The Lich Who Most Desires Ryan to Flourish

Now that the truth had been laid bare, James Watson felt as though his life had taken a momentous turn. Everything he had once believed in seemed to be nothing more than wicked villainy cloaked beneath the veil of the Holy Light. Anbaixiu's parting remark plunged James Watson into deep thought. What he had long believed to be a sacred artifact protecting Ryan had turned out to be an instrument required for the resurrection of the Demonic Dragon Tyrant. If an exchange were truly possible, James Watson wouldn't mind parting with such a dangerous relic as the Dragon Tyrant Armament. "Regrettably, the Dragon Tyrant Armament belongs to the imperial family. Even as the Supreme Arbiter, I have no authority to dispose of it. That set of artifacts has always been hidden deep within the imperial palace, and no one may touch it except the imperial bloodline." "Can't you just steal it for me?" "Then why wouldn't I just stage an open rebellion?" "That works too. Let's set a date and coordinate from the inside and outside." "Just shut your mouth, lich!" ... Even after Anbaixiu had delivered such a staggering truth, the Supreme Arbiter still seemed unwilling to betray Ryan. In his own words, no matter how corrupt the imperial family had become, the hundreds of millions of people in Ryan were innocent. The moment James Watson raised the banner of revolt, Ryan would inevitably fracture into chaos, and other kingdoms would seize the opportunity to invade. When that happened, far too many would perish. Even the heroic spirit of Arthur Ryan disapproved of such drastic measures. He even went so far as to declare that if Anbaixiu attempted to use him to tear Ryan apart, he would hide inside the hourglass for the rest of his days and never come out. Anbaixiu believed Arthur Ryan spoke in earnest; this legendary hero had never broken his word to anyone. Letting out a sigh, Anbaixiu explained, "Why do you all insist on treating me like the villain? I'm the one who least wants to see Ryan destroyed." James Watson sneered with disdain. "Do you honestly think we'd believe words like that coming from your mouth?" With even greater contempt, Anbaixiu countered, "You're just a wet-behind-the-ears brat who was played for a fool by dragon scions. It's only natural that you can't fathom my grand vision. I don't blame you." "A wet-behind-the-ears brat?!" James Watson desperately wanted to snap back, but the moment he remembered that Anbaixiu was a lich who had lived for centuries while he himself was a mere mortal who had yet to see his hundredth year... he could only swallow his indignation. Anbaixiu pressed on. "You all saw it just now. I can craft souls from ordinary materials—that's how those phylacteries of mine were fashioned. Have you grasped the crux of the matter yet?" Everyone stared at Anbaixiu with baffled expressions. How was any of that crucial? Seeing that none of these three noble figures had caught on, Anbaixiu had no choice but to spell it out. "Isn't the sole reason the undead are deemed so evil because they crave flesh and souls? "Flesh aside for a moment—humans eat the meat of livestock as well, so that isn't really an issue, and the undead don't strictly have to feed on human meat. As long as they switch to consuming livestock, whether they eat it raw or not is none of you paladins' business, right?" These words left James Watson completely dumbfounded. Ordinarily, he would have refuted such an argument without a second thought, but it actually sounded somewhat plausible. Having just endured a total collapse and reconstruction of his worldview, he no longer dared to voice an opinion carelessly. He couldn't help but look toward the heroic spirit of Arthur Ryan, preferring to let the Saint King be the judge. Without hesitation, Arthur Ryan remarked, "Naturally. No matter how benevolent the Holy Light may be, it cannot forbid people from eating meat." Anbaixiu gave Arthur Ryan a thumbs-up and praised, "A Saint King is indeed a Saint King—utterly selfless and impartial. Quite unlike certain people, who harbor nothing but prejudice and discrimination toward the undead." James Watson couldn't even be bothered to argue back. He only wanted to know what Anbaixiu had meant by that "crux." James Watson said, "Just get to the point already. I don't have much time to linger here; I must hurry back to Ryan as soon as possible." "I already told you the crux! If the undead switch to eating livestock meat, they'll have zero conflict with humans. And if they require souls, they can simply buy them from me. With souls and flesh obtained without the slaughter of humanity, what conflict could possibly remain between you and the undead?" James Watson immediately retorted, "They could buy souls from you right now, so why don't they? Because their very nature is cruel and wicked! They must murder living beings to find satisfaction..." "Wrong. It's because living human slaves are cheaper." This time, James Watson was genuinely struck dumb. He had never in his wildest dreams anticipated such an answer. Casting a disdainful glance at him, Anbaixiu continued, "Of course the undead possess innate cruelty and evil, but that has never been the root of the problem. Take a simple example: humans require laws to restrain their behavior. They are coerced into choosing order solely through penalties and costs. Even if every single citizen of Ryan professes faith in the Lord of the Dawn, when have criminals ever vanished from your lands? A friend of mine was betrayed and murdered by citizens of Ryan many years ago, ultimately turning into an undead. You surely remember the name Gareth, don't you?" James Watson fell silent. That name was an eternal pillar of shame for Ryan. The incident had unfolded precisely as Anbaixiu had described: a power-hungry officer had framed his comrade-in-arms, usurped his meritorious deeds, and caused Gareth's death. Later, Gareth returned as a Headless Horseman and butchered every single descendant of that officer. The incident had sent massive shockwaves throughout Ryan. The legion of paladins dispatched to hunt down the Headless Horseman suffered catastrophic casualties, and in the end, the creature managed to escape. Later still, the Headless Horseman appeared in