Lich for Hire

Chapter 504: Wedding Arrangements

Having the operative stationed on the island walk a few circuits proved a genuine eye-opener for the young emperor, who continued watching from all the way back in Lyon.

Every completed exhibition area was packed wall-to-wall with visitors. He'd never imagined there was a way to do business quite like this.

No direct sales at all, but merely exhibitions...

Recorded memory crystals played around the clock, walking viewers through everything from raw material processing to the final production.

Granted, they'd only recorded some relatively minor, non-sensitive stages of the process, but there was always someone in the background shouting slogans at full volume, like "Genuine materials guaranteed! Ten times your money back if it's fake!" or "Dragon scales require a full one hundred and eighty days of curing to reach peak efficiency!" And then there were the finished pieces of magical equipment on display: enchanted armor that could withstand multiple direct hits from a Fireball spell, magical weapons boasting every conceivable effect imaginable, and more. The entire exhibition floor buzzed with energy.

Outlandish advertising slogans that were nevertheless impossible to argue with, paired with the sheer scale and spectacle of the production footage, made it awfully easy to believe that famous tagline: "God of Alchemy products, premium quality guaranteed!"

And once you believed that line, naturally, you'd follow the posted instructions straight to the back offices, where dedicated representatives would sit down with you to negotiate an order. No deal under one hundred thousand gold was even entertained—it was strictly high-end business only.

During just one casual walkthrough, the young emperor witnessed several million-gold deals close on the spot.

No wonder Angus Watson had spent gold in such a cavalier manner. This lich played dirty. It was hard to imagine anyone capable of resisting temptation on this scale.

What frustrated the young emperor, though, was that he still couldn't dig up a single scrap of information related to those mysterious magical inscriptions.

Lyon's archives did contain material on the subject, but all that remained had been reduced to scattered fragments, with every crucial section either missing entirely, eaten away by insects, or so badly stained the writing could no longer be read.

He'd even applied his power over time directly to the pages, restoring them as best he could, only to find the recovered text made even less sense than before. Much of what remained was repetitive, its internal logic incoherent.

After hours of digging through what little he could find, the only conclusion he could draw was this: the magic circle originated from some ancient magical civilization. Precisely which one, and from what era, remained a total mystery, but it appeared to be some kind of circle designed to gather and concentrate immense quantities of magical power, capable of granting its user strength that transcended the mortal realm entirely.

"Magic like that actually exists?"

The young emperor's brows furrowed more deeply.

If he were being honest with himself, the real reason he'd dared to treat Lyon as his own personal testing ground, taking one reckless risk after another, was because he wielded considerable individual power of his own.

A time dragon's power was unmatched against mortals.

The original Arthur Lyon had won his fight through sheer luck. The Dragon Tyrant hadn't merely lost his own artifact. He hadn't even bothered to take Arthur Lyon, a "mere human," seriously during their duel. He'd lost for no reason.

Given a second chance, Arthur Lyon's odds of winning again would fall well below ten percent.

Given how the lich typically operated, and given that he already knew the emperor's true identity, with Arthur Lyon right by his side, the emperor had to assume the lich understood his true capabilities.

And yet, knowing all of that, the lich had still invited him personally to attend this conference.

The lich must have found some way to counter a time dragon's power. And that method was very likely the magic circle blanketing the entire island.

It was a reasonable enough deduction. The young emperor felt he'd finally grasped a key piece of the puzzle.

Once this ancient magic circle activated, his own power over time would presumably be suppressed. Did he still have anything else to fall back on, in that case?

He had no immediate answer to that question, but he still felt supremely confident regardless.

Plenty of his own people remained stationed on the island. Quietly sabotaging the magic circle wouldn't be difficult at all. A few alchemical bombs on a delayed fuse would do the trick nicely. Or, alternatively, he could locate the circle's nexus and simply seize control of it outright.

Schemes and conspiracies were only truly dangerous while they remained undiscovered. Now that he'd worked out the secret behind the magic circle, he had plenty of ways to counter it.

"I really would rather avoid antagonizing this lich... With his backing, my future empire would never have to worry about gold ever again. Surely I can win him over to my side before things come to blows. If Arthur Lyon managed it once, surely I can too."

The young emperor abandoned his search through the ancient texts and turned his attention instead to reviewing the treasury, trying to work out just how much gold he could realistically offer to buy this lich's loyalty.

