Fate was ever impossible to fathom.
Mister Misfortune had always believed himself favored by destiny. After all, most of his life had been smooth sailing.
Ever since becoming a divination wizard, he had lost only once.
For centuries, he had served as the shadow prime minister of the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn. On the surface, he was merely a court wizard, but in truth, nearly every proposal was reviewed and revised by his hand.
Through his tireless efforts, the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn had developed rapidly over these centuries, amassing vast wealth and seeing a tremendous population boom.
From the highest nobles to the common folk, everyone was immensely satisfied with Mister Misfortune.
Later, as Ryan grew increasingly overbearing, Mister Misfortune had chosen the safest and most prudent countermeasure. Not only did it shield the domestic economy and people's livelihoods from harm, but it also effectively held back Ryan's assaults.
Everything had been going so smoothly.
Since when had he lost sight of the kingdom's future?
Though countless threads of fate were woven before his eyes, Mister Misfortune could find nothing of the kingdom among them.
From that moment on, deep unease had taken root in his heart.
Yet strangely enough, the sight of Anbaixiu brought him a sense of peace. That bastard had possessed a knack for every scheme and underhanded trick imaginable back in the day. Entrusted to him, perhaps the kingdom truly could be saved.
Mister Misfortune wasted no time and immediately went to gather the intelligence Anbaixiu needed.
Meanwhile, Anbaixiu returned to his private sanctuary and began rummaging through rows of bookshelves.
He pulled down a dozen books on fiends, then summoned a swarm of Mage Hands. Each hand gripped a hefty tome, flipping through the pages one by one.
Anbaixiu expanded his perception, reading all dozen books simultaneously.
This was one of the perks of being a lich. Anbaixiu had no need to read with physical eyes; as long as his perception was sufficiently potent, he could process a massive influx of information at once.
As the pages flipped faster and faster, book after book was tossed back onto the shelves.
Finally, he placed one of the books before him and began to read it closely.
Only after a long while did Anbaixiu snap the book shut.
Every form of devil script possessed its own distinct qualities; originating from different masters, the shapes of the glyphs varied. From the book, he traced the origins of the infernal script and identified which hell lord had drafted the contract.
What troubled Anbaixiu, however, was that these contracts actually originated from two different hell lords: Tiamat and Zariel.
The Dragon Goddess Tiamat shared quite an ill-fated connection with Anbaixiu. He had never imagined that she would not only stir up trouble in the City of Alchemy and ally herself with Shar, but also plant a hidden hand among the tieflings.
The Dragon Goddess was not too big a problem. Anbaixiu was reasonably familiar with her, as over half the cults on the continent had some tie to her. Back during his adventuring days, he had dealt with these cults quite often and knew plenty about her methods.
Creating a half-dragon last time had already pushed Tiamat to her limit. With the dragons banished and the Cult of the Dragon virtually eradicated, it was exceedingly difficult for her power to reach this continent.
Most likely, there was merely one more follower of the Dragon Goddess among the tieflings, which would not be terribly difficult to handle.
The one who truly struck Anbaixiu as troublesome was Zariel. She was an angel who had dared to march upon Hell, only to fall and become an archdevil. As ruler of the First Layer of Hell, her standing far exceeded Tiamat's.
More importantly, Zariel loved collecting formidable warriors.
Over countless years, she had employed every conceivable method to claim the souls of powerful champions, dragging them down to Hell to serve as her vassals.
It was an exceptionally formidable army. Rumor had it that Zariel possessed the ability to dispatch the souls of these warriors back to the mortal realm, possessing her cultists or those who struck bargains with her.
This was terrifying: a grand army composed entirely of supreme powerhouses, trained for untold centuries in the brutal crucible of Hell.
Once this hellish legion emerged, it would spell a nation-destroying catastrophe.
"The Goddess Alliance keeps cropping up again and again, but without Shar acting as an inside mole this time, breaking it up is going to be tough. Since the contracts bear the marks of these two hell lords, the Gate of Hell on the border must be connected to them as well. Looks like the infiltration started long ago. Senior Brother, what in the world have you been guarding all this time? How could you miss something so critical?"
After muttering a few complaints about Mister Misfortune, Anbaixiu fell into deep thought.
Now Anbaixiu needed to solve two problems: first, preventing the entire kingdom from sinking into Hell; second, thwarting the impending invasion by Ryan.
By standard logic, the first step would be rooting out the traitor within the tiefling kingdom—the key figure conspiring with the hell lords. Based on current intelligence, that person was most likely Domino Lawley, the Hellrider.
Get rid of her, and perhaps they could stop the kingdom from falling into Hell.
In practice, however, pulling that off was virtually impossible. After so many years, their scheme was undoubtedly already well underway. Unquestionably, the Gate of Hell on the border was part of the plot, and his poor senior brother was merely one of the pawns being used.
If the Gate of Hell at the border was tied to the overall descent into Hell, they could not allow it to detonate; doing so would only play right into the devils' hands.
Yet without the Gate of Hell acting as a barrier, who could withstand Ryan's advance?
Anbaixiu absolutely could not allow Ryan to conquer this tiefling land. Otherwise, Ryan's overall might would skyrocket yet again—and how could anyone fight them then?
Which meant that unmasking the traitor was no longer the crux of the matter.
"I still have to dig out the details of the hell lords' plan before applying the right remedy."
Anbaixiu began scribbling and sketching across a stack of draft parchment. Whenever a major affair arose, he would always draft extensively first, calculating every contingency before formulating an actual plan.
A day passed, and Mister Misfortune delivered a dossier on Domino Lawley. The details were remarkably thorough, starting from her childhood all the way to the present day, even cataloging her daily routine.
Anbaixiu asked in astonishment, "How is it this detailed? Did you prepare this in advance?"
Mister Misfortune's expression turned a bit peculiar. Changing the subject, he said, "Never mind how I got it. Just read it. I guarantee it's authentic."
Anbaixiu stared at Mister Misfortune for a moment, and a possibility crossed his mind. Could this old fellow harbor a secret crush on the Hellrider? Had he discovered something wrong with her, only to painfully abandon years of unspoken affection?
Anbaixiu was sorely tempted to pry into the gossip, but judging by Mister Misfortune's face, he wouldn't answer anyway. Resigned, Anbaixiu made the most of his time and dove into the documents.
The contents were voluminous and trivial, but Anbaixiu searched with purpose, quickly uncovering the information he sought.
By dawn the following day, Anbaixiu said to Mister Misfortune, "That should do it. I've figured out how to extract Domino Lawley's entire plan. Can you introduce me to her? How about today?"
Mister Misfortune looked at him with skepticism. "Isn't that a bit ridiculous? I've been wrestling with this for years to no avail, and you found a way in a single night? You aren't conning me, are you?!"
"How could I? Am I that sort of person..." Anbaixiu reflexively protested, but catching Mister Misfortune's mocking glare, he amended, "Even if I tricked you back then, that was only that one time. Rest assured, I walked away from multi-billion-gold businesses just to come here and help—not to screw you over."
Though Mister Misfortune remained somewhat doubtful, with Anbaixiu putting it that way, he could only nod in agreement.
"I can bring you to see her, but I can only get you in front of her. The moment she spots me, she might summon the guards right away. Are you sure about this?"
Anbaixiu nodded. "Don't worry, just getting me before her is enough. Your notes mention she enjoys afternoon tea every day, followed by an hour-long nap. Let's pick that time."
"Fine. Follow me."
Mister Misfortune led Anbaixiu toward the teleportation array. The surrounding soldiers treated the pair as though they were completely invisible.
Once again, Mister Misfortune had severed the threads of fate, granting them unhindered passage.
Anbaixiu said with genuine marvel, "This trick of yours truly beats mine. I could never master it."
"Of course. It might be the only thing I'm better at than you," Mister Misfortune remarked wistfully.
"Don't sell yourself short. You're older than me, after all—you've lived longer than I have."
Mister Misfortune glared at Anbaixiu, then activated the teleportation array. Traversing hundreds of kilometers, the two materialized in another city.
Melodious music drifted through the air. This was the royal capital of the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn—the City of Harmony—where city ensembles sang hymns day and night to the great Arthur Ryan.
Though unholy beings who had usurped power, they still sang hymns to the hero—such was the meaning behind the kingdom's name.
Chapter 312