Time and space sounded like profoundly lofty concepts.
Yet even mortal wizards could manipulate time to a certain degree; scrolls of Time Stop always commanded astronomical prices, yet they were never out of stock.
The difference between mortals and deities was sometimes not what manner of power one wielded, but rather a question of "resistances."
If a god cast a charm spell on a mortal, even a lowly goblin god could entrance them beyond reason.
Conversely, Catherine's extraordinary charisma—which affected mortals indiscriminately—could hardly sway a deity.
The more formidable an entity was, the harder it was to affect.
The fleshy devil egg before him was no different; a mortal certainly could not accelerate its hatching.
Yet Anbaixiu could—it merely demanded a price.
Anbaixiu opened a spatial gate. Countless soul coins surged out like a miniature tsunami.
The price was wealth. Hell was an agglomeration forged to torment and devour souls; the reason infernal engines could burn soul coins for power was that this was the very foundation of Hell's planar laws.
In this place, wealth truly bought omnipotence.
And Anbaixiu was the true wealthiest being in Hell; his riches were already beyond counting.
Vast quantities of soul coins were cast into the void as fuel.
A rumbling thunder echoed through the Grand Archive as invisible time materialized into radiant light, swirling in a frantic vortex.
Time was accelerating, and the bloody egg quickened its incubation.
Originally only the size of a human head, the blood egg swelled rapidly amid frantic pulsations, steadily surpassing the height of a grown person and continuing to expand.
The Abyssal Lord's power contained within began to swiftly transform into fresh flesh and blood, shifting into shape under the direction of the Rose of Decay's consciousness.
Anbaixiu burned through millions of soul coins, losing track of how many years he had fast-forwarded—certainly several decades at the very least.
Through such an immense span of time, the blood egg finally grew ten meters tall, reaching the verge of hatching.
As a handprint pressed outward against the giant egg, sharp fingernails tore through the throbbing flesh, and the Rose of Decay stepped out, drenched in blood.
Anbaixiu hurried forward to support her weakened body.
Wiping away the thick, viscous gore, Anbaixiu beheld the reborn Rose of Decay.
Surprised, Anbaixiu remarked, "You haven't changed at all."
In appearance, her reborn self looked no different from before, except that her once deathly pale skin had gained a touch of natural warmth, making her look more like an ordinary human.
The Rose of Decay gave a charming smile and said, "I was already beautiful."
Anbaixiu teased, "True enough. But I always thought a woman's pursuit of beauty was endless, and that there'd always be some minor flaw to touch up."
"How do you know there wasn't?"
"Because I remember every detail of this face."
The Rose of Decay looked slightly surprised, then smiled. "Hearing words like that feels completely different now. You can say them more often in the future."
"That's wonderful. It means our efforts weren't in vain."
Anbaixiu was overjoyed. Even though her tone sounded as placid as ever, he could already feel her warmth and heartbeat.
At last, he no longer had to fear that her soul would wither away in endless silence.
Flushed with excitement, Anbaixiu swept an arm around her waist, and the two ten-meter-tall giants were about to bring about an earth-shaking commotion right there in the Grand Archive.
Yet the Rose of Decay said, "All right, now isn't the time. Don't you have urgent business to attend to?"
Anbaixiu sighed helplessly. "Alas, you're right."
Rich as he was, Anbaixiu couldn't burn money to accelerate time for *this*. Such a matter could not be rushed, let alone fast-forwarded.
Magic coalesced, banishing the blood and grime from her skin. Anbaixiu draped a dark crimson gown over her, closely resembling the outfit she used to wear in the Underdark.
In this way, aside from growing ten meters tall, little else about the Rose of Decay had changed.
"Do you need more time to adjust? I need your strength," Anbaixiu asked.
The Rose of Decay smiled. "I was already adapting while inside. I know what you need."
Delighted, Anbaixiu said, "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
Taking her hand, Anbaixiu teleported directly with her above the Blood River battlefield.
Looking down upon the battlefield, tens of thousands of fractured spatial pockets were locked in fierce combat. Bel was commanding at the front lines in person, barely pausing to catch his breath.
Yet the devil forces were simply inadequate. Several dozen warzones had already fallen; the demons had slaughtered every devil within those sectors and were furiously tearing into the spatial barriers, trying to break out of the Blood River battlefield.
If those demons broke through, Anbaixiu would be deemed a failure, and the devil legions of the Second Layer of Hell would immediately teleport in to execute him, an incompetent devil archduke.
Anbaixiu had no desire to test his mettle against that Iron Archduke.
