"Hmm, miniaturizing the jet propulsion engine works even better in water. Carving wood takes too much time, so let's custom-order a simple metal casing. But two jet engines is still too wasteful—one is enough. The propulsion is already sufficient, no need to reinforce it. Add a test tube of air undead... On second thought, let's not make it biomimetic at all; undead are especially easy to sense anyway."
Anbaixiu continually revised the blueprints and soon produced a new type of undead unit.
It was a streamlined machine of the simplest form. It could hardly be called a fish anymore; it looked far more like a miniature torpedo equipped with its own jet engine.
Only the size of a finger, it had a miniature jet magic circle as a thruster, relied entirely on the slight wagging of a tail fin to steer, and had space reserved in the nose to load an alchemical bomb or other weaponry.
Anbaixiu muttered to himself, "Alchemical bombs cost too much. My air undead are still more cost-effective."
The so-called air undead was a colorless, odorless, virulent toxin Anbaixiu had devised previously. Made by transmuting air to possess the properties of a corpse and stuffing it with an entirely blank Simulated Soul, this type of undead lacked thought, mobility, and even the ability to move, making its cost exceedingly low. However, this air undead could only be preserved in a sealed container; once breached, it would burst apart directly, turning into colorless, odorless "undead air."
Anbaixiu had tested it before: once a living organism directly inhaled undead air, it would swiftly be corroded by dark magic. Its lethality was more terrifying than any known poison—even alchemical bombs weren't as efficient at killing.
If this air undead were loaded into the tip of this miniature torpedo to detonate upon impact, the virulent poison would rapidly burst out and poison the target.
The only issue was that the air undead's true form was ultimately a gas. The instant it exploded, it would form bubbles and float upward. How many of those bubbles could actually be inhaled by the enemy?
Being a man of swift action, Anbaixiu immediately set up an experiment, detonating an air undead in the water to see how many fish it could poison to death.
The final results were far from satisfactory.
Air dissolved poorly in seawater, causing most of the air undead to turn into rising bubbles. The fraction that could be inhaled in that instant was minimal. Consequently, the air undead's toxicity underwater was ten times worse than on land, degraded from a lethal poison into a non-lethal toxin that caused only respiratory distress and bodily convulsions.
Anbaixiu felt a bit of regret. He had stockpiled quite a bit earlier, but now it seemed largely useless here.
"Or perhaps I could use seawater as the base and try making seawater undead?"
Anbaixiu ran a test. Seawater undead were indeed possible to make, but the cost surged drastically.
The gold coin bestowed by the God of Alchemy cost money every time it transmuted properties, and the greater the mass, the higher the price.
Air had a low density; filling a finger-sized glass sphere with air undead cost less than a single copper coin. Replacing it with seawater cost upwards of thirty coppers, and that depended on the seawater's purity—different impurities seemed to require different expenditures during transmutation.
"Thirty copper coins for the seawater undead, plus the cost of the torpedo itself, exceeds one silver coin. No, that's still too expensive, unless I can cut costs on the materials." Anbaixiu decided to seek out Gustavo Fring and have the old man produce torpedo casings for him at cost.
Not long ago, Anbaixiu had ordered a batch of key parts for building miniature jet engines from Gustavo Fring without paying a single copper, but he had sold him the blueprints for the improved miniature jet engine in exchange.
It wasn't that he didn't want to keep it a secret, but with Gustavo Fring's skill, the old man could guess eight or nine tenths of it just by looking at the parts. It wasn't any revolutionary innovation in the first place, just something Anbaixiu had spent several years in his private space compressing down in size.
It was valuable, certainly, but its security level could never be truly high; an expert could easily reverse-engineer the underlying principles.
So Anbaixiu had simply sold the blueprints to this "old friend" to offset the bill for the components. Now that he had the torpedo's jet engine, he might as well sell the torpedo's casing design too. The casing wasn't worth much anyway, and he could have his "old friend" produce another batch for him.
Gustavo Fring now owned more than one alchemical factory. Mass-producing low-tech metal fittings like this was child's play; he wouldn't even need to make new molds—rummaging around might easily turn up streamlined metal casing molds that fit the bill.
Anbaixiu crunched the numbers carefully. This way, the cost of each undead torpedo could be compressed to around fifty copper coins. A million or so gold coins would be more than enough to see the war through.
With the first undead unit finalized, Anbaixiu got back to work. He wasn't sure whether something like a torpedo counted as a ranged weapon or a melee self-destruct weapon, but since users would undoubtedly launch it from afar, it could be treated directly as a ranged unit.
Next were defensive undead units, as well as genuine melee undead units.
Compared to the undead torpedoes, these two types wouldn't be cannon fodder; they would be regular troops—the kind built for repeated use.
While Anbaixiu excitedly immersed himself in his research, in the depths of the ocean, someone else had roused their spirits and begun working toward the Volcanic Sea.
Aeolus, having been held captive by the Kuo-toa Goddess for several days, was currently glowing with vigor. Suspended above a massive coral formation, he delivered an impassioned pre-battle pep talk to a crowd of dull-witted kuo-toa.
The lobster-girl version of Ariel stood gently beside him, gazing at him with eyes full of admiration. In the end, Aeolus had acquiesced, because the Kuo-toa Goddess's reasoning had been very persuasive: even Talos hadn't objected, which proved this Ariel was indeed the one he was looking for.
Thus, without much hesitation, Aeolus had chosen to accept this reality, even boasting to the Kuo-toa Goddess that he would offer the entire Volcanic Sea as his "bride price."
The Kuo-toa Goddess had burst into hearty laughter and on the spot agreed to place the kuo-toa under her command into his charge. Her expectations weren't even high: as long as Aeolus could secure a foothold in the Volcanic Sea, she wouldn't even require him to conquer the entire region.
The Kuo-toa Goddess knew very well she had merely exploited an opportunity to hoodwink Talos's son into working for her. Who knew which other deities' chosen or scions they might encounter down the line? Given Aeolus's capabilities, securing a new breeding ground for the kuo-toa was already more than enough.
Perhaps it was time for her episodes to take a turn; right now, the Kuo-toa Goddess was terrifyingly lucid.
She handed over all the intelligence she possessed on the undersea races to Aeolus, telling him to study it thoroughly before leading the kuo-toa to seize territory.
Aeolus had studied it quite earnestly, though as to how much he actually understood, probably no one knew.
Yet the critical hour had already arrived. The sahuagin had already entered the stage a step ahead, and the ixitxachitl had even found a habitat to thrive and begun laying eggs to propagate.
If the kuo-toa didn't make a move now, in a few days all the prime territory would be snatched up.
So, come what may, they had to bite off a piece of territory first.
Channeling Talos's style, Aeolus delivered an impassioned speech, bluntly declaring that the enemies ahead were nothing but stinking fish and rotten shrimp, and that he would lead every kuo-toa to victory.
The effect, however, was rather lackluster. The kuo-toa merely watched Aeolus's performance in silence. Some gnawed on their fingernails, some picked their teeth with fish bones, and others were sound asleep, snoring away without listening at all.
Aeolus had never seen such preposterous subordinates. Were these fishmen's brains broken? Didn't they know who called the shots now?
If they were merely unruly troublemakers, that would be one thing—he could simply drag out a few defiant ones and kill them to intimidate the rest.
Yet Aeolus realized they weren't troublemakers deliberately defying him; this was simply how they naturally were.
Kuo-toa had remarkably low intelligence. Strip away their basic instincts to eat, drink, excrete, and sleep, and all that remained was the lazy desire to lie down and rest. Only when having occasional psychotic bouts would they do something foolish, like smearing sea mud onto the Kuo-toa Goddess's statue or sticking kelp onto it.
Aeolus's speech had simply been far too complex for the kuo-toa, so much so that they hadn't understood a single word and were completely incapable of reacting.
Seeing that things weren't working, Aeolus thought for a moment before shouting, "Follow me, and there's fish to eat! Refuse to follow me, and I'll eat you!"
The moment this simple, blunt line was roared, a vast swarm of kuo-toa surged to their feet with a great rustle.
They held aloft all manner of bizarrely shaped weapons, bellowing at the top of their lungs in a jumble of gibberish.
The meaning was just as simple, boiling down to two points: "I want to eat! Can't eat me!"
Aeolus looked upon this now-excited crowd of kuo-toa with satisfaction. A sense of gratification finally welled within him: these were his very first subordinates. They might be dim, but they were vastly numerous, and their overall strength wasn't bad either.
Kuo-toa were absolute fools, but perhaps because their simplicity made it easy for them to tap into hereditary bloodline power, the proportion of sorcerers among them was exceptionally high. Many kuo-toa could pull off a couple of unique bloodline spells.
Among the tens of thousands of kuo-toa before him, a tenth were spellcasters—a proportion that left other aquatic races in the dust.
As long as they were properly commanded, this would be a formidable army.
And as long as Aeolus could secure victories, he would be able to continually capture other races and bolster his forces... Aeolus felt the future looked brilliantly bright.
Sure enough, choosing to work with the Kuo-toa Goddess had been the right call. In just a few short days, he had gone from a lone wanderer to the leader of an army. Give him a few more years, and this entire ocean would answer to Aeolus!
Aeolus looked up toward the murky sea waters and prayed to Talos in his heart: "Great Father, do you see? I already command such tremendous power. One day, I will dedicate this entire ocean to you, and when that day comes, you will be proud of me! Please, wait with patience!"
Chapter 428