Why Didn't He Confess Sooner?

The magic mirror shut down, bringing an end to the communication with the Council of Iniquity. Although the group of tieflings had not agreed on the spot, Anbaixiu knew they could not afford to wait. Once they were cast into Hell, their worldly riches would become entirely worthless. Offering them a chance to cash out now—even if the hell lords would not commute their punishments because of it—was vastly better than letting every last coin go to waste. This was especially true for Sadio Luce. The man was extraordinarily wealthy and had almost failed to restrain himself from agreeing immediately. One thousand gold coins for a single soul coin. If all 1.5 million soul coins could be traded away, Anbaixiu would truly make the largest fortune of his entire life. Still, it was unlikely that the entire Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn possessed that much liquid cash, so quite a few would probably choose to settle their debts with goods and property. When that time came, Anbaixiu would become the Unholy Hymn's greatest landowner and biggest capitalist. Just thinking about it filled him with excitement! Seeing Anbaixiu practically dancing with joy, Mister Misfortune could not help but remark, "You truly are the same bastard you were back then. Those 1.5 million soul coins are clearly meant to be paid to Tiamat. When they arrive in Hell and Tiamat confiscates all their soul coins right off the bat, they will despise you to death." Anbaixiu chuckled. "Then let them despise me. I'm a lich—if I don't commit a little villainy, how could I ever live up to my station?" During their negotiations, Anbaixiu had specifically told Tiamat that the 1.5 million soul coins could be delivered via a method of his choosing, and he had even laid out this swindling scheme directly to Tiamat and Zariel. The two hell lords had readily agreed to pull off the scam alongside Anbaixiu. The reason was simple: hell lords loved nothing more than watching others writhe in pain and despair. Souls drenched in such torment were far more valuable. When these tieflings sought vengeance only to find that their true tormentors were two hell lords, the looks on their faces were bound to be spectacular. What a shame, though. Anbaixiu would not be able to witness this magnificent spectacle of complainants bringing charges before the very judge who had wronged them. Watching Anbaixiu effortlessly line his pockets with the Unholy Hymn's vast wealth, Mister Misfortune could not help but sigh with emotion. "If you had stayed here back then to help me, the Unholy Hymn probably wouldn't have fallen to where it is today." Anbaixiu shook his head. "If I had stayed here to help you, you might very well have been plotting how to send me to Hell instead. You don't honestly think I'm any better than these Unholy Ones, do you? To tell you the truth, when it comes to having a black heart, they still lag far behind me." Mister Misfortune laughed. "Stop deceiving yourself. Everything you do as a lich ends up saving the world. I wouldn't even be surprised if the Lord of the Dawn bestowed a blessing upon you one day." Anbaixiu could only roll his eyes. He truly had a knack for touching sore spots. If only the Lord of the Dawn had favored him sooner, he wouldn't have been forced to become a lich in the first place. Back when Arthur Ryan had dragged him into praying to the Lord of the Dawn, Anbaixiu had been genuinely terrified. Elemental and divine oppositions were not easily overcome. The moment the Lord of the Dawn cast a single glance at him, that divine power would instantly vaporize him. It wasn't a matter of whether the deity harbored malice; the two natures simply could not coexist. Unless there was some way for Anbaixiu to become immune to the Holy Light. Yet even the magitech frame he had constructed was not immune to the Holy Light. Bound with skeletal corpse attributes and dark magic, it was undeniably undead—thoroughly vulnerable to the Holy Light. At most, the necromantic metal could endure the light's radiance a bit longer, but the agonizing pain wouldn't be lessened in the slightest. If he truly wished to wield the power of the Holy Light, Anbaixiu had only one path: transforming into a race such as a heroic spirit or a holy spirit. However, such a transformation demanded pure, unyielding conviction. With Anbaixiu's mindset of only believing in whoever offered benefits, his only path was down to Hell; he could forget all about becoming a heroic spirit. Faced with such an insoluble dilemma, Anbaixiu put it out of his mind and focused on the tasks immediately at hand. He asked Mister Misfortune, "How are your preparations going? How much longer will it take to finish?" "Rest assured. I'm more anxious than you are. When the time comes... it will be done." With those words, Mister Misfortune closed his eyes. Countless threads of fate manifested before him, his hands continuously brushing across the strands. This was not Anbaixiu's path, so he could only grasp the rough outline. Only Mister Misfortune himself knew the precise workings and effects. Still, since destiny had been set, everything ought to proceed smoothly. Anbaixiu set to work as well. His current task was to churn out those 1.5 million soul coins. The time remaining in the mortal realm was certainly insufficient, so he could only use his demiplane to accelerate the flow of time. With a ratio of one day outside to one year inside, Anbaixiu operated at full throttle to mass-produce the soul coins. In Anbaixiu's craft, the more functions a soul possessed, the more painstaking it was to manufacture. For instance, a soul tailored for a common skeleton warrior needed the faculties to balance its body, run, jump, wield a weapon, and detect enemies. While these abilities seemed ordinary and were possessed by every standard soul, weaving them together was quite troublesome. However, for specialized souls—such as those inside the street-sweeping skeletons Anbaixiu made—all they required was the ability to swing their arms. They did not even need a sense of balance, because another skeleton was solely tasked with pushing the sweeper forward. The simpler and more singular the function, the easier and cheaper it was to manufacture. A blank slate of a soul that lacked any function