Reunion

Anbaixiu had truly not expected the tieflings' screening to be so stringent nowadays, and he could not help but lament that after being away for several centuries, he could hardly recognize the face of his old homeland. Anbaixiu explained to the tiefling, "I haven't returned to Red River Town in many years, so it may have changed quite a bit. But I won't make things difficult for you—just tell me how this inspection works." The tiefling mage let out a sigh of relief and explained to Anbaixiu, "It's actually not much trouble. Here is a contract listing all prohibited acts. You simply need to sign it." Anbaixiu took the magical contract and examined it closely. The terms were not unreasonable at a glance: one was forbidden from violating the kingdom's laws or committing any act that endangered kingdom security. If breached, the penalty did not seem terribly severe either—it merely caused a pillar of red light to manifest above one's head, visible from an immense distance. In truth, this was a security measure so wrongdoers could be detected immediately and apprehended, thereby minimizing harm. It seemed entirely reasonable—if not for those bizarre patterns. Anbaixiu pointed at the strange markings on the contract and asked, "What are these?" The tiefling explained, "Those are anti-counterfeiting marks, to prevent anyone from forging our contracts and causing trouble for us." "Is that so?" Anbaixiu gave a quiet chuckle and subtly cast Detect Thoughts on the tiefling. The result was that the tiefling's thoughts matched his words; he genuinely believed those markings were anti-counterfeiting marks, likely told as much by his superior. Anbaixiu sighed inwardly. The kingdom was in serious trouble if even low-ranking soldiers didn't know that these markings were the infernal script of devils. With those devilish characters added, the nature of this otherwise sensible contract had transformed entirely. The true terms had become: for every day spent within the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn, one had to stop a violation of the law at least once, or else breach the contract and forfeit their soul to the devils. This rule was absurd beyond measure. Visitors had to play law enforcement, and what if they simply never encountered an illegal act? A devil's contract cared nothing for circumstances; its binding power was absolute. Had Anbaixiu signed his name, by the time the contract took effect, he would at best have a slim chance to struggle free. Any ordinary mortal would undoubtedly be dragged down to Hell. "How long has this contract been in effect?" Anbaixiu asked. The tiefling answered, "Only a few months. But inspections have grown tighter lately, fewer outsiders are arriving, and we rarely end up using it." "And if I don't sign, I can't enter, right?" "My apologies, but that is the regulation." "Very well, I'll sign." Anbaixiu took up the pen and left a sweeping signature upon the contract. The tiefling checked it, then respectfully said, "Thank you for your cooperation, Master Arthas." Anbaixiu nodded and departed the teleportation array without incident. Signing a false name on a devil's contract meant little, because the contract merely required the deliberate act of signing, not one's true name. The devils of Hell cared only for their own true or false names, entirely indifferent to those of their victims. Therefore, Anbaixiu hadn't simply used an alias; he had employed illusion to make them believe he signed, when in reality his pen had never touched the paper. He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but ever since the Lady of Mists ascended to godhood, the effects of Leira's True Mirage seemed to have grown stronger. Anbaixiu had ensnared all the tieflings present in the illusion without expending much mana at all. *Rumor has it that after sleeping with the Goddess of Magic, mastery over every spell grows stronger. By that logic, if I were to sleep with the Lady of Mists... Tsk, a personal sacrifice in a time of need isn't out of the question.* Setting aside this noble thought of self-sacrifice for the moment, Anbaixiu walked into the border city of Blackgate City. Pedestrians were sparse on the streets, lending the city a rather desolate air. Anbaixiu headed straight for a tavern and stepped inside, only to find very few adventurers there as well. Recalling the devil's contract from earlier, Anbaixiu chuckled dryly. "Looks like quite a few people have already fallen into the trap. Hell must be making a fortune this time." Anbaixiu walked up to the bar and said to the barkeep, "Give me a glass of Midnight Liquid Fire." The barkeep asked in confusion, "Sir, I've never heard of that drink. Is it a specialty from somewhere else?" Having worked here for nearly a decade, he had truly never heard of such a drink. The tiefling barkeep looked at Anbaixiu skeptically. This patron looked so young—could he be the sort who visited a tavern for the first time and made up a drink name just to act sophisticated? Just as Anbaixiu was about to explain, an old man beside him spoke up: "One part blackthorn wine, one part malt ale, stirred with devil pepper powder—that's Midnight Liquid Fire. Only antique relics from centuries ago still enjoy drinking that." The barkeep blinked. The old man beside him was a regular at the tavern and unlikely to conspire with this youth to trick him. Following the old man's instructions, the barkeep set about mixing the Midnight Liquid Fire. Anbaixiu raised a finger, quietly unfurling a soundproofing ward, then turned toward the old man. "Vladimir?" The old man was none other than Mister Misfortune. From the look of it, he had been waiting here for Anbaixiu for quite some time. Mister Misfortune wore a cool, impassive expression. "I haven't heard that name in many years." Anbaixiu offered comfort: "It doesn't matter. Over the next few days, I can call you by it a few more times. Whenever you miss hearing it, just come find me. It's only a name—I won't charge you for it." Mister Misfortune glared at Anbaixiu. This lich's words were infuriating as always! "Didn't I tell you two months?! It's only been half a month and you're already here?! You bastard, can you never keep a promise?!" Anbaixiu chuckled. "Don't get so