When Alan saw Anbaixiu, he was completely stunned.
How could he run into that lich here of all places? Hadn't he gone off to plague the elves of the Silvermoon High Court?
Could it be that he had already swindled the elves into bankruptcy, so now he had set his sights on Ryan's storehouses? Had he given up scamming and turned to outright thievery?
Anbaixiu was just as astonished. How on earth had this boy broken in from outside? The city's defensive magic array wasn't designed only to keep out liches. Ryan's enemies weren't just the undead; at times, even certain humans were counted among their foes.
The two remained silent for a moment. Then Anbaixiu opened his private pocket dimension and said to Alan, "Patrols will be passing through here soon. Let's talk inside!"
Alan hesitated for a second, then followed Anbaixiu into the spatial rift.
Stepping into Anbaixiu's private space, Alan found the situation almost comical. Why did he place so much trust in this lich, while sneaking into a city belonging to Ryan felt like skulking about in terror of discovery?
The world truly had changed far too fast.
Anbaixiu didn't bother with courtesies, not even pouring him a cup of tea. He cut straight to the point: "What are you doing sneaking into Liuyan City? You're practically a Ryan fugitive right now. Aren't you afraid of getting caught and having your treason confirmed?"
Alan sighed helplessly. "I heard Ryan is marching on Unholy Hymn. If those Hellgates are detonated, it won't just be the people of Ryan who suffer—the entire continent will be contaminated by the stench of Hell. I can't just stand by and do nothing. That's why I came here to stop Ryan from sending out its army."
"By yourself?"
Anbaixiu wasn't looking down on Alan, but Ryan was a terrifying colossus; Anbaixiu himself didn't dare claim he could settle this. Perhaps only if the Elegy Poetry Society assembled once more could Liuyan City be torn apart. Though the kid seemed to have grown considerably, he was hardly capable of turning the tide alone.
Alan didn't take Anbaixiu's mockery to heart, replying calmly, "I know I can't achieve much alone, but I can't just do nothing simply because it's futile."
"So what's your plan?" Anbaixiu asked, intrigued.
"Burn their granaries, sabotage their equipment. At the very least, it can buy some time," Alan said.
"A crude and blunt method indeed. I won't say it's ineffective, but you know Ryan's logistical prowess. Whatever goes missing will be replenished in just a few days."
Ryan had reaped the dividends of faith for over a thousand years. Regardless of whether they had grown increasingly extreme, Arthur Ryan had set a pristine precedent; nobles and commoners alike took pride in sacrifice and devotion. Outsiders rarely heard of any Ryan noble committing a crime out of greed, though they often heard of nobles being excessively harsh toward their descendants, forcing naturally frail children into the military and sparking all manner of family tragedies.
Those below followed the lead of those above. Ryan's fanaticism regarding military matters had yielded centuries of unbroken triumph, and their stockpiles of war materiel were boundless.
Never mind losing a single storehouse—even burning ten of them wouldn't matter much. Supplies would be ferried incessantly from the rear through teleportation arrays, with zero regard for cost.
Furthermore, Anbaixiu had already seen visions of Ryan's assault, which was why he hadn't bothered setting a fire either; it was basically a waste of effort.
Alan was well aware of this, yet aside from arson, he couldn't think of any other way to halt the war.
"So, you're determined to stop this war? No matter the sacrifice?" Anbaixiu asked.
Alan nodded, his tone resolute. "This is an unjust war. We have no cause to invade Unholy Hymn. Back when I was still within Ryan's borders, I felt a fog blinding my eyes. After wandering the land for so long, I can finally view matters from a truly impartial perspective.
"Without question, every war Ryan has launched over the past five hundred years has been unjust. My mentor saw this truth long ago, but for some reason, he never resisted, not even to his dying day."
Anbaixiu knew Alan was referring to the Silvermoon Knight, the most renowned paladin after Arthur Ryan.
"That was because the Silvermoon Knight was just like your father. Neither of them knew how to change this empire. They were both figures of immense power and standing; the moment they came into fierce conflict with the empire, it would tear the nation apart. Who knew how many people would die then? They didn't dare make that choice—or rather, their hearts couldn't bear it. So, they could only play the tinker, giving their own lives to mend whatever tear appeared in the empire's fabric.
"Alan, you are different. The responsibilities on your shoulders were originally lighter than theirs, so your departure from Ryan wouldn't cause major turmoil. But by that same token, your prestige cannot compare to the Silvermoon Knight or the Supreme Arbiter. If you wish to change Ryan, the resistance you face will be far greater."
For that very reason, Anbaixiu had always believed that the key to reform lay with Alan, not his father. The older generation had fused inextricably with the ossified empire, leaving them utterly paralyzed.
Alan's ability to leave Ryan and see the true world was precisely what would allow him to change Ryan in the future.
Only, he was still far too young right now.
Alan grew thoughtful after hearing Anbaixiu's words. He hadn't expected the lich to make so much sense. In the past, he had viewed Anbaixiu merely as a dreadful fraud, but the lich was surprisingly insightful; these were truths Alan had only vaguely sensed before, yet had never been able to articulate so precisely.
Alan's perception of Anbaixiu shifted slightly, and he couldn't help asking, "Then why are you here?"
Anbaixiu replied, "Same as you—to stop Ryan from invading Unholy Hymn. Only it seems there's no way to do that now."
