At a time when all eyes were fixed upon the grand event and everyone was consumed with concern over the impending conference, Anbaixiu—the figure at the very center of it all—was lounging across a massive heap of gold coins, thoroughly relishing the sensation of being buried under them.
Others, however, could hardly remain as calm as he was.
His two apprentices, Harvey and the recently inducted Selwyn, stood awkwardly off to the side, staring at a master who possessed not a shred of teacherly dignity.
Selwyn could not resist poking Harvey in the ribs, gesturing toward the lich with her eyes.
Though she was several decades older than Harvey, he had entered the tutelage first and was technically the senior apprentice. In such an awkward predicament, it was naturally up to Harvey to speak first.
Yet Harvey said nothing, merely standing there in silence until Selwyn finally could not help whispering, "Is our teacher always like this?"
"Occasionally... once in a while," Harvey replied helplessly.
"How long does it last?"
"Just wait a bit longer."
"All right then."
...
Anbaixiu seemed to catch the quiet murmurs of his two apprentices. Crawling out from the mountain of gold, he inhaled the entire pile of coins into his Golden Throne in one go.
Having been distorted by the kuo-toas' faith, the Golden Throne still bore a hideous, bizarre shape. Though glittering with golden radiance, it remained remarkably grotesque.
Anbaixiu did not mind in the least. Whatever shape gold took, its essence remained identical—just like Anbaixiu himself, whose will and pursuit were eternally unchanging.
Having stowed away the staggering fortune amassed in recent days, Anbaixiu finally addressed his two students. "Why aren't you two working? Did you come all the way here just to watch me play dead? Have you finished all the tasks at hand?"
Selwyn glanced at Harvey. Seeing her senior apprentice nod, she answered, "Teacher, the island's various facilities are nearly finished, and the first batch of sales staff has grown quite proficient. The goblins sent over by the dwarves have decent baseline capabilities; they grasped the sales plan you laid out very quickly. However, those goblins are eager to see you in person. They said they'd like to invite you to give them a speech."
Anbaixiu was very pleased with this new student of his. When it came to handling the island's miscellaneous affairs, this older woman was far more competent than a reckless greenhorn like Harvey.
Moreover, regardless of the school of magic they pursued, divination wizards possessed keen intuition. Coupled with articulacy, they held an absolute advantage when negotiating with others.
No wonder Aldarian had praised Selwyn as an exceptional assistant. She had indeed spared Anbaixiu a great deal of trouble.
Yet when Selwyn brought up the goblins, Anbaixiu could not hide his distaste.
"Goblins are no good. While some of their cleverer individuals are adept at doing business, they have no bottom line whatsoever, often leaving an enormous mess behind them. They're merely skilled at getting others to wipe their backsides for them. So don't interact too much with them. Discarding them once they've served their purpose is the proper way to handle them."
Selwyn agreed wholeheartedly with Anbaixiu's assessment. Had they not been short-handed, she could hardly have tolerated those foul-smelling goblins scurrying about before her eyes either.
All they cared about was gold. More than once, their hands had proven sticky, and Selwyn had been forced to employ harsh measures to curb the vile trend of 'side dealings.' Otherwise, those goblins would have dared to sell Anbaixiu's goods as their own and write it off later as 'spoilage.'
Goblins could be set aside, but other matters could not.
Selwyn said to Anbaixiu, "Teacher, your friends have all been settled in."
"Oh? So quickly?"
The members of the Elegy Poetry Society had arrived. Anbaixiu had simply indulged a bit too long in the bliss of lying among his gold, but now it was time to attend to business.
Anbaixiu told his two apprentices, "Go back to your tasks."
Once Selwyn had departed the vault, Harvey, who had intentionally lagged behind, suddenly doubled back. Looking exceedingly grave, he said to Anbaixiu, "Teacher, you've been acting very strange lately. Your apprentice has a question, and please do not lie to me: have you... foreseen your final day?"
Anbaixiu looked at Harvey, puzzled. "So much work to do, and none of it could stop your head from running wild?"
"This isn't my imagination running wild, Teacher. Don't forget that I'm a divination wizard too. And... my talent is greater than yours. You aren't the only one who saw your future; I saw it as well."
"And then? Since you already know, why bother asking?"
"But—"
Anbaixiu chuckled. "Who was it that bragged that if he saw himself dying tomorrow, he'd calmly review his notes, write a will, and await his doom? Now that it's someone else facing death, you're so agitated you can hardly control yourself?"
"I..."
Harvey was at a loss for words. Had the lich, who had once been so desperate to break free from destiny, accepted it with such utter serenity now?
Harvey could not hold back from urging, "Teacher, maybe we can try it—using the method you used to save me! I can join forces with Selwyn..."
"Shut up, Harvey!"
