Anbaixiu looked at the glowing scroll before him, thinking this might just be the most precious treasure in the world.
Yet Anbaixiu did not get overly excited. Instead, he asked calmly, "Since You possess this scroll, why not resurrect Arthur directly? As for a reward for a lich like me, anything else would have sufficed."
The Lord of the Dawn countered with a question of His own: "Resurrect which Arthur?"
Anbaixiu froze for a moment before realizing: Arthur Ryan the man and his heroic spirit were, theoretically, two distinct lives.
"Justice cannot be quantified. Arthur Ryan, who saved the world the first time, is worthy of being resurrected with this scroll, and so is his heroic spirit. I cannot judge which Arthur would be the just choice to resurrect, and so My divine portfolio does not permit Me to make that decision."
The Lord of the Dawn's words left Anbaixiu speechless. What kind of divine trolley problem was this?
Then again, it wasn't entirely unreasonable. Anbaixiu recalled a story he had once read about a brother and sister. The sister had been bullied and developed an alternate personality—one that could only cower indoors, terrified of everything. The brother cared for her personally for many years until one day, she recovered and finally returned to her original, cheerful self.
Yet the memories of being cared for across all those years were gone, and that timid, well-behaved persona who had hidden at home in fear had vanished as well.
Everyone celebrated her recovery, but only the brother knew: he had saved one sister, but lost another.
Some things seemed melodramatic to outsiders, but only those who lived through them understood—different truly was different.
Just as Anbaixiu, no matter the pain, refused to "let go of the past," in the eyes of the Lord of the Dawn, Arthur and Arthur's heroic spirit were equally noble souls; resurrecting either one felt unfair to the other.
Bound by His divine portfolio, the Lord of the Dawn could not make that choice... and so He had dumped the thing onto Anbaixiu.
"Great deity, if even You cannot decide, what makes You think a mortal like me can do any better?" Anbaixiu paused, then added, "To be frank, although I admire Arthur greatly, on my personal resurrection list, he might not even crack the top five."
The Lord of the Dawn didn't seem surprised in the least, asking with a smile, "Then who is number one?"
Without hesitation, Anbaixiu replied, "Myself, of course. I'll send this scroll to the divine realm of the God of Alchemy. If anything unfortunate happens to me, I'll have my teacher resurrect me."
Anbaixiu had never hidden his selfishness. Come what may, he always came first.
The Lord of the Dawn replied nonchalantly, "Then so be it. Since it belongs to you, you may dispose of it as you see fit."
The Lord of the Dawn's generosity struck Anbaixiu as almost unbelievable.
He had always regarded the Lord of the Dawn as a hypocrite—noble and righteous on the surface, but purely self-interested at core. It couldn't be helped; influenced by his past life, religions of light in stories were the villains ninety-nine percent of the time.
"However, this thing isn't entirely without side effects, is it? Though I've tried hard to cast aside everything related to fate, premonitions still well up uncontrollably. My intuition tells me that while this is precious, it is also perilous."
To Anbaixiu's eyes, this glowing scroll seemed steeped in storms of blood and slaughter. The moment he reached out, he would be sucked right in.
The Lord of the Dawn said approvingly, "The world thinks you insatiably greedy, yet precisely when greed would be most natural, you are calmer than anyone. Rest assured, until you are prepared, I will not let you take this scroll away. The side effects you speak of do not stem from the scroll itself; Ao's blessing is without flaw or compromise.
"Whether you wish to resurrect a mortal, a deity, or a hero who fell in ancient times, this scroll can accomplish it. You need pay no price, and an exact name is not even required. If you wished to resurrect the original Mystra, you would not need to know Her true name; simply writing 'the first Goddess of Magic' would suffice.
"So, do you now understand where the true side effect lies?"
Anbaixiu pondered for a moment before speaking: "I understand. This isn't just a lifesaving talisman for mortals; it's the same for deities. In Your hands, no one would dare snatch it. But if it falls into the hands of a mere mortal like me, every deity will try to vie for it. I would be crushed to dust beneath the divine might of countless gods."
The Lord of the Dawn nodded. Conversing with a clever mortal like Anbaixiu saved a great deal of time.
"Though you exaggerate a bit, that is essentially correct. Were your current situation not so unique, I would not hand this scroll to you, as doing so would be tantamount to murder. But your state is extraordinary; perhaps you can hold onto it."
The Lord of the Dawn was indeed remarkably frank. Even so, Anbaixiu ultimately reached out and picked up the scroll.
Without question, this was the most precious thing in the world, irreplaceable by anything else.
Anbaixiu had no reason to refuse.
The Lord of the Dawn gave him a nod, then cautioned, "Since you have chosen to accept it, I trust you are prepared. Even so, I must warn you of one thing: Cyric has already set His sights on you. While I do not yet know the specific reason, that madman is brewing a colossal conspiracy, one that may drag in all of His enemies."
