Walking through the fortress behind Lorencos, Anbaixiu once again felt the sheer enormity of the stronghold.
The Ryan Imperial Capital paled in comparison to this citadel. Built entirely for warfare, its interior was a labyrinth of winding turns and intricate corridors; even the devils stationed here would likely struggle to know every path.
Yet even a fortress of such staggering scale had fallen to demons in the past. Though it was subsequently reclaimed, it underscored the terrifying might of the abyssal horde.
That Archduke Bel had managed to preside over the Blood River battlefield for so many years proved his military genius was second to none. Unfortunately, greed was a vice no devil could suppress, and in the end, that very greed had brewed endless troubles.
So why had this insatiably ambitious general summoned him out of nowhere?
Pondering this, Anbaixiu traversed a considerable distance before finally arriving at the innermost core of the Blood River Fortress.
Colossal as a titan, Archduke Bel sat perched high in the center of the hall. Suspended before him were dozens of magical mirrors, constantly monitoring every sector of the Blood River battlefield. Never-ending war demanded unrelenting vigilance. Perhaps this too was a form of punishment; even an archduke of Hell was bound by infernal law—sins would ultimately be paid for.
Beside Bel stood several seats of equal grandeur, eight in total, signifying eight devils who supposedly held equal standing with him. At the moment, most of these thrones were vacant. Only a revolting giant fly and a canine-headed devil were seated alongside Bel.
Anbaixiu had heard whispers of these eight positions—likely the eight infernal warlords. In status, they were virtually on par with Bel, yet as the supreme general with a peerless record of martial exploits, Bel commanded their obedience under most circumstances.
Anbaixiu could not identify this fly devil or the dog-headed fiend specifically, but looking up at the three towering figures gazing down upon him, the pressure was immense.
All three were genuine deities—beings who could crush a mortal with a flick of a finger.
As for the room full of old enemies Anbaixiu had anticipated... they were presumably lurking in the shadowy corners along the hall's perimeter. That area was veiled in deep darkness; even Lorencos had obediently slipped into the shadows upon entering, not daring to expose himself to the gaze of the three devil archdukes.
The magic mirror floated toward the trio. The closer it drew, the heavier the oppressive aura became, causing the mirror's hovering height to sink continuously.
Just before grazing the floor, Anbaixiu brought the mirror to a halt and offered a respectful bow to the three devil archdukes.
"Archduke Bel, and your two esteemed Divinities. May I ask what task requires the humble service of a mortal such as myself?"
Bel did not speak immediately. He merely fixed his crimson eyes on Anbaixiu, as though seeking to draw his soul straight from the mirror's glass.
Unfortunately for him, while Anbaixiu's projection appeared in the mirror, his presence simultaneously spanned countless magic mirrors at once. Bel's senses could not lock onto his true location at all. The only thing Bel could do was crush the mirror before him, and doing so would accomplish nothing.
Bel let out a booming laugh. "No wonder you can roam so freely. Given Zariel's temperament, you should have been skewered on an iron spear and roasted over hellfire for several years."
"Archduke Bel flatters me. It is merely a trifling trick, hardly worth mentioning. Before a deity, mortals never possess the power to resist. Archduke Zariel simply chose not to lower herself to my level, not that she was incapable of dealing with me."
Anbaixiu maintained the necessary outward humility.
One could act ruthlessly, but one should never speak without leaving room for retreat. That was one of the vital life lessons Anbaixiu had learned.
"Spare me your silver tongue. The name 'Deceiver' is well known even here in the Blood River Fortress. Regardless, you are a sinner who has descended into Hell, and this Blood War carries your share of responsibility. You took quite a large supply of materials just now; consider that an advance on your military merit. This battlefront is now yours to oversee."
Bel traced a circle over the dozens of floating projections. One of them magnified, spreading out before Anbaixiu.
It showed a volcano spewing torrents of molten magma, whose streams formed two rivers dividing the battlefield.
Around the volcano, over a dozen spatial rifts had torn open. Demons poured relentlessly from the tears, locked in vicious combat with the infernal forces stationed nearby.
"Your mission is simple: seal these spatial rifts so the troops on this front can be redeployed elsewhere. I will teach you the method to close them. While it cannot permanently block the Abyss's erosion, a seal holding for three to five years will not be an issue..."
Bel droned on complacently, while Anbaixiu listened in utter bewilderment. Seizing a brief pause from the devil archduke, Anbaixiu quickly cut in: "Wait, Archduke Bel. I'm afraid I lack the capability. I have no idea how to lead troops in battle."