Anbaixiu warned him sternly, "Selwyn doesn't know that method yet. Are you trying to erase her only chance of salvation?"
When a divination wizard foresaw their own demise, their only hope was for another divination wizard to rescue them by reversing the past. But once the subject already knew the method, reversing the past lost its effect.
Anbaixiu understood the flaw in the method he had devised all too well, which was why he would never attempt such a futile endeavor.
Harvey's emotions surged, but with nowhere to direct his clenched fists, he had no choice but to let them fall limp.
Anbaixiu walked over to his side and clapped him on the shoulder. "From the moment we peek into the corners of fate, the people around us will march one by one toward their predestined deaths. Just as you grow numb to it all, your own turn will come. Every divination wizard goes through this. The notes Selwyn brought—have you read them? Have you understood them?"
Harvey nodded in silence.
His junior apprentice had not only brought the final testament of another divination wizard, but also the lifelong magical notes compiled by that elder. Harvey had studied them in his spare time and already grasped nearly the entire body of knowledge passed down through Selwyn's lineage.
Anbaixiu sighed with genuine envy. "Your talent truly borders on the absurd. I'm beginning to understand why the Goddess of Fate went to the trouble of snatching you away from Demogorgon."
Back then, Harvey had been tricked into worshiping Demogorgon and had already become a warlock, yet after merely glancing through Anbaixiu's Introduction to Divination Wizards, he had smoothly switched classes. If the Goddess of Fate hadn't pulled the strings behind that, Anbaixiu would never have believed it in a thousand lifetimes.
If the Goddess of Fate had chosen champions, Harvey would certainly be among them.
It was just that the goddess was notoriously fickle. Who knew how many blows from her fists Harvey could withstand?
"Teacher... is there anything I can do for you?"
Harvey felt deep sorrow—grief heavier than on the day he had learned of his own death. Like many around Anbaixiu, Harvey was a poor youth who had known little warmth growing up, yet under this 'evil' lich, he had experienced no small measure of care.
At the very least, this teacher had imparted everything he knew without holding back, and when Harvey had faced utter despair, it was this teacher who had unhesitatingly reversed time to pull him back from the brink. Yet now, as his teacher faced his own demise, Harvey could do nothing.
Anbaixiu considered the matter before telling Harvey, "Fate may play out in countless ways. Whether it was me, Mister Misfortune, or Selwyn, we each pushed one of those paths all the way to the realm of legends, yet in the end, we all failed.
"Every divination wizard must ultimately oppose fate, only to be crushed by it. It is like our inescapable destiny. But you still have a chance. Harvey, you may be the divination wizard with the greatest hope of breaking free from fate's grasp. Do not let us down.
"If you ask what you can do, then I hope you can follow the path the three of us have walked and venture even further along it. Even if you cannot reach the end yourself, carve out a broader future for those who come after, bringing them one step closer to the finish line."
"Teacher... I will... I definitely will."
Harvey lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut, but tears still escaped the corners of his eyes and dripped to the floor.
Anbaixiu walked past Harvey. His student was a man who had weathered tremendous peaks and valleys; he would surely pull through on his own without needing comforting.
Leaving the vault, Anbaixiu made his way to the other side of the island, where an underground palace had been constructed specifically for the members of the Elegy Poetry Society.
Though his fellow society members were all legends and none besides the vampire had much reason to fear sunlight, a horde of undead wandering across the island would still be quite terrifying to others. To avoid disrupting business, they had no choice but to ask the members to bear with the underground accommodations.
Hurrying over, Anbaixiu found the vampire Heji Stone standing before an easel, daubing paint with an air of genuine artistry.
Every member of the Elegy Poetry Society was present... except for the President.
A gathering of undead stood before Heji Stone, striking various poses for the vampire to capture on canvas.
Spotting Anbaixiu's arrival, the Headless Horseman Gareth promptly called out, "Brother, you're finally free! Come over quickly, this spot is yours."
Gareth pointed to the vacant space beside the Rose of Decay, which had been reserved especially for Anbaixiu.
Fortunately, this was painting and not a photograph, or they would never have been able to wait for Anbaixiu to arrive.
Approaching the crowd with a puzzled look, Anbaixiu asked, "What made you suddenly decide to paint a portrait?"
The Rose of Decay chuckled and explained, "The vampire said it's rare for everyone to gather like this, and since we've assembled for such a historic occasion, we ought to commemorate it with a painting."
Anbaixiu nodded. That did make sense.
The members of the Elegy Poetry Society were all titans commanding their own domains; gathering in one place was indeed a rare occurrence. Combined with momentous events like the peace negotiations between nations and a divine wedding, it would truly form a striking stroke in the annals of history.
Heji Stone actually had a sharp head on his shoulders; this painting would surely fetch a handsome sum in the future.