"Cyric? The Prince of Lies?!"
This wasn't the first time Anbaixiu had heard the name. Leira, the Lady of Mists, had previously asked Anbaixiu to help Her slay this deity.
At the time, Anbaixiu had refused on the spot. Cyric was a greater deity; ordinary deities didn't dare cross blades with Him, so what right or capability did Anbaixiu, a mere mortal, have to slay a god?
Later, Anbaixiu used the Portfolio of Darkness to resurrect Leira, which barely counted as repaying Her favor for lending him the Dream Barrier.
From then on, Anbaixiu had never had any dealings with the Prince of Lies.
At the mention of Cyric, the Lord of the Dawn, who had remained calm throughout, finally showed a hint of revulsion.
"That madman set His eyes on you long ago—or rather, He has always been targeting Jergal. You should be quite familiar with Cyric's relationship with the God of Death, shouldn't you?" the Lord of the Dawn asked.
"I've heard a little. Cyric once held a share of the God of Death's authority," Anbaixiu said modestly.
According to the stories circulating the streets, Cyric was universally despised by gods and devils alike. His enemies included the Lord of the Dawn Lathander, the Lord of Knowledge Oghma, the Goddess of Magic Mystra, the God of Death Kelemvor, and Tyr the God of Justice.
These deities shared one thing in common: greater deity status was their baseline, and that included extraordinary greater deities like Mystra and Oghma.
Combined, such a force would give even Talos pause and make him yield three leagues.
Yet Cyric was still alive and kicking, which showed just how capable the Prince of Lies was.
And precisely because the Prince of Lies was so formidable, Anbaixiu had refused Leira's request without a second thought. Slaying the Prince of Lies was harder than ascending to greater deity status himself.
"Cyric is a madman, but in the past, His madness followed some semblance of logic. Recently, however, His actions have become utterly abnormal. You were once a member of the Elegy Poetry Society—its most important one, in fact—so He targeted you long ago. Now that you've accepted this resurrection scroll from Ao, He will target you even more frenziedly."
Puzzled, Anbaixiu asked, "Huh? That sounds like it's not just because the scroll is precious. Does Cyric need it to resurrect someone important?"
The Lord of the Dawn fell silent for a moment before answering, "Cyric... believes He is Ao, or perhaps an existence transcending Ao. Therefore, anything connected to Ao draws His gaze—to be seized, and then destroyed."
Hearing this, Anbaixiu's eyes nearly popped out of his sockets.
"How could He possibly think He's Ao? Why didn't Ao slap Him to death?" Anbaixiu asked in astonishment.
It didn't matter if mortals cursed Ao; mortals didn't exist in the Overgod's eyes. Mortals were less than ants to Him—mere air. Mortals were just one creation among the myriad things wrought by the Overgod.
Deities, however, never dared, because Ao was watching at all times. In the past, fools had provoked Ao, and as a result, every deity received a savage beating. Billions of gods were cast down as mortals and hurled into the mortal realm to play a battle royale, causing countless gods to fall during that Time of Troubles.
Such was the wrath of Ao.
What backing could Cyric possibly have to claim equality with Ao?
"Has the Prince of Lies become that powerful?" Anbaixiu asked.
The Lord of the Dawn sneered disdainfully. "Of course not. He is merely a rat in the gutter, exceptionally skilled at hiding."
"Then why does He get away with it?"
"I do not know, but Ao does not seem to care about His blasphemy. Perhaps He simply cannot be bothered to stoop to a true madman's level."
Even the Lord of the Dawn couldn't answer this. Deities were not omniscient or omnipotent, much less privy to Ao's thoughts. The Overgod was forever inscrutable.
Anbaixiu was rendered speechless. Was this Overgod broad-minded, or just plain lazy?
"Still, no matter how mad He is, He wouldn't just take Himself for Ao out of nowhere, would He? Is there an explanation behind this?" Anbaixiu asked.
These were divine secrets; Anbaixiu felt he was about to hear some earth-shattering revelation.
The Lord of the Dawn had no intention of keeping secrets for His mortal enemy. With a derisive tone, He said, "Aren't you familiar with that Kuo-toa Goddess? Doesn't She also claim to be an ancient deity, wielding ancient magic mightier than the Goddess of Magic's? Cyric is the same—He simply believed His own delusion.
"The only difference is that Blibdoolpoolp was born from the madness of the kuo-toa, so becoming insane is hardly surprising. Cyric's madness was entirely self-inflicted. Have you ever heard of *The Cyrinishad*?"
As though his ears had caught a word his very being rejected, Anbaixiu felt a searing burn in his soul.
"What is that? Just hearing the name makes me deeply uncomfortable."
