Are Artifacts a Dime a Dozen?

The three-way discussion ended with Aldarian conceding completely. Four hundred years had passed, and while Aldarian had certainly grown, Anbaixiu hadn't stayed stagnant either. Losing to the Anbaixiu of today was no disgrace—after all, even gods had been swindled by him, and more than one at that. Though Catherine sensed the two were keeping something from her, her wits weren't sharp enough to pry it out. In the end, they arrived at a resolution: Aldarian would sound out James Watson's offer on Anbaixiu's behalf. If he knew what was good for him, he would help Anbaixiu squeeze even more benefits out of James Watson; otherwise, the elven race would be left footing the bill. Meanwhile, Anbaixiu went to find the former Elven King so he could meet Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit. It served both to authenticate the spirit and to let two old friends reminisce. Without Anbaixiu even needing to move from where he stood, the weather-beaten former Elven King arrived before long. The old monarch appeared to hold a deep grudge against the lich. Without bothering with pleasantries, he said bluntly, "Let me see Arthur." Anbaixiu didn't mind his client's attitude. He produced the hourglass artifact and set it on the table. Arthur Ryan's spectral figure drifted up from the hourglass. The old Elven King's eyes reddened instantly. In a trembling voice, he said, "Arthur, it really is you!" Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit studied the former king, frowning in thought for a long while before finally recognizing him. "Are you... Hildas?!" Tears finally spilled down the aged elf's cheeks. After more than a thousand years, he was finally seeing the friend who had fought by his side all those centuries ago. Looking at that wrinkle-lined face, Arthur Ryan remarked wistfully, "More than a thousand years really have gone by. I never imagined I'd see the day you grew old." The old elf chuckled hoarsely. "I've seen what you looked like old, too. You were far worse off than me." Arthur Ryan puffed with pride. "That wasn't me! I won't ever grow old again. I will forever be the handsomest paladin on the continent." Seeing them both on the verge of tears, Anbaixiu tactfully took his leave, giving the two heroes who had once united against the demonic dragon some privacy. After waiting about four or five hours, the two heroes were still talking nonstop inside. Had Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit not grown somewhat faint, they probably could have talked for days and nights on end. When Anbaixiu stepped back into the room, he noticed tear stains that hadn't been wiped clean on the old elf's face. Clearly, he had wept bitterly. Anbaixiu refrained from teasing him over it and came straight to the point. "It seems I don't need to ask. It's Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit, beyond a shadow of a doubt." The former Elven King said in a heavy voice, "Name your price." Anbaixiu replied quizzically, "What do you mean by that? Are the elves planning to compete with Ryan for their founding Holy King's heroic spirit?" "That is correct. He cannot be allowed to return to Ryan. His personality is still the same reckless, hot-headed one from back then. Letting him return to Ryan will only get him murdered by those degenerate royals. Back then, I stood by and watched him march off to his death alone. I will not let history repeat itself today." Arthur Ryan's memories were frozen right before he challenged the Demonic Dragon Tyrant, knowing nothing of the empire's subsequent establishment. Over a thousand years ago, he was the Holy King, the hero who vanquished the demonic dragon, standing unmatched in stature. Now, however, the Ryan royal house had long since fallen into corruption. Arthur Ryan was merely a heroic spirit; they would have a hundred different ways to destroy him. "Though our motives differ, I don't mind having another buyer," Anbaixiu said. "However, you're no longer the Elven King. Relying solely on your personal fortune, I doubt you can afford my price." "Just how much do you want? Name a price, and I'll find a way." "In that case... let's say one trillion gold coins," Anbaixiu offered casually. "Are you mad?! Do you have any idea how much that is? That much gold piled up could fill an entire city!" Anbaixiu said with a smile, "That depends on the city. It certainly wouldn't fill Ryan's imperial capital. One trillion gold coins sounds like a fortune, but for Ryan, it's not entirely out of reach." The former Elven King scoffed disdainfully. "Hmph. Unless they can turn every Ryan citizen into gold." "Is Arthur Ryan not worth that price?" "Tossing out an arbitrary number is completely meaningless. Even if all the kingdoms pooled their wealth, they couldn't produce that much gold." "Of course there isn't that much pure gold, but I don't mind accepting other items of equal value. Didn't your elves just settle an account using magical materials? I trust Ryan can offer something precious enough—for instance... the Dragon Tyrant Armament." The former Elven King sneered, "Setting aside just how vital the Dragon Tyrant Armament is to Ryan, even if they handed it over to you, what use would it be beyond a collector's piece? The Dragon Tyrant Armament can only be wielded by those of Arthur's bloodline. Even his heroic spirit cannot activate it. What could you possibly want it for?" "Just as you said: to add to my collection. That's the Dragon Tyrant Armament, after all. It doesn't matter whether I can use it; what matters is that Ryan won't have it. You must know full well that as a lich, I'm destined to be Ryan's mortal enemy. A Ryan with the Dragon Tyrant Armament versus one without makes an enormous difference to me." The former Elven King tentatively bought Anbaixiu's reasoning. The Dragon Tyrant Armament was indeed an artifact capable of shifting the balance of power across the continent. Yet Ryan would never agree. Even if Arthur Ryan were brought back to life in the flesh, the Ryan Empire would never surrender that set of artifacts in exchange. That regalia had already become an emblem of imperial sovereignty, anchoring the empire's destiny. Losing it would spell Ryan's inevitable decline. "You'd best put that thought out of your mind. I can offer you an elven artifact in exchange for Arthur's spirit." The former Elven King brought out a ring