Bel had delivered a passionate, lengthy speech, convinced it was thoroughly persuasive.
Had it not been for that very last line, Anbaixiu truly might have been swayed.
Sinners had to atone; that was the law of Hell.
By Bel's reckoning, this reasoned, well-founded argument should at least make the Deceiver understand Hell's reality and show him that certain things simply could not be avoided. The archduke was confident that even if the Deceiver harbored resentment, he would still follow his arrangements and march into battle.
Yet Bel really should not have added that final remark.
Anbaixiu could accept rules, but "destiny"... That word was a sore nerve for him, something he could not bear to hear right now.
It was just like Melina being mocked for her intelligence—she would immediately demand a duel.
When someone looked down on Anbaixiu from on high and told him, "This is your destiny," the resentment built up over centuries would erupt in an instant.
Though he stopped short of throwing down a gauntlet to challenge Bel, Anbaixiu firmly raised his head and said, "Archduke Bel, just as you said, I am a sinner damned to Hell. But as for how to atone, I believe I have a different idea."
Bel narrowed his eyes and asked in bewilderment, "Did you fail to understand my words? Even if you flee now, how long can you run? Sin is eternal. Without military merit from the battlefield to cleanse it, you will remain a mortal forever. Don't tell me you harbor no ambition to climb higher—that would be a pointless lie."
"Of course I've thought of climbing higher, but not this way. Archduke Bel, the reason I became what I am today is precisely because I was constantly toyed with by fate. The reason I seek to become a deity is to break free from destiny's control once and for all. Going to the battlefield is my destiny? Forgive me, but I will not accept that."
Bel was taken aback by Anbaixiu's words and could not help explaining, "That was merely a figure of speech. Are you hung up on a single word?"
Anbaixiu shook his head. "It is not a metaphor, nor a slip of the tongue, nor hair-splitting. On the contrary, this is the Goddess of Fate using your mouth to remind me that I am still caught in her web. Archduke Bel, your power may exceed mine, but I understand destiny far better than you do."
"What on earth are you talking about?" Bel was thoroughly baffled, finding this mortal's speech even more cryptic than divine oracles.
The other two devil archdukes chimed in impatiently, "Bel, who cares what he says? Just crush him."
"Indeed. I'd like to see if hiding inside that mirror truly leaves him impervious to harm."
Seeing that the giant fly and the hound-headed archdukes were on the verge of making a move, Anbaixiu did not spare them a single glance. Instead, he looked at Bel and said, "Archduke Bel, facing this endless war, you must be exhausted as well. Otherwise, you wouldn't have plotted rebellion. You actually want to borrow the power of the First Layer of Hell to ease your burden on the battlefield. You might even want to escape this war altogether, wouldn't you say?"
Bel sneered in disdain. "Trying to sow discord between Zariel and me? How boring. Can the esteemed Deceiver not even grasp something this simple? The enmity between Zariel and me has long passed the point of reconciliation. It is merely the Lord of Hell's decree that keeps us maintaining the status quo."
"No, I have no intention of playing petty divisive tricks right now. I want to discuss a far grander subject with you. Archduke Bel, have you ever considered ending this war?"
Anbaixiu's question stunned all three devil archdukes. A moment later, all three burst into mocking laughter.
"Hahaha! Do you even know what you're saying? End the endless Blood War?!"
"This fool must have gone mad upon falling to Hell! Zariel went through all that trouble only to capture a lunatic—what a waste of effort!"
...
Not only did the archdukes find it absurd, but even the devils lurking in the shadows around the hall could not help snickering in derision.
They were all battle-hardened veterans of the Blood River Fortress. Who among them did not know what the Blood War was? Who among them did not want to escape this endless torment?
Yet the Blood War could never end. It had begun in an ancient era before the Prime Material Plane had even come into existence, continuing to this day as a grueling tug-of-war without a single moment's pause.
How dared a mere mortal make such a boast?
Anbaixiu offered no explanation and merely stared at Bel. The other devils present did not matter; the only one he needed to persuade was Bel, the supreme commander of the Blood War and the chief general of the Blood River Fortress.
Bel had started out with a mocking smirk as well, but after laughing for a while, Anbaixiu's unwavering gaze compelled him to fall silent.
Bel looked at Anbaixiu in disbelief. "Are you serious? You have a way to end this war?"
