Alan couldn't say what had come over him—upon learning critical intelligence, his first instinct had been to tell that lich.
It was somewhat absurd; he was a paladin, after all.
Still, Alan did not let himself get overly hung up on it. He knew Anbaixiu shared his goal: both wanted to stop this unjust war.
It was best to pass this crucial information along to the lich if possible.
The only problem was, how was he supposed to find him?
When Alan left back then, Anbaixiu hadn't given him a magic mirror. Alan had no idea where the lich even was right now.
Alan pondered for a moment, and an unscrupulous idea popped into his head. He muttered to himself, "That lich is a divination wizard who can foresee the future. If I curse him right now, will he sense it?"
"Whoa, Alan, you've gone bad. Can you still call yourself a paladin pulling tricks like that?"
The voice suddenly ringing in his ear gave Alan a fright. Without looking, he activated his legendary boon, blinking a hundred meters away, where he mistook a small sapling for a target and severed it in two.
Only after putting distance between them did Alan turn back, only to see Anbaixiu in human form, wearing the exact same face as when they first met.
Alan fumed, "You eavesdropped on me?!"
Anbaixiu chuckled. "I'm a lich. Isn't it only natural for an evil creature to eavesdrop? Whereas you, a paladin, talking behind someone's back—aren't you ashamed?"
Alan felt an intense sense of déjà vu. He had already fallen for this sort of moral blackmail once before.
However, today's Alan was no longer the green youth he once had been.
Alan retorted to Anbaixiu, "You're a lich and I'm a paladin. It's completely natural for me to curse you, wouldn't you say?"
Surprised, Anbaixiu said, "Look at you, getting sharper after just a few days apart. Truly worthy of a genius favored by the Lord of the Dawn—your wits are finally catching up."
Alan sensed mockery dripping from the praise; this lich was truly detestable.
"Seems there's no need for me to share intelligence with you then. Just how long have you been trailing behind me?" Alan asked.
Anbaixiu shook his head. "Not long. I just arrived, right in time to hear you getting ready to curse me."
Anbaixiu truly had just arrived. His sole reason for appearing here was to seek Alan out.
Regardless of whether Anbaixiu was telling the truth, Alan shared the intelligence he had gathered.
"Do you know that tieflings have come to Liuyan City? Someone inside the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn must want to negotiate with Ryan, though I don't know whether they represent the entire kingdom or just certain factions."
Hearing this, Anbaixiu didn't seem overly surprised. He surmised, "Someone among the Unholy Ones probably wants to surrender. Doesn't matter, because Ryan won't accept surrender. I'd wager that Iron-Blood General will agree on the surface, then turn around and exploit it to spark infighting among the tieflings, conquering the country all the more easily."
"You... guessed that just like that?"
A very strange feeling suddenly washed over Alan. The lich had merely heard him mention tieflings visiting Liuyan City, yet had reached this conclusion so swiftly?
While deducing it didn't sound difficult in hindsight—given some time, Alan could probably have figured it out too—the lich's mind worked frighteningly fast, not even taking a second. When Alan was swindled out of five thousand gold coins back then, it hadn't been premeditated; the moment the lich laid eyes on him, a plan to fleece him had likely already formed in his head.
This lich was simply too dangerous.
The look in Alan's eyes grew even more wary. Even though they shared the same goal right now, if a day ever came where they had to cross blades, he feared he'd be duped to death by this lich before he could even have an honorable duel.
Anbaixiu suddenly asked, "By the way, Alan, have you already found quite a few companions?"
Alan nodded. "By the grace of the Lord of the Dawn, there are indeed many who cannot accept Ryan as it is today. It's not a huge number, but like me, they want to change this empire."
Hearing this, Anbaixiu merely said calmly, "Then you'd better prepare yourself. Most of your companions are going to die today."
Shock washed over Alan's face. Forgetting his fear of the lich, he blinked back to Anbaixiu's side and asked agitatedly, "What did you say? They're going to die? What's going on?"
Anbaixiu patted Alan's shoulder. "Why get so worked up? What you're doing puts your head on the line to begin with—it's only normal that people die. I saw a prophecy: your companions will soon be overtaken by the Iron-Blood General. Calculating the timing, it should be right about now."
The moment Anbaixiu finished speaking, a thick pillar of Holy Light ignited in the distance, piercing straight into the heavens.
"There it is. Your companions have been caught," Anbaixiu said.
Alan had no time to interrogate Anbaixiu. He rushed toward where the Holy Light had erupted at top speed. Blinking repeatedly, he vanished from Anbaixiu's perception in the blink of an eye.
Anbaixiu, however, walked over at an unhurried pace, for fate had long since scripted Alan's role. No matter how hard he ran, the end result would be identical: among his companions, only one would survive.