Anbaixiu asked the Rose of Decay, "Well? Can you manage it?"
She did not answer immediately. She was carefully savoring this tension—a feeling she had not experienced in many years.
After a moment, her hand steadied, and she told Anbaixiu, "Lend me your power. My perception cannot cover the entire battlefield."
"Then we shall share our perception."
Anbaixiu carefully linked his soul with hers. As the master of the First Layer of Hell, his perception could envelop the entire Blood River battlefield, though it demanded intense concentration and could not be maintained for long.
Yet he didn't need to hold it for long, because the Rose of Decay had already activated her legendary boon: Death Gaze.
This had been her signature ability during her days as the Undead Queen. Once locked within her perception, no living creature could resist; they could only be converted into undead, differing only in how swiftly it occurred.
And now, bolstered by Anbaixiu's power, the Rose of Decay cast her perception across the entirety of the Blood River battlefield.
Her eyes transformed into blood-red crescents, and two trails of tears smelling of brimstone slowly rolled down her cheeks.
It was her first time unleashing her legendary boon upon so many targets at once—targets that were mighty demons, not fragile mortals.
A piercing agony flared in her eyes, and her body felt as if it were being drained hollow.
Yet far from shrinking back, she let out a low laugh.
The sensation of pain was so novel; she had not felt it in ages. Everything inside the Synesthesia Dreamscape had ultimately been somewhat artificial, unable to compare to experiencing it in her own flesh.
A grey line manifested across the battlefield. Though severed into countless fragments across the myriad pockets of fractured space, wherever the grey line swept, the brutal, ferocious demons seemed struck by a curse. They either froze in place like stone or rolled on the ground, wailing in agony.
The grey line, which appeared to advance slowly, was actually washing over tens of thousands of demons every second.
In mere moments, these demons were transformed into undead, becoming puppets under the Rose of Decay's control. Once converted, these undead demons instinctively lunged at any living creature nearby. Undead loathed all living things, demons included.
Countless demons fell into a fratricidal frenzy, butchering one another with claws, fangs, and magic, dying in droves.
The Rose of Decay gripped Anbaixiu's hand tightly. Wielding her power so recklessly left her exhausted and hurting, yet the sensation filled her with intoxicating euphoria.
Such pain, such vibrant life—she had forgotten it for far too long.
Just as she was on the verge of draining herself dry, a colossal surge of magic poured into her body. And not just magic—an indescribable power swiftly mended her physical injuries and even enhanced her legendary ability.
It was the power of the planar laws of the First Layer of Hell.
By now, Anbaixiu could well be considered a deity, and deities could lend their power—just as Talos had forcibly elevated the lich Velsharoon to godhood by lending his divine might.
Anbaixiu was doing the exact same thing, lending his power to the Rose of Decay and briefly stepping her into the divine realm.
It was fortunate that her body was extraordinary, fashioned from the corpse of another god, allowing her to endure it; otherwise, Anbaixiu's crude method of sharing power would have crushed her physique directly.
In any case, she had endured, and she felt herself grow immeasurably powerful.
The blood-red crescents in her eyes spun faster, and the grey line swept across the battlefield with greater speed, soon scouring every fallen warzone.
By the time the Rose of Decay closed her eyes, more than a million demons had perished under her power.
They either turned into undead or were slaughtered by their undead brethren.
Bel sensed the sudden shift across the battlefield and stared in shock at the spectacle before him.
Over a million demons—resolved just like that?
Though they had not yet reached total exhaustion, Bel had already begun considering detonating a portion of the warzones to halt the demonic assault through sheer brute force.
Yet such a tactic could only be used once. A detonated space would enter an extremely unstable state; given enough time, the demons could reopen it, and then it would lose all restraint, allowing them to come and go at will.
If that happened, the Blood River battlefield would descend into even greater chaos, and by the time of the second invasion, they might have to detonate the entire Blood River Fortress.
The fortress was the measure of last resort. Detonating it would obliterate everything on the battlefield in an instant while turning the entire zone into a cursed wasteland where neither devils nor demons could survive.
It was the final trump card, a scorched-earth measure of mutual destruction.
However, that curse would only last a few years, and a few years was nowhere near enough time to rebuild the Blood River Fortress. Without this vital bridgehead, Hell would be powerless to stop the demonic invasion.
In other words, blowing up the Blood River Fortress was tantamount to surrender—tantamount to defeat.
Yet Anbaixiu hadn't needed to resort to that. Bel had no idea what he had done, only that he had dealt with a million demons.
Now that the demons had been turned into undead, the battle would soon end, granting them ample time to repair the breached sectors.