"Not at the moment, but I will do it. Just like when I once boasted that I would deliver the Kuo-toa Goddess to Talos—back then, no one believed a mortal like me could pull it off, yet I succeeded in the end. Right now, I know nothing about the Blood War, but I refuse to believe in this so-called destiny. Even if my soul is cast into the River of Blood to endure eternal torment, my goal will still be to resolve this once and for all.
"Archduke Bel, and all of you here—do you still remember how long you've fought in this war? Have all these years left you numb, resigned to this eternal suffering? I believe that long ago, you too fantasized about putting an end to this conflict and liberating yourselves from this sea of misery. I also believe you must have failed countless times to become this numb, ultimately abandoning that dream.
"So what is there to laugh at? I am merely standing where you once stood. The only difference is that I have yet to accept my fate. So even though I know nothing about the Blood War, I will still resolve it completely. I will not allow myself to be swayed by destiny ever again!"
Anbaixiu spoke with extraordinary fervor, reigniting the youthful ambition that had been worn down over so many years.
To be reborn was not to tread the same old paths, but to cherish this second chance and these vivid, living sensations.
What did it matter if he made wild claims? What did it matter if others mocked him?
A young man's ambition ought to pierce the heavens.
He possessed the power to create souls and the ability to sway every devil throughout Hell—why shouldn't he be even bolder?
If money could make the devil turn the millstone, then he would put every single devil in Hell to his use.
Otherwise, what was the point of establishing the Hell Bank and exploiting these devils from top to bottom? Was it purely to hoard wealth?
Anbaixiu intended to put that power to work. If destiny demanded he atone on the Blood River battlefield, then he would resolve this war once and for all. He wanted to see how the laws of Hell would react once the Blood River battlefield was gone.
Bel was stunned to realize that Anbaixiu was utterly serious.
Even more bizarre was that Bel found himself slightly swayed by this mere mortal.
Because Anbaixiu was right. Bel had spent far too long grinding his life away on this battlefield; he had forgotten how many battles he had commanded. Even gods had moments of exhaustion. Yet he dared not let his guard down for a second, because if he ever lost his sole value, he would be discarded by Hell and ultimately perish at Zariel's hands.
How many years had it been since he had slept peacefully?
Bel dared not even close his eyes for long, terrified that some unforeseen disaster might erupt on the front lines.
Of the Dark Eight under his command, only two had managed to spare the time to attend today; the remaining six were forced to slaughter on the front lines. How many times had this scenario repeated itself?
Bel was a devil, not a saint.
He was not like Arthur Ryan, who had persevered for a thousand years without slackening, all for the sake of a promise and the hopes of others. Bel was far greedier, far more fragile, and far less accountable.
He had merely been forced into becoming the supreme commander of this Blood War. More than anyone, he wanted to end it.
It was just that Bel had failed too many times, so much so that he no longer believed the war could ever conclude.
Bel knew Anbaixiu was only spouting empty words, yet those very thoughts had crossed his own mind once upon a time.
Give this mortal a chance?
What harm was there in letting him try?
Even if he failed, what impact could it possibly have on the entire Blood River battlefield?
...
These questions swirled before Bel's eyes. Finally, the supreme commander spoke to Anbaixiu in a deep, heavy voice: "Reckless mortal, you have no idea what you just promised. Every devil here has heard your words. If you fail, the entire Blood River Fortress, the entire Blood River battlefield—every single devil—will become your enemy."
"So, Archduke Bel, do we have a deal?" Anbaixiu asked.
Bel waved a hand. "Go ahead and do as you please. I won't force you onto the front lines anymore. But don't you dare think of taking another thing from my storehouses—not even a single nail!"
Anbaixiu let out a hearty laugh, then said to the archduke, "Thank you, that is more than enough. However, I would still like to ask Archduke Bel for a favor."
"I already said I won't lend you any equipment!" Bel snapped in annoyance.
Letting this kid make a mess was fine, but he would never waste the resources of the Blood River Fortress on him. What Anbaixiu had already taken would be treated as authorized by Zariel, and Bel would settle the bill with her later.
"No, I am not asking you for resources," Anbaixiu replied. "Rather, I'd like your help in issuing a notice across the Nine Hells. Tell every devil in the Nine Hells that I've made a wager with you, one I am bound to lose. Tell all the devils who hold a grudge against me, all those I sent to Hell after getting them killed: if they don't come for revenge now, they'll never get another chance."
Chapter 554