Anbaixiu's invitation was soon delivered into the hands of the Ryan Emperor.
Looking at the delicate little box in his grasp, the young emperor tapped it with a finger, seemingly pondering whether or not to open it.
Ange Watson cautioned prudently, "Your Majesty, he would never pass up an opportunity to profit from war. This supposed peace talk is almost certainly a conspiracy."
"Naturally. It is impossible that this lich truly loves peace, or he would have received the blessing of the Lord of the Dawn long ago."
Ange Watson would have loved to see such a sight. The Lord of the Dawn should have given that lich a taste of Holy Light long ago, rather than letting him endlessly harvest the world's wealth in the name of justice.
Yet the deities seemed to take no issue with it whatsoever.
Last time, Anbaixiu had even publicly declared that he was the one truly favored by the Holy Light, fiercely denouncing the paladins as evil.
As a result, every elite soldier in the legion sent to subjugate the lich had developed psychological traumas and was still undergoing counseling to this day. The conditions of those few legendary paladins and clerics of light were even worse—some could no longer wield the power of the Holy Light, while several others had simply disappeared.
The Ryan Empire did not even dare acknowledge them as deserters publicly; it was an excruciatingly severe loss for the empire.
If this lich were allowed to keep operating under the mantle of the Holy Light, the Holy Light itself would be stained black.
The emperor reassured him, "Do not worry. Nothing mortals do can sway the deities. Since our Lord has not intervened, it only proves that all of this is merely a trial. Ange, tell me everything that happened in detail. Do not leave out a single word the lich said."
Ange Watson had come prepared, meticulously recounting every detail of his exchange with Anbaixiu.
Mainly, magic mirrors could be fitted with memory crystals to record video transmissions completely, and Ange Watson was not one to pinch pennies on such matters.
After thoroughly reviewing the entire exchange, the Ryan Emperor said to Ange Watson, "I understand the gist of it. You may return. Although the orcs are temporarily quiet, a commander cannot remain away from the front line for long."
Ange Watson reminded him, "Your Majesty, wouldn't it be better to have someone inspect the invitation first? Who knows if that lich tampered with it."
"No matter. Undead though he may be, tampering with an invitation is not that lich's style."
Ange Watson considered this and pressed the matter no further.
His Majesty was right. Greedy as the lich was, his scope was not so petty; he would not resort to such meaningless tricks.
Once Ange Watson had respectfully taken his leave, the confident smile vanished from the Ryan Emperor's face.
"That damned lich... what is he plotting?"
Any discerning person could see how this war would end, and the current Ryan Emperor was undeniably a discerning person.
Ryan would suffer devastating losses, but it could hold out, whereas the orcs were very likely to lose to the point of extinction. As someone who had achieved complete control over the Dragon Tyrant Armament, he possessed that confidence. No matter how fiercely the orcs fought, they could never truly bring about Ryan's destruction; he himself was the ultimate safety net.
And that was precisely what he wanted to see.
Back then, Arthur Ryan's greatest flaw had been supporting other races in establishing their own nations, which had resulted in seventeen hundred years of endless conflict.
If all races had lived under a single nation back then, would the fighting have been so brutal?
Having finally inherited the will of the Demonic Dragon Tyrant and gained new life, even seizing the body of the Ryan Emperor, he had to accomplish a great undertaking and thoroughly surpass Arthur Ryan in every conceivable way.
This was the current emperor's obsession.
The destruction of the orcs would make a fine beginning. Ryan might be weakened because of it, but it would never truly perish.
On the contrary, Ryan's decline would prompt the other kingdoms to start growing restless.
At present, the entire world was aligned against Ryan; even former allies like the elves and druids were on guard against it. Under these circumstances, paying a price for Ryan to enter a period of decline was a good thing. All he had to do was bide his time, sow discord among them, and the other kingdoms would inevitably fall into infighting.
With dwarves and elves living side by side, rough stones and elegant porcelain would clash sooner or later—peace was an impossibility.
The Shadow Druids of the Emerald Dream Forest had recently been expanding like mad, growing increasingly extreme to the point of orchestrating widespread assassinations of alchemists. Sooner or later, they would infuriate nations like the dwarven kingdom, which relied on the alchemy industry for their livelihoods.
Bicker, clash, tear each other apart—once every kingdom harbored bitter grudges, the world would be engulfed in the flames of war. By then, Ryan would have resolved its internal and external crises to achieve rebirth under his absolute control.
When the world went up in flames, Ryan would have its chance to unify the world.
Then he could assist the overseas dragons in returning, achieving a true unification that neither the Demonic Dragon Tyrant nor Arthur Ryan had been able to accomplish, bringing this entire plane under Ryan's rule.
At that point, he would become an emperor who surpassed Arthur Ryan—a true hero.
Yet that lich had chosen this exact moment to meddle, and of all things, he wanted both sides to make peace?
Incomprehensible. Utterly incomprehensible.
The Ryan Emperor opened the delicate little box. Inside lay not a letter, but a tiny memory crystal.
"How elaborate."
The Ryan Emperor pressed the memory crystal to his forehead, and in the next second, he sensed the imagery stored within.
An instant later, his expression changed drastically. His fingers clenched involuntarily, crushing the memory crystal to powder.
Veins bulged across his face, and the draconic eyes concealed beneath his hair flared with a crimson glare.
"Arthur Ryan! It really is you!"
A low roar tore from his throat, like the bellow of a dragon.
As if sensing his loss of composure, the young emperor quickly reined in his fury, once again concealing his draconic eyes beneath his hair.
Yet amid the rage, confusion welled up. Why was he feeling this way?
"I am not the original Demonic Dragon. Besides, didn't I already suspect that Arthur Ryan was working for that lich? Why... why did such uncontrollable fury surge from the depths of my soul the moment I saw him and heard that voice?"
Although the footage of the naval battle Anbaixiu had previously released was edited and showed very little of that paladin, possessing the Demonic Dragon's memories had allowed him to recognize that strike of the dawn. At that time, he had already suspected Arthur Ryan's resurrection; he simply could not fathom why the man would work for a money-grubbing lich.
Yet suspicion was only suspicion until just now, when he saw the message Arthur Ryan had left for him in the memory crystal.
Even though the face was indistinct, the moment the man spoke, his identity was unmistakable. It was that naive and childish, yet immovably resolute Arthur Ryan.
He had thought he could face his former foe with ease, but it seemed he had vastly overestimated himself. Words he had heard only once in his memories had driven him completely out of control upon hearing them anew.
Something deep within his soul seemed to roar, compelling him to tear apart everything associated with Arthur Ryan, to the point that he had not even listened clearly to what the invitation said.
When and where the meeting would be held, who would attend... none of it had registered. Only that hazy silhouette remained burned into his mind.
This state of affairs left the soul known as Artross deeply unsettled.
Artross believed he had merely been born from the Demonic Dragon's memories and the Ryan imperial bloodline. The Demonic Dragon's past ordeals were, to him, nothing more than a grand drama he had watched more times than any other. His personality and life ambitions might have been influenced by that drama, but he was not the Demonic Dragon himself.
Artross believed he could handle everything concerning Arthur Ryan dispassionately.
Yet now it seemed impossible. Something in his soul was actively clouding his reason.
"Is it the lingering hatred of the Demonic Dragon, or because the useless soul I swallowed hasn't been completely digested, leaving behind this pathetic, impotent rage?" He pondered for a long time, yet found no answer.
Time dragons had little knowledge of souls, and he certainly was not as ruthless as Anbaixiu, who had the audacity to dissect his own soul piece by piece.
"Arthur Ryan... there seems to be something belonging to me on your person. It's time to take it back."
Regardless of the circumstances, he had to attend this summit.
No matter who the lich invited or what schemes he had cooked up, Arthur Ryan would be there, so he had to see him.
As for details like the time and venue, he would leave Ange Watson to work them out with the lich.
***
Anbaixiu soon received Ryan's reply, stating that the emperor was willing to attend the peace banquet.
Upon receiving this news, Anbaixiu forwarded it directly to the orcs. The magic mirror displayed the purple octopus head of the mind flayer commander, who remarked in astonishment, "You actually convinced the Ryan Emperor to attend a conference that so blatantly harbors ill intent. Master Ultraman, I'm beginning to wonder if you conspired with the Ryanians to set a fatal trap for our Orc King."
It truly did not sound reasonable.
Ryan had plenty of representatives it could dispatch; by all logic, the young emperor should never have attended in person.
Anbaixiu did not bother to explain, asking teasingly, "And what if that were true? Would the Orc King refuse to attend out of fear?"
"Of course not. His Majesty can hardly wait to sever the Ryan Emperor's head with his axe. But you used the pretext of a duel to invite the Orc King, while framing it as peace negotiations to invite Ryan. When the time comes... Master Ultraman, I must warn you: when our Orc King flies into a rage, I fear even the deities couldn't calm him down."
The meaning behind those words was plain. Anbaixiu had deceived both sides with contradictory pretexts; things would never go smoothly enough to simply usher the Orc King and the Ryan Emperor into a dueling ring. If talks broke down and fighting erupted on the spot, it would not be an honorable duel—it would inevitably devolve into an all-out brawl.
If mishandled, the whole affair would collapse into utter chaos.
"Rest assured. I have long prepared for such an eventuality."
Anbaixiu's confident demeanor put the mind flayer at ease, though no one knew what the lich was truly thinking.
A chaotic brawl? A fight breaking out?
None of that was an issue. If everyone swarmed together and hacked the revived Demonic Dragon to death once more, Anbaixiu would be only too happy to see it.
The real question was whether the Demonic Dragon could actually be killed.
Anbaixiu was well-versed in the study of temporal power. It was the ultimate life-saving trump card; as long as one did not actively court death, they were extraordinarily difficult to kill.
