Staring at the figures displayed on the magic mirror, Zariel asked in shock, "These... these are all soul coins? Where did they come from?"
Anbaixiu explained, "Strictly speaking, they are only soul coins on paper. In reality, most of them are stored in the form of soul fragments. Only when necessary will these fragments be used as raw materials for me to stitch into soul coins."
"No wonder the number looked so odd. What's your exchange rate?"
"Regardless of size, one hundred soul fragments exchange for one soul coin," Anbaixiu replied. "They can be converted directly through the magic mirror without needing to beg other hell lords."
Zariel said in surprise, "That's more merciful than I imagined. I assumed you'd raise the exchange rate tenfold."
Hell had its own methods for compressing soul fragments into soul coins, though it generally took around seventy to eighty fragments to manufacture even the lowest-grade coin.
Material loss was high, and the process was tedious and exhausting. However, a complete soul coin was exponentially more potent than raw soul fragments and served as vital fuel for many infernal apparatuses.
It was the difference between high-purity fuel and low-grade dregs.
Anbaixiu's rate of a hundred to one—especially without restricting the size of the fragments themselves—was remarkably generous.
After all, it allowed on-demand exchange without risking one's life to pry coins from a hell lord's grasp.
On that point alone, Zariel suspected Anbaixiu was running at a loss. She guessed it was tied to his knack for counterfeiting; his cost to shape soul coins had to be far lower.
And Zariel was not mistaken. Where others needed seventy to eighty soul fragments to press a single coin, Anbaixiu required merely twenty or thirty. The power of Simulated Soul slashed his production costs dramatically, while his status as the artifact spirit of the magic mirrors allowed him to serve every user anywhere, anytime—an efficiency reminiscent of the internet from his past life.
Yet another issue remained.
Seizing on the crucial point, Zariel pressed, "Convenience means nothing if most devils can't produce that many soul fragments in the first place."
Anbaixiu chuckled. "Exactly. So of the numbers on those books, half come from my personal subsidies, about a third are low-interest loans, and only the sliver left over represents actual deposits."
A bank could not rely solely on the wealth of the rich, yet the distribution of riches in Hell was extraordinarily lopsided.
Hell lords could amass vast quantities of soul fragments, whereas roaming vagrant devils had virtually no surplus wealth. Lowly cambions like Cambien struggled just to feed themselves, let alone afford high-level techniques to synthesize fragments into soul coins.
And lemures, who ranked even lower than Cambien, rarely survived more than a few years after transformation before collapsing back into soul fragments strewn across the ground for harvesting.
Yet even if every lord in Hell were gathered together, the fragments in their grasp could never match the collective total scattered among the vagrant devils scraping by in the wasteland.
The real puzzle was convincing those devils to deposit their soul fragments into a bank.
Living hand-to-mouth and constantly starving, they shoved whatever fragment they found straight into their mouths. When Cambien had first arrived, his rations lasted only a single day, forcing him to scavenge the wastes the next morning.
With barely enough to eat, how could they have spare funds to save?
Moreover, the magic mirrors were not yet widespread in Hell. Anbaixiu might offer them free of charge, but manufacturing such alchemical items still bore a cost—far steeper than sculpting souls.
Anbaixiu had spent considerable effort conferring with the God of Alchemy to upgrade the mirror's formula, tailoring the design to use materials easily procured in Hell.
Once the design was ready, Anbaixiu sent out the lemures under Melina's command.
These little creatures carried their own magic mirrors and were tasked with spreading word of the device's functions and its crafting recipe.
Zariel grew even more bewildered. "Lemures? What could insignificant runts like that ever promote? Out in the wasteland, they're nothing but prey."
Anbaixiu smiled. "On their own, of course they're not strong enough. While devils can strengthen themselves by devouring souls, that growth depends on innate talent and requires time. Forcing soul coins down their throats produces little short-term effect, so I chose a far more convenient path."
The display on the magic mirror shifted once more, revealing a dozen spell options.
"What is this... Wait, isn't this the Weave?!"
Zariel was stunned. The mirror was actually displaying a "pay-to-cast" function.
Select a spell, deduct the fee directly from the account, and the magic mirror would cast the corresponding magic on the user's behalf.
Though none were earth-shattering spells, even Fireball was far beyond what a lemure could ever hope to master. Higher-tier spells like Chain Lightning and Greater Invisibility were feats few high-ranking devils could perform.
Yet now, even a lemure utterly devoid of magical aptitude could cast spells simply by drawing from an account balance.
"Have you lost your mind? Where could you possibly get that much mana?!"
By Anbaixiu's own admission, the vast majority of those deposits were subsidized out of his own pocket. That meant whenever these devil users paid to cast spells, Anbaixiu shouldered nearly the entire cost.
It was sheer madness. How many devils fought at any given moment, and how many would demand mana from him simultaneously?
Such a colossal drain would suck even Zariel dry in an instant. What right did Anbaixiu have to pull it off? Did he truly believe himself to be the Goddess of Magic?!
Zariel pondered for a moment before asking suspiciously, "Could it be that legendary ability of yours tied to gold?"
Anbaixiu did not hide the truth. "Indeed. The power of the Golden Throne hasn't vanished. I can substitute gold for mana, and because I exist within every magic mirror at once, I can provide casting support to users without delay. So pay-to-cast doesn't just require soul fragment top-ups; it also costs gold. But gold is worthless in Hell, isn't it?"
Gold was truly worthless in Hell.
The most common method devils used to tempt mortals into damnation was wealth—masses of gold. That alone showed how ubiquitous gold was in these depths.
While not as plentiful as plain rock, it was barely more expensive than any other common metal. In lava-drenched regions, gold nuggets larger than a head could easily be found, spewed to the surface by surging magma without any need for mining.
Gold supplied the spellcasting, while the soul fragments were pure profit for Anbaixiu.
Enlightenment dawned on Zariel, and her excitement broke through. "You really are insane. If you do this... if this happens..."
For a moment, Zariel could find no words to describe Anbaixiu's scheme. She could already envision the terrifying reality of every devil in Hell holding a magic mirror. So long as this man could endure the strain, he would become the master of Hell's Weave.
And once he succeeded, the very power structure of Hell would be upended.
There would be no more so-called dregs. So long as one possessed enough gold and souls, any devil could become a formidable spellcaster through the mirror. The days of cambions brandishing clubs to chase down bands of dretches would never return; those dretches could simply raise their mirrors and tear a cambion to pieces.
Even other devil lords would have cause to fear. If legions of lemures marched on their fortresses with mirrors held high, ordinary minor lords might not withstand the assault.
Anbaixiu, however, remained calm. "From now on, wealth truly becomes part of one's strength! Still, that will take a long time. As you can see, I'm subsidizing this vast sum myself; users actively using the mirrors to pay and cast spells are still far too few. Give it a few years, though. By then, there won't be petty bullying and oppression anymore—just Fireballs traded back and forth. Only when even the lowest lemure can unleash devastating magic will true order take hold in Hell. Wouldn't you agree?"
A shiver ran through Zariel. Could that truly be called order?
Wouldn't that be the peak of infernal chaos?
And yet, deep below, Zariel felt the entire First Layer of Hell tremble faintly, as though resonating with Anbaixiu's ambition.
Chapter 547