Where Does Fate Truly Point?

Fate did not permit questioning. Therefore, once you drew upon this power, whatever the outcome, you had to accept it. You could not ask a second time, much less pry for further details. That was respect for fate. Anbaixiu had invoked the power of fate to let a withered leaf guide his way. If that leaf settled on a person, then that person was the answer. He could not perform a second divination to ask how this man was connected to the artifact. "Are you dissatisfied with the answer you were given? Didn't I already tell you everything I could? Do you doubt me?" That was roughly how it worked. In any case, dare to divine the same matter twice, and fate would inevitably hand you an answer you would never forget for the rest of your life. And so, Anbaixiu did not hesitate. He chose the simplest, most direct approach: seize him. "Captain, cover me here. I'll go snatch him." Casting Greater Invisibility on himself, Anbaixiu crept toward the center of the grounds. At this very moment, Mengge Grayriver was standing in the square, personally overseeing the slaves at work. His luck lately had been downright abysmal. A perfectly planned ambush had turned into total annihilation, and then, cornered by Ariel's threats, he had been forced to alter his stance, nearly incurring the king's wrath. Now, he had no choice but to come in person to supervise the Raging Tide Legion's war preparations. The storm priests of the Raging Tide Legion needed to pray atop a specially crafted magic circle, branding divine power onto their bodies so that they could bypass preparation times and unleash their spells directly in battle. This magic circle required a tremendous amount of space, which made it impossible to set up aboard a ship. Furthermore, the circle was single-use; achieving the spell-storing effect each time required constructing it anew. With so many constraints, the resulting magic was terrifyingly potent—powerful enough to lay waste to an entire city in a single strike. It was the Raging Tide Kingdom's trump card, and Mengge Grayriver dared not slacken for a second. Mengge Grayriver brushed away the withered leaf that had suddenly landed on his head and roared, "Put your backs into it, you wretched curs! Don't even think of slacking off!" The overseers cracked their whips with vigor, lashing the slaves to drive them faster. Blood splattered and wails arose, and efficiency seemed to improve slightly. Just as Mengge Grayriver nodded in satisfaction, a thunderous roar boomed across the sky. Everyone involuntarily looked up, only to see a massive fireball explode into a rain of fire that drifted slowly downward. "What is that? A Fireball? Doesn't look like one." While Mengge Grayriver was still wondering who would fling a spell into the open sky, an immense force slammed into his waist as though intent on shattering his spine. Caught completely unprepared, Mengge tumbled to the right. Before he could cry out, a spatial portal materialized before him, and he plunged headfirst into it. Before the portal snapped shut, Mengge Grayriver caught sight of a man identical to himself standing at the threshold, offering him a smile. "Damn it! He wants to—" The portal closed. Mengge Grayriver's consciousness was frozen; trapped in a state of suspended time, he could think no more. Anbaixiu stood right where Mengge Grayriver had been, having already used Polymorph to assume Mengge's form. The high-altitude explosion had naturally been his doing—nothing more than a Delayed Blast Fireball. With everyone's attention drawn by the blast, Anbaixiu had seized the opportunity to kick Mengge Grayriver into his personal demiplane, then taken the man's likeness. Had he been merely a mage, pulling off such a maneuver would have been far from easy, making an instantaneous, seamless substitution virtually impossible. However, being a legendary ranger granted him extraordinary agility. That kick had landed with pinpoint perfection, flowing seamlessly from invisibility into polymorphing in one fluid motion. By the time the bewildered onlookers pulled their gazes back down, Anbaixiu had already flawlessly taken Mengge Grayriver's place. Now, all he needed was a passing excuse to slip away, and then he could interrogate the bearded man thoroughly. Perhaps the artifact was hidden right in his house. "All of you, keep working hard." Anbaixiu barked out in Mengge Grayriver's tone, then strode away from the square. Though a few overseers found it odd—hadn't the general claimed he would supervise until completion, so why the sudden departure?—not a single soul dared utter a question. Many figured that great lords like him merely paid lip service to put on a show; once the show was done, he was off. Who would want to bake under the blistering sun anyway? Just like that, Anbaixiu smoothly abducted his target and slipped back into the shadows. Regrouping with Aige, Anbaixiu opened his demiplane directly, and the two slipped inside where no one could ever find them. Seeing the prisoner frozen in time, Aige remarked in surprise, "This space of yours... isn't right. Even for a legendary mage, creating a space where time can be manipulated is impossible. This is practically a miniature divine realm." An ordinary legendary mage could create a personal demiplane, but never one this vast, nor could they manipulate time within it at will. The moment Aige stepped inside, she sensed the temporal power woven into the realm—a power not even she, a demigod, could resist. Anbaixiu did not hide it either, answering candidly, "Obtained through a Wish spell. It does feel a bit like a divine realm, though it falls far short of a true one. Well, Captain, make yourself comfortable. Let me inspect this man's memories." Anbaixiu waved his hand, dispelling Mengge Grayriver's Time Stop. The moment Mengge Grayriver came to his senses, his first instinct was to cast a spell and fight his kidnapper to the death. Yet he was given no opportunity to act. The fear aura radiating from Anbaixiu scattered his gathering mana. Shivering in terror, Mengge's legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground. "Calm down, sir," Anbaixiu said to him. "I merely have a few questions to ask." "W-Who... who are you?" Mengge Grayriver stammered, teeth chattering. "Why does every prisoner love to ask such pointless questions? What does it matter who I am? Is it your place to ask questions?" Holding up three fingers, Anbaixiu said, "I will ask only three questions; my patience lasts no longer than that. First question: do you possess an artifact?" Mengge Grayriver blurted out hurriedly, "What artifact?! Even our Raging Tide Kingdom has no artifacts, so how could I possibly have one?!" Only enchanted equipment imbued with a deity's omnipotence could be deemed an artifact, and such treasures were exceedingly rare. The Lord of the Storm had suffered a devastating loss in the war a thousand years ago and had never had the leeway to bestow artifacts upon his followers. "Second question: when this city was founded, were there any unusual legends—such as discovering a peculiar seal or uncovering traces of ancient magic?" Mengge Grayriver shook his head again. "I have never heard of such a thing. Truly, never!" "Final question: regarding the time dragon artifact the elves sealed on this island, have you really heard nothing about it—not even the faintest whisper of a rumor?" Anbaixiu's tone turned chillingly cold. Did this fellow truly know nothing at all? Sensing Anbaixiu's growing impatience, Mengge Grayriver scrambled to say, "I know, I know! Legends about the elves—I've read about that in books..." Before Mengge Grayriver could even finish his sentence, scarlet light erupted from Anbaixiu's fingertips and struck his body. Laced with potent corrosive power, the scarlet energy dissolved his flesh to ash in the blink of an eye. Anbaixiu reached out into the fluttering ash and snared his soul. Yet another soul lacking devotion to his god—otherwise, it would have long since ascended to the divine realm instead of being plucked out by Anbaixiu. Aige asked in puzzlement, "What happened? Didn't he just say he knew?" "He was merely lying to buy time. Lying to a divination wizard is a truly foolish choice." Deftly unraveling Mengge Grayriver's soul thread by thread, Anbaixiu combed through every strand of memory, only to come away empty-handed. Mengge Grayriver genuinely possessed zero intelligence regarding the artifact; not even a passing legend had ever reached his ears. "The trail's gone cold. That shouldn't be. Fate clearly pointed me in this direction." Anbaixiu began to wonder: could that withered leaf have pointed not to the man, but to the spot where he stood? Did that mean all he had to do was dig downward to find the artifact? That seemed quite plausible. Anbaixiu quickly said to Aige, "Captain, perhaps I misunderstood. The withered leaf might not have been pointing to a person, but to a location. I'll go back and dig around. Why don't you rest here for a bit?" Keeping Aige hidden in his demiplane and letting the demigod out to pummel whatever threat arose was by far the safest strategy. Aige agreed without fuss. Although this rudimentary divine realm also exerted a suppressing effect on her, she trusted the President's judgment. As fellow members of the Elegy Poetry Society, Anbaixiu would not harm her. Leaving his demiplane and polymorphing back into Mengge Grayriver, Anbaixiu returned to the square once more. Reaching the original spot, he found a slightly raised platform situated in the exact center of the plaza. Though Anbaixiu had left only to turn right back around, nobody dared raise an eyebrow. Anbaixiu paced the area, discovering the ground was solid, stubborn bedrock. Digging into it would undoubtedly cause a massive commotion. Were no one around, he could attempt to veil the disturbance with magic. Yet construction of some sort was underway here, with hundreds of people laboring away. Avoiding notice would be next to impossible. Furthermore, Anbaixiu had no idea how deep he would need to dig to unearth whatever artifact lay beneath. Blame the elves of old—when they buried the artifact, they had never intended for anyone to ever find it, leaving behind not a shred of a clue. Just as Anbaixiu was contemplating whether to dismiss the workers and start digging directly, he spotted a woman with long red hair and clad in chainmail storming toward him. The closer she drew, the brighter the lightning crackled across her form. Anbaixiu recognized her from Mengge Grayriver's memories: this was Princess Ariel of the Raging Tide Kingdom. But what was with this aggressive, wrathful charge?! Aura blazing with crackling lightning, Her Royal Highness raised her warhammer high and roared at Anbaixiu, "Mengge Grayriver! You miserable swine, we agreed to open the ports! Who authorized you to round up these fishermen and work them like draft beasts?!"