Anbaixiu immersed himself in the workshop of his private space, churning out blueprints and various basic components without pause.
While only a few days elapsed on the outside, several years passed for Anbaixiu within. By the time he had finalized the design for his new type of undead unit, the generals he had conscripted into service had also turned in their assignments.
Three thick operational battle plans were delivered before Anbaixiu. He flipped through them casually without reading too closely, then opened the magic mirror to connect with the merfolk High Priestess.
"Evidently, these generals from the mainland are all a bit... Well, they do not understand the ocean, so their battle plans are riddled with issues."
The merfolk High Priestess spoke in a tactful tone, but her underlying meaning was simple: this bunch of landlubber warmongers didn't know the first thing about fighting at sea, and the battle plans they had drafted were flawed at every turn.
Anbaixiu wasn't surprised. It was only natural for them to stumble given their lack of experience.
"Are you truly planning to use these people to fight the war?" the merfolk High Priestess asked with a trace of concern.
Anbaixiu gave a chuckle. "Well, I can hardly ask you to take the field for me, High Priestess. Merfolk cannot collaborate too closely with us undead, can they?"
Eadro's stance had already been made plain: the merfolk could deploy troops to check the expansion of the ixitxachitl, but they could not help Anbaixiu conquer this sea.
What Eadro least wanted to see was a massive expansion of undead power. Anbaixiu helping Aige ascend to godhood was the very thing Eadro found hardest to accept.
It was only because Eadro was a deity of absolute neutrality that things hadn't escalated; any other god would have commanded the merfolk to fight the undead to the death.
Thus, the merfolk could only cooperate with Anbaixiu under the pretext of a punitive expedition against the ixitxachitl. There was no question of allowing the merfolk to assist in directing Anbaixiu's undead forces to help him claim the Volcanic Sea.
Were it not for this constraint, Anbaixiu would have paid to enlist the merfolk long ago, with no need to seek help from mainlanders.
Even so, waging war purely on paper was unacceptable. Anbaixiu had anticipated that this group of the living would fall short, but he had already prepared a compensatory measure.
"High Priestess, I must trouble you for another favor. I wonder if you have any free time today?" Anbaixiu asked.
The merfolk High Priestess sighed helplessly. "I haven't slept for days. Still, if it is necessary, I shall do my best. But it is impossible for me to teach them naval warfare tactics in such a short span of time."
Over these past few days, the High Priestess had truly exhausted mind and body making preparations.
The ixitxachitl had already established a nest in the Volcanic Sea, and the merfolk had dispatched a joint force of locathah and merfolk to subjugate them, fighting each other to a stalemate.
Although neither side had suffered heavy casualties, everyone knew this was merely the prelude to total war, leaving her overwhelmed with responsibilities. The only reason she had spared the time to review Anbaixiu's battle plans was to ensure he deployed his forces as soon as possible to help shoulder some of the burden.
The merfolk didn't care about a single coral reef in the volcanic region, but they could not allow the ixitxachitl to take root here.
Right now, the merfolk High Priestess desperately wanted a good night's sleep. She was terrified that Anbaixiu was cooking up another grand spectacle that her frayed nerves could not endure.
To her surprise, Anbaixiu seemed delighted upon hearing this. He smiled and said, "Then that works out perfectly. I only wish to invite you to sleep, High Priestess."
After an eerie silence, a trident materialized in the merfolk High Priestess's hand. In an exceedingly grave voice, she said, "Master Ultraman, you have ten seconds to explain that sentence, or else..."
Anbaixiu froze, bewildered. "Did I say something wrong? I simply meant to invite you to have a good rest. While you sleep, I can bring you into a divine dreamscape. There, not only can your mind find relaxation, but you can also accomplish a great deal of work within the dream, saving vast amounts of time."
Only then did the merfolk High Priestess realize she had misunderstood. Thinking about it, she had indeed been overly high-strung—this was a lich, and when did the undead ever need "sleep"?
Curious, she asked, "A divine dreamscape? What is that?"
Anbaixiu said, "Have you heard of the Dream Barrier in the Emerald Dream Forest? It's something similar. Every living creature that enters the barrier falls into a deep slumber, and even the undead are no exception. Inside this dream, anything in reality can be manifested, and the passage of time is many times faster than in the waking world... It is difficult to explain the finer details, but please be sure to enter the dream on time."
Anbaixiu packed a small amount of gray, dust-like powder into a container, teleported it over to the merfolk High Priestess, and added, "When the time comes, inhaling a tiny amount of this powder will allow you to enter the Synesthesia Dreamscape."
Though a bit skeptical, the merfolk High Priestess chose to place her trust in Anbaixiu.
"Very well. I will enter the dream promptly. I would like to see what a dream forged by a deity is like."
To trust without suspicion was her personal creed; she never imputed malicious motives to anyone.
Anbaixiu felt profoundly grateful. Dealing with the merfolk High Priestess was truly effortless. Aside from Catherine, she was the second person Anbaixiu had met who didn't suffer from persecution mania.
Severing the connection, Anbaixiu swiftly contacted the tieflings and the contingent from Ryan, providing them with dreamdust as well and coordinating an agreed time to enter the dream.
Finally, he reached out once more to the young Elven King.
Aldarian still wore a look of bitter resentment. His hatred toward this lich would never fade in his lifetime.
Aldarian remarked displeasedly, "I've noticed you take great pleasure in picking the times people are trying to sleep to bother them. Is this standard daily routine for your evil alignment?"
"If I didn't pick your sleeping hours, we couldn't get this done today. You elves are immune to all mental influences, so I can only wait until you fall asleep on your own," Anbaixiu said helplessly.
Aldarian gave a puzzled frown. "What do you mean by that?"
Anbaixiu explained the matter of the Synesthesia Dreamscape to him. Elves were always troublesome. Back then, Catherine had been able to walk freely under the effects of the Dream Barrier, completely unaffected.
The same held true for other high elves. Merely inhaling the dust could not force them into sleep, so it had to be of their own free will.
After hearing Anbaixiu's explanation, Aldarian said in shock, "You want to conduct a military exercise inside a dream? Can it truly replicate the conditions of reality with complete fidelity?"
*This kid grasped the crux of the matter in an instant,* Anbaixiu thought. *As expected of someone fit to be an Elven King.* An old fellow like James Watson, who understood nothing of military affairs, lacked that sensitivity and had merely registered mild surprise.
Anbaixiu offered no further explanation, only telling Aldarian, "Won't you know once you try it? The time has been set. Don't get so excited that you can't fall asleep."
"Hmph, I know what I'm doing," Aldarian replied dismissively, though his heart stirred with unavoidable excitement.
Dreaming wasn't unusual, nor was dreaming of any bizarre sight. But if a dream could simulate everything in reality, how terrifying was that dream?
And how frightening would the lich who controlled such a dream be?
Even without this exercise, Aldarian had already resolved to enter the Synesthesia Dreamscape to see for himself, at least to understand what it was all about.
Anbaixiu delivered the dreamdust to him as well. He had specifically consulted Leira on the matter: so long as an elf was willing, the dreamdust could still usher them into the dream. However, elves would experience even less influence within the dreamscape and could wake up at any moment through sheer willpower.
Such was the potency of the elven gods' blessing. Any forced intrusion upon their minds was useless against the elven race, guaranteeing their absolute free will.
When the appointed hour arrived, Anbaixiu found a random spot on the deck, lay down, and used the dreamdust to enter the dream.
Guided by Leira's divine power, Anbaixiu arrived in a fantastical undersea realm surrounded by magnificent coral reefs and colorful schools of fish.
He wasn't even the first to arrive. Several tieflings had already appeared in the dream, marveling at its uncanny realism.
Although they could breathe underwater, they could genuinely feel the chill and pressure of the sea, and even the fish swimming past were within arm's reach.
A dream so real was something these tieflings had never witnessed.
When Anbaixiu materialized, the tieflings hastened to offer him respectful greetings.
Anbaixiu gave a casual nod of acknowledgment, then addressed the young man leading them. "You are the general dispatched by the Unholy Hymn to participate in this campaign? You look quite young."
Although the vast majority of tieflings did not show their age due to their fiendish bloodlines, this tiefling was an extreme case. He appeared to be only in his twenties, still a greenhorn with the innocence of youth clinging to him.
"Honored Master Ultraman, please rest assured. In the name of Mister Misfortune, I will not let you down," the young tiefling said with fervent enthusiasm.
"What status do you hold to swear in the name of my senior brother?" Anbaixiu asked in a deep voice.
The youth answered hurriedly, "My ancestor was Mister Misfortune's younger sister. Originally, our family had ceased using the surname Rostov, but Mister Misfortune reclaimed our honor. Therefore, please be at ease, Master. Even if it costs everything the Rostov family has, I will not disappoint you."
Anbaixiu fell silent for a long moment before asking, "Then what is your name? How many members of the Rostov family remain?"
"Not many. Including myself, only eight are still alive. As for my name, I no longer have one, just like our lost homeland. Ever since the Unholy Hymn was cast into the chaotic world, we of the Rostov family thoroughly discarded our names. Everyone in the family now refers to themselves as the Homeless, until the day we can lead our kingdom back to our original world. Only then will we be worthy to inherit this name of glory."
Though the youth was immature, Anbaixiu could faintly discern the shadow of Mister Misfortune in his features.
Back when they were both young, his old friend had been just as naive as this child, regarding family honor as greater than the heavens and babbling endlessly about grandiose, unreachable ideals.
Yet the first generation of the Rostovs had disgraced the name, Mister Misfortune had restored its glory, and their descendants had inherited this heavy burden to the point where they dared not casually carry the name.
*Is stubbornness just baked into this family's blood?*
Still, it didn't matter. Anbaixiu wasn't one to wallow in nostalgia. He gave the youth a brisk nod and cautioned, "There is something I must warn you about. When you meet the people from Ryan in a moment..."
Before Anbaixiu could finish his sentence, three young humans appeared in the vibrant sea, dressed unmistakably in the attire of the Ryan Empire.
Without waiting for Anbaixiu to conclude his warning, the other two tieflings had already lunged forward. Massive warhammers had materialized in their hands, swinging toward the three bewildered Ryan newcomers who hadn't even grasped their surroundings.
Anbaixiu was left speechless. He glanced back at the youth who called himself the Homeless, who was grinning brightly.
One had kept him occupied talking, while the other two executed an immediate ambush. These tieflings were viciously cunning.
Then again, this might be precisely the sort of talent Anbaixiu needed.
Chapter 429