Trazyn the Infinite!

For most deities, stealing faith was far easier than cultivating it from scratch. The reason was simple. Getting a mortal to worship you was no easy task. Even if you displayed earth-shattering might before their very eyes, they might only think you were "impressive," without necessarily feeling much reverence at all. After all, there was more than one god in the world, and countless bards earned their bread by boasting of divine glory. Even the feeblest minor deity had stirring epic poems sung in their name. A deity who could lift a mountain was certainly great, but according to the songs, certain wizards could pull that off too. So was this god truly powerful, or weren't they? The vast majority of mortals had no way of knowing and had to rely on gut feelings to make comparisons. This made spreading a deity's faith extremely difficult. You had to give them time to understand your greatness, then get them to accept your dogma, and make them realize what benefits came with believing—and what misfortune awaited those who didn't. It was a painfully tedious process requiring vast amounts of patience and time. However, if the prospective worshiper already followed another god, things often became much simpler. All you had to do was defeat that deity, and those believers would immediately realize just how "great" you were. Many deities who championed violence operated this way. If you could win a fight, you were awesome, and there was no need to waste breath explaining things to mortals. The clearest example was Talos, the Lord of Storms; this god of ruin loved nothing more than demonstrating his majesty through thunder and lightning. Those who loved him truly loved him, because few gods who preached violence could best him in battle. Consequently, the Lord of Storms never lacked followers, nor did he ever need to deliberately preach his faith. Yet this approach also had severe limitations. For instance, the Lord of Storms was no match for the Lord of the Dawn, which kept his following in the minority. If violence was your primary divine domain and you still couldn't defeat a deity practicing the Light, why wouldn't people just worship the Light instead? That mindset was a terrible hindrance to expanding one's flock. None of that mattered to Anbaixiu, though. He had no intention of becoming a god; he just wanted to harvest a quick wave of faith. Therefore, the current situation was ideal. Who knew how much effort this redcap had spent tricking these kuo-toa into venerating him as a god? All Anbaixiu had to do was step up, slaughter the redcap, and skip the tedious missionary work, sending these kuo-toa straight to their knees in worship. It was a prize delivered right to his doorstep—he would be a fool to pass it up. As the redcap greedily drank in the kuo-toa's power of faith, Anbaixiu emerged upon the sand, cloaked in moonlight. A dark mantle draped over his shoulders, but his body was a brilliant, shining silver that gleamed radiantly beneath the moon. The prostrating kuo-toa were drawn to this flash of silver, turning their bulbous fish heads toward Anbaixiu with bewildered stares. With their prayers disrupted, the flow of faith cut out. The dwarf-like redcap let out a furious roar! "Bow before me, you stupid dead fish! I am your god! Even if the sky falls, you will finish your prayers!" Scolded roundly, the kuo-toa foolishly turned their heads back and resumed their prostration ceremony. Although the flow of faith resumed, the redcap did not let down his guard. He eyed Anbaixiu warily. Having arrived on this plane many years ago, the redcap had butchered countless different species, but Anbaixiu gave him a very strange feeling. He looked like a warrior clad in silver-white armor—the quintessential image of a paladin—except there were no divine emblems to be seen, leaving it unclear which deity's dogma this paladin served. There was another peculiar detail: from head to toe, this paladin exuded an aura of death and darkness. As an evil creature himself, the redcap was exceptionally sensitive to such an aura. Facing him felt like standing before a lich. An undead paladin? No, this was likely an oathbreaker! A so-called oathbreaker was a paladin who had violated their sacred vows, suffering a magical backlash as a result. Depending on the nature of the broken oath, the backlash took different forms. However, almost every oathbreaker underwent a drastic personality shift, their conduct and character degrading relentlessly into evil. What was an oathbreaker doing all the way out here?! Anbaixiu couldn't care less what the redcap was thinking and strode toward the altar, step by step. The redcap brandished his hooked, pointed blade and snarled loudly at Anbaixiu, "Back off! I don't care what you are—back away, or suffer the wrath of a god!" "The wrath of a god? What a coincidence. I was just thinking of slaying one." Anbaixiu didn't care in the slightest, his pace never slackening. "Who in the hells are you?!" the redcap shrieked. "Who am I?" Anbaixiu hesitated for a second, then extended his right hand. A dense aura of darkness welled from his palm, condensing into a magical scepter taller than a man. A dark green energy representing death swirled across its surface, looking poised to dye the very sky a different shade. Anbaixiu's presence instantly swelled, making him look far more like a deity than the hunched, stunted redcap. The staff in his hand was one Anbaixiu had used back during his adventuring days. Ever since his transformation into a lich, its potency had diminished considerably. Still, it didn't matter—looking the part was what counted. "Trazyn! Trazyn the Infinite! That is my name. Remember the title of the one who grants you death." With a flick of his staff, Anbaixiu unleashed an unseen force upon the redcap, hoisting him high into the air before hurling him into the distance. Telekinesis—a