What he'd witnessed on that island had made one thing abundantly clear: this lich was wealthy beyond the means of most nations. Naming some careless lowball figure would only get him mocked.

But Lyon wasn't the only kingdom preparing frantically for this conference. Every single kingdom was scrambling in its own way.

The busiest of them all wasn't Lyon. It wasn't Ambrose either, despite being the host. It was the people of Ragetide.

Thanos was getting married right on this very island, on the very same day as the conference itself.

To all other kingdoms, Thanos's wedding was a matter for the gods themselves to concern themselves with. It was no mortal affair. The mortals were only expected to show up and bear witness.

Even the revived Dragon Tyrant hadn't paid the matter much mind.

Gods were forbidden from interfering with mortal affairs at will. This was one of Aion's fundamental laws, and even Thanos, the Lord of Storms, was bound by it. Even if this god decided that he wanted to strike down the emperor of Lyon personally on some pretext or another, he still wouldn't be able to unleash his full power. He would remain bound within the same limits placed on every mortal.

Take Aiolos, for instance. He was a being Thanos himself had created. In the end, all that really set him apart was that he couldn't die; his personal combat strength was nothing particularly remarkable.

And so long as no god personally intervened, the power of time remained the strongest shield and spear in existence, unmatched by anyone who might show up.

Because of all this, most of the conference's guests approached the wedding with a distinctly detached, hands-off attitude. At most, they'd serve as witnesses who were curious to see exactly how gods got married.

The Ragetide Kingdom, however, was a different story entirely. Thanos was the very god they worshiped. In preparation for their patron deity's wedding, every last one of them had thrown themselves into a state of frantic, sleepless excitement for days on end.

A god manifesting an avatar to descend into the mortal realm and hold a wedding ceremony right there among mortals—what kind of unimaginable honor was that?! Not once in the entire history of the Ragetide Kingdom had anything like this ever happened. No—more accurately, nothing like this had happened in the entire recorded history of their faith, period.

But with no precedent to follow, what were they supposed to do?

Who could possibly know what rituals a god's wedding required, what order of proceedings to follow, or what offerings needed to be made?

The Ragetide Kingdom's priests tore through every ancient text they could find and argued furiously among themselves for days on end. The disputes eventually escalated all the way to the dueling grounds, leaving several priests seriously injured. Even so, they still failed to reach a consensus.

Princess Ariel, too, found herself at a loss. There genuinely was no precedent to draw on for a god's wedding. If the ceremony went wrong in any way, it risked being outright blasphemy against a god. With no other recourse, Ariel had no choice but to formally request a divine revelation.

But the response Thanos gave her left her utterly speechless.

"Leave it entirely to the lich."

That was Thanos's complete answer.

Ariel had simply stood there, stunned, for a long moment. Who exactly was supposed to be Thanos's most devoted follower here? Every single matter kept getting handed off to that lich instead!

But a god's command couldn't be defied. Ariel had no choice but to hurry off and find Ambrose to ask him how the wedding should be arranged.

Ambrose, it seemed, had been prepared for exactly this. He produced a thick set of notes for the wedding and handed it over to Ariel.

The contents of the first few pages seemed reasonable enough—simple but suitably grand rituals drawn from established worship, including stormpriests performing hymns of praise by invoking lightning, ancient war-dance performances, and more. Ragetide already had established records for all of this. None of it would be difficult to execute.

But further into the document, things took a somewhat bloodier turn—though this, too, was firmly within Ragetide tradition: a duel held before the god himself.

Thanos's famously violent, tempestuous nature made this exact kind of offering a natural fit. A warrior's duel had always been an indispensable part of Thanos's worship.

"But... you're asking every kingdom in attendance to send forward a champion to participate in this duel. Will they actually agree to that?"

Ariel was no longer the na?ve princess who understood nothing of the wider world. After everything she'd been through, she'd naturally learned to think several steps further ahead than most.

Ambrose was actually proposing that the wedding's honored guests themselves take part in a duel? Who in their right mind would accept that?

But Ambrose only said, with an air of great mystery, "Don't worry. The gods have already agreed. They'll all be showing Thanos this much respect. When the time comes, every single kingdom will send forward one of their own champions to take part in the duel."

"The gods have agreed?"

Ariel's eyes went wide.

