Chapter 418: She’d Do Anything

The merfolk high priestess emerged slowly from an ornate sea-conch palace, surrounded by a retinue of fish-warrior guards.

Her tail was long and resplendent, a riot of colors that stood out even in the depths of the ocean.

“A Rainbow Tail mermaid?”

Ambrose had heard of the Rainbow Tail merfolk. Their bloodline was innately far more powerful than those of other merfolk; allegedly, the more mana they possessed, the more vivid the colors of their tail, making them a race whose strength could be gauged at a single glance.

The high priestess’s tail was as dazzling as a rainbow itself. She had to be a legend.

But when Ambrose got a look at her face, he was immediately at a loss. She wore an elaborate coral mask adorned with pearls and shells, and her features were completely hidden.

He glanced back at Aiolos. The young man’s face had gone red with barely suppressed anxiety. They had gone to tremendous lengths to find an “Ariel,” but now they couldn’t even see her face. How was he supposed to recognize his wife?

Ambrose could only console him. “Don’t rush. An opportunity will come.”

Aiolos ground his teeth and forced himself to wait. He had sworn an oath to Thanos: no matter what happened, he would follow his friend’s lead.

The merfolk high priestess knew none of this. She approached Ambrose through a cluster of attendants.

“Master Megaman, Lady Aige, it is a pleasure to meet you for the first time. I am the priestess of the Rainbow Tail tribe. You may call me Ariel.”

Ambrose tried to compare this Ariel to the princess of the Ragetide Kingdom. In terms of voice alone, the high priestess’s was far superior. It was warmer and more melodic.

Merfolk were born singers. Even untrained, they could produce voices that put humans to shame. But Ariel’s physique was striking in another way. Including her tail, she was over three meters tall, and she was noticeably larger than the other merfolk around her. The Ragetide princess, by comparison, probably came up to no higher than the tip of her tail.

“High Priestess, it is an honor to meet you,” Ambrose said. “Our visit was rather sudden, so we came without any formal gift to speak of beyond five hundred ixiray carcasses. Given the circumstances, however, I imagine that may be the most fitting gift of all.”

The high priestess had already heard the news, but the sheer number still caught her off guard. Five hundred intact bodies meant the actual number killed had to be far greater.

For the merfolk, this was indeed the best possible gift. Nothing brought more joy than the corpses of one’s enemies.

“Thank you for your contribution to the sea,” she said warmly. “The deaths of these monsters were long overdue.”

“Think nothing of it. We have come seeking an audience with the Goddess Ezdolo and require your services as an intermediary. Naturally, we have to show some sincerity.”

Ambrose’s words gave the high priestess pause. This didn’t sound like an undead tyrant prone to flying into a rage at all. He was being perfectly civil.

She studied him with poorly concealed curiosity. “Communing with a deity is my duty and privilege,” she said, “but I must ask, Master Megaman, what is it you seek from an audience with the Goddess?”

This was the crux of the matter. Communing with a deity was a solemn and taxing ritual that could not be undertaken over trifles. Beyond that, the high priestess worried that the undead had some ulterior motive, that they intended to exploit the ritual to harm the tribe or the goddess herself.

Until she was certain of Ambrose’s true intentions, she would refuse to summon Ezdolo, even if it meant coming to blows with the undead.

Sensing the wariness in her gaze, Ambrose answered evenly, “The reason is simple. I have come into possession of intelligence that could throw the entire ocean into chaos. I wish to bring it to Goddess Ezdolo’s attention. I understand she holds to absolute neutrality and will not take sides, which is precisely why I want to alert her so she may prepare.”

The high priestess sighed. “Master Megaman, that tells me almost nothing. And frankly, you do not live in the sea. To claim you are acting for the sake of oceanic stability seems like a stretch.”

“Why do you say that? I have always sought out peace,” Ambrose replied. “Do you perhaps hold some misunderstanding about me, High Priestess?”

The high priestess thought to herself, “Is this lich simply lying, or is there some deeper scheme at work? How does he have the nerve to call himself a seeker of peace?”

“Master Megaman,” she said, “you must understand that Goddess Ezdolo’s stance is one of absolute neutrality, and so her followers hold no particular prejudice against the undead. But for an undead to claim to seek peace is… not entirely convincing.”

Ambrose let out a long sigh. “I suspected as much. I could tell the moment we arrived that the merfolk had some misconception about me. Master Nephrys of the Blue Algae Tribe looked positively startled when he heard my name, as if I were about to eat him.”

“You can hardly blame him,” the high priestess said calmly. “Faced with a lich who banished an entire kingdom and slaughtered tens of thousands, dragons included, anyone would be frightened.”

“And there’s the misunderstanding.” Ambrose smiled. “I’ll set aside the matter of the Unholy Kingdom for now, which is too complicated to explain over a mere few sentences. As for the dragons, I headed to their isles to prevent them from being deceived by the githarks into launching a foolhardy assault on the continent. Thanks to the favor of the Goddess of Fate, I resolved the githark problem without incident, and the overseas dragons survived without a scratch. It was a satisfying outcome all around.

“As for the claim that I massacred tens of thousands, that’s even more unjust. I crafted my own phylactery through alchemy, and I have never needed to slaughter humans for their souls.”

The high priestess found herself bewildered. She pressed further. “What about the people of Lyon?”

“Lyon dispatched seven legends and an entire legion, but I was merciful. Even after defeating them, I sent them all away unharmed. If you doubt me, I have a memory crystal recording of everything.” He extended it toward her.

This was the recording that he intended to share with the world to strip Lyon of any claim to the moral high ground.”

The high priestess took the crystal but did not immediately examine it.

If he was willing to hand it over so openly, it was probably genuine. There was no point in telling a lie so easy to disprove.

“You didn’t even kill them?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Lyon and the undead were mortal enemies. If he’d won, why hadn’t he turned those seven legends into puppets? What kind of lich showed that kind of restraint?

“As I said,” Ambrose replied with a patient sigh, “I have always sought out peace. I once helped end a war between the dwarves and the elves. Time and again, when Lyon has provoked me first, I have done nothing worse than take prisoners—and released them all afterward.

“A friend of mine once said she hoped to build a world where every race could live in peace. I find that ideal deeply admirable, and I want to do my part. This visit to Goddess Ezdolo is, in truth, for the peace of the seas. But the intelligence I carry is too sensitive to share openly here, and I would rather not risk it being overheard.

“If you find me worthy of even a little trust, High Priestess, perhaps we could speak privately.”

The high priestess studied Ambrose’s face, but a skull offered no expression, no tells, and no way to read his thoughts.

She gripped the memory crystal tightly. At last, she spoke: “Then please wait, Master Megaman. I will give you my answer shortly.”

With that, the merfolk high priestess retreated into her sea-conch palace.

The moment the great shell sealed shut behind her, she turned to the memory crystal.

What she saw left her more shaken than before.

This lich had a paladin serving under him?

And that paladin was able to beat seven legends alone? What manner of terrifying warrior was that?

And to think the Lord of Dawn raised no objection to a paladin of that caliber was working for a lich… If the deity had harbored even the slightest displeasure, that paladin’s oaths would have shattered, his Holy Light long since guttered. No divine power could sustain such radiance from a broken vow.

The high priestess felt her mind spinning. She had been cut off from the mainland too long. What on earth had been happening up there? Paladins served liches now?

But bewilderment could not change the evidence she held in her hands. Perhaps the lich was telling the truth. Perhaps the Holy Light was truly on his side, which would mean he had more claim to righteousness than Lyon did.

The Lord of Dawn had not seen fit to strike this lich down with divine punishment. That spoke for itself.

“A lich who sought for peace…” She shook her head slowly. That was even more absurd than a greedy undead tyrant.

She called the senior figures of the tribe together. The memory crystal passed from hand to hand, drawing gasps at every turn. When everyone had been thoroughly staggered by what it contained, the high priestess put a critical question to them: if the lich truly came in the name of peace, should they agree to summon Goddess Ezdolo?

Silence fell over the gathering, but one by one, they began to nod.

The answer did not surprise her. A lich more righteous than a paladin carried tremendous weight. If he said the ocean was heading toward a catastrophe, it was very likely true.

In that case, the goddess Ezdolo had to be told.

Before long, Ambrose was ushered into the sea-conch palace. He and Ariel sat across from each other, alone.

“Master Megaman,” the high priestess said, “only the two of us are present here. The sea-conch is warded against eavesdropping, and no one outside can hear a word we say. Now, tell me: what is this great matter that could throw the ocean into chaos?”

Ambrose cut straight to the chase. “High Priestess, I suspect that the god of the kouto is plotting to seize the faith of other deities—the Ragetide Kingdom, the merfolk tribes, and perhaps every other race in the sea.”

The high priestess’s eyes went wide.

A struggle over faith? Every such conflict had been a war of the most brutal kind. These waters had endured more than one large-scale divine war, each one ignited by clashes of faith.

The logic was simple: living space was finite. More believers for one god meant fewer for another.

And if it was that particular kouto goddess behind this… There was no need to question it further. That deity was unhinged. There was nothing she wouldn’t do.

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