the City of Alchemy, heaping yet another layer of humiliation upon Ryan. Yet no matter the atrocities committed by that undead, it could never erase the fact that he had been framed, while the man who framed him had received grand honors in Ryan and established his own noble house. James Watson could conjure plenty of excuses: that the legion had only recently surrendered and had not yet fully embraced the Holy Light, or that the wrongdoing had long since been rectified, with Ryan choosing not to conceal the mistake but rather to publish the truth for Gareth's sake... But no matter how much was said, none of it held any meaning for Gareth. Whether delayed justice truly counted as justice was for the victim alone to decide, and Gareth clearly refused to acknowledge such a notion. James Watson felt more and more unsettled. How was it that when a cleric of light debated a lich, he was the one who ended up on the moral backfoot? Pressing his advantage, Anbaixiu went on, "Now you should understand. Rules are the true key to restraining evil. The inclination to do wrong resides in everyone; people only abide by regulations because rules hold them in check. The undead are no different. Even if we harbor inherent wickedness, as long as our actions are bounded, we are scarcely different from humanity. "Ryan was actually doing a respectable job. Your might placed severe restraints on the movements of the undead, making it difficult for them to butcher as they pleased. But alas, it still wasn't enough. Over here in the City of Alchemy, a human slave costs a mere few dozen copper coins—the price of a single round of drinks at a tavern. Under such market prices, who would bother buying a Simulated Soul from me for the price of nearly a whole silver coin? "When the rules are too weak and the cost of human lives is cheaper, the undead naturally choose to slaughter humans. It's no different from you humans choosing cheaper raw materials when conducting business—we are fundamentally the same. "So do you understand now? I am the one who most desires Ryan's laws to cover the entire continent. If they do, everyone will be forced to buy souls from me. That way, you get a populace of rule-abiding undead, and I get a thriving market. Wouldn't you call that a win-win?" As Anbaixiu finished his speech, all three listeners wore identical looks of utter astonishment. A lich declaring his wish for Ryan to grow powerful sounded thoroughly absurd on the surface, yet when delivered from Anbaixiu's mouth, it was impeccably logical. And since this lich's obsession with money was known to all, everything he had said made unsettlingly good sense. The Old Elven King couldn't help but sigh. "From now on, do not set foot in the Silvermoon High Court ever again." If he visited a couple more times, the entire kingdom would probably be swindled into bankruptcy. Paying no mind to the brief interlude, Anbaixiu continued, "So, you must now understand my stance. I want Ryan to prosper, and I have no desire to see you fracture from within and collapse completely. That would only trigger a carnival of slaughter among the undead, making it even harder for my products to sell. But precisely because of this, James, how long can you truly maintain Ryan's unity? In your estimation, how much time does Ryan have before an internal fracture occurs?" James Watson pondered the question for a moment before replying, "If everything goes smoothly, Ryan can hold together for at least a century. But if even the slightest misfortune strikes, I fear total collapse will be upon us in an instant." The smoothness James Watson referred to naturally meant military fortune. If Ryan could digest the dwarves' half of the desert, firmly hold the defensive line against the orcs, and avoid any aggression from other kingdoms, it was indeed possible for Ryan to endure. After all, no matter how corrupted the imperial family had become, the institutional framework established by Arthur Ryan during his lifetime was still functioning. The imperial family was forbidden from using magic to prolong their lives, and power had to be shared with the Supreme Arbiter and high ministers of other departments. The royals possessed only the privilege to indulge in luxury, without the means to act with reckless abandon. Furthermore, the high-ranking officials of Ryan were all "righteous men" acknowledged by the Holy Light. The empire's strength was by no means unfounded. However, should their military campaigns falter, a multitude of crises would inevitably follow. As the death of the Silvermoon Knight had demonstrated, Ryan's army was already showing signs of decay. The passing of a hero had failed to inspire youthful vigor in the hearts of the young; instead, it had plunged their morale into the depths. If further defeats accumulated, this suffocating air of decline would rebound into the imperial homeland. Once the hearts of the people scattered, collapse would arrive swiftly. "Therefore, I have a piece of advice." Anbaixiu stood up, speaking as though these were the weightiest words he had ever uttered. "James, return and make your preparations. No matter how much you and I wish to prevent Ryan's demise, its division is inevitable. The sooner you prepare, the less Ryan will suffer." To hear a lich solemnly contemplating the future of Ryan made James Watson feel as if the entire world had gone mad. Yet he could not deny the truth in Anbaixiu's words, and he answered, "I will certainly make preparations. "Alas, it seems the Ryan of today is unworthy of Your Majesty's return. I shall return to my homeland and carry out what must be done. I trust that the Ryan of the future will be worthy of making Your Majesty proud." Feeling that he could linger no longer, James Watson hastily took his leave of the Old Elven King. Anbaixiu made no move to stop him. Since the man couldn't produce the Dragon Tyrant Armament, there was nothing left to discuss; one could hardly measure the worth of Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit in mere gold coins anyway. The meeting came to an end, each participant departing with their own private thoughts. Once Anbaixiu was finally alone, he drew out the Necrotic Codex and penned a single line: [Friends, I just turned Ryan's Supreme Arbiter!]