Bel replied dismissively, "If you don't know how to command, fight yourself. We don't care whether you act as a general or a soldier, so long as the mission is accomplished."
Anbaixiu sighed, left with no choice but to lay things out plainly.
"Archduke Bel, the items I took were promised to me by Archduke Zariel, not some advance on military merit. If you take issue with that, perhaps you should discuss it directly with her."
Who in their right mind would want to step onto a battlefield? Especially a meat-grinder like this, where victory and defeat meant nothing and only pointless sacrifice awaited. Bel summoning him out of nowhere just to throw him onto the front lines was completely wrong—it deviated from every scenario Anbaixiu had anticipated. Wasn't this turncoat supposed to recruit him to conspire against Zariel? Why was he putting on the face of a petty villain, trying to feed him to the slaughter as cannon fodder right off the bat?
Unable to make sense of it, Anbaixiu could only try to wriggle his way out.
Before Bel could respond, however, the other two devil archdukes broke into mocking laughter.
"This boy actually thinks he has a choice?"
"Utterly foolish. The so-called Deceiver cannot even see through this?"
Anbaixiu looked calmly at the two unfamiliar devil archdukes and said evenly, "Perhaps your Graces are not very familiar with me. I have dealt with quite a few deities: the God of Alchemy, the God of Merfolk, the Lord of the Dawn, and more. Every god on good terms with me obtained more or less what they desired, and our cooperation has always been pleasant.
"Of course, there have been unpleasant occasions as well, though the unpleasantness was mutual. I once visited Talos's divine realm. The Towers of Ruin are exceedingly desolate and vast. Not only can they accommodate a Kuo-toa Goddess, but adding a few more deities wouldn't feel crowded in the slightest. Do your Graces understand my meaning?"
Anbaixiu's implication was simple: every deity who crossed him had suffered a miserable fate—Shar, Lolth, Blibdoolpoolp, each ending worse than the last. He had no wish to burn bridges with these devil archdukes, but with threats already looming, he had to offer a subtle reminder.
Push Anbaixiu too far, and he would genuinely pay Zariel and Mammon to deliver this fly and dog-head to Talos as pets.
Kidnapping gods was something he was already well practiced at.
This was the transcendent feat that elevated Anbaixiu above ordinary mortals, allowing him to maintain an attitude neither servile nor arrogant before three devil archdukes.
His words silenced both archdukes. Tangible fury flared around the giant fly and the dog-headed devil, the heat so intense that the magic mirror warped slightly, threatening to melt at any moment.
Anbaixiu remained completely unfazed. It was just a magic mirror; destroying it wouldn't affect him in the least.
If these two fools destroyed the mirror, it would be even better—it would give Anbaixiu the perfect excuse to flee. Whoever wanted to fight on that battlefield could go right ahead.
Bel had clearly not expected Anbaixiu to be so audaciously bold.
Though he had heard the title 'Deceiver' many times, in all his long existence, this was the first time he had witnessed a mortal threaten gods to their faces.
What made it worse was that Anbaixiu's threat was genuinely credible.
Kidnapping an intermediate deity and presenting her to Talos as a concubine was a monumental feat even for a god.
No wonder Zariel had not dared to move against him directly, resorting instead to underhanded schemes.
Bel was secretly delighted. A mortal capable of frustrating Zariel was a friend of his. Such a talent had to remain in the Blood River Fortress.
With a wave of his hand, Bel signaled the fly and dog-headed archdukes to reel in their anger.
Turning back to Anbaixiu, Bel said, "You believe you have free will to choose. On the surface, that appears true. You wander unbound, and we cannot touch you. But your ambition doesn't end there, does it? You don't intend to stay trapped inside this wretched mirror for the rest of your days, do you?"
Catching the underlying implication in Bel's words, Anbaixiu asked doubtfully, "What does that have to do with going to the battlefield?"
"A sinner who falls into Hell must ultimately atone, one way or another. I do not know your current state, but no one escapes the laws of Hell. You are, after all, a sinner who has descended here. And if a sinner wishes to transcend a mortal vessel and become a true deity, there is only one path.
"Step into the River of Blood, join this war, and claim enough merit to ascend. Otherwise, your sins will forever shackle you in your current state, inescapable no matter how hard you struggle.
"Deceiver, from the very first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew your ambitions surpassed even my own. You wish to become a deity—a mighty god standing above both me and Zariel. If so, entering the battlefield is your only choice.
"To perish in the Blood War, or to be reborn through its flames—that is a sinner's fate!"
Anbaixiu listened in silence. Then, a cold sneer curled on his lips as he met Bel's gaze.
"Did you just say... fate?"
Chapter 553