Whenever James Watson brought up the Lord of the Dawn, Anbaixiu always felt uneasy.
After all, throughout these past few centuries—whether as a living human or as a lich—the Lord of the Dawn had barely had anything to do with him.
Mages naturally held deities in a certain contempt; even before the Goddess of Magic, more than a few harbored thoughts of "I could take their place."
Liches were even worse; to them, the Holy Light was lethal poison, anathema that could not be touched.
Though Anbaixiu knew the Lord of the Dawn would certainly grant him some reward, actually taking the initiative to make contact was something he had never tried.
Anbaixiu muttered to himself, "'Any wish can be granted'? He talks as if He knows me so well."
James Watson said resolutely, "The Holy Light always guides toward the right direction. Perhaps you believe you desire many things only because you don't truly understand what you want."
"Don't give me that mystical nonsense. Regardless of whether the Lord of the Dawn grants my wish, you had better get this job done properly."
Anbaixiu wasn't about to be sidetracked by a few words from this old man; cutting corners was out of the question.
Seeing that Anbaixiu was impervious to cajolery or pressure, James Watson had no choice but to grumble under his breath as he went to mobilize personnel.
Herki Stone clutched the genealogy of the Ryan royal family, calling out names one by one.
"Countess Bienvenida... What? Dead? What about Countess Miriam? Dead too? Illyasviel is still alive, right? Bring her over; I'll train her myself.
"You're asking what the training is for? Her Majesty the Empress is attending such a grand occasion—every article of clothing and accessory, from largest to smallest, must be put on with the help of noble ladies of corresponding rank! This is your own Ryan tradition—don't you know the rules? And another thing: fetch some young, pretty nuns. Twins are even better!"
The dwarf vampire was already throwing his weight around, bossing the Ryan nobles around until their heads spun.
Anbaixiu withdrew his consciousness from Ryan and entered the Underdark.
The Rose of Decay was lounging lazily on the bed reading a novel. Having left the Synesthesia Dreamscape, the Undead Queen's sole pastime was reading novels, catching up on all the chivalric romances she had been forbidden from reading in her youth.
Anbaixiu materialized on the magic mirror beside the bed and recounted his encounter in Ryan to the Rose of Decay.
The Undead Queen closed the novel in puzzlement and asked, "The Lord of the Dawn actually agreed to let you pull off this spectacle in Ryan? That's truly bizarre."
"Yes, this deity's behavior is very abnormal. Ordinarily, He should be handing down divine oracles daily to unite Ryan once more. We're talking about the faith of tens of millions of people, a great many of whom are fanatics. Yet He simply watches, as if He has abandoned Ryan. That goes against the habits of a faith deity."
The Rose of Decay shook her head. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean He is far too indulgent toward you. Even if you rendered great assistance to Ryan, a modest reward would have been sufficient. Right now, what the Lord of the Dawn is giving you is more than just a reward—it feels more like... more like how He treated Arthur Ryan."
"I'm no saint."
Anbaixiu was well aware of his own nature; the difference between him and Arthur Ryan was simply too vast.
The Rose of Decay chuckled. "Yet you could become a saint. You saved the world and have done so many good deeds. Aside from Arthur Ryan, in over a thousand years, there truly hasn't been anyone greater than you."
Anbaixiu didn't know how to refute that. When a capitalist was called a good person, it could only mean this world was thoroughly messed up.
"So you're saying I should take the initiative to speak with the Lord of the Dawn?"
The Rose of Decay nodded. "Of course. What do you have to lose? Since a deity has extended an invitation, mortals like us shouldn't be overly arrogant."
The Rose of Decay's advice tempted Anbaixiu.
It was indeed time to talk with this powerful deity, though he needed to consider the approach.
Anbaixiu could contact the God of Alchemy at any time, and through that god's connections, he had even forged ties with Oghma, the Lord of Knowledge. Reaching the Lord of the Dawn through the God of Alchemy was one viable route, and having the God of Alchemy serve as a middleman would be a way for Anbaixiu to elevate his own stature.
But after pondering deeply for a long while, Anbaixiu abandoned the idea.
Just as the Rose of Decay had said, the Lord of the Dawn had already shown him plenty of respect. Trying to puff up his own standing now would appear far too arrogant.
It was like having an invitation delivered right to your front door—you could attend the banquet just by accepting it—yet insisting on finding a heavyweight to deliver a formal visiting card instead. What would be the point?
A good thing could easily turn sour if handled that way.
After careful consideration, Anbaixiu chose the simplest method: praying to the Lord of the Dawn.
Arthur Ryan had taught Anbaixiu how to pray to this deity of hope, and those prayers hadn't been forgotten even after his soul had shattered. It was just that the last time he had recited those words, Anbaixiu's body had burned with the agony of hellfire.
Even a mere speck of the Holy Light was lethal torture to a lich.
Would it be any different now?
