It is said that lies do not wound; truth cuts the deepest.
The dwarf king could usually keep his temper in check, but tell him he no longer enjoyed divine favor, and his fury was guaranteed to ignite.
Because deep down, he knew full well that it was almost certainly true.
Every kingdom had its own deities. Even when Catherine had caused massive turmoil with mana addiction, the Elven Gods had stepped forward to offer guidance. Cruel though that guidance might have been, the gods had refused to idly sit by.
So when the dwarves lost more than half their territory, why hadn't the Dwarven Gods intervened?
They weren't bound by any bet with the Lord of the Dawn, nor were they under any restrictions; handing down an oracle should have posed no problem whatsoever.
Yet they had done nothing of the sort. At least in the official records, not a single divine decree had ever surfaced.
Anbaixiu had dealt with deities for a long time and had encountered plenty of them, so he now tended to look at things from a divine perspective first.
If a child was about to be beaten to death, why wouldn't the parents feel heartache?
Most likely because the parents secretly wanted to borrow another blade to do the deed.
Examining this dwarf king's conduct closely, it wasn't hard to see why the gods had forsaken him.
In years past, the dwarf king had been bedridden with chronic illness. Feebleness aside, he had been a capricious tyrant who threw everything in his kingdom into shambles.
Instead of mending relations with Ryan, he had made one blundering move after another, handing Ryan countless pretexts to deploy troops and causing the desert nomads to throw their lives away for nothing.
Many meritorious officials had been driven to their deaths by this mad monarch, resulting in a dire drought of talent within the realm. It was only after absorbing the refugees from the City of Alchemy that the country had recovered somewhat.
All of this could be blamed on the dwarf king's illness.
The affliction had clouded his mind and magnified his violent temper without limit.
Thus, after transforming into a vampire, the dwarf king had genuinely wanted to govern well and achieve greatness. At the very least, after relocating the capital, his blunders grew fewer, and he vigorously promoted alchemy and commerce, cutting the figure of a ruler bent on dwarven revival.
Yet in the eyes of the gods, a dwarf who had turned into a vampire could no longer be counted as a dwarf.
Anbaixiu sighed. "Undead are undead. A zombie is no longer human, a bone dragon is no longer a dragon, and a dwarven vampire is naturally no longer a dwarf. What a pity that Your Majesty still fails to see this truth, clinging to the belief that you are making amends for past sins. In truth, I suspect the gods have long prepared to find someone new to take your place."
These words provoked the dwarf king into such a rage that he smashed his fist into the magic mirror. The glass shattered instantly, showering shards across the floor.
Yet in the very next second, the broken mirror repaired itself, and a beam of light landed upon the dwarf king, fixing him firmly in place.
"Calm down, Your Majesty. Don't go thinking you can best me in a fight. If I kill you right now, the Dwarven Gods will only thank me and grant me their blessings."
To his shock, the dwarf king discovered he had no ability to resist whatsoever.
This was impossible. He was a legendary figure himself. Even if he hadn't fully acclimated to his vampiric state, there was no way a casual Hold Person spell could paralyze him so easily—not with the hoard of enchanted equipment he wore!
What the dwarf king did not realize was that the power Anbaixiu was wielding did not belong to mortals at all.
Aige had delivered that special artifact ring long ago; evidently, the President of the Elegy Poetry Society didn't mind Anbaixiu putting it to use.
And the ring was an artifact capable of transmuting ordinary magical power into divine energy.
Back then, the converted dark magic had possessed life of its own, just like the power wielded by the God of Death.
Anbaixiu was currently casting spells using this transcendent mana, which amounted to a dimensional beatdown against mortals.
Magic resistance? Magic immunity?
Sorry, but mortals were mortals, and gods were gods. That was a fundamental, qualitative divide.
The only downside was the heavy consumption. Anbaixiu was no longer a lich, after all, and his efficiency in converting mana was relatively low; this divine-tier Hold Person spell had drained quite a bit of his stored reserves.
It wasn't enough for a prolonged brawl, but for scaring someone, it was more than sufficient.
Faced with such a staggering disparity, the dwarf king finally cooled down. Once the paralysis was released, he retracted his bat-like wings and stared grimly at Anbaixiu. "Master Ultraman, did you come here just to threaten me? Do you plan to expose my identity as a vampire and force me to abdicate?"
Anbaixiu shook his head. "Of course not. Just as you said, any king sitting upon that throne would make the same choice, because it comes down to raw self-interest, a contest between nations. If a pure-blooded dwarf took the throne, he would do the exact same thing—and he might even enjoy the backing of the Dwarven Gods.