Could he, perhaps, also gather the various monarchs together for a portrait before the conference began?
Just imagining the Orc King standing beside the Ryan Emperor—what a magnificent sight that would be! A genuine 'masterpiece of world art' could be born at any moment!
As he pondered the idea, Anbaixiu suddenly heard Heji Stone speak up. "Hey, don't show up with just a bare skull! Who's going to recognize you like that? Look around—you're the only bag of bones here. It completely ruins the artistic style!"
Anbaixiu paused, looking around at his friends. It seemed that was indeed the case.
The Rose of Decay's body had been steeped in mercury, and through some unknown method she had preserved her appearance from life, looking like a peerless beauty of noble bearing. Though Headless Bro lacked a head, his armor and musculature were quite dashing. The Bone Dragon Eldest Miss appeared in her dragon soul form.
Aige, naturally, was present as a humanoid projection, while their prior acquaintance, the ghoul Youjiaxi, possessed plenty of flesh and blood despite his frightening fangs, carrying himself with elegance.
As for the one Anbaixiu didn't recognize... a giant sat crouched on the ground, towering high above the others. Though he looked rather hulking and simple, he still possessed a humanoid shape.
Meanwhile, the Poet was striking a dramatic pose with his lute, looking no different from an ordinary traveling bard.
Anbaixiu cried out in his soul, *In the entire Elegy Poetry Society, I'm the only pure skeleton?!*
Heji Stone put on a thoroughly disgusted expression and urged, "Hurry up and turn into your human form! Your appearance with black hair and dark eyes looked quite good. If I paint a skeleton in there, people will think you're just some summoned minion!"
Anbaixiu flashed the vampire a middle finger, but nonetheless dutifully shifted back into his appearance from before his transmigration—a somewhat languid young man with black hair and dark eyes.
One had to admit that the dwarven vampire possessed considerable artistic talent. While the group held their poses for two or three hours, he briskly completed several paintings.
To paint oil paintings so rapidly was truly remarkable, and upon closer inspection, the work was exceptional, capturing every individual with vivid likeness.
"Wait, why are you the one standing in the center?!"
Anbaixiu pointed indignantly at the central spot. In every single painting, Heji Stone himself occupied that position, even though he hadn't stood among them while painting!
Heji Stone sniffed dismissively. "Of course I have to be in the painting! But I couldn't stand there while painting, so didn't I have to improvise? I had to paint myself in first so I could arrange the rest of you around me. Explaining it to you is pointless anyway—you don't understand the first thing about art."
Anbaixiu shot him a scornful look. This fellow truly never missed a chance to steal the limelight.
Still, the paintings were finished, and there was no point in arguing about it now.
Now that the commemorative task was done, what remained was to attend to serious business.
Facing his friends, Anbaixiu said, "Everyone should have received the private messages I sent you. I trust you all understand what needs to be done. If you have any questions, you may ask me now. I hope that when the time comes, everything proceeds according to plan."
The members nodded, expressing their understanding.
The Elegy Poetry Society was the most vital part of the plan. Anbaixiu had made arrangements for every single one of them—especially Aige and the Poet, who were likely the strongest among the members, and whose assigned roles were accordingly the most difficult.
Just as Anbaixiu prepared to go over the script with everyone once more, the dark-red-skinned giant spoke up.
His deep voice echoed through the subterranean chambers like the ringing of a massive bell in a crypt. He asked Anbaixiu, "You said Arthur Ryan has been resurrected. Where is he?"
Anbaixiu looked at the giant. Though meeting him in person for the first time today, Anbaixiu had already interacted with this senior figure in their group chats. He was a remnant corpse left behind by the ancient giant race, much like the flesh golem in the Arena of the Storm.
Back then, however, he had been the very first flesh golem, stored within a great city. When the giants vanished, the city had collapsed into the depths of the earth, sealing him inside along with it.
Over countless ages, this fleshly corpse had birthed its own consciousness, becoming a unique type of undead. He had chosen a name for himself—Imu.
Theoretically, Imu was a zombie, but compared to ordinary zombies, he was countless times more powerful.
Having existed for so long, Imu had even participated in the ancient war to subdue the Demonic Dragon.
Imu had once been a comrade-in-arms of Arthur Ryan. Hearing him ask about the man, Anbaixiu could only explain, "His Majesty the Holy King is currently making preparations and likely cannot meet with you right now. Rest assured, however: once the conference begins, you two will have plenty of time to catch up."
Imu pressed no further, merely nodding toward Anbaixiu.
Anbaixiu surveyed the room. Confirming that no one had any other questions, he solemnly announced, "Then, if there are no further objections, I hereby declare the Elegy Poetry Society's Dragon-Slaying Plan officially underway."
Chapter 506