Anbaixiu's power over fate was to collapse countless possibilities into one, artificially locking fate into a single outcome.
Mister Misfortune's ability was to screen out one of the myriad possibilities, ensuring that particular outcome could never be reached.
Thus, when Anbaixiu divined, he liked to offer a few options and let fate make the choice for him. When Mister Misfortune divined, he turned the myriad possibilities into threads, letting fate snip away until only the final one remained.
Though their results appeared identical on the surface, their essence was entirely different.
Despite having been apart for centuries, the two worked together with the seamless synergy of having practiced tens of millions of times. The threads of fate annihilated one by one, and the Dice of Fate stopped spinning one after another. All possibilities converged, countless visions rising and falling until the scene finally froze into place.
It was a shocking, terrifying vision.
An unfathomably massive silvery-white dragon soared across the sky, while down below marched an endless legion of paladins.
Mister Misfortune said in astonishment, "A Ryan invasion? Isn't that something we already knew?"
Anbaixiu was also puzzled. How had their joint divination produced such a scene? An invasion was already common knowledge... Still, that colossal time dragon was rather intimidating; it had to be what the Dragon Tyrant Armament looked like when unleashed.
No wonder it was Ryan's national treasure artifact. Its imposing majesty was unmistakable—a single blast of temporal dragon breath would lay waste to an entire city.
But what did this vision signify?
Both Anbaixiu and Mister Misfortune sank into deep contemplation. They had arrived at the most crucial phase of divination: interpretation.
Countless divination wizards had stumbled and fallen at this very step; a single misinterpretation could lead to catastrophic consequences.
After pondering the vision for a long while, Mister Misfortune spoke first. "There's something off about this image. I recognize that peak—it's already within the borders of the Unholy Hymn. That means the Ryan soldiers have marched right up to our doorstep."
Anbaixiu reacted at once. "The Gates of Hell! The Gates of Hell are gone!"
The borders of the Unholy Hymn were lined with Gates of Hell. If Ryan attacked, the skies and earth should have been swarming with an overwhelming army of devils. Why was it completely deserted?
In other words, by the time Ryan invaded, the issue of the Gates of Hell had been completely resolved.
"Did we solve the problem of the Gates of Hell?" Anbaixiu asked, puzzled.
Mister Misfortune rolled his eyes. "Seventy-eight Gates of Hell—how could you solve that? Built with the entire kingdom's resources, what way could we possibly have to resolve them?"
This was a massive endeavor tied to the kingdom's very destiny, operational for so many years. How could one or two legends hope to resolve it?
Once constructed, these Gates of Hell existed in an ethereal state, virtually immune to all attacks and entirely impervious to external interference until actively opened. And once opened, hordes of infernal monsters would pour out in an instant, leaving no time to destroy them.
If there were only one or two, they might figure something out, grit their teeth, and tear them down once opened; working together, they would stand a slight chance.
But seventy-eight... The mere thought was terrifying. Even if they worked themselves to the bone, they couldn't deal with them all.
Anbaixiu was also taken aback. Seventy-eight Gates of Hell—these tieflings were truly playing with fire. One misstep and total annihilation would follow.
Yet Anbaixiu did not lose heart, for the divination had already proven that the Gates of Hell were gone. In other words, this outcome was certain to happen; they merely had to determine how it was done, and who did it.
Anbaixiu pondered for a moment before saying to Mister Misfortune, "Since the two of us can't do it, then it wasn't our doing. We should look at it from this angle: find the party capable of dealing with these Gates of Hell, and the whole story should fall into place. Does the Council of Iniquity have a way to dismantle these Gates of Hell all at once?"
Mister Misfortune shook his head. "No. From the beginning, we never planned on dismantling them. Either Ryan attacked and we fought to mutual destruction, or we used these Gates of Hell to guard our borders until Ryan declined or our Unholy Hymn collapsed on its own."
Anbaixiu sighed. "If it wasn't the Council of Iniquity, and it wasn't you or me... once you eliminate all the impossibilities, only one answer remains."
Mister Misfortune frowned. "The Ryan Empire?"
Anbaixiu nodded. "Exactly. Ryan found a way to eliminate these Gates of Hell, which is why they mustered an army to invade. Although I don't know how they pulled it off, it's the only possibility left. It's not like a deity stepped in."
Mister Misfortune felt Anbaixiu's deduction was reasonable, but that wasn't what worried him.
"Arthas, what we set out to find was the contract signed between Zariel and Domino Lawley. What good does it do now to know Ryan can deal with the Gates of Hell? We should be deducing the terms of the contract from this vision."
Anbaixiu shook his head. "No need. Chasing details is pointless. We already know Domino Lawley used the entire Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn as collateral and tricked the Council of Iniquity into signing this contract. All their subsequent actions have been aimed at fulfilling the contract. Without a doubt, the Gates of Hell are part of the terms.
"Building the Gates of Hell was likely a condition Zariel imposed on Domino Lawley. The current number isn't enough, which is why Domino Lawley is pushing plans to build even more. So until the quota of Gates of Hell is reached, the contract won't take effect. And if Ryan can eliminate these Gates of Hell, Zariel's plan will very likely fall apart."
