[Tree] Chapter 644: Tip the Scales (Patreon)

While Morrigan had void-stepped back to Moros, Diana had decided to remain lurking in the fog around the lighthouse all night, and was glad she had.

She had seen everything and relayed it to Ashlock.

"The Wavescale disciples are fleeing. Should I pursue them?"

Ashlock answered with a question of his own. "Do you think you could defeat Ferrin as he is right now with your clone?"

Diana glanced through the open window at the giant of a man who was staring at the corpse of the Nascent Soul Realm Elder whose head he had crushed like a mere fruit. Her clone carried some traits of her main body, but was still a few stages behind in cultivation prowess. The trade-off was that her clone was immortal, crafted from nothing but demonic mist.

"No," Diana admitted. "He's somewhere in the mid-stages of the Monarch Realm, but his spiritual pressure is even far beyond that."

"Then what makes you think you can chase after the Wavescale Sect disciples and wipe out a sect that Ferrin fears?" Ