Damned Fate

"You want to consult that lich?" The former Elven King thought he had misheard. This was an internal matter for the elves, and she wanted advice from a lich? What in the world had Catherine experienced during that brief journey to reflexively seek counsel from such a creature? "I know it sounds strange, but if you had spent time around him, you would understand. No one understands business better than he does. He knows how to balance the interests of every side, and I believe he can resolve this issue." Catherine had accompanied Anbaixiu on that journey, and while she hadn't mastered many new skills, her self-awareness had improved immensely. She had finally realized she was an unfit leader, as naive as a child who had never grown up. Thus, when confronted with state affairs of this magnitude, her instinct was to consult the lich who always seemed capable of solving anything. Catherine's trust in Anbaixiu had been built upon miracle after miracle. That lich had brought a paladin to his knees, turned the Raging Tide Kingdom into his private playground, and subdued druids with mere words... That silver tongue of his was surely blessed by the gods; there was nothing he couldn't handle. The former Elven King could not help glancing toward his grandson, hoping the young monarch would offer an opinion. This was seeking outside counsel—did the elves have no pride left? Yet Aldarian responded without the slightest hesitation: "Good, no problem. We'll do just as Sister Catherine says and consult with that lich." The former king was utterly exasperated. His grandson was a lost cause. With Aldarian's backing, Catherine felt a wave of relief. Still, the problem remained: how were they to contact him? Long-distance communication had always been a major hurdle, and Catherine possessed no artifact like the Necrotic Codex that could disregard distance entirely. Hearing Catherine's concern, Aldarian replied offhandedly, "Isn't that simple? Send an urgent dispatch and have him come straight to the Silvermoon High Court." Inviting a lich into the Silvermoon High Court was quite likely a first since the realm was founded. Yet the former Elven King no longer had the energy to bicker with his grandson. Regardless of whether Aldarian's earlier political arguments had been made up on the spot, the boy had spoken the truth. Hildas was old, blinded by past sentiments, and no longer capable of making objective, rational judgments. Since that was the case, he would leave it to Aldarian. He was the Elven King now, after all. Catherine's handwritten letter soon arrived before Anbaixiu. Spared no expense, the Silvermoon High Court's express courier delivered it to the desert in just one hour. However, unable to reach Anbaixiu directly, the letter had to be handed to Harvey on the surface so the young wizard could deliver it in person. Consequently, two hours had already passed by the time Anbaixiu received it. Fortunately, the sun had not yet set. After reading Catherine's letter, Anbaixiu hesitated for only a moment before resolving to set out for the Silvermoon High Court. Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit had to be dealt with sooner or later, so he might as well seize this opportunity to negotiate a price with Ryan. With the Silvermoon High Court acting as mediator, James Watson surely wouldn't dare lay a finger on him. Anbaixiu switched into an ordinary skeletal frame, took the form of the black-haired youth, and stepped onto the teleportation array, wishing to avoid any prejudice the elves might harbor toward a bare skull. After several transfers, he finally arrived within the Silvermoon High Court. The moment he stepped off the teleportation array, Anbaixiu felt a dense aura of vitality washing over him. The elves were exceptionally long-lived and striking not merely because of racial traits, but also because of their environment. The Silvermoon High Court was saturated everywhere with this nourishing aura of life. Not only was it comfortable for elves, but even a human living here could reach a centenarian age free from sickness and suffering. Walking along the colonnades under the guidance of several young elven maidens, Anbaixiu arrived before a magnificent palace. At a glance, he spotted Catherine. She was unchanged from before, still possessing that peerless, breathtaking beauty that struck him anew at every encounter, dazzling enough to stir even an undead heart. Having traveled with her for some time, however, Anbaixiu had developed a measure of resistance, allowing him to greet her with proper decorum. Catherine, on the other hand, was far more excited than he was. Ever since returning to the Silvermoon High Court, she had frequently looked back on their days of adventuring together; it had been the most thrilling chapter of her life. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Catherine escorted Anbaixiu into a small reception parlor where the new Elven King, Aldarian, sat waiting. The young monarch was eager to meet Anbaixiu and see what kind of talent the lich possessed to command such admiration from Catherine. Yet the moment their eyes met, Aldarian's eyes went wide, and his expression twisted slightly. His eyes bulged, his features contorted in fury, and his hands instantly clamped onto the hilt of the sword at his waist, looking ready to cut down this unusual guest at any second. "It's you?!" Aldarian squeezed the words through gritted teeth, his resentment so palpable that even the naive Catherine took notice. Anbaixiu stared in bewilderment at the young king. The atmosphere felt wrong—had the elves lured him here to slaughter him? "Your Majesty, what is the meaning of this?" Catherine moved to ask, but Aldarian cut in, "Sister Catherine, please grant me a moment alone with this lich. It is my earnest request." Though perplexed, Catherine had rarely seen Aldarian act in such a manner. Realizing the matter was far from simple, she had no choice but to step outside for the time being. The moment the door shut, Aldarian strode right up to Anbaixiu, glaring at him without a shred of royal etiquette. "Er... do we know each other?" Anbaixiu asked in confusion. With a darkened expression, Aldarian leaned in and hissed under his breath, "The Tiefling Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn... Red River Town..." "Red River Town?" A distant memory stirred within Anbaixiu, dating back to before he had become a lich. In those days, Potions of Youth had not been expensive, and a single bottle could buy thirty-odd years. It was also in that town that he had fought a great battle with a female drow elf, from the bed to the floor, ultimately slaying her in self-defense. That hadn't been a big deal; had Shar not revealed the drow was Lolth's chosen, Anbaixiu would have forgotten all about it long ago. Why was this young elf bringing up Red River Town, though? What did a drow elf have to do with a high elf? "Did we meet two hundred years ago?" Anbaixiu inquired. "No, more than four hundred years ago!" Aldarian growled, fighting to suppress his rage. "Four hundred years... Forgive me, I don't recall." Back then, Anbaixiu had still been very young, likely having just started out as a divination wizard. It was simply too long ago; he genuinely couldn't remember. "You don't recall?! You have the nerve to tell me you don't recall? My entire fortune at the time was thirty gold coins, and you swindled every last one of them! I starved for half a month!" "Ah... well..." Anbaixiu felt a twinge of embarrassment. It turned out this was a mark he had fleeced back in the day. Yet even with Aldarian recounting it so vividly, Anbaixiu still couldn't summon the memory. He genuinely had no recollection; the number of people he had conned in his life was beyond counting, and a paltry thirty gold coins could hardly reserve a spot in his memory. In stark contrast to Anbaixiu's composure, Aldarian was boiling inside. His thoughts drifted back centuries, to when he hadn't yet reached adulthood and had tried to follow in his parents' footsteps by becoming an adventurer. As a remarkably gifted elven ranger, his early days had been smooth sailing. Just as Aldarian believed an adventurer's life was nothing but joy and rich harvests, he crossed paths in tiefling lands with the black-haired, dark-eyed youth standing before him now. The lad had possessed such an exotic appearance, facial features unlike those of any human kingdom, immediately piquing Aldarian's curiosity. Their conversation had gone wonderfully. A few drinks had warmed them up, and within moments, Anbaixiu's words had made Aldarian feel as if he had found a soulmate—a bosom friend who understood him better than his own parents. Just as he was thanking the elven gods for their blessing, Aldarian was shown just how treacherous the hearts of mortals could be. Not only did Anbaixiu swindle every bit of his hard-earned spoils, but he also borrowed a massive sum of money under his name. To this day, Aldarian had no idea when he had signed that promissory note. In a single day, Aldarian was utterly ruined. Even his reputation was destroyed; local adventurers branded him an untrustworthy elven brat, probably a bleached drow posing as a high elf. To an elf, that was an immense insult, an offense worthy of a fight to the death. Yet Aldarian could offer no rebuttal. It was indeed his signature on the debt note, even though he hadn't seen a single copper of the coin. It took Aldarian a month to pay off the debts, after which he had no choice but to slink back to his parents and admit he had underestimated the adventuring life. It was only after this catastrophe that Aldarian learned caution—the first bitter step toward maturity, bought at an agonizing price. "Why did you deceive me?! I thought we were friends! I thought you were the very first true friend of my life!" Aldarian's eyes were red with fury as he interrogated Anbaixiu. That had been the innocent youth's most cherished friendship. He had remembered Anbaixiu's face for centuries. He had assumed it was merely a youthful mishap that would leave only a sigh of nostalgia. Yet confronting Anbaixiu once more, that grievance and anger had not faded in the slightest; he wanted nothing more than to run this lich through with his sword! Listening to Aldarian recount the ordeal in detail, Anbaixiu gradually pieced together fragments of the past. With a wry smile, Anbaixiu explained, "Your Majesty, I remember now. In your eyes, an elf and a human were having a pleasant chat, but from where I stood back then, you were the one harboring ill intent." "How was I harboring ill intent?!" Aldarian demanded angrily. "Do you remember the very first words you said to me? You told me my clothes were in rags and I must be having a miserable time, then offered that if I stuck with you, you'd look after me. Frankly speaking, anyone with adventuring experience knows that line means you're looking for an idiot to use as cannon fodder!" Anbaixiu had his own rules when fleecing people; generally speaking, he didn't mess with those who didn't mess with him. Back then, Aldarian had been a newly emerged adventurer who had already made a modest name for himself. Combined with his elven heritage, he naturally carried himself with pride. Talking to Anbaixiu, he had fallen effortlessly into a haughty, superior posture. Aldarian was inexperienced, but Anbaixiu was not. By then, he had already gathered years of adventuring under his belt. When a seemingly famous adventurer approached a complete stranger with a domineering attitude saying, "Stick with me and I'll look after you," there was only one plausible explanation: he needed cannon fodder, or he had spotted a fat sheep. Anbaixiu had seen far too many such people. He had decisively chosen to play along, swindle the coin, and run. He couldn't recall the specific details, but regardless, it had merely been an insignificant footnote along his adventuring path. Who could have guessed that an elf he had once fleeced would end up becoming the Elven King? Anbaixiu couldn't help reflecting on his tumultuous life. His first teacher was the God of Alchemy; the drow he had killed after a casual tryst had been Lolth's chosen; a random elven ranger he had swindled was now the Elven King... He was beginning to wonder whether the Silvermoon Knight had held a grudge against him in his youth as well, only for him to have forgotten it. Damned fate! Yet Anbaixiu felt not a shred of guilt. Instead, he spoke to Aldarian with righteous confidence: "Your Majesty, four hundred years ago, you were an adventurer and I was an adventurer. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, but I only had one life. "As an insignificant nobody, I worried about surviving every second of every day. Perhaps I failed to investigate thoroughly at the time, and if you truly wish to settle accounts, I can offer you an apology. "However, if I had to do it all over again, I would do the exact same thing. Because I had no way of knowing whether malice lurked behind your so-called goodwill. That is the daily reality of an adventurer." Such was the sorrow of the bottom rung. Anbaixiu had been nothing more than an extra who could end up as an unburied corpse in the wilderness at any moment. Perhaps his life held countless misunderstandings of the sort, but it was precisely his caution and vigilance that had allowed him to survive until now. These were the sins of his past; he would not deny them, but neither would he feel guilty. When you were at the bottom, more often than not, you had no choices to begin with. If the Elven King truly wished to pursue it... Anbaixiu wouldn't mind self-destructing once more. Swapping bodies was easy enough for him now. Having heard Anbaixiu's apology, Aldarian fell silent for a long time. Finally, he looked at Anbaixiu and said, "You're right. That's how adventurers are. I only came to understand that lesson later on. However, don't expect me to take your side this time. I will do everything in my power to help Ryan ensure your heroic spirit doesn't fetch a good price." Since political pretexts didn't matter, his personal feelings took precedence. Aldarian resolutely chose ruthless vengeance. He would make Anbaixiu bleed gold to avenge the grudge of those thirty coins. Looking at the still-youthful Elven King, Anbaixiu chuckled inwardly. When it came to business negotiations, he was invincible!