The Second Layer of Hell, the Iron Fortress.
A magic mirror was brought before Salvador.
Looking upon the massive mirror, the scribe let out a sigh and reached out to activate it.
Anbaixiu's features materialized on the glass. The two stared at each other for a long while in total silence, as if neither knew how to begin.
Three hundred years had passed. Salvador was now a devil, and Anbaixiu had become an artifact spirit within a mirror. They had once fought shoulder to shoulder, only to end up bitter enemies. There was simply too much history between them to know where to begin.
In the end, Salvador spoke first. "It's been so many years, yet you still haven't ascended to godhood. Should I be surprised?"
Anbaixiu replied with a self-deprecating chuckle, "Ascending to godhood is hardly that simple, especially for someone as incorrigibly greedy and undisciplined as me. Greed is a common vice among mortals, and I'm merely one among many."
Salvador smiled faintly. "Incorrigibly greedy... It seems these past few centuries have changed you quite a bit. The man I knew back then assassinated me seventeen times over several years, all in the name of justice and righteousness in his heart."
Anbaixiu had no retort.
He had not expected their reunion as old enemies to be devoid of drawn swords and flared tempers, replaced instead by an indescribable awkwardness.
If only he were still a lich, he could have screened out these useless emotions and engaged Salvador in a discussion of the past and potential cooperation with a flawless, polite smile.
Yet having regained his mortal sensations, his emotions had grown intricate. He had to accept the good and the bad together; life was not like a drug that yielded only pure euphoria.
Still, he was an old man of several centuries after all. Anbaixiu swiftly composed himself and told Salvador, "I assume you've already heard the word I spread. I need your help. I'm going to end the Blood War."
Salvador showed not the slightest agitation, answering with utter calm, "Setting aside whether I've let go of our past grudges, even toward a complete stranger—what makes you think I would help you? And what makes you think you could possibly accomplish something so impossible?"
"If you don't try, how do you know it's impossible?" Anbaixiu countered.
Salvador replied, "There's no point talking in circles around me. You pulled those tricks years ago. I may not have as silver a tongue as you, but I won't be fooled by appearances. You are losing your mind—and without any cause. I don't know what your underlying motive is, but I will never work for a lunatic, no matter how great the benefit."
Anbaixiu showed no vexation at the rejection, smiling instead. "So you're saying, if I'm not a lunatic, you'll help me?"
Salvador's brow twitched. He said dismissively, "I told you, don't use those verbal traps on me—"
Anbaixiu cut him off. "That's not a verbal trap. It's the truth buried in your heart. Salvador, several centuries have passed, and I'm not the man I was either. I've learned to read faces. Even though you are already a devil archduke, you still can't control your expressions."
Salvador said nothing.
Watching the silent scribe, Anbaixiu delivered the final blow: "The Ryan of today is no longer swept up in extreme fanaticism. The Lord of the Dawn won the wager, and the Holy Light will envelop Ryan once more. But sadly, that future has nothing to do with you."
Salvador's fist clenched uncontrollably, crushing a thick stack of documents into powder.
Anbaixiu feigned surprise. "You didn't know? That can't be. As the scribe of the Second Layer of Hell, there's no way you wouldn't know about the changes in Ryan. Is the intelligence you read every day made up? With so many souls descending to Hell and such a monumental event taking place, how could you not know? Oh, I see. You didn't dare to ask. After all these centuries, you still haven't let go of Ryan, still haven't forgiven your past self. You didn't dare read any intelligence concerning Ryan—you didn't even dare hear a single word of it..."
"Shut up! You damned piece of shit!"
Anbaixiu scoffed. "You've been a devil for centuries, and that's the best insult you can come up with?!"
Salvador shut his mouth. Though confident he could see through all of Anbaixiu's schemes, he was still provoked to fury. That was a past he could never forget, the most unshakeable faith of his previous life.
Even when the Lord of the Dawn rejected his choices and cast him into Hell burdened with sin, Salvador had never resented the Lord of the Dawn. For Salvador understood full well that causing the deaths of innocent dwarves had been fundamentally wrong; no high-minded pretext could ever justify it.