The Lord of the Dawn explained, "A tome penned by Cyric's own hand, with which He sought to turn all mortals and deities into His fervent believers. To some degree, He succeeded. Even true deities, if their wills are not unyielding enough, will be brainwashed upon reading it, becoming His fanatical worshippers and seeing Him as the supreme god of all creation.
"If a mortal reads it, their mind suffers permanent corruption. Even if you resist the tome's hypnosis, your intellect will be severely crippled, reducing you to a simpleton. Only a Wish spell can repair that damage.
"Precisely because the contents of that book were so evil, Oghma was forced to personally author *The True Life of Cyric*, using His own divine power to counteract *The Cyrinishad*'s influence.
"However, if one reads *The Cyrinishad* before reading *The True Life of Cyric*, even Oghma cannot save a mortal brainwashed by that vile tome."
Listening to this, Anbaixiu broke into a cold sweat.
What kind of terrifying monstrosity was this? Even devils couldn't produce something so outrageous.
Hypnotizing even deities—*The Cyrinishad* was sinister beyond measure.
Oghma, the Lord of Knowledge, despised wicked knowledge that threw the world's balance into disarray above all else; no wonder He was Cyric's mortal enemy.
Yet by this point, Anbaixiu still didn't understand what this had to do with Cyric turning into a madman... Wait. Any deity who read *The Cyrinishad* would see Cyric as the supreme god?
Anbaixiu asked in shock, "Cyric read the tome Himself, and then... brainwashed Himself?!"
Asking the question made Anbaixiu feel like he was losing his mind.
It sounded as absurd as the Lord of the Dawn getting burned by Holy Light, the God of Alchemy poisoning himself with a potion, or the Goddess of Magic tossing a tiny fireball and blowing up her own hair...
Yet the Lord of the Dawn cast an approving glance toward Anbaixiu.
"Indeed. You are far cleverer than ordinary mortals. Cyric read the book, and He was brainwashed too. When He originally crafted *The Cyrinishad*, His goal was to turn all deities into His fanatical worshippers, meaning even greater deities could be affected by it.
"Only He overdid it—so much so that He couldn't resist the tome's hypnosis Himself. And so, Cyric came to believe that He is Ao, or even an existence transcending Ao. He also believes all the gods are puppets He created, acting according to His commands."
After hearing the Lord of the Dawn's explanation, Anbaixiu was at a loss for words to describe the Prince of Lies.
This was truly the highest realm of lying—even believing it yourself!
"So, I'm facing a greater deity who genuinely believes He is the supreme god, and this scroll in my hands holds immense allure for Cyric."
Anbaixiu finally understood why the Lord of the Dawn repeatedly emphasized the danger, and why he had sensed storms of blood and slaughter from the scroll.
If targeted by Cyric, the deity would stop at nothing to take him down.
What was worse, since the fellow believed Himself to be the supreme god, He might disregard Ao's rules when playing underhanded tricks. Whether Ao would swat Him to death remained to be seen, but Anbaixiu would definitely take a catastrophic blow first.
Anbaixiu quickly looked up at the man radiating boundless Holy Light and said agitatedly, "O great Lord of the Dawn, You wouldn't just watch Cyric target an upright, kindhearted mortal like me, would You?"
"Hahaha!" The Lord of the Dawn laughed heartily, then said, "That is precisely why I sought you out. I will grant you the protection of the Holy Light and aid you against Cyric. However, I have yet to ascertain Cyric's aim.
"In the past, He was merely a clown desperately playing the supreme god; His actions at least had a trail to follow. Recently, though, He seems much calmer. His madness is no longer so superficial, and His actions have grown increasingly incomprehensible. I suspect Cyric may be regaining His sanity.
"Mortal, He is our common enemy. I hope you can help uncover what is happening with Cyric. The moment we catch the slightest opening, I, Tyr, Oghma, Mystra, and Kelemvor will all strike to finish this madman once and for all."
Anbaixiu frowned. "How could I have that kind of ability?"
The Lord of the Dawn said solemnly, "You do, because you alone are regarded as the Prince of Lies' successor. All you lack now is an opportunity. If your lies can deceive even Cyric, His divine portfolio will completely lose its power, and He will never be able to hide in the shadows again.
"Have a little confidence. Your knack for lying has already been personally verified by numerous deities, hasn't it?"
Anbaixiu: "..."
Why did the Lord of the Dawn's words sound suspiciously like an insult?
Still, since Cyric had targeted him long ago, Anbaixiu wasn't about to just sit and wait for death.
He was never letting go of this resurrection scroll from Ao. The Prince of Lies, was it? We'll see who fools whom.
Before that, though, Anbaixiu needed to look into this Prince of Lies' past.
He had heard Cyric was once the God of Death as well?
It seemed it was time to go back and have a chat with Jergal. Getting kicked out of the Elegy Poetry Society was also something Jergal owed him an explanation for.
Chapter 594