When the God of Alchemy dug Anbaixiu out while he was busy with his own affairs and asked him to attend the World Council, Anbaixiu flatly refused.
"A council hosted by the Lord of the Dawn might look on the surface like Ryan offering apologies and reparations, but in reality, it's just the Lord of the Dawn asking everyone to cut them some slack. What's there to discuss? It just boils down to how much divine favor or compensation the Lord of the Dawn is willing to dole out."
Anbaixiu had no fondness for such tedious cake-slicing games—especially when the knife was in the hands of a deity.
Besides, he was on decent terms with the Lord of the Dawn right now; there was no need to pick a fight with the god over some petty mortal gains.
"This was Flynn's suggestion. It's rare for him to see reason."
The God of Alchemy shared Gustavo Fring's thoughts with Anbaixiu. Hearing them, however, Anbaixiu showed no sign of pleasure; instead, he sighed. "Teacher, I think you just took pity on him and swallowed his nonsense. The odds of someone like him having an epiphany and turning over a new leaf are practically zero."
The God of Alchemy stroked his chin and asked, puzzled, "Aren't you being overly paranoid? What scheme could he possibly pull off? You've already thrown the Alchemy Association into utter chaos. Even if he borrows from the goblins, it's merely treating the symptoms rather than the disease. With alchemical knowledge spreading continuously, that old tiered profit-sharing system won't last more than a few years anyway."
Anbaixiu shook his head. "I'm not saying he has some plot that could hurt us. I just... forget it, I'll go talk to him myself. Aren't I supposed to advise the dwarves? It's a good chance to have a chat with their prospective new king as well."
The magic mirror allowed Anbaixiu to be anywhere, so he didn't need to waste any travel time. In the blink of an eye, he manifested inside that secret chamber deep in the dark subterranean depths.
Upon seeing Anbaixiu appear wearing his clown mask, Gustavo Fring's eyelid twitched uncontrollably. But he quickly forced a smile. "Old friend, it's been a long time."
"Yeah, long time no see," Anbaixiu replied perfunctorily, then turned his gaze toward the young dwarf standing nearby.
Although Seth Yuri already knew whom he would be facing, he couldn't help feeling a thrill of excitement when he saw Anbaixiu in person.
Seth Yuri exclaimed eagerly, "Master Ultraman? Is it really you?"
Anbaixiu replied politely, "Lord Yuri, I didn't expect to meet a descendant of the Mountain Clan either. Back when I was still a novice adventurer, I knew a Mountain Clan dwarven warrior named Zane Yuri."
"Uncle Zane? You knew Uncle Zane? But I never heard him mention your name," Seth Yuri said, surprised.
Anbaixiu reminisced for a moment, then said, "We had a bond forged through life and death... Ah, I used a different name back when I was an adventurer. Let me think. When I adventured with Zane, I went by Tav."
"Tav!" The excitement on Seth Yuri's face instantly turned into awkwardness.
"That name... er, Uncle Zane did bring it up quite often."
Seth Yuri found it difficult to say aloud. His heroic uncle had indeed mentioned that name constantly—though most of the time it was "that greedy, cunning human mage," "I've never seen such a vicious bastard," or "his brain is a precision instrument forged of gold, but it only knows how to count coins."
Yet whenever trouble arose, Uncle Zane would also sigh and say, "If only that bastard Tav were here."
After returning from the war resisting Ryan's invasion, the aging dwarf warrior rarely brought up those past days, yet on his deathbed, he had still muttered, "That bastard Tav still owes me a mug of the finest brew."
Seth Yuri had grown up hearing these stories. Though he could never quite tell whether the two had been friends or foes, Tav was without question an old acquaintance a dwarf could dwell on for centuries.
Never had anyone imagined that Tav was the legendary hero who had perished alongside the Demonic Dragon.
"How is Zane doing?"
Anbaixiu noticed Seth Yuri's awkwardness, but didn't care in the slightest. He knew perfectly well what he had done over the centuries; without thick skin, he never would have lived to this day.
Seth Yuri said with a sigh, "Uncle returned to Moradin's embrace twenty years ago."