whatsoever and merely existed as an undead husk was cheaper than a human slave. Moreover, the Archdukes of Hell who demanded these soul coins hardly cared whether the souls inside could fight or cook; what they cared about were the emotions contained within. To put it simply, emotional value was far more important. Anbaixiu could create an unyielding soul, but it would merely possess an indomitable temperament. Shoved into a skeletal body, it wouldn't even be able to crawl, yet it would still thrash about with fierce determination. Such souls were dirt cheap and remarkably easy to fabricate. This was precisely why Anbaixiu had dared to agree to Tiamat's price of 1.5 million. Had they been complete souls, he wouldn't have been able to fulfill the order even if given a decade. One after another, stacks of soul coins piled into miniature mountains before Anbaixiu. They contained not only unyielding spirits, but also malice, rage, and hatred—the more extreme the emotions, the more the hell lords favored them. Though they were counterfeit coins, as long as they were crafted to look more genuine than the real thing, the fakes became authentic. Anbaixiu worked day and night without pause. The materials stored inside the demiplane were soon largely depleted. These had all been gathered for him by Mister Misfortune earlier, but the consumption rate had surpassed their expectations. Just as Anbaixiu was preparing to restock his materials, the tiefling nobles finally sent their reply. To Anbaixiu, several years had already slipped by, but to those tieflings, merely a few days had passed. During those few days, they had not only debated whether to cooperate, but had also scrambled to raise the funds. One thousand gold coins for a single soul coin was a terrifyingly exorbitant price. Yet under the threat of damnation to Hell, mortal wealth became utterly trivial. Once one was cast into Hell, what purpose did shops and estates serve? However, liquidating such assets within just a few days was no easy feat. It took the thirteen Unholy Ones several days just to scrape together two hundred million gold coins, completely emptying the national treasury in the process—enough to purchase only two hundred thousand soul coins. Speaking across the magic mirror, Anbaixiu said to the Unholy Ones, "You people are rather poor, aren't you? A whole kingdom, and you could only squeeze out this much gold?" Domino Lawley suppressed her simmering fury. "Do you think everything revolves around pure gold? In running a kingdom, gold is merely used to stabilize commodity prices!" "Is that so? I've never governed a country, so I wouldn't know. Though it isn't much, we can proceed with this initial transaction. I will give you a coordinate. Deliver the gold there and take your soul coins." Anbaixiu relayed his location to the group of tieflings and then opened an entrance to his demiplane. The location was set right inside the tieflings' royal capital. This took the tieflings aback; they hadn't expected Anbaixiu to be bold enough to collect the money directly on their home turf. Sadio Luce ground his teeth. "Arrogant brat! Does he truly take us for useless trash?" Among the two hundred million in cash, he had contributed the lion's share, shelling out nearly fifty million gold coins on his own. Given a few more days, he could have hauled in another hundred million. Handing it over just like that left Sadio Luce deeply resentful; it was clear as day that Anbaixiu was mercilessly fleecing them. "I think we should try to seize those soul coins by force. No matter how powerful he is, he is only one man," Sadio Luce suggested. The other Unholy Ones voiced their agreement. Had the trade taken place somewhere else, an ambush would have been a concern. But this was right under their noses, within their own royal capital! Could there possibly be an ambush they didn't know about? As long as they dispatched enough elite forces to butcher this brat, wouldn't every last soul coin fall into their hands without paying a single copper? Even if they couldn't take this gold with them to Hell, throwing it away was better than letting that kid profit from it. Just as the Unholy Ones were preparing to turn hostile, Domino Lawley voiced staunch opposition. "There is one thing I forgot to mention to you all: Master Tiga Ultraman is a lich. We might be able to kill him, but can you find his phylactery?" Her words plunged everyone into dead silence. A lich... That truly left them powerless. Everyone knew liches were the hardest creatures to permanently destroy. If they failed to wipe him out, the entire trade would fall through. Without those soul coins, how were they going to ransom their lives once they were cast into Hell? Looking at her silenced companions, Domino Lawley finally breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, the mere mention of his lich status had been enough to deter them from backstabbing him; that spared her from having to explain the terrifying nature of a divination wizard. Only someone who had personally experienced the power of fate could understand how helpless mortals were before such majestic might. It was no wonder that Zariel and Tiamat were willing to trade an entire kingdom for a single legendary divination wizard. All the tieflings of the Unholy Hymn combined were not as important as Mister Misfortune. Regret gnawed fiercely at Domino Lawley's heart. Had she known earlier that Mister Misfortune had fallen in love with her, she could have used his affection to her advantage, and matters would never have escalated to this point! But why on earth hadn't that damned, gutless coward confessed his feelings sooner?! With all thoughts of foul play abandoned, the Council of Iniquity immediately ordered their men to deliver the gold coins to the designated location. Two hundred million gold coins were exchanged for two hundred thousand soul coins. Fortunately, the other party had not engaged in forgery; every soul coin was of exceptional quality. Meanwhile, within his demiplane, Anbaixiu summoned the Golden Throne, pulling the mountainous hoard of gold coins into its swirling vortex. With this massive replenishment of gold, he should be well equipped to handle the grand spectacle that lay ahead. Now, all that remained was to wait for Ryan to launch its assault.