"Huh?"
Alan never would have guessed Anbaixiu would give such an answer. A lich trying to prevent a war? No matter how one looked at it, it seemed wrong, utterly contrary to the stance of an undead lich.
"What are you 'huh'-ing about? Haven't I done this sort of thing before? Ryan even sent me a commendation for it."
Only then did Alan recall that Anbaixiu truly had prevented a war between the elves and dwarves, though to this day outsiders still had no clue how he had pulled it off. Alan couldn't resist asking, "Master Ultraman, forgive me for prying, but... is your greed just an act? Is world peace your actual undead obsession?"
Anbaixiu: "..."
This misunderstanding was getting truly ridiculous.
Still, with Alan bringing the topic up, Anbaixiu decided he might as well summon another predecessor who was genuinely fond of saving the world.
"Alan, come with me. Let me show you something exciting."
Alan frowned. That sounded rather bizarre. He couldn't help recalling their very first meeting, when the lich had conned him out of five thousand gold coins within three sentences. Was he planning to swindle his money again?
Yet Alan quickly relaxed. He didn't have a single coin to his name right now anyway, so what was there to fear?
Having reassured himself, Alan boldly followed behind Anbaixiu.
Before long, Anbaixiu led him before an hourglass radiating Holy Light.
"Is this... an artifact?"
Alan could sense the potent Holy Light emanating from the hourglass, much like the artifacts he had seen in the Ryan Imperial Capital.
Anbaixiu chuckled, saying with utter solemnity, "You'd better brace yourself. Try not to get frightened out of your wits."
Alan replied confidently, "I'm no longer the naive boy I once was. In all my travels across the continent lately, what haven't I seen? An artifact won't scare me."
"Very well, I like your confidence." Anbaixiu rubbed his fingers together, crushing wisps of soul aura between them that dissolved into threads and sank into the hourglass. "Your Majesty, Holy King, this young man has fallen into confusion and requires your guidance."
A silvery-white heroic spirit slowly materialized above the hourglass.
Alan had already frozen when Anbaixiu uttered the words "Holy King, Your Majesty," and the moment he laid eyes on the heroic spirit of Arthur Ryan, he was struck completely dumb.
Only after several seconds did Alan let out a shrill scream like a little child: "Aaaah! Your Majesty! I... you... he... Father..."
In the heart of every person from Ryan, there was an idol, and that was Arthur Ryan. Alan was so overwhelmed with excitement that his speech crumbled into incoherence, and he didn't even know where to place his hands.
It never crossed Alan's mind that the heroic spirit before him might be an imposter, for the Holy Light it commanded was breathtakingly pure. Alan recognized it at a glance—it was Holy Light on par with that of his mentor, the Silvermoon Knight. That could never be faked.
Arthur Ryan, as always, carried no arrogant airs. He greeted Alan amiably, comforting the startled youth.
"Don't be nervous. I am not the true Arthur Ryan, merely a heroic spirit that inherited a portion of his memories. You don't need to treat me as that great emperor."
Anbaixiu chimed in at once, "Your Majesty, this Alan Watson is a young man who has recently defected from Ryan. Disillusioned with the empire, he now wishes to launch a rebellion, so I invited you out to give him some advice."
Anbaixiu had almost forgotten this exalted figure. When it came to rebellion, who understood it better than Arthur Ryan? Although this heroic spirit possessed only early memories, Arthur Ryan had already been the hero raising the banner of revolt against a tyrant back then; at most, he lacked a bit of statecraft experience, but his rebellion experience was more than sufficient.
Hearing this, Alan was so terrified he nearly drew his blade to cut Anbaixiu down. He hurriedly explained, "Your Majesty, that's not true! Don't listen to this lich's nonsense! I never thought of rebelling! I really haven't!"
Alan didn't even have time to ask about the heroic spirit's origins, frantic only to clear his name.
Arthur Ryan smiled gently. "Alan, as I said, there's no need to be nervous. I'm not here to scold you. Your surname is Watson—is James Watson your father?"
Alan hastened to reply, "Yes, he is Ryan's current Supreme Arbiter. Raised on my father's teachings from youth, I could never commit an act of betrayal against the empire."
Anbaixiu casually added, "Just a moment ago you wanted to burn down Ryan's armory and granaries."
"Th-that's... I... well..." Alan fumed at Anbaixiu, "Despicable lich, I challenge you to a duel!"
Alan couldn't bear being slandered before his idol, yet for the life of him he couldn't figure out how to explain himself in the moment.
Arthur Ryan said to Anbaixiu, "Enough. You're several centuries older than him—aren't you ashamed of constantly bullying a child?"
Anbaixiu gave a low chuckle. "I'm only testing him. If he doesn't even dare acknowledge his own heart, what could you possibly teach him? In your day, the Demonic Dragon Tyrant was the orthodox ruler of the world. You chose to rebel against that orthodoxy, rallying everyone's strength to rise in revolt. Now, Ryan is the orthodoxy. If Alan loses his conviction just because he's standing before you, he has no right to inherit your legacy."
Arthur Ryan had no retort. Harsh though Anbaixiu's words were, they rang true.
A champion who opposed a tyrant could not waver in his convictions simply upon meeting a predecessor.
Arthur Ryan turned to Alan. "Young man, answer me honestly: do you believe the Ryan of today is still worthy of your allegiance?"
Chapter 325