Mister Misfortune was far less composed than Anbaixiu. This was his homeland, the place where he had been born and lived for centuries. When personal care was at stake, one's mind became clouded; Mister Misfortune could not take things as lightly as Anbaixiu did.
He countered, "If we can't confirm their plan, how do you know the disappearance of the Gates of Hell isn't part of it? What if the contract requires them to protect these gates?"
"Heh, that's where you don't understand. Devil contracts may be treacherous traps, but it depends on the stakes. Zariel wants the entire Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn. For a prize that massive, if she tried to pull cheap underhanded tricks in the clauses, Ao would never allow it. The bigger the gamble, the fairer an infernal contract must be.
"To corrupt a single mortal, all you need is to get him drunk and press his thumbprint. But dragging an entire kingdom into Hell demands an equivalent sacrifice. Whether the thirteen members of the council signed under duress or through temptation, both sides' contributions must be equivalent to a certain degree. Otherwise, Ao would swat Zariel dead with a single slap. How could building and protecting Gates of Hell ever equate to the value of an entire kingdom? Think about it—it's impossible."
Mister Misfortune had never studied the behavioral patterns of devils and couldn't tell whether Anbaixiu was speaking the truth, but he could only trust Anbaixiu's judgment for now. The lich wouldn't deceive him on this matter.
Frowning in thought, Mister Misfortune murmured to himself, "A price equivalent to an entire kingdom... the Gates of Hell... Ryan..."
After muttering for a moment, Mister Misfortune's eyes suddenly went wide. He looked at Anbaixiu and said, "Could the price Zariel offered be... defending the Unholy Hymn?"
Anbaixiu paused, but quickly grasped Mister Misfortune's meaning.
"You mean Zariel is using these Gates of Hell to repel Ryan's invasion, which amounts to helping the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn avert total destruction? Saving a kingdom, and thereby claiming that kingdom... That's a very reasonable deduction. Senior Brother, you really are something—to have figured that out."
Mister Misfortune showed no sign of pride. He said to Anbaixiu, "That is because this kingdom is more important to me than anything else. In your eyes, it carries virtually no weight."
Only someone who understood the kingdom's true value could guess what price Zariel was willing to pay. Anbaixiu was ultimately an outsider and naturally less attuned to it than Mister Misfortune.
Following Mister Misfortune's line of reasoning, Anbaixiu extrapolated, "Then that means if Ryan neutralizes the Gates of Hell and Zariel fails to protect the Unholy Hymn, the contract will automatically become void. But here lies the problem: without the Gates of Hell, how will the tieflings resist Ryan's paladin army?"
If Zariel helped fend off Ryan, the Unholy Hymn would fall into Hell. If Zariel failed to hold off Ryan, the tieflings' kingdom would be wiped out, and most of the dead tieflings would still fall into Hell... Whichever way it went, Zariel came out on top.
Truly worthy of a hell lord—conducting business where the profits were practically free for the taking.
Yet Mister Misfortune suddenly spoke with newfound confidence: "I see now! All we need to do is stop Ryan's offensive after the Ryan soldiers deal with the Gates of Hell."
Anbaixiu asked, "Don't just parrot my words. Do you actually have a plan?"
"Not yet, but... at least we can fight for it. Wars between kingdoms are not decided so easily. Even if Ryan launches a full-scale assault, how many years would it take them to completely crush this kingdom? Back then, it took them so many years to achieve victory against the dwarves! As long as we can hold out, a turning point will surely come!"
That was indeed an option: sacrifice a few border cities, employ scorched-earth tactics, and defend city by city to gradually wear down the paladins' strength.
Surrounded by enemies on all sides, Ryan's neighbors wouldn't necessarily sit idly by as long as the war wasn't completely one-sided.
If the dwarves and orcs took the opportunity to counterattack, Ryan might not even be able to withstand it.
One had to admit, Mister Misfortune's idea did carry a certain chance of success.
"Enough talk. I must go make preparations for war. The disappearance of the Gates of Hell will surely throw the kingdom into panic. If we don't prepare beforehand, our army will collapse at the first touch."
Mister Misfortune hurried out of Anbaixiu's private space.
Anbaixiu didn't stop him. Mister Misfortune's mind was already in turmoil; he was in no state to discuss the second issue.
They had figured out Zariel's contract, but what about the contract involving that other hell lord?
When Anbaixiu first entered the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn, the tiefling guarding the teleportation array had made him sign an infernal contract. It bore not only the runes of Zariel, but also the runes of Tiamat, Goddess of Evil Dragons.
In this grand transaction, what role did Tiamat play, and what hidden trap had she laid?
This question was something Anbaixiu would have to puzzle out on his own. Fate had granted him a discount, letting him glimpse a fragment of the future; he couldn't foolishly perform a second divination, or he really would get slapped by the Goddess of Fate.
Yet he had zero leads at the moment. When it came to matters concerning deities, one could only consult another deity.
Anbaixiu stroked his chin in thought, struck by a very risky idea.
*Why not... ask Shar?*
Chapter 316