that looked thoroughly ordinary. It resembled a crudely whittled piece of oak, lacking any gemstones, and Anbaixiu could not detect any unusual magical fluctuations coming from it either. Yet a single sentence from the old king made its worth immediately clear. "Whoever wears this ring will be marked. Upon their death, it will trigger a True Resurrection." "True Resurrection?!" Anbaixiu was stunned. Many clerics could cast Resurrection. So long as the target hadn't been dead for too long and the corpse was reasonably intact, Resurrection could restore them to life. But the prerequisite was an intact soul. If the soul was destroyed, nothing could be done. It was just like Aige's father—the shipwright who had planted a seed in a pirate ship, then poured his own soul into it as nourishment so the seed could grow, turning the pirate ship into a ghost ship. With his soul extinguished, he could never be brought back through regular resurrection magic. True Resurrection suffered from no such limitation. Whether the soul was gone or the body destroyed, it didn't matter in the least; it could bring the person back to the mortal realm completely unchanged, curing even terminal illnesses in the process. Even if Anbaixiu's phylactery were shattered, and his soul torn to shreds and stuffed into the belly of an archdemon, he could still be resurrected. Such was the power of True Resurrection. Anbaixiu's first thought was of Aige, wondering if this might allow her to resurrect that old shipwright. But once the former Elven King explained the ring's mechanics, Anbaixiu abandoned the idea. The ring had to be worn while the user was still alive, imprinting the magic of True Resurrection upon them so it would take effect after death. It could not be applied to someone else after the fact. "When Arthur marched off to challenge the Demonic Dragon Tyrant back then, he was wearing this ring as well." "Then how do you know the enchantment is still intact? For all we know, he might have used it during his battle with the Demonic Dragon Tyrant," Anbaixiu asked. "True Resurrection can be reused, but the interval between uses must be at least a century. Over a thousand years have passed by now; the ring has long since replenished its power." A True Resurrection once every hundred years might not be something a human could live long enough to use twice. Yet Anbaixiu was a lich. A century was hardly an issue for him. He couldn't possibly be so unlucky as to have his phylactery smashed twice within a hundred years, could he? Anbaixiu was sorely tempted, but the price was still not enough. "A True Resurrection is magnificent, but Arthur Ryan is worth far more than that. The hourglass he inhabits is an artifact in its own right. Trading one artifact for another, while throwing in the heroic spirit of a Holy King on top—I'd be taking a massive loss on that deal." The former Elven King said angrily, "Haggling won't do you any good! This ring is all I can offer. Everything else I own wouldn't amount to a fraction of its value." That was the honest truth. The former Elven King was not beloved by the gods the way Catherine was, who carried three artifacts on her person and countless divine blessings. This ring was his only artifact, and his other magical equipment was hardly worth mentioning. As for savings, elves by nature did not hoard wealth. The old king lacked for neither food nor drink, but had little actual coin. "We'll table this for now, then. Let me hear Ryan's offer first." "Ryan will never hand over an artifact in exchange! Do you even know what an artifact is? Do you think you can just find them lying on the street?" "I happen to have plenty of artifacts." Anbaixiu produced a black dagger and slammed it onto the table. "This is an artifact Shar gave me. She practically begged me to help her when she handed it over." Before the former Elven King could carefully sense the divine power within the dagger, Anbaixiu slapped a gold coin onto the table with a clack and continued, "This gold coin was gifted to me by the God of Alchemy, who also practically begged me to take it." Finally, Anbaixiu pointed to the hourglass on the table. "And this artifact of the Demonic Dragon Tyrant from over a thousand years ago? I picked it up off the ground. As far as I'm concerned, artifacts practically are lying on the street. Is there a problem?" The former Elven King was struck speechless. He, a dignified former king of the elves, possessed only a single artifact! Was this lich Ao's own son or something? Naturally, they failed to reach an agreement. Anbaixiu coveted the artifact of True Resurrection, but he certainly wouldn't sell his most valuable asset so cheaply. A resurrection was wonderful, but it paled in comparison to the Dragon Tyrant Armament. Just as the former Elven King prepared to resume bargaining, Anbaixiu abruptly changed the subject, showing him Trisna's corpse. As it turned out, the former Elven King recognized her immediately. "It's actually her! You've truly avenged a great grievance of ours this time." Anbaixiu asked curiously, "Did this drow elf slaughter your kin?" The former Elven King sighed wistfully. "Yes, and more than once. Three whole villages—two thousand elven lives. Thank you. I will consider myself in your debt for this." Having confirmed that the drow elf had value, Anbaixiu said to him, "Since she's useful, how about this favor plus Shar's artifact dagger in exchange for your resurrection ring? An artifact combined with this favor—you'd be getting the better end of the deal." The former Elven King looked suspicious. "Does that dagger have some kind of drawback?" Anbaixiu said hurriedly, "That's blasphemy against a deity, you know! As a partner of the goddess, I can't just pretend I didn't hear that!" "Now I'm even more certain there's something wrong with that dagger! If you want the bounty for that drow elf, go have my grandson settle it with you. I'm not the Elven King anymore." Likely terrified of being swindled by Anbaixiu, the former Elven King decisively refused to speak with him any further, standing up to leave. Anbaixiu shouted after him, "Don't go! How about I throw in some coin!" Hearing that, the former Elven King hastened his stride. Anbaixiu sighed helplessly. It seemed he would have to wait for that old man James Watson's offer. As Ryan's Supreme Arbiter, he surely had an artifact or two up his sleeve, didn't he?