Anbaixiu sent his consciousness deep into the magic mirror and began praying to the Lord of the Dawn from memory. At first, he merely recited the words stiffly, but as his focus sharpened, an indescribable sensation bloomed from deep within his soul.
It was a sacred, platinum-white rose, blossoming within Anbaixiu's mind.
A wave of warmth instantly spread throughout him, filling Anbaixiu with a tranquility he had never known before.
This was the Holy Light answering Anbaixiu's prayer, continuously releasing gentle power to mend everything within him. Had he been an ordinary mortal, bathing in this Holy Light would have made him immune to all diseases and noticeably slowed his aging.
Yet Anbaixiu currently possessed no real physical body, so the Holy Light's power acted entirely upon his soul.
Peace, comfort... Every stray thought was dispelled by the Holy Light, leaving only the purest ease and contentment. In truth, Anbaixiu's memories held far more pain than joy; throughout these centuries, his life had been one of wandering and upheaval, with bitter partings and deaths recurring again and again. Moments that could be called happy were fleeting indeed.
Yet at this moment, as those painful memories surfaced in his mind, they brought Anbaixiu no anguish. Instead, soothed by the Holy Light, they gradually blurred, as if he were letting go.
Even as tears streamed down Anbaixiu's face, he felt the burden upon his soul lightening, as if he were truly casting off the past.
It would have been a wonderful experience; had he fully embraced the baptism of the Holy Light, Anbaixiu might truly have bidden farewell to the past and found genuine release... Yet as those scenes faded, Anbaixiu suddenly furrowed his brows and snapped awake as if from a nightmare.
When he opened his eyes again, he felt a knot lodged tight in his chest, impossible to exhale no matter how hard he tried.
The painful memories that should have faded became vivid once more, then surged like a tsunami to drown him.
In that instant, he relived his past dozens of times over.
The suffocating pressure forced Anbaixiu to curl on the ground in agony, and only after letting out a shrill howl did he manage to struggle back to his feet.
Anbaixiu wiped away the tear tracks from his face and looked around with bloodshot eyes. This was no longer the space inside the magic mirror, but a beautiful garden. Nearby, crystal-like cherubs flitted about, while children laughed and chased one another in the distance. The sky above was a tranquil, soul-soothing azure, and even the clouds drifted in dreamlike shapes, seemingly shifting into whatever forms one loved most.
Even though he had never been to this place, Anbaixiu knew where it was: the divine realm of the Lord of the Dawn—Elysium.
When people embarked on a new journey, forged a pact, or formed a political alliance or romantic bond, they often prayed for the protection of the Lord of the Dawn, for this deity represented new beginnings and hope. The divine realm of the Lord of the Dawn was thus filled with vibrant vitality; here, it seemed one never had to worry about what lay ahead, and every single day greeted a brand-new future.
Yet Anbaixiu's bloodshot eyes and haggard appearance clashed jarringly with his surroundings. He could only take several deep breaths, fighting to calm himself before taking a couple of paces forward into the pure white pavilion ahead.
The handsome, youthful, and mighty deity sat within the pavilion, waiting for Anbaixiu's arrival.
Anbaixiu walked before this supremely sacred deity and bowed respectfully.
"Respected Lord of the Dawn, it is a profound honor to enter Your divine realm."
The Lord of the Dawn said calmly, "You do not respect Me, nor do you feel honored. If you cannot speak the truth because you have grown accustomed to falsehood, I can forgive your deceit. Yet I am curious: why did you reject My blessing?"
Just moments ago, the Lord of the Dawn had used His power to soothe Anbaixiu's mental scars.
It was an act of pure benevolence, bearing no trace of mind control.
Like a patron taking pity on an exhausted, scar-covered traveler, the Lord of the Dawn had merely wished to grant Anbaixiu the strength to embark upon his next journey.
But Anbaixiu had refused.
Just as his mind had been on the verge of settling completely, Anbaixiu had violently expelled the power of the Holy Light, causing the sorrowful past to rush back with a vengeance and inflicting even deeper mental trauma.
The Lord of the Dawn could not comprehend this, but to prevent Anbaixiu's soul from unraveling under the clash of opposing forces, He had been forced to withdraw His divine power and let Anbaixiu's soul plunge back into the mire.
Anbaixiu rubbed his throbbing head and said, "Experiences create memories, and memories forged who I am today. Respected deity, perhaps Your power truly could bring me peace. But if I forget these wounds, the character I suffered so much to temper will change. I might become full of vigor just as I was in my youth, but I'd also be just as reckless. I would charge blindly toward a different future instead of pressing forward with my current plans."
The Lord of the Dawn shook His head. "That might not have been a bad thing."
Anbaixiu sighed helplessly. "Even so, I can't do it. So many friends and companions died before my eyes; so many mistakes and regrets linger in my memories. They are gone, and if I just let go the moment I choose... they would hate me. It would be a betrayal."