Sin was sin, and Salvador never believed his centuries in Hell were an act of atonement.
He was merely enduring punishment. Day and night, the remorse and shame were torments tailored specifically for him.
And now, the crisis of Ryan had actually been resolved?
The Lord of the Dawn was finally looking with favor upon His believers once more?
Salvador's eyes turned red, and something warm seemed ready to spill over. Lowering his head, Salvador ground his teeth and said, "Tell me what happened."
He could have investigated on his own, but Salvador still wished to hear the outcome from Anbaixiu's own mouth. That had been the root of their bitter enmity all those years ago; hearing it now brought things full circle.
Anbaixiu ceased baiting Salvador and recounted everything that had transpired in the briefest yet most precise words.
Upon hearing that the heroic spirit of Arthur Ryan had dispersed to slay the Demonic Dragon once and for all, Salvador could no longer endure it. The high-and-mighty scribe slumped over his desk and wept aloud.
Arthur Ryan was a unique figure to every citizen of Ryan, a pillar of their lives second only to the Lord of the Dawn. Anbaixiu did not know what Salvador was thinking at this moment—whether he regretted failing to fulfill his ideal back then, thereby causing Arthur Ryan to sacrifice himself once more, or whether he considered himself an accomplice in the death of the Holy King.
The weeping alerted the guards outside, but the moment they rushed in, an invisible force tore them to shreds.
Only when the devils' flesh and blood covered half the floor did Salvador lift his head again.
Though his eyes remained bloodshot, he had finally regained his composure.
Looking at the gore, Anbaixiu could not help commenting, "Your ruthless methods haven't changed one bit."
Salvador answered coldly, "I am no longer a cleric of light. I am a devil—a brutal, vicious devil. Is there something wrong with that?"
"You talk pretty tough now that your tears are wiped away."
Salvador's eyes went wide, and he snarled in fury, "You bastard... Do you want my help or not?!"
"Could you really refuse? I saved Ryan, after all. I helped the Lord of the Dawn win the wager, and I am Arthur Ryan's close friend..."
"Don't speak that name!" Salvador cried in agitation. "You must have deceived His Majesty the Holy King! Even if you don't admit it, I can guess! What right do you have to call yourself his friend?!"
Anbaixiu shrugged. If he didn't believe it, so be it; even if Arthur Ryan came back to life, he wouldn't deny it.
Taking a relaxed, couldn't-care-less stance, Anbaixiu told Salvador, "Alright, enough nonsense. I want to end the Blood War. How can you help? Don't tell me you've been a scribe for all these centuries without being able to offer any good advice."
"I knew you'd be like this. That's why I avoided you," Salvador sighed helplessly. "'Ending the Blood War' is the slogan you shouted. If it's just a cover, I advise you to stop overthinking it. It's an impossibility. Not just you—even if all the devils in the Nine Hells banded together, they couldn't end this battle. The Blood War is an intrinsic part of Hell's laws, the crux of punishing sinners. Unless you destroy the Nine Hells, what right do you have to alter the laws of Hell?"
Destroying Hell was impossible; perhaps only Ao could manage it. Even the slumbering Lord of Hell merely held dominion over the Nine Hells, akin to a king. But a king could not destroy his own kingdom; at most, he could abdicate and yield the throne.
"Don't pour cold water on me just yet. First, tell me about the origins of this Blood War so I can think it through," Anbaixiu said.
"There isn't much to say. The boundless River Styx runs through countless planes, and one of its massive tributaries connects the Abyss and Hell. That is the River of Blood you see, but it is merely a tiny branch of the River Styx..."
Salvador began explaining the origins of the Blood War battlefield to Anbaixiu, as well as the layout of its various sectors.
These were basic common knowledge known to all the devil archdukes. Having served as secretary to the Iron Archduke for countless years, Salvador had also overseen the dispatch of troops and materiel to the Blood River Fortress, making him intimately familiar with the Blood War.