"Alas, even the favor of the Lord of the Dawn cannot ward off the malice of the Goddess of Fate. Alan, if you can't endure this, there will be no hope left for Ryan."
Having sighed in lament, Anbaixiu cast an illusion once more and followed behind.
Meanwhile, at the site of the burst of Holy Light, most of Alan's companions had already fallen, leaving only two still standing.
Leading hundreds of formidable paladins, Rachel Angelo had Lorencos and Frodo surrounded on all sides.
Rachel Angelo's expression was terrifyingly dark. Lorencos had never seen him so enraged—not even when confronting vile monsters on the battlefield had he worn such a dreadful expression.
Rachel Angelo walked right up to Lorencos, ignoring the latter's drawn sword as he closed the distance step by step.
The point of the blade drew nearer and nearer to Rachel Angelo's chest, but the Iron-Blood General neither dodged nor parried. He met the blade directly with his chest, letting Lorencos's longsword slice through the fabric of his shirt and bite into his skin.
Blood welled and trickled down, staining Rachel Angelo's chest red.
Yet he seemed oblivious to it, merely glaring at Lorencos. "You've drawn your sword against me, Lorencos! Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine you would betray me one day. Why?! I demand an explanation!"
A bitter smile crossed Lorencos's aged face. "Rachel, the Empire is stepping into the abyss. Do you know that?"
"Spare me that nonsense! I'm asking you, why did you betray me?!"
Rachel Angelo furiously tore open the clothing over his chest. Aside from the fresh cut, there were crisscrossing scars. Pointing to a scar on his shoulder, he shouted, "Here—this is where I took a sword strike for you! That bugbear could cleave us in half, armor and all! Several brothers-in-arms had already been slaughtered by that monster before me, and it was I who blocked the killing blow for you!
"And here! That year when we ran into an orc slaving party! It was just the two of us against thirty orcs! This slash across my neck was also taken to save your life—otherwise you would have died long ago!
"And here, and here... Every single one of these scars came from fighting side by side with you! Lorencos, your body is covered in countless scars too, and you've saved me just as many times. Neither of us could ever tally who took more lethal blows for the other! What couldn't you have told me?! How could you betray me?! How could you do this to me?!"
Rachel Angelo's eyes burned crimson as he roared at Lorencos, looking as though he had succumbed entirely to madness.
A look of reminiscing flashed across Lorencos's face, but he soon regained his composure.
"Rachel, you ask me why... Do you remember the first time we went after cultists? To keep word from leaking, you killed that child—the little toddler biting his finger, not even reaching my knee."
Rachel Angelo shouted angrily, "They were cultists! Both his parents were cultists, and he was raised learning the language of fiends!"
Lorencos replied calmly, "No, that wasn't why. It was because we lacked experience back then. We should have infiltrated the cultists' temple and struck down that fiend directly, and those villagers might have been saved. We failed. We were discovered. You were afraid that child would cry out, so you chopped his head off before he could make a sound.
"And then came that child's parents, and his older sister... We were executioners. Oath of Vengeance, Oath of Conquest—we used our oaths to cloak everything, deceiving our own consciences."
Rachel Angelo retorted callously, "Yet we saved the other villagers! Many of them! Far more than the ones we killed!"
Lorencos sighed. "Rachel, you are always like this, cloaking your crimes in noble pretexts. You ask why I betrayed you. It is not that I betrayed you; rather, both of us have betrayed the Lord of the Dawn. Rachel, I am destined for Hell, and so are you."
Rachel Angelo gritted his teeth and reached out, gripping Lorencos's blade.
The blade failed to cut his palm, for intense Holy Light enveloped his hand. Crushing the longsword out of shape, Rachel Angelo demanded, "Lorencos, you think you're the enlightened one, yet my Holy Light burns stronger than yours! Stand down now and return with me. I will act as though none of this ever happened. No one will know of your betrayal, and both you and your son can live."
Shivering at the side, Frodo looked toward his father. He hadn't expected the notoriously ruthless Iron-Blood General to actually spare them. Frodo looked at his father pleadingly, hoping he would give up resisting.
At least they would live. As for whether they would go to Hell in the future, only the living had a chance to change things; if they died now, Hell was certain.
Yet Lorencos shook his head. "Rachel, my friend, grant me one final, fair duel."
"You fool! Lorencos, you have never been my match! You're courting death!"
Rachel Angelo spat a curse, but drew his sword all the same.
Powerful Holy Light enveloped Rachel Angelo's body, solidifying into a suit of dazzling, silver-white armor.
Six wings of light unfurled behind his back, lifting Rachel Angelo suspended into midair.
Rachel Angelo roared furiously at his old friend, "Lorencos, come and claim your death!"
Chapter 334