To take the nearest example, Mister Misfortune's death—Anbaixiu claimed he didn't mind, but the scene of the man sacrificing himself remained vivid, and the helplessness of being manipulated by fate was as raw as ever.
Let go, forget, and then move forward?
Then Anbaixiu would feel as if a piece of his life were missing forever. If even that feeling faded, what trace would remain in this world of Mister Misfortune's existence?
The joys and sorrows, the partings and reunions he had witnessed over these centuries were all the same. They often weighed heavily enough to suffocate him, but that was no reason to forget.
The Lord of the Dawn fell silent for a moment, then remarked with emotion, "Your soul is burdened with ancient shackles; it is remarkable enough that you have maintained your sanity. In that regard, you and Arthur are of the same kind. I once extended three invitations to him, asking him to enter My divine realm, but he refused every one. Each time he faced a desperate end, I reached out My hand, hoping to guide him forward, but every time he chose to leave himself behind in the past."
The first time, when Arthur Ryan raised the banner of rebellion and emerged as a hero to save the world, the Lord of the Dawn had already resolved to welcome him into His divine realm. Yet Arthur refused, wagering himself instead in hopes that neither the Lord of the Dawn nor the Dragon Gods would further manipulate the mortal war.
The second time, when Arthur Ryan's soul was tainted by the Dragon Blood Curse, the Lord of the Dawn invited him once again. Even if it meant losing that wager, He wished for Arthur to enter Elysium, not caring if the Ryan Empire fell into decline as a result. Yet Arthur Ryan had clearly refused the Lord of the Dawn's invitation again, perishing entirely in excruciating agony, and using their final agreement to slay the revived Demonic Dragon.
The third time, when Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit ascended to godhood via Karsus's Avatar, the gates of Elysium had swung wide for him. But Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit was no different from his living self; without the slightest hesitation, he abandoned his own future, expending all his power to slay the newly reborn Demonic Dragon, perishing once more.
Every time, Arthur Ryan left himself in the past in exchange for the future of others.
Though Anbaixiu didn't know the exact details, he could guess the general picture, so he said modestly, "You flatter me too much. Someone like me is merely scraping by to survive; I can't compare to Arthur."
After that modest deflection, Anbaixiu shifted the topic.
"Respected Lord of the Dawn, I didn't come here seeking to forget the past. I merely wanted to ask if You have any other benefits to bestow upon me."
Never mind whether his soul was weathered by the ages; right now, Anbaixiu just wanted something practical. Spiritual comfort was worthless—better to give him a few artifacts instead.
The Lord of the Dawn seemed to have anticipated Anbaixiu's bluntness. Showing no sign of anger, He simply said, "I know what you desire, but do you know what you want yourself? Boasting that you will end the Blood War—is that what you truly desire?"
Anbaixiu said in surprise, "You're willing to help me end the Blood War?"
"If that is your request, I can intervene on your behalf. But are you certain that is what you want?"
The Lord of the Dawn's answer was so straightforward that it shocked Anbaixiu. This was a monumental affair concerning the entirety of Hell—how could the Lord of the Dawn agree to intervene without a second thought?
Wait, something wasn't right. The deity's words held a deeper meaning.
Since both sides were being so direct, Anbaixiu got straight to the point: "Please don't speak in riddles with a mortal who lacks Your wisdom and enlightenment. Great Lord of the Dawn, pray tell me what You truly wish to say."
The Lord of the Dawn smiled faintly and said to Anbaixiu, "Then let Us tally the good deeds you have done."
A shiver ran through Anbaixiu, worried that "good deeds" might be some ironic pun. But judging by the Lord of the Dawn's expression, there was no mockery there.
"First, after you transformed into a lich, you never killed an innocent under any pretext. Even when Alan attacked you of his own accord, you still granted him the chance to live.
"Your restraint is worthy of commendation.
"Second, you foresaw the hidden perils of the Ryan Empire and continually strived to eliminate them, dedicating yourself to preventing a world war and indirectly mitigating the sins committed by Ryan.
"Your benevolence is worthy of commendation.
"Finally, you cooperated with Arthur to neutralize the greatest threat, thoroughly winning the wager against the Dragon Gods for Me.
"Your wisdom is worthy of commendation.
"And now, you exert yourself on behalf of the collapsing Ryan Empire, neutralizing the surrounding threats, facilitating the transition of Ryan's power, and seeking no personal gain in return.
"Your generosity is worthy of commendation."
The Lord of the Dawn extended His right hand. Brilliant Holy Light appeared in His palm, coalescing into a scroll suffused with sacred radiance. Handing this visibly extraordinary scroll to Anbaixiu, the Lord of the Dawn said, "I will not waste time on other trivial rewards. This is what you deserve, and also the wager I won from the Dragon Gods—a resurrection scroll blessed by Overgod Ao.
"As long as you write a name upon it, you may perfectly resurrect anyone from any timeline. Regardless of whether their fate was already sealed, you can save them. But you only have one chance."
Chapter 593