After looting the adventurers, Anbaixiu came away with over three thousand gold coins in cash, a set of Hellrider armor in seventy-percent condition, an elm staff, and a scattering of miscellaneous odds and ends.
Anbaixiu estimated that the whole haul was worth sixty to seventy thousand gold coins, with the full set of Hellrider armor being the most valuable piece. This was no ordinary antique; not only did it possess historical value, but it was fully functional as wearable armor. What was more, its history was tied to no ordinary epic, but to a mythological saga involving a fallen angel.
A set of armor that had ventured into Hell, the armor of a betrayer—if he found a collector who favored such relics, it would be worth far more than sixty or seventy thousand gold coins; selling it for several hundred thousand wouldn't be surprising in the least.
These adventurers were truly wealthy. Yet after Anbaixiu stripped them clean like this, who knew if they could even pay their tavern bill? Most likely, quite a few of them would end up seized as debt-slaves.
This was why one shouldn't act on impulse. Stirring up a ruckus without figuring out who your opponent was, leaving no room for negotiation and forcing them into a corner where flipping the table was their only choice—when an unexpected turn occurred, the result was total defeat.
Just as Anbaixiu was about to head back with his spoils in high satisfaction, he suddenly sensed a peculiar disturbance inside his private space.
Relocating to another spot, Anbaixiu hurriedly opened it to investigate, only to discover that the Hellrider's black heavy armor was glowing.
A dark red, searing radiance, resembling the fires of Hell.
Curious, Anbaixiu walked over to look and saw a phantom forged of flames manifest upon the armor.
It was an aged tiefling, his face etched with hardship, opening his mouth to spew hellfire straight at Anbaixiu.
With a flick of his hand, Anbaixiu effortlessly dispersed the flames. Then, with a tap of his fingertip, he fired three red Magic Missiles, blasting the armor backward.
Although sent flying by the impact, the Hellrider armor didn't seem to have suffered much damage. The fiery phantom sank into the armor, and as if a living man had donned it, the suit began charging toward Anbaixiu in great, sweeping strides.
Anbaixiu let out a soft chuckle. Without making a move, he froze the flame-wreathed heavy armor in place; even the roaring inferno was locked in time.
This was Anbaixiu's private space, after all, where he could control the flow of time at will.
Anbaixiu strolled up to the immobilized suit of armor and said with some surprise, "Hellfire and a vengeful spirit... Now that's a rare combination."
The tiefling phantom bore some resemblance to that unfortunate adventuring party leader. Anbaixiu figured it was likely something akin to an ancestral spirit, just brimming with overwhelming resentment.
"He died harboring lingering grudges over turning traitor, so his soul bound itself to the armor. Because his descendants were the ones wearing it, the spirit never harmed its wielders. But the moment someone took the armor by force, the fellow came out to cause trouble... Something like that, probably."
Reasoning this through, Anbaixiu reached out and seized the frozen vengeful spirit.
With a hook of his finger, he drew out a fiery-red thread, then deftly peeled away layer after layer, unraveling the infernal specter into a neat ball of yarn.
Having dismantled the spirit, Anbaixiu also gleaned its past from its memories.
It was pretty much as he had guessed. The betrayer had cheated his way into immense wealth and glory, but in his twilight years, he grew terrified of falling into Hell and facing the master he had betrayed once more. Under that sheer terror, he had transformed into a vengeful spirit.
The spirit bound itself to the armor and was passed down to his son, grandson, and great-grandson.
Down to this generation, they had departed the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn and come to the desert to form an adventuring company.
From the spirit's memories, Anbaixiu also uncovered an interesting detail: the descendants of the Hellriders who had betrayed the angel Zariel all those years ago were currently being purged.
Even though the original traitors were virtually all dead, their descendants were being systematically hunted down. That was why this group of tieflings had fled their homeland to eke out a living in the desert.
Because they had once been nobility and possessed a decent heritage, their captain had built up a respectable adventuring company and achieved a bit of success—only to have the terrible misfortune of running into Anbaixiu.
"Fascinating. Why is Unholy Hymn hunting down the descendants of those Hellriders? The kingdom made deals with Hell again... Wait, could it be that these Hellrider descendants are being gifted to Zariel? Using the traitors' offspring as offerings in exchange for her aid?"
Anbaixiu felt his hypothesis was very likely.
To be fair, Zariel had grown significantly more powerful after falling; manipulating a mortal kingdom was hardly a difficult task for her.
Still, the tieflings probably hadn't aligned themselves too deeply with the fallen angel, or else the gods above would have intervened long ago.
"Sigh. The madmen in the City of Alchemy tried to achieve godhood and ended up destroyed; the Silvermoon High Court tried to orchestrate an elven renaissance and blew it; and now tieflings colluding with Hell are on the verge of ruin. It seems every kingdom that courts death ends up heading for destruction... Makes no sense. How has Ryan courted death for so long and remained so strong?"
Anbaixiu only lamented the unfairness of the deities. They really ought to bestow blessings upon a world-benefiting lich like him. Religious zealots were far more terrifying than even cultists.
After grumbling for a bit, Anbaixiu picked up the thread of the vengeful spirit and began reweaving it.
This was a fine spirit with formidable soul strength. All it needed was to have a few memories purged, a bit of emotion stripped away, a few functions added, and Anbaixiu's own imprint stamped onto it... The original infernal spirit was transformed by Anbaixiu into a very peculiar undead.
Anbaixiu stuffed the undead back into the Hellrider armor. Instantly, roaring flames erupted, and the armor split into dozens of components that flew straight toward him.
The pieces snapped snugly onto Anbaixiu's skeletal frame, outfitting him in the Hellrider armor.
Not only that, once fully donned, Anbaixiu's legs and hands began erupting with massive plumes of hellfire, the tremendous thrust pushing his body upward in a steady climb.
Anbaixiu cast Feather Fall on himself, rendering his body as light as a plume. Propelled by the fiery thrusters, he flew out of his private space and back into Sweetdew City.
He shot out from the alley straight into the night sky, trailing a magnificent arc of flame. Anbaixiu flew right out of Sweetdew City to avoid having to explain to the lizardman city guards why he had breached the no-fly decree.
Feeling the wind whip past him at high altitude, Anbaixiu roughly gauged his flying speed to be about two hundred kilometers per hour.
Not blazing fast, but far quicker than the sixty or seventy kilometers per hour of the Fly spell.
"Can I combine this with the jet engine? And paired with my mithral body, maybe I could attempt breaking the sound barrier."
Anbaixiu flew from night until day, pausing now and then to recalibrate and rework his setup. By sunrise, he had swapped into the newest version of his mithral mech armor.
Over his mithral-forged body rested a heavy layer of black plate, as though he were wearing two sets of armor simultaneously.
A bit bulky, perhaps, but what mattered was function.
Fly, Feather Fall, and then the jet engine... Everything that could possibly be stacked was incorporated. Anbaixiu ignited his entire body while activating the jet engine on his back.
Anbaixiu shot straight toward the heavens, moving so fast that his soul felt like it was about to be ripped out of his bones.
With the boom of a tremendous blast, Anbaixiu knew he had breached the speed of sound.
Unfortunately, the jet engine—retrofitted from a magitech cannon—remained rather unstable. After rocketing a thousand meters into the air, it detonated with a loud bang.
The blast sent Anbaixiu tumbling head over heels several times before he finally stabilized his body.
Only a lich with an immortal body could pull off stunts like this. If it had been a living creature, that explosion alone would have knocked a sturdy orc unconscious, sending them plummeting to the ground to splatter into meat paste.
"I still need to carve out some time to study the jet engine. I'd rather dial down the power a bit if it means reinforcing its stability. As long as it doesn't blow up, this armor should allow me to break the sound barrier reliably."
Speed was an attribute that could never be overlooked.
Last time, he had been able to walk a pack of legendary paladins like dogs precisely because his jet engine far outpaced the speed of Fly.
Without it, he would certainly have been minced into fine bone meal by that mob of paladins.
If Anbaixiu could sustain such speeds consistently, he would be virtually invincible in aerial combat.
Even a Silvermoon Knight's sword light might not be able to catch him. Going forward, he would be the only one hitting people, while no one could lay a hand on him.
He could easily bomb several cities in Ryan in a single day—dropping a few Meteor Swarms here, then flying somewhere else thirty minutes later to drop a few more Meteor Swarms.
A legendary mage boasting tremendous mobility alongside mana output rivaling an entire mage division—the mere thought was terrifying.
Just as he was contemplating this brilliant future, Anbaixiu discovered something even more wonderful appearing before him.
The God of Alchemy descended right beside him, handing over four finger-sized boxes.
"I've extracted the divine portfolios. Take them."
"Why are there four?" Anbaixiu asked in surprise. Hadn't they agreed to leave one for the God of Alchemy?
The God of Alchemy said, "None of these divine portfolios suit me. So, you'll have to trade something else for them. That gear of yours that broke the sound barrier—give me all the technical data. I have a subtle feeling that alchemy is on the verge of a breakthrough."
Chapter 282