Riddled with wounds from years of warfare, by dwarven standards, Uncle Zane had died rather young.
"Ah, that's a pity. I still owe him a good drink," Anbaixiu remarked with feeling.
Though it was hardly the first time he had heard of a friend's passing, Anbaixiu still felt a tinge of sorrow.
"Well, since you're the descendant of an old friend, let's skip the useless pleasantries. Lord Yuri, are you prepared to supplant the current dwarf king?"
Seth Yuri also regained his composure, adopting the bearing of a rebel leader orchestrating an uprising from the shadows.
"I dedicate myself solely to faith. I harbor no greed for the dwarven throne. Moradin charged me with bringing dwarven faith back to the right path, and the first step is eliminating that vampire."
"Which means the World Council isn't particularly important to you. What you're fighting for is legitimacy and righteousness, not mere profit."
Seth Yuri nodded. "Faith is my goal, but neither do I want the kingdom to suffer massive losses. Master Flynn mentioned that this council will determine the future of the Alchemy Association, a major matter that affects the entire realm. That's why I hope you can help us fight for greater interests. After all, Master Ultraman, you too were a victim of Ryan's atrocities, were you not?"
Anbaixiu's identity as a lich was too deeply rooted in everyone's mind; even though the Anbaixiu before him seemed to have taken on a different form, Seth Yuri still instinctively treated him as one.
Anbaixiu shook his head. "Arthur Ryan is my friend, and my ledger with Ryan has long been settled. Besides, on a personal level, I dislike dragging personal grievances into business negotiations. It muddies the waters and makes things look thoroughly unprofessional."
Dragging personal grudges into profit negotiations muddies the waters?
It was the first time Seth Yuri had ever heard such an argument, yet it sounded remarkably reasonable. True to his reputation as the world-renowned lich, his perspectives were truly novel.
"Then what is your advice, Master Ultraman? Are you willing to fight for greater interests on behalf of our Dwarf Kingdom? Naturally, in return, we will do everything we can to satisfy your demands."
Anbaixiu chuckled. "My advice? My advice is that it makes no difference whom you send to this negotiation, because from the very beginning, the World Council was never a negotiation among mortals. The grace of the Lord of the Dawn has once again enfolded Ryan. Any excessive demands would be seen by that deity as a provocation.
"Lord Yuri, though you are fortunate enough to enjoy divine favor, the Soulforger has surely already conferred with the Lord of the Dawn. This council is merely an extension of the gods' negotiations. The terms mortals sign on paper are nothing more than the visible fraction produced by the gods probing and compromising with one another.
"Therefore, do not try to vie with the gods; have faith that the Dwarven Gods have already arranged everything for you. Out of respect for Zane, my earnest advice is that you focus solely on internal dwarven matters. There is nothing to worry about regarding the World Council."
Seth Yuri found this hard to believe and pressed, "Master Ultraman, why do you say that? Do you know something in advance?"
The actions of deities were not for mortals to recklessly guess; even entertaining wild thoughts in one's mind was practically a sin. Yet the legendary hero before him spoke with absolute certainty, as if he had known all along.
On what basis?
The Dwarven Gods hadn't told him, so on what authority did this figure claim the gods had already settled it between themselves?
This conversation gave Seth Yuri an uncanny feeling, as if Master Ultraman were not merely a legendary hero, but a being elevated above mortals—like a prophet from mythical lore who relayed divine will.
Wait, that wasn't right. He was supposed to be the prophet.
Seth Yuri was a genuine God-favored. He walked the mortal realm bearing divine orders, carrying out the will of the gods. He was the prophet!
This bizarre dissonance stirred suspicion in Seth Yuri's heart. Could this lich be deceiving him?
Anbaixiu wasn't surprised. His current state was indeed peculiar. Although mortal in flesh, he had personally met far too many deities—those he had swindled to death, those he had collaborated with, those who had bestowed their blessings upon him... Having dealt with so many gods, his perspective had naturally shifted.
He could hardly call himself an "ordinary mortal" anymore; even he found that description hypocritical.
Anbaixiu was above mortals yet shy of godhood. This strange twilight existence made his words and deeds seem somewhat illogical to ordinary mortals.