worked up. At your age, I really don't want to have to turn you into a lich. Still, for you to predict I would appear here while I sensed nothing at all... Senior Brother, you've finally surpassed me." Mister Misfortune scoffed, answering in exasperation, "I was always better than you! You cheated that time, or I would have been the one to win!" "Fine, fine, you win. Didn't I just come here to help you save the world anyway? This tiefling kingdom looks to be in deep trouble." Anbaixiu recounted what he had encountered at the teleportation array to Mister Misfortune, remarking with a sigh, "Signing contracts with devils—these tieflings are truly courting death. Do they have no fear of divine retribution from the gods?" Mister Misfortune sighed helplessly. "Yes, and that is precisely what I worry about." "A decision of this magnitude couldn't have been made by a single person. Did a majority of the Council of Iniquity actually agree to it?" Anbaixiu remembered that their Council of Iniquity held thirteen seats; surely more than half of them hadn't backed such a scheme? Mister Misfortune answered with resignation, "I don't know. I left the court a long time ago. They distrusted me from the start, so getting reliable information is difficult for me." When a divination wizard said he couldn't obtain definite information, it meant the Goddess of Fate forbade him from prying; otherwise, a simple divination would have yielded the answer. Anbaixiu naturally understood this principle, and instantly sensed how troublesome the situation was. "If Fate will not permit us an easy answer, then the answer carries enormous ramifications. Senior Brother, let me ask first: who originally proposed such an extreme measure?" "Domino Lawley. She is the oldest member of the Council of Iniquity, and a former Hellrider who returned from Hell. Over these past centuries, however, she changed her path to become an alchemist." "Domino Lawley? I know that name. She's quite famous—her name was near the very top of the list of distinguished scholars from the City of Alchemy. A Hellrider who became one of the Unholy Ones, and then switched to alchemy? That sounds a bit suspicious." Mister Misfortune shook his head. "I don't know. I cannot divine any information regarding her." Anbaixiu sighed. "Vladimir, while you have walked farther than me along the path of fate, you rely on that power far too much. Can't you use your head and think for yourself?" Mister Misfortune fell silent. Perhaps that was the price a divination wizard paid. When faced with a difficult problem, if the correct answer automatically floated into view before your eyes, what could you do besides copy it down? Mister Misfortune had tried solving problems through other methods, only to find time and again that his own ways were nowhere near as simple and direct as what fate revealed. Over centuries, this had hardened into habit. Once the Goddess of Fate ceased providing answers, he was left at a total loss. Anbaixiu didn't continue mocking his senior brother, simply asking, "Then what did you mean by two months?" Mister Misfortune said calmly, "It is the date I foresaw for Ryan's invasion." Anbaixiu nodded. His own guess had been close; those two months were the time he had bought, but that was the absolute limit. With Mister Misfortune's confirmation, Ryan's invasion was set in stone—an unalterable future. "Very well. Then let me resolve the tieflings' troubles within this month or so. At least before war breaks out, we won't need to worry about the tiefling kingdom falling into Hell." Mister Misfortune frowned. "Just by yourself? The Goddess of Fate won't even let me see the kingdom's future. Do you think you can manage it?" "Look at you, always thinking about copying the answers. I have my own methods." Perhaps it stemmed from their backgrounds. A noble like Mister Misfortune had never needed to worry about much since childhood; once he acquired the power of fate, he used it constantly, and because it always worked, he felt no pressure. Anbaixiu, on the other hand, had come from impoverished beginnings and weathered countless troubles. He understood that during an adventure, any kind of catastrophe could strike, so one could never possess too many skills. A jack-of-all-trades who knew a little of everything and had multiple contingencies for every problem was the only one who stayed safe. Mister Misfortune had no other recourse but to let Anbaixiu handle it, so he asked, "What do you need?" "First, I need all the intelligence on this Domino Lawley. Second, I need you to introduce me to the Council of Iniquity." Mister Misfortune nodded. "Very well. Tomorrow will do. I can arrange both matters for you." "Then it's settled." Smiling, Anbaixiu picked up his cup and took a gulp, tasting that long-missed fiery spice. Though the sensation was completely different when perceived through a soul, it still couldn't help but stir memories of the past. Mister Misfortune asked, "Why order Midnight Liquid Fire? Didn't you say that drink was painfully spicy?" "Because it was the very first drink you bought me. Back then, didn't you buy it just to play a prank on me? After all these years, I actually missed it a little." Anbaixiu finished the drink in his cup, then said to Mister Misfortune, "Senior Brother, thank you." Mister Misfortune looked puzzled. "Thank me for what?" "Thank you for saving Harvey. If you hadn't been waiting here for him, he couldn't have returned within a single day—he would have been dragged down to Hell long ago," Anbaixiu said. Since everyone entering the city had to sign the contract, Harvey had certainly signed it as well. That lad had likely failed to decipher the devil script and was tricked. It was all thanks to Mister Misfortune; otherwise, had Harvey lingered here for more than a day, he would have been claimed by Hell. Hearing this, Mister Misfortune fell silent for a long while before speaking: "In all my life, I never managed to find a suitable apprentice, yet a bastard like you somehow found such a genius disciple. I couldn't bear to see such a talent die like that either." With a touch of melancholy, Mister Misfortune added, "It seems that no matter how hard I strive, the Goddess of Fate still favors you the most."