If this method could be deployed a second time, the demonic invasion would pose no threat at all.
Bel was about to seek out Anbaixiu for an explanation, only to discover that the archduke had already returned to his palace and explicitly forbidden anyone from disturbing him.
Inside the Grand Archive, the Rose of Decay kept her eyes shut tight, yet magma-like tears continued to stream from the corners of her eyes.
While channeling his full strength to heal her, Anbaixiu chided her with an aching heart, "Rose, you didn't need to turn so many demons into undead. Half would have been plenty, and the rest could have been left for the devils to handle. Their deaths are no great loss anyway."
The Rose of Decay chuckled. "It had been so long since I felt pain; I couldn't help myself."
"You... haven't awakened some strange predilection, have you?"
Anbaixiu wasn't merely letting his mind wander. Becoming a devil inevitably changed a person. Under the influence of Hell's laws, a devil's desires were magnified. For the Rose of Decay, going from one extreme to another could easily lead to psychological problems.
"Rest assured, I haven't gone mad. It's just... I truly haven't felt alive in so long. But you're right. I need some rest."
Her eyes could hardly be used again in the short term, and Anbaixiu didn't burn money to accelerate time either; there was no need to push her to the brink right now.
Just as he had said, devils weren't worth pitying. Why do so much? Good enough was enough; let Bel fret over the rest.
While using his power to heal her, Anbaixiu manifested another avatar elsewhere to begin dealing with the undead on the battlefield.
Although the converted undead were all branded by the Rose of Decay and had become puppets under her control, the control was not overly precise. If left unattended, they would wipe out the devils as well.
Gathering the undead was only one part of the task; what mattered even more were the scattered souls.
Unlike other planes, this was Hell. Souls that died here had nowhere to go; most lingered where they fell, waiting to be devoured or to dissipate.
Anbaixiu sent a message through all the magic mirrors, ordering all nearby devils to head to the Blood River battlefield and collect every intact soul, each redeemable directly for soul coins.
Instantly, the idle and weaker devils were thrilled. They lacked the courage for battle, but scavenging the aftermath was their forte. They could also gather demon corpses to turn in at Blood River Fortress for merits—a win-win situation.
As the devils swarmed in, Anbaixiu observed them for a moment, and once satisfied that nothing was amiss, left them to it.
He had more important business to handle next.
Death Gaze was not something to be reused lightly. Setting aside whether she could recover in time, repeating the same trick made it vulnerable to countermeasures. While demons were insane, they were by no means stupid; they would undoubtedly come prepared for their second invasion.
Anbaixiu anticipated that during the next assault, the demons would dispatch genuinely formidable powerhouses to target the Rose of Decay, and he would never let his woman take such risks.
Thus, making prudent use of current resources was key.
The successfully converted undead were ordered to stand by on the spot; when the next battle commenced, they would serve as cannon fodder. Such large-scale conversion could not yield high-tier undead, so cannon fodder was all they were good for.
Yet the collected demon souls were of immense value.
Unlike the souls Anbaixiu minted, which could do nothing more than wriggle about stoutly, these demon souls were ferocious, battle-hardened, genuine warriors. Mold them a body, and they could be put to work once again.
As for the bodies...
Within the divine realm of the God of Alchemy, Anbaixiu manifested upon the magic mirror's true form.
Seeing his student appear, the God of Alchemy couldn't help but ask, "So fast? You've already repelled the Abyss's first invasion?"
Anbaixiu chuckled. "Merely an advance vanguard. They were just cannon fodder to begin with; the second wave will be the real trouble. Teacher, are you ready?"
The God of Alchemy nodded. "I've already obtained Oghma's permission. I cannot intervene personally to assist you, but lending some equipment is no problem. What you asked for is ready."
The God of Alchemy handed Anbaixiu a crystal orb.
Crystal-clear and radiating brilliant luster, the orb looked like an exquisite decorative trinket.
Yet upon closer inspection, one would find an ultra-intricate miniature factory sealed within.
Anbaixiu asked, "Has it been tested and verified?"
The God of Alchemy said with pride, "I crafted it myself—how could there possibly be an issue? I've mastered all the data on infernal technology you provided. This was custom-built for Hell's planar laws, guaranteed to be the most efficient, fully automated alchemical factory you've ever seen in your life. As long as you have sufficient raw materials, mass-producing high-tier undead won't be an issue at all. The cost is somewhat high, though; the raw material consumption will be immense."
Anbaixiu chuckled. "No matter. Devils deserve no pity, and neither do demons. The fiercer the war, the cheaper corpses and souls become."
Chapter 622