But there was no way to explain it. He couldn't just say to Seth Yuri, "If you don't believe me, go ask the Dwarven Gods."
Not every God-favored treated divine realms like a backyard they could drop into at will.
At times like this, the best approach was not to explain at all.
Changing the subject, Anbaixiu said to Seth Yuri, "I know such advice invites skepticism, and I have no way to summon the gods to testify for me. But you were the one who invited me here for help, which means I have the right to refuse. I have no wish to attend the World Council, nor do I care to waste my time on it. Furthermore, I have another piece of advice: regarding your plan to kill the dwarf king, I strongly advise against using Wish."
At those words, both Seth Yuri and Gustavo Fring blanched.
This was the core of their entire plot—using Wish to slay the dwarf king and permanently eliminate the sacrilegious undead ruler. Why did it turn into "strongly advised against" in Anbaixiu's mouth? Did this lich intend to thwart their plan?
Could that vampire dwarf king have some connection to the lich?
Seth Yuri looked toward Gustavo Fring. Fring had brought this person into the fold, so reasonably and properly, it was up to Fring to handle him.
Fring reacted swiftly, snapping at Anbaixiu, "Old friend, out of the goodness of my heart, I hand you all the benefits, and you come here to pull the rug out from under us?"
"Flynn, don't get so worked up. You've lived through this before, so you should know why it failed last time. Mortals attempting to cast Wish through such means commit a grievous crime. If my teacher hadn't done everything in his power to spare most of your lives, what was destroyed back then wouldn't have just been the City of Alchemy, and there's no way you would have survived the wrath of the Lord of Knowledge."
What Oghma despised most was pernicious, harmful knowledge. If the God of Alchemy hadn't sacrificed himself to bear the brunt of the backlash, Oghma would have turned every participating alchemist into an idiot and erased all records of the City of Alchemy.
Destroying harmful knowledge and expunging useless memories—both were within the domain of the Lord of Knowledge.
"But this time is different! The Wish is a one-time ritual!" Gustavo Fring argued agitatedly.
"It's the same. Using blood sacrifices to cast Wish... once you succeed, the method will spread, and the world will be cursed with another piece of knowledge that slaughters lives to blaspheme the gods."
The greatest peril of alchemy was not its inherent danger, but its replicability.
When mages cast spells, their intellect dictated their success; without sufficient brilliance, even grasping spell mechanics was useless, and casting could blow them to bits. Alchemy was different: it was purely replicable technology.
Relying on self-taught alchemy and assistance from goblins, Seth Yuri had managed to refine the entire spell circle structure without any help from a legendary alchemist.
Even with Moradin's blessing, the larger reason remained the inherently replicable nature of alchemy itself.
If this succeeded and spread, it would be refined time and again, eventually reverting to its original scale—or perhaps even optimized and upgraded.
Constant sacrifices, constant castings of Wish—as long as one had wealth and power, one could sample what it felt like to be a god. Such a technique was far too terrifying; left unchecked, it would bring about the world's destruction.
Anbaixiu had already foreseen the outcome if they used Wish: either Oghma would swat everyone dead with a single slap, or the spell would fail, visited upon them all in devastating backlash.
Anbaixiu explained patiently. Seth Yuri turned pale, never having imagined such repercussions.
"Then... why didn't the gods warn me?"
Seth Yuri had prepared for this for so long. If it would truly lead to failure, why hadn't the Dwarven Gods given him the slightest hint?
Anbaixiu remarked airily, "Perhaps you aren't the only God-favored. Seth, the gods never place all their bets on a single mortal. They set a flock of God-favored striving toward a shared goal through all manner of ways; as long as one succeeds in executing their mandate, that is enough. As for who triumphs in the end, it hardly matters."
Seth Yuri froze for a moment, then breathed a sigh of relief, smiling broadly. "So that's how it is. Thank you for enlightening me. If my failure won't compromise the gods' grand design, my mind is at ease."
Anbaixiu shrugged. Such a response didn't surprise him in the least—fanatics, he had seen plenty of them.
Anbaixiu turned to Gustavo Fring and said to the deeply frowning old man, "See that, old friend? A lifetime of your finest acting can't hold a candle to the genuine outpouring of a fanatic."