That seemed utterly impossible. The elven gods and Thanos hardly got along, and the Lord of Dawn was practically Thanos's sworn enemy.

No matter how she looked at it, something didn't add up. Would the Lord of Dawn genuinely allow one of his own faithful to risk their life dueling another guest, purely to add to Thanos's festivities?

But Ambrose spoke with total, unwavering confidence. "Don't worry about it. I'll handle this part myself. Since Thanos has already entrusted the entire wedding to my planning, all you need to do, Princess Ariel, is follow my plan exactly as written."

Ariel still wasn't entirely convinced, but the divine revelation had been unambiguous, and she had no choice but to accept Ambrose's arrangements.

With the matter of the duel settled, Ariel continued reading through the wedding plans—only to stumble upon another strange matter further along.

"Master Megaman, this section states that every single attendee at the wedding must wear a specially crafted ring. Does this ring carry some particular symbolic significance?"

Ariel had initially assumed that this was simply some ceremonial item and part of the ritual proceedings until Ambrose slid an elegant ring onto her own finger and explained, "This is a lie-detecting ring. During Thanos's wedding, no one present will be able to tell a single lie. Otherwise, the ring will flare bright red. It's a god's wedding, after all. We certainly can't allow anyone to speak insincerely and risk offending a god with their dishonesty. Don't you agree?"

"No one at all will be able to lie?" Ariel asked, a faint sense of unease creeping in. Something about this felt off, though she couldn't quite place what.

Ambrose nodded, smiling warmly. "I'm certain Thanos will be delighted by a wedding filled with nothing but pure sincerity."

Ariel reached out and grabbed hold of Ambrose's bony hand, sliding the ring firmly onto his finger in turn, and asked, "Master Megaman, are you absolutely certain you haven't lied to me?"

Ambrose blinked, caught off guard. What had suddenly gotten into Ariel?

"Princess, why would you even ask something like that? It was Thanos himself who instructed you to follow my arrangements."

But Ariel refused to let go, gripping his hand tightly. "It's true that Thanos instructed me to come seek your advice. But your plan is genuinely bizarre. Is any of this actually for the Lord of Storms' wedding? Master Megaman, have you truly not deceived me?"

Ariel was no fool. Everyone carried a secret or two; even the people closest to her must have lied to her at some point in her life. Forcing every single guest at this event to be incapable of lying would cause enormous chaos. The wedding itself could very well be ruined in the process.

And if anything actually went wrong, it would be Ragetide who bore the brunt of Thanos's wrath.

As the princess of her nation, Ariel needed to be absolutely certain of one thing, at the very least. The small details might not matter—but she needed to know exactly what this lich was actually trying to accomplish.

Ambrose shook his head. "Everything I've arranged is known and approved by Thanos. If you don't believe me, you're more than welcome to seek confirmation directly from your own god."

Ariel glanced down at the ring on Ambrose's hand. It showed no reaction whatsoever.

Ariel's brow furrowed. Something suddenly occurred to her. She pressed further. "Wait. That's not right. You didn't actually answer my question directly. I asked whether you've deceived me. You answered by talking about what Thanos knows instead."

Ambrose felt a flicker of embarrassment. Since when had this gullible young woman grown so sharp? Shouldering real responsibility truly had a way of sharpening one's wits along with it.

As sparks of lightning began to flicker in Ariel's eyes, Ambrose spoke up quickly. "I have never deceived you—"

The moment the words left his mouth, the ring began glowing red.

But before Ariel could react, Ambrose hurried to add, "Well, claiming I've never deceived you at all would be a stretch. In my dealings with Ragetide, I have, admittedly, made rather more profit than what's shown on paper. I'm sure you can understand that much—I am a businessman, after all. But when it comes to this wedding specifically, I swear to you, I haven't lied to you, and I haven't deceived you in any way."

The ring's red glow finally faded. Only then did Ariel release Ambrose's hand.

The princess said, rather pleased with herself, "Honestly, I already suspected as much. There was no way the great and famous Master Megaman would ever make so many genuine concessions purely for Ragetide's sake. Still, hearing you actually admit it satisfies me well enough. But now that you've confessed as much, surely there's still room to renegotiate our split of profits?"

Ariel beamed at him, leaving Ambrose visibly caught off guard.

The princess really had grown up.

Fortunately for him, though, she still had no idea what the real lie actually was.