"...To prevent the blood of the sea races from choking the deep abyss, the Lord of the Silent Night Sea is cordially invited to take part in this contest. The victor shall obtain ownership of the Volcanic Sea, as witnessed by the gods..."
Anbaixiu read through the text. The preamble wasn't important; what truly mattered was that the three deities were willing to bestow genuine divine source power upon Aige to assist her ascension to godhood.
Aige asked in confusion, "Isn't that a good thing? It could save me decades."
Anbaixiu explained, "You must know about Velsharoon, right? How many years did Talos keep him on a leash after helping him ascend? If not for a stroke of luck, our god of liches would still be Talos's slave. Divine source power is not something you take lightly—to say nothing of the foul sort of gods these three are."
The Kuo-toa Goddess was mad enough—mental illness was practically her divine portfolio; if Aige partook of that power, it would be no surprise if she went insane herself. Sekolah, the sahuagin goddess, was hardly better, cruelty and savagery being her very hallmarks. And then there was the god of the ixitxachitl, Demogorgon.
How could the Prince of Demons cooperate with two goddesses? Tell that to anyone, and they wouldn't believe a word of it.
Anbaixiu would rather believe Demogorgon was plotting to devour both goddesses. The Prince of Demons would never sacrifice his own power for a mere stretch of sea; this went beyond mutual profit, and demons certainly didn't care about such things.
Thus, Anbaixiu was extremely skeptical of the letter's credibility.
The trouble was, the messengers were two legends.
The sahuagin and ixitxachitl had each sent an envoy, and both letters bore identical text.
Generally speaking, a racial deity held absolute sway over their flock—just as Corellon could render every elf sterile with a mere thought. Such was the power of a racial god.
No race would ever dare act falsely in the name of their god. Looked at from that angle, the contents seemed to carry a grain of truth after all.
It was a contradiction, leaving even Anbaixiu unable to immediately judge fact from fiction.
However, there was no need to divine the truth. He said straight to Aige, "What I really question is their motive. Whether the letter is true or false, we should just decline."
Aige asked curiously, "Even if it's true, we refuse?"
Anbaixiu nodded. "Right now, we are advancing steadily and guaranteed to win. Why play war games with them? What does it matter to us how many sahuagin or kuo-toa die? All living things in this world must vie for living space. If you're afraid to die, don't enter the game."
"Aren't you afraid of the wrath of those three gods?" Aige asked.
As a native born and bred in this world, even though she was on the verge of taking that final step herself, her perception of deities remained unchanged: gods sat high above, mortals could not look upon them directly, and one could only worship.
Anbaixiu, however, was built differently. He had already swindled several goddesses; a few more wouldn't make much difference.
Right now, Anbaixiu held the absolute advantage. The undead snowball had grown large enough to sweep across these waters. Whether the various races banded together or not, he could simply crush them all in one fell swoop.
Why throw away your advantage to engage in some 'fair' contest?
Never do business at a loss—this was Anbaixiu's most steadfast principle.
Aige trusted Anbaixiu, but she couldn't help harboring a worry.
The moment she conquered this sea and ascended to godhood, she would instantly gain three new enemies. By then, would she have enough time to condense a divine realm, or find fresh protection?
Aige needed to become a deity and win the favor of the Overgod; only then would she have a chance to resurrect her father from the timeline.
And if she was hunted down the instant she ascended, the outcome would hardly be pleasant.
Given their current relationship, Aige concealed nothing and voiced her concerns directly to Anbaixiu.
Anbaixiu didn't make grand promises that the God of Alchemy could solve the problem. His relationship with the God of Alchemy was good, but that was strictly between the two of them. Asking the God of Alchemy to shelter Aige and actively make enemies of three deities would be crossing a line—like asking Anbaixiu to donate his entire fortune.
Every merchant understood one fundamental truth: favors weren't meant to be spent like that; otherwise, friends quickly turned into foes.
The God of Alchemy was arguably Anbaixiu's greatest backer. He couldn't tear down his own pillar of support just to help Aige.
Still, Anbaixiu wasn't completely out of options. Slipping a ring off his finger, he handed it to Aige and said, "This ought to help you."
"This ring looks a bit familiar," Aige said in surprise. "Did you really steal the ring from the Dragon Tomb?!"
"How can you call it stealing? Didn't I merely borrow a treasure from the Dragon Tomb to save lives? Besides, Gareth knows about it, and he already agreed."
Anbaixiu had long since explained the entire rescue to Headless Bro. Gareth was well aware that Anbaixiu had taken the ring, but the matrilocal son-in-law of the Dragon King had stated that trading one ring for the lives of himself, his wife, and his father-in-law was a downright steal.
It was an entirely fair, just, and transparent assessment—certainly not a way to stick it to his father-in-law once more.
The dragons were now ruled by Gareth. After the betrayal, the old Dragon King's heart had died within him; he had retreated into deep slumber inside the Dragon Tomb, leaving everything in Gareth's hands.
Thus, Anbaixiu didn't need to hide a thing, flaunting the artifact with swagger.
Aige naturally understood what Anbaixiu meant by "agreed." The dragon race had truly been bled dry to the marrow, stripped of every fine possession they had.
"What does this ring do?" Aige asked curiously.
Anbaixiu explained, "It can condense divine power for you ahead of time. Although it might not completely match your divine portfolio, I believe it can help you forge your divine realm in advance."
The ring left behind by the President was exceedingly peculiar, seemingly blurring the boundary between mortal and divine. Anbaixiu had been able to use it to condense "active" dark magic akin to the power of a death god. However, such energy could not be assimilated into oneself; a mortal body could not withstand it.
The dragons had used this power to reshape their environment, smoothing the transformation process for bone dragons rather than channeling it directly.
Anbaixiu had only used it to craft undead, never dreaming of merging it into his own flesh or soul.
After all, this was immense power mortals had no blessing to endure—it could be used, but never consumed.
Yet Aige was ideally suited to this situation, as this power could assist her in forging her divine realm beforehand.
A divine realm was essentially a higher-tier independent plane—much like Anbaixiu's personal dimension, which existed nowhere, yet could be accessed anywhere at his whim.
Once the spatial gate closed, no one could locate him.
The true purpose of a divine realm was the same: first and foremost, a refuge to hide in; only secondarily, a destination for the souls of faithful worshippers after death.
Strictly speaking, a mage's pocket dimension was also an independent plane. Upgraded, it became a stable personal plane; upgraded further, it became Anbaixiu's personal plane where time could be manipulated; and higher still, possessing a perfect self-sustaining cycle capable of generating matter and environments at will, was the divine realm of a god.
Normally, a deity had to attain godhood and master divine power before using their own strength to forge such an independent domain.
Even then, it was not completed overnight, but required an arduous process.
During that vulnerable window, the deity was effectively exposed, an easy target for other gods to hunt. This was precisely what Aige feared—that window was more than long enough for her to be killed several times over.
Now, with Anbaixiu lending her a ring capable of producing divine power, she could apparently complete the process before ever attaining godhood.
Never mind whether a divine realm forged this way was an ideal fit; any flaws could be adjusted later. As long as she survived that initial fragile period, infinite possibilities awaited her.
Grasping Anbaixiu's explanation, Aige said in profound shock, "The President gave away an artifact like this so casually? Who on earth is he?"
Anbaixiu was equally curious, but he replied helplessly, "If he doesn't want to say, guessing won't get us anywhere."
Back when Anbaixiu first acquired the ring, he had sent private messages to the President, but the other party had acted like someone asleep who hadn't checked the group chat, giving no response whatsoever.
"Still, he is almost certainly a deity. It's just hard to say which one could meddle so blatantly in the mortal realm. His true identity is definitely extraordinary."
From what Anbaixiu had gleaned from books, gods were divided into tiers not merely by divine ranks, but by numerous other factors—one of which was seniority.
Take Shar, for instance. She was the dark goddess born from primordial chaos at the creation of the world. Her seniority was so immense that even the Goddess of Magic couldn't compare. She might be down on her luck now, but Ao genuinely seemed to grant her special treatment; otherwise, some divine portfolios should have dropped from her last time.
If the President was also an ancient deity of that caliber, it was no surprise he possessed greater privileges.
After all, Ao was merely supreme; he had never promised fairness to anyone, mortal or god.
At the end of the day, this was a private realm. If you didn't like it, get lost—don't whine to Ao about what was fair.
Anbaixiu said to Aige, "In any case, take the ring and use it. If you can create your divine realm in advance, you'll have a sanctuary the moment you ascend. Relying on yourself beats relying on the gods—that has always been my habit."
Aige nodded, then tore the invitation letter to shreds.
Better to rely on oneself than pray to the gods. It was true: rather than placing hope in the mercy of deities, it was better to make oneself strong.
In her own name, Aige flatly rejected the rigged invitation. The messengers didn't say much; they spat out a passing threat and departed.
Yet after their departure, Anbaixiu's territory was subjected to wave after wave of attacks. Whether sahuagin or ixitxachitl, they fought with reckless disregard for their own lives.
However, Anbaixiu had long prepared. No matter how prolific the sahuagin and kuo-toa were, breeding took time; they could never win a war of attrition against mass-produced undead.
As for top-tier combatants, who could outmatch Aige?
After suffering heavy casualties across several assaults, their enemies seemed to finally beat a retreat.
Just as Anbaixiu had said, his ability to conquer this sea came from sheer, overwhelming strength.
Everything was clearly developing in a favorable direction, yet Anbaixiu couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
The prophecy he had witnessed before—that wedding—whose was it, and what did it have to do with this ocean?
Until Aeolus appeared before Anbaixiu once more.
Only this time, he no longer possessed that mad, unreasonable demeanor. On the contrary, compared to his previous high spirits, he looked rather battered.
One of his arms was gone, and by his side stood a peculiar young woman who was half-human and half-lobster.
His very first words upon meeting again were: "Old friend, I was wrong before. Now... could I ask a favor of you?"
Chapter 443