"If that happened, what do you expect me to do? Kill another one?"
The dwarf king snapped in anger, "So you simply find me easier to control?"
Anbaixiu chuckled. "Of course. What else? Your Majesty, back when I was an ordinary lich, monarchs like you also looked down on the world from on high, dictating life and death with a single word. That is how the rules of this world work: whoever has the bigger fist gets to control more things.
"Such are the rules. If you don't like them, you don't have to play, but don't complain once you've stepped onto the board. To be a little blunt, the fact that I'm speaking to you calmly right now is already giving you tremendous face."
This was not Anbaixiu belittling him out of spite.
Whether it was Zariel, Mammon, or Archduke Bel who guarded the River of Blood, a single strand of hair from any of those Archdukes of Hell carried more weight than a so-called dwarf king. And since all three of them had to treat Anbaixiu with polite deference, Anbaixiu refraining from slapping the dwarf king across the face was already the height of being approachable.
Blood surged to the dwarf king's head, but he merely clenched his fists and swallowed his fury.
Anbaixiu continued, "Mortals always project their own viewpoints when trying to fathom the thoughts of deities, just as you are doing now. Expecting to rule a dwarven kingdom long-term in a vampire's body? You are undeniably a pawn the gods have already discarded. I guarantee the Dwarven Gods are already scouting for fresh candidates within your realm to replace you.
"Give it a little more time, and heroic figures will inevitably rise among the dwarves. Waging war on Ryan right now merely offers those heroes the perfect stage to knock you off your throne with ease.
"And as it happens, I promised my friend I would protect Ryan. So I am offering you a choice: agree to peace negotiations and accept Ryan's reparations. The desert can be returned to you, but you must not go to war with Ryan. If you agree, I can even offer you some advice."
The dwarf king asked in a low voice, "Offer advice? What kind of advice?"
Anbaixiu explained, "On helping you regain the favor of the Dwarven Gods, of course. Do you truly want to spend eternity as a vampire? Besides, how can a mortal fight the gods? In the end, one has to yield and beg for their forgiveness. Only when the gods acknowledge you can you become a true dwarf king."
The dwarf king asked in astonishment, "You have a way? You can communicate with the gods?!"
It had been many years since he last heard the voices of the gods. Deep down, how could the dwarf king not yearn to return beneath divine gaze? But he truly had had no way. For Anbaixiu to speak of it so casually—could it genuinely be possible?
Had anyone else said this, the dwarf king would likely have dismissed it, but the lich before him was different. He could no longer fathom what Anbaixiu truly was. Moreover, considering the lich's past grand exploits, holding conversations with deities hardly seemed out of the question.
Hope kindled within him, giving way to eager anticipation. As for Ryan... so be it. Getting the desert back was good enough; anything else could wait for later.
Anbaixiu nodded; he had finally brought the dwarf king around.
Although Anbaixiu had known he would certainly succeed in his task, the process had gone fairly smoothly. At least none of the Dwarven Gods had stepped in directly to interfere. Likely, those deities had their own reservations and had not yet made up their minds to eliminate the dwarf king before him.
After all, he was a child they had raised themselves. Disgusted though they might be, they were probably still willing to give him a slim chance—it all depended on whether he could seize it.
All of this was merely Anbaixiu's speculation, something he could confirm with just a few words once he spoke with the Dwarven Gods.
And that wouldn't be difficult. In the upcoming World Council, the Lord of the Dawn would make an appearance, and the other deities would surely turn their eyes toward a summit that concerned the geopolitical landscape of the entire world. Initiating a dialogue with them then would be far simpler.
With a few deft words of persuasion, Anbaixiu bargained Ryan's reparations down to three billion gold coins. As for the rest... he would pocket it as his commission.
Gold was no longer worth much to Anbaixiu, but he wasn't about to work for free.
***
Once the conversation wrapped up, Anbaixiu returned to Alan's side.
Having had a bout of sleep, Alan's spirits were much improved. When he heard Anbaixiu report that he had successfully persuaded the dwarf king, Alan froze on the spot.
"I only slept for a few hours... and it's... it's already resolved?"
Alan felt a profound sense of unreality. A monumental crisis involving the lives of tens of millions of Ryan's people had been settled by this master lich through a casual conversation?
Anbaixiu couldn't be bothered to explain further, instead asking Alan with utter seriousness: "With the dwarves settled, the other kingdoms won't pose much of a problem either. Alan, the question you should be considering now is the second one.
"The Ryan imperial family is rotten to the core and incapable of ruling the Ryan Empire again, which means you must become Ryan's new leader. Let me ask you: do you want to become Ryan's emperor?"
Chapter 570