A flicker of panic crossed Gustavo Fring's face, but he promptly denied it. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Anbaixiu sighed and turned to Seth Yuri. "Seth, leave us two old men to talk in private for a bit."
Seth Yuri smiled politely and vacated the secret chamber without hesitation. Though somewhat disheartened, he had gained much today. While Master Ultraman advised against using Wish to slay the dwarf king, he hadn't opposed the assassination itself—at worst, they would simply switch methods.
He believed the master was open to reason. With his help, there might be a simpler way to deal with the vampire dwarf king.
Seth Yuri was patient; they could discuss it slowly another time.
Only Gustavo Fring and Anbaixiu remained in the room, their gazes locked. Fring grew deeply uncomfortable under Anbaixiu's stare and couldn't help asking, "What in the world do you want? I've already handed everything over to you!"
"Give it a rest. We've known each other for a long time, and I know exactly what kind of person you are. You were never generous or broad-minded. You're selfish, jealous, ruthless—just like me... Both of us are people who can't keep a leash on our desires.
"I've died twice. Twice! Even death failed to change my nature. Where would people like you and me find some miraculous epiphany?
"On the surface, you surrendered your interests in the Dwarf Kingdom and handed over authority in the Alchemy Association. But it wasn't because you had an epiphany; you just knew you'd lost. That clever head of yours simply chose a safer, more dignified way to lose, not because you genuinely saw the light."
Gustavo Fring's eyes reddened as he growled in a low voice, "You know everything, don't you? You're always the smartest bastard in the room! But so what? I've already conceded defeat this time! What more do you want?! I didn't dig any traps to deceive you! I just wanted to surrender these things in exchange for a little peace and quiet! What more do you want?!"
Anbaixiu shook his head. "A little peace and quiet, and then what? A few years down the line, once everyone forgets about this, you look for a way to win it all back? All that biding your time, plotting, and then betraying again—honestly, it's boring."
Fring might not have devised the exact method of betrayal yet, but Anbaixiu knew the routine far too well: the old 'vengeance is a dish best served cold' gambit. Concede defeat today, swallow your pride, nurse your grudge, and wait years to win it back, probing at every opportunity until probing turns into brazen treachery.
"You're the winner, so of course you can talk like that," Gustavo Fring said, no longer hiding the hatred in his eyes.
Fring had merely wanted to bury his hatred deep down—either until time smoothed it over or until he found a chance to score a vicious victory. Perhaps he hadn't fully worked it through himself, but he had indeed been deceiving the God of Alchemy.
What epiphany? What letting go? When someone carried a priceless vase down the road and shattered it, who could truly walk away without ever looking back?
Sages were rare precisely because most mortals could never attain such detachment.
Anbaixiu laughed aloud with brimming confidence. "That's right, I'm the winner. But it's not like you've never seen me lose. If I had always won, would I have ended up a lich? Back then, you were an exalted grandee of the City of Alchemy, while I was just a pathetic legend so dirt-poor I had to turn myself into a lich."
Gustavo Fring couldn't help roaring, "Then what difference is there between you and me?!"
Fring wished he could shatter the mirror before him with a single punch and rip away that infuriating clown mask.
Yet Anbaixiu flared up with even greater fury, his voice thundering, "The difference between you and me is that no matter how greedy or selfish I am, I will never betray anyone who treats me well! Flynn, my teacher genuinely pitied you! He truly wanted to forgive you! He bestowed blessings upon every prodigy to help them reach greater heights; he bore your sins to the point where he suffered punishment from Oghma!
"Even after all that, He was still willing to believe in you, willing to grant you one last chance. And what do you do? You put on an act before Him, while in your heart, you dream of stabbing Him in the chest one day!"
Dozens of giant Mage Hands materialized, slamming Gustavo Fring violently to the ground. No matter how many magical items he carried, under Anbaixiu's overwhelming arcane pressure, they were utterly useless.
Anbaixiu continued to roar, "That is the difference between us! I know who truly cares for me and who truly hates me! I have killed countless people, committed countless atrocities, and thumbed my nose at the gods themselves—yet I have never schemed against a friend! Anyone who treats me well, I repay with everything I have! That is the principle I have upheld my entire life!