Back then, had Arthur Ryan not stolen the Demonic Dragon's artifact, he never could have slain the tyrant.
Even if one severed the Demonic Dragon's head, time would rewind, restoring him to perfect condition.
And right now, the Demonic Dragon's artifact was with Arthur Ryan—the heroic spirit of Arthur Ryan existed by anchoring itself to this very artifact. Anbaixiu's only worry was that once the Demonic Dragon and Arthur Ryan met face-to-face, the artifact hourglass might fly straight back to its original master.
That would be troublesome. He would lose a powerhouse like Arthur Ryan for nothing and gift the Demonic Dragon an artifact to boot.
Therefore, Anbaixiu contacted his teacher without hesitation.
The God of Alchemy was as he had always been, seated before a workbench with a crystal mallet in hand, performing manipulations Anbaixiu could not begin to decipher. Facing his student's call, he said without looking up, "You had better not be here to tell me you've offended yet another deity."
Last time Anbaixiu crossed Talos, he had genuinely frightened the God of Alchemy half to death.
Attaining intermediate deity status after only a few centuries of godhood was quite impressive, but this student of his was an absolute magnet for trouble—Lolth the Spider Queen, the Dragon Goddess, the Lord of Storms... every single one was someone he could not afford to provoke. The God of Alchemy was terrified that Anbaixiu would one day suddenly say, "Teacher, this time it's Ao."
If that happened, the God of Alchemy would rather plunge into Hell and suffer than remain a god.
Anbaixiu could only placate him, "Teacher, don't be so nervous. I'm not a devil; how could I be provoking deities every single day?"
"Heh."
The God of Alchemy's chuckle was dripping with mockery.
Carefully setting down the crystal mallet in his hand, the God of Alchemy finally spoke to Anbaixiu, "I know what kind of person you are. Coming to me never means good news. Just spit it out."
"Don't be nervous. I'm truly not asking you to help deal with any deity, just a small mortal affair..."
Anbaixiu briefly reported the revival of the Demonic Dragon and the miraculous hourglass to the God of Alchemy, then asked, "I just wanted to inquire if there's any way to sever the connection between this artifact and the Demonic Dragon. Of course, it would be even better if we could use this artifact to ambush and kill that dragon."
The God of Alchemy frowned upon hearing this. While it truly had nothing to do with deities this time, the Demonic Dragon Tyrant was hardly an easy opponent to handle either.
"Are you certain the Demonic Dragon has revived? Why haven't I heard of any stir from the Lord of the Dawn or the draconic pantheon?"
"Teacher, you know about this wager too? Do you have any insider information?"
"No more than you do. It's just that I cannot interfere in this matter. Haven't you noticed? Even the devils of Hell haven't taken advantage of this opportunity to cause chaos. Ryan has gone all these years without major upheaval—do you really think that's entirely thanks to their devout faith?"
Anbaixiu nodded. He had suspected as much.
Under normal circumstances, with Ryan having been so extreme for so many years, many paladins ought to have fallen into Hell, yet there had never been word of devils mobilizing on a large scale to lure paladins into corruption.
Presumably, the Lord of the Dawn and the draconic pantheon commanded enough respect that even devils had to give them a wide berth.
"So, Teacher, you can't help either?" Anbaixiu asked.
"Helping you in person is certainly out of the question; I lack the power to involve myself in this wager. But let me give you a hint. Didn't you build a suit of mecha armor for Arthur Ryan? You used the legendary ability I granted you to transform the mecha into a material akin to an artifact—how did that turn out?"
Anbaixiu thought for a moment, then replied, "Not great. Forcing them together like that only damaged the artifact and caused it to malfunction... Oh, I see what you mean."
The God of Alchemy nodded. He always appreciated how quickly his student caught on.
"Artifacts are created to wield their corresponding powers conveniently and efficiently; otherwise, why would a time dragon need an hourglass to maintain eternal life? The simplest way to ruin an artifact is to make using it far more troublesome than casting the spell oneself."
Anbaixiu grinned. "Praise be to the Goddess of Fate. When I was conducting the modification experiments last time, I deliberately prepared a whole pile of spare parts."
Severing the artifact's link to the Demonic Dragon might be difficult, but the more parts attached to it, the harder it would be for the artifact to function. In a way, it solved the problem through an alternative route.
Well, hopefully Arthur Ryan would not mind turning into a ten-meter-tall giant mecha.
When the Demonic Dragon Tyrant tried to summon his artifact, only for Arthur Ryan to descend from the sky and crush him underfoot—now that would be a sight to behold.
Just as Anbaixiu was about to see to his business, the God of Alchemy spoke up again, "Did you do something to the Kuo-toa Goddess recently? Word reached me from the Elemental Plane of Water that that psychotic goddess's condition is a bit strange."
Anbaixiu said in surprise, "It's taking effect already? It's only been a few days."
Chapter 484