Anbaixiu listened for a long while and distilled only two key points.
First: the demons were able to reach Hell thanks entirely to this tributary of the River Styx. For uncounted ages, the devils had failed to seal this branch, which was why the Blood War raged eternally. In theory, if the River Styx could be severed, every problem would be resolved.
Yet the difficulty of that was on par with kicking Ao aside and becoming the Overgod oneself—hardly worth contemplating.
Second: the laws of Hell were constantly self-completing. In the beginning, the Blood War was not an immutable means of punishing sinners. But the war had lasted so long that the Nine Hells had accepted its existence as default and incorporated it into the plane's laws. To end the Blood War was to set oneself against the planar will of the Nine Hells.
Anbaixiu merely promoting slacking off in Melina's territory had triggered a backlash from the laws of Hell; what of stopping the Blood War? The backlash could easily obliterate Melina and everything she owned. Anbaixiu might evade part of the punishment through his unique traits, but he would never emerge unscathed.
Strictly speaking, he was also a sinner who had descended to Hell.
It sounded as though neither could be resolved, yet Anbaixiu felt the second point was not without hope. Since the Nine Hells could accept the Blood War, could it also be made to accept an alternative punishment, thereby naturally cutting off the intrusion of the River Styx?
When Anbaixiu shared this thought, the scribe immediately mocked, "An eternal war unchanging for millions of years is an agony beyond measure. Where would you find an equivalent punishment that could also satisfy the Nine Hells?"
"Well... I don't have an idea right now, but it's not entirely impossible," Anbaixiu said.
"Fine. Even if you managed that, how would you get the Nine Hells to expel the River Styx? The River Styx isn't just a river; it's a very special plane, and on the other end, it links to the Abyss. Severing the connection between planes is something even greater deities might not be able to achieve."
Caressing his chin, Anbaixiu said, "That isn't beyond research either."
He had not tried banishing a plane, but he had tried banishing a kingdom—he had participated in that plan from start to finish. Perhaps once Harvey, his exceptionally gifted student, ascended to godhood, making a little sacrifice on Harvey's part could sever the tributary of the River Styx for Hell.
Not that he necessarily had to sacrifice Harvey, of course, but it was certainly an avenue worth investigating.
Salvador had no idea where Anbaixiu drew such confidence. Finding the matter increasingly bizarre, he could not help asking, "This isn't a cover? You truly intend to end the Blood War?"
Anbaixiu nodded. "I do have that idea. I never said it was a cover."
"Are you sick in the head? Why would you want to end the Blood War?"
Salvador stared at Anbaixiu in shock. Was this fellow actually not joking? Feasibility aside, why would he want to do such a thing? Was it sheer madness?
"I think this is my opportunity to ascend to godhood. A mortal must shine to catch Ao's eye. If even the Overgod doesn't notice me, how could I ever ascend?"
"You really are out of your mind. If Ao truly noticed you, He'd crush you with a flick of a finger!"
Anbaixiu retorted, "Who can say what the Overgod's tastes are?"
"Forget about Ao! Making such a massive stir, aren't you afraid of waking the slumbering one? The master of the Nine Hells has never had a reputation for patience. Before Ao even grants you a godhead, the chief god of the devils will rip your soul right out of you. You don't honestly believe you're safe hiding inside that mirror, do you?"
Salvador could also sense Anbaixiu's peculiar state. Ordinary archdukes of Hell might be powerless against Anbaixiu, but Asmodeus was different. He was the embodiment of Hell itself, legend holding that He was born alongside Hell. His power could not be measured by the standards of ordinary greater deities.
Perhaps Asmodeus was not exceptionally skilled in combat, but He was undoubtedly an entity on the same level as Corellon and the Goddess of Magic.
Corellon's arrow could pierce countless planes in an instant to lock onto Anbaixiu's soul, escaping it impossible even within the divine realm of the God of Alchemy. The Goddess of Magic could effortlessly dismantle the magic mirror's spell circuits and drag Anbaixiu right out of the glass.
