolding.
The only person Isabel could think of now was her teacher—the castle ghost who always appeared and vanished like a phantom.
Perhaps he alone could offer her a sliver of solace.
"Teacher, please save your poor student... I'm about to go mad."
Tears the size of beans fell, smudging the ink and staining the parchment.
Just as Isabel frantically dabbed at it, a flash of magical light flared, and the soiled parchment instantly returned to its original state.
"What are you crying for? If you're tired, go rest."
A puzzled voice drifted over. Isabel looked up in surprise and saw the black-haired youth with distinct features.
"Teacher..." Isabel managed in a tearful voice, finally unable to hold back, and burst into loud sobs.
Anbaixiu frowned as he looked at the fragile girl. It seemed he had overestimated human endurance.
Another ray of magical light shot from his fingertip and fell upon Isabel. The calming spell steadily soothed her distress.
Dabbing at her eyes in embarrassment, the young girl said to Anbaixiu, "I'm sorry, Teacher. I just... I couldn't hold it back."
Anbaixiu asked, "Your stress tolerance is still a bit lacking. You can't handle even this much workload?"
Isabel quickly said, "No, it's not the workload. It's these experiments... They're too cruel, too inhumane! Just looking at them terrifies me to my core."
"That's the reason?"
An expression of sudden realization dawned on Anbaixiu's face.
"Normal. That's a typical human reaction, given that elves look fairly similar to humans." Anbaixiu offered by way of comfort, "Maybe this will make you feel a bit better: a drow elf's favorite pastime is capturing surface elves and brutally torturing them to death to please their goddess, Lolth. They have a time-honored repertoire of tortures specifically for high elves. Knowing that, does it make you feel any better?"
Isabel's eyes went wide. A simple country girl like her truly hadn't known this; she had only heard that drow elves were swindlers and murderers whom one should never trust under normal circumstances.
"B-but... Even if drow elves are bad people, does that mean they can be treated like this?"
Anbaixiu didn't blame Isabel. Instead, he said with satisfaction, "Good question. You've finally reached the stage where you should ponder this."
"Teacher, what do you mean?" Isabel asked, bewildered.
"I mean that you've finally reached the point where you need to consider the definition of a test subject. This is the hallmark of an alchemist maturing.
"You feel these experiments are cruel because drow elves look human, which evokes your empathy."
Isabel hurriedly said, "No, it's not just that they look alike! They can think, they have feelings... Does a lich have the right to stand above them and treat them as test subjects?"
Anbaixiu shook his head. "Of course not."
"Then all of this..." Isabel was suddenly at a loss for words. Did her teacher also oppose the lord lich's experiments?
Anbaixiu continued, "It is not just that no hierarchy exists between the undead and the living; the same is true between humans and other species. The only thing that matters is who wins and who loses. The losers end up on operating tables and dining plates.
"Do you think the frogs and lizards that died by your hands were inherently inferior? Haven't you ever heard that classic story about the one who went on a hunger strike?"
Isabel shook her head.
Anbaixiu could only explain, "The story goes like this: there was once a noble human lady who loved eating meat, until one day she accidentally drank a Potion of Animal Speaking.
"She then discovered that animals possess intelligence and emotions. Before being slaughtered, a yak was speaking to its companions about its newborn calf, and upon seeing the butcher approach, lamented that its fate was just like its mother's.
"Hearing what the animals said, the noble lady felt utterly sickened. She resolved never to eat meat again and become a vegetarian."
Isabel asked, puzzled, "So... is that a good thing?"
Anbaixiu said, "The story isn't over yet. The noble lady struggled immensely to give up meat and endured for several years. Once she had truly become a vegetarian, she met a treant that could speak—an elder who was likewise intelligent and rich with emotion. He generously allowed the noble lady to understand the language of plants. As it turned out, vegetables and fruits feel pain too, and have their own families and friends."
Isabel: "..."
"Can you guess how that noble lady ended up?" Anbaixiu asked.
"She... starved to death?"
"No," Anbaixiu said with a smile. "She went back to eating meat."
Isabel: "..."
Anbaixiu patted her shoulder and continued, "Humans eat birds, birds eat bugs, bugs eat grass... We live in a world where every species possesses intelligence and emotion. The strong preying on the weak isn't about status, nor is it about morality; it's simply a matter of each fulfilling their own needs.
"The drow elves became test subjects not because they are inferior, nor because they are cruel and evil, but simply because they failed to escape.
"Be it a lich, a human, or the frog you sliced and mashed, we are all equal beings. We are merely adapting to our place in nature, or striving to ascend to a higher plane.
"O human, you are not the sole intelligent entity perched on high. If you wish to love all intelligent beings in this world equally, become a deity first. Only the gods elevated above are qualified to break free from the cycle of the strong preying on the weak. Only when you no longer need to eat are you qualified to consider how the eaten feels."
Isabel pondered for a while, then whispered, "B-but... couldn't we choose another way? For example, painless methods like euthanasia?"
Anbaixiu nodded in agreement. "That thought is correct. As an alchemist, what you should do is respect your test subjects.
"Never take it for granted that you hold the power over life and death. Do not conduct experiments when you have no certainty of success; do not waste data bought with lives; do not subject your test subjects to needless pain and torment; and above all, never sacrifice your lab rats for boring, meaningless experiments. This is a scholar's basic morality when conducting research.
"Yet at the same time, do not be shackled by the word 'slaughter.' Just as people need to eat meals and meat—in the eyes of a Shadow Druid, are steaming, boiling, and roasting not also forms of slaughter? In the eyes of a gnoll, disemboweling a human hardly counts as cruel. In the view of a twig blight, chopping down trees is an appalling atrocity. Drow elves tossing high elves to feed spiders is nothing more than their traditional rite of passage, their most devout sacrifice to the goddess Lolth."
This truth was something Anbaixiu had only come to understand after living in this world for many years. At the beginning, he had retained a mindset of human supremacy, looking down upon the world and feeling that, as a human, he bore a responsibility toward every species.
Later, he discovered that humans were merely one among all living beings. Even deities could be cruel, and Ao himself permitted Hell to exist. This was not his cozy old home, Earth.
On Earth, preaching that all things have spirits was just self-indulgent sentimentality. Here, waxing poetic about all things possessing spirits would draw mockery even from a goblin: 'Isn't that obvious?'
In the tone of someone who had seen it all, Anbaixiu said, "In short, when you are in different worlds, don't mechanically apply moral standards."
"Different worlds?" Isabel seemed to catch something strange in his words.
"That's not the point. The point is whether you can accept this cold reality. Like the noble lady in the story, you either figure it out and resume eating meat, or you starve yourself to death. If you can't wrap your head around it, then don't be an alchemist."
Hearing Anbaixiu's words, Isabel felt as though she understood, yet didn't quite.
Though she hadn't completely worked it out, the cruel experimental records before her no longer seemed quite so unbearable.
Seeing his employee back in working condition, Anbaixiu wasted no more time. Every time he took human form, it was because he had to go outside and meet people.
Today was no exception; the day for negotiations with the elves had arrived.
Through Anbaixiu's efforts, he had finally completed his research before this day. Though the manuscript was still being organized by Isabel, the experiment was already largely successful.
He now had plenty of confidence to meet those elves of the Silvermoon High Court.
Watching Isabel resume sorting through the documents, Anbaixiu hummed a cheerful little tune and left the castle.
As expected, a student trained by oneself was the easiest to hoodwink; a few words, and she went right back to working 996. Any other alchemist would have had their own standards, either finding ways to pull petty tricks or crying for a pay raise, annoying people to death.
That was precisely why Anbaixiu hadn't wanted those alchemists—they were hard to fool, and cost control was far too high.
Stepping out of the castle, he drifted into the night.
Anbaixiu flew toward the ruined City of Alchemy. The venue for this negotiation was right on those ruins.
Representing the dwarves of Salokma was Hand of the King Hoffman Ironfist, while the elven side was attended by the Elven Queen Catherine in person.
Truth be told, this spectacle was a bit too grand; Anbaixiu had originally assumed the elves would send someone like a prime minister at most.
As the mediator and the initiator of this negotiation, Anbaixiu was responsible for preparing the venue.
Anbaixiu kept it simple: choosing a relatively level clearing on the ruins, he cast a few Wall of Earth spells to raise a massive platform, tossed down a few tables and chairs, and called it a day, thoroughly leaning into a "minimalist" aesthetic.
With the venue set up, Anbaixiu conjured dozens of spectral flames, illuminating the area so it could be seen from afar.
Around the appointed time, a contingent composed of dwarves appeared not far away.
The delegation of desert dwarves had arrived.
Anbaixiu looked over: they were all elite dwarf iron guards, each encased in heavy steel armor with crystals embedded even over the eye slits.
Hoffman Ironfist walked in the center. Though short in stature, Anbaixiu did not dare look down on him, for he was clearly also a powerhouse of legendary rank.
In contrast, the dwarf beside Hoffman Ironfist appeared overly lively. The moment he caught sight of Anbaixiu, he waved and called out, "Brother, we finally meet in person!"
Heji Stone, floating without his feet touching the ground, looked half a head taller than the other dwarves. The vampire enthusiastically came forward to greet Anbaixiu the moment he saw him.
Anbaixiu was also quite fond of this friend who brought him massive business. The two hit it off immediately, without the slightest awkwardness of a first meeting.
Anbaixiu exchanged a few brief words with Hoffman Ironfist, then invited the dwarves to take their seats.
Now, they only had to wait for the elves to arrive, and the negotiation could begin.
Yet even after the appointed time had passed, the elves still hadn't appeared.
Hoffman Ironfist said displeasedly, "These arrogant elves... do they not even understand the basic courtesy of punctuality?"
Anbaixiu also sensed something amiss. The Queen's personal attendance meant they took this negotiation very seriously; how could they be late?
Anbaixiu opened his palm. Several Dice of Fate spun in his hand, resolving into an image.
The elven delegation was trapped within a sea of fire, surrounded by numerous ferocious monsters roaring fiercely.
"Are these... Hell demons?"
Chapter 120