rather splendid long-range crowd control spell. Anbaixiu had used this exact trick against the elven Twilight Guard before, dragging the elf over a hundred meters straight to his feet. Now he simply swapped pulling for throwing, and it worked just as well. The redcap had no way to resist such monumental force. Thrown tens of meters away, he skipped across the sand over and over like a skimming stone. Seeing their god tossed so unceremoniously, the kuo-toa froze in shock. How could their god look so pathetic? Even so, they faithfully scrambled to their feet, leveled their fishbone-and-stone spears, and charged at Anbaixiu. Commendable piety, but as for their strength... Anbaixiu swept them all off their feet with a single Thunderwave, making sure to hold back his power so he wouldn't accidentally blast them to death. "Foolish mortals, you worship a false god and have been duped. Before a true deity, this fraud cannot even fight back." As he spoke, Anbaixiu aimed his staff at the redcap once more. This time, however, his Telekinesis failed. A brilliant crimson glow erupted from the redcap's body, neutralizing Anbaixiu's spell entirely. *Using the power of faith to cancel out my spell? Quite clever, but terribly wasteful.* It was very difficult for a mortal to convert faith into divine power. The redcap had likely employed some special technique from the Feywild to manipulate faith, granting himself short-lived magic immunity. Yet the consumption was staggering; Anbaixiu estimated he couldn't maintain it for more than thirty seconds. For a wizard, an opponent immune to magic for thirty seconds was lethal enough. Shrouded in bloody light, the redcap charged at Anbaixiu. Short though he was, as a monster bred for slaughter, his speed was terrifying. The iron boots on his feet seemed to grant a burst of acceleration. In a single dash, he crossed dozens of meters, closing the distance to Anbaixiu and sweeping his hooked blade toward the back of Anbaixiu's knees. The bizarre weapon gleamed with magical light, clearly bearing some special enchantment. Unable to identify it on such short notice, Anbaixiu was unwilling to rely solely on the durability of mithral to tank the hit. With a sharp *clash*, blades sprang from Anbaixiu's forearms, parrying the pointed hook. A burst of blazing fire exploded from the blade, and Anbaixiu instantly felt the metal in his grasp turn scorching hot. On top of that, an electric current erupted, coursing through Anbaixiu's body in a flash. "Heat Metal and lightning enchantment?" Anbaixiu was somewhat astonished. This blade was remarkable; it could actually carry two different magical effects at once. Against an ordinary opponent, the Heat Metal effect would scorch the flesh off their palms, forcing them to drop their weapons, while the intense current would pierce metal armor to send the person inside into violent convulsions. No wonder the redcap had dared to charge even after seeing him clad in full mithral—he had come prepared. Unfortunately for him, Anbaixiu was not a man wearing armor. His entire body was a machine. The Heat Metal effect couldn't make him drop his weapons; instead, it merely added a searing edge to his blades. As for the bursting electrical charge, it circulated harmlessly through Anbaixiu before trickling into his mana power reactor, replenishing a sliver of energy. Just as the redcap thought his strike had landed, Anbaixiu kicked him straight into the air. The kick was so fast that the redcap couldn't even react. Still airborne, before he could fathom why his enchanted blade had failed, he saw Anbaixiu appear right above him. *How could this oathbreaker be so fast?!* Paladins never focused on agility and speed, yet the oathbreaker before him moved like a high-tier ranger. Anbaixiu's twin blades flashed with dozens of arcs in midair. By the time his feet touched the sand again, the redcap had been reduced to a flurry of severed chunks raining from above. A spray of blood mingled with minced flesh cascaded down, staining a wide swath of the beach crimson. The capabilities of a legendary ranger combined with a dual-core mechanical chassis produced combat power far beyond Anbaixiu's expectations. And this feeling of tearing enemies apart by hand without having to grind and toil was truly delightful; no wonder every transmigrator wanted a cheat. It was just a pity that Anbaixiu had only recently tasted the perks of cheating. The preceding several hundred years had been nothing but blood, sweat, and bitter tears. Collecting his thoughts, Anbaixiu flicked his wrists, retracting the blades back into his forearms. He turned around smoothly to gaze at the kuo-toa, who had just scrambled back to their feet. He had dispatched the redcap in a dashing one-shot kill; surely these kuo-toa would fall prostrate in worship now, wouldn't they? Yet to Anbaixiu's utter bewilderment, the fish-headed creatures didn't even look back. The moment they saw the redcap get obliterated, they bolted straight toward the sea. *Damn it. Overdid it. Scared the wits out of these idiots.* "Trying to run?! Get back here!" Anbaixiu waved his staff again, hauling the fleeing kuo-toa back! Glaring at the fish-headed monsters, Anbaixiu barked, "Foolish creatures! I saved you from a false god! You should be on your knees, worshiping me, Trazyn the Infinite!" Yet the kuo-toa merely stared back with wide, innocent eyes, showing no sign of dropping to their knees as Anbaixiu had imagined. Anbaixiu scratched his chin. Why wasn't this working like he thought it would? Was he missing something? Just then, a raspy voice drifted over from the sea: "Give them some food. Besides displaying your martial might, you need to show your benevolence! These kuo-toa are stupid—whoever feeds them is who they follow." Anbaixiu looked toward the sound. On the previously calm ocean, a battered sailing ship had appeared out of nowhere.