Asmodeus surely possessed comparable methods.
The state of being an artifact spirit of the magic mirror was only good for bullying Zariel; before Asmodeus, it was woefully inadequate.
"No rush. I've only just started blowing hot air, after all. The Lord of Hell won't wake up and slaughter me just over a stray whisper. I still have time to take things slow, investigate, and set my plans in place."
Confirming that Anbaixiu had no intention of giving up, Salvador could only shake his head. "Then I cannot help you. In matters like this, only deities have the right to intervene. The power I possess was bestowed by the Iron Archduke; once I leave the Second Layer of Hell, it loses its efficacy. The Blood War battlefield is in the First Layer of Hell. My hands are tied."
"Don't look down on yourself so much. Even a sheet of toilet paper or a lump of mud has its uses, let alone the scribe of the Second Layer of Hell."
"Thank you for the sarcastic compliment. If there's nothing else, you can get lost. Don't disturb me again."
Salvador showed him the door without hesitation.
Anbaixiu chuckled. "You call this disturbing? I resolved a knot in your heart! Ryan has been reborn, and that's thanks to me. Arthur Ryan and I treat each other as equals; you should be addressing me with honor as 'my lord.'"
"Get lost! Hurry up and get lost!"
Salvador could barely resist grabbing his desk to hurl it across the room.
The desk, forged of pure obsidian and weighing a dozen tons, was light as a feather in Salvador's hands.
"Alright, I'll stop teasing you." Anbaixiu put away his playful expression and spoke with utmost seriousness. "Salvador, whether or not you regret the evil deeds you committed back then, you fell to Hell, my friend's family was received into the divine realm of the dwarven pantheon, and I personally avenged them. We're even.
"I won't blackmail you with your past crimes, nor will I use Ryan to force you to work for me.
"But let me ask you this: back then, you wished to change Ryan through your own strength alone. Have you truly cast aside those soaring ambitions? Ending the Blood War is a monumental feat. Think it over carefully—whether you want to join this great undertaking. You wouldn't want everyone to know you only as 'the scribe' without even knowing your name, would you?"
Salvador did not speak. Setting down the desk, he reached out with a tap and closed the mirror's display. Yet long after Anbaixiu vanished, the scribe remained silent. At last, he muttered to himself, "The Blood War... It's too ancient. Even looking up records will be difficult."
Anbaixiu did not force open the magic mirror before Salvador again. He had already gathered enough intelligence from this meeting; at least he had found a seemingly promising direction.
Banish the tributary of the River Styx, then find an alternative form of punishment. Regardless of how monumental the difficulty was, he at least knew what needed to be done.
Yet Anbaixiu was in no hurry to pursue that just yet. He immediately manifested in another magic mirror and told Melina, who was currently training, "Bring over that lemure who provided information on Salvador earlier."
Melina promptly ordered the lemure brought in, taking the opportunity to ask, "Father, what's wrong? Do you have new information?"
Anbaixiu replied, "There is information, but that's not what I'm about to talk about."
The lemure was quickly brought before Anbaixiu. Seeing him again, the creature seemed far more energized, likely having eaten and drunk well recently, and even his strength appeared to have grown a bit.
Yet he was merely a lemure after all. He did not dare make a sound before Anbaixiu, keeping his head bowed low as he awaited instructions.
And Anbaixiu's very first words frightened him half to death.
"That crazy woman Paluriel sent you, didn't she? Where is she?"
This was not Anbaixiu frightening him without cause. Salvador had never spread his name around; how could a lowly lemure possibly know such a well-kept secret?
Someone was definitely pulling the strings, and to stir up trouble without fearing offense to a powerhouse like Salvador... only that crazy woman would do such a thing!
Before the lemure could speak, an alluring figure materialized before Anbaixiu.
"Ohohoho, long time no see. You're just as sharp as ever."
Paluriel stood before Anbaixiu and asked, "Did you miss me, my old friend?"
Chapter 562