"I used to think this was merely the baseline requirement of being a person. Compared to saints, I was just an ordinary, unremarkable mortal. But having lived for centuries, I've come to realize that even a scumbag like me is practically a decent man—because in this world, ungrateful bastards like you make up the vast majority!"
The crushing force of the Mage Hands grew ever stronger, grinding the magical wards around Gustavo Fring to dust bit by bit. He felt like a bug on the verge of being squashed flat.
When had this damned lich become so terrifying?
After transforming into a mirror spirit, the magical reserves left within the magic mirrors by all their users became his font of power. The total volume of mana Anbaixiu could mobilize had long since reached the level of a god—far beyond anything a mere mortal could withstand.
As the grip of the Mage Hands tightened, the bones in Gustavo Fring's body snapped one by one, threatening to crush him to paste.
"Go to Hell. I'm done wasting my time on you," Anbaixiu said coldly.
Crack, snap. Gustavo Fring's bones shattered one after another. Just as his life hung by a thread, a beam of golden light suddenly descended upon him.
The Mage Hands under Anbaixiu's command began to disintegrate, dispersing into pure mana.
The grievously wounded Gustavo Fring gasped for breath and tried to scramble away, only to find the golden radiance pinning him firmly in place, rendering him utterly immobile.
From the void came a sigh.
"Flynn, I shall take back everything that belongs to alchemy. From now on, you are on your own."
Within the golden light, Gustavo Fring's gaze turned dull and blank, as if his soul had been stripped away. His aged body slowly shrank, eventually becoming a dark-skinned child. The child blinked, looking around at his surroundings in curiosity, completely innocent of everything.
In the next second, the child vanished into thin air, leaving the newly conjured Mage Hand of Anbaixiu clutching at empty space.
Anbaixiu fumed, "Old man! You saw everything just now, and you're still soft-hearted?!"
The God of Alchemy's helpless voice echoed back, "What else could I do? They are children I watched grow up!"
Every legendary alchemist was a child favored by the god, even if they never knew it. Even with Gary Watts, the guildmaster who committed the most sacrilegious blasphemies, hadn't the God of Alchemy softened in the end and shouldered the sins on his behalf?
The God of Alchemy comforted him, "Rest easy. I have stripped him of all his memories. He doesn't even know his own name now, nor will he ever learn alchemy again. Let him live out this life in mediocrity."
"Bah!"
Anbaixiu tried to spit in disgust, only to realize that his mirror spirit body had no saliva to spit, which only aggravated his frustration.
"Dammit, I don't want to talk to you right now!"
Cursing under his breath, Anbaixiu steered the magic mirror out of the room.
Seth Yuri had been waiting outside for a while. The room was exceedingly soundproof, so he had had no idea what was happening inside. When he saw the door open and only Anbaixiu emerge, he was startled.
Where did a whole legendary alchemist go?
With his fury still smoldering, Anbaixiu said to Seth Yuri, "Follow me, Zane's nephew. I owe your uncle a drink. I'll go slaughter that vampire dwarf king and call it even."
Seth Yuri was completely dumbfounded. Why had the conversation suddenly jumped to this? What on earth had he missed?
Anbaixiu didn't care to explain. The God of Alchemy's soft-heartedness had infuriated him to no end, and no longer being an emotionally numb lich, he couldn't suppress his rage. That dwarf king was just down on his luck. Besides, when the Alchemy Association had seized his properties, the dwarf king had fueled the flames from the shadows. The bastard had it coming anyway.
"Wait, Uncle Tav!" In his fluster, Seth Yuri even blurted out the wrong name, but he couldn't bother with that now. He asked frantically, "Didn't you say Wish can't be used? The dwarven royal palace is heavily guarded, and ever since that blasphemer turned into a vampire, he's been hiding in its deepest depths. Infiltrating for an assassination is impossible!"
Anbaixiu sneered. "Infiltrate? Assassinate? There's no need for any of that. Come with me. It's time those ungrateful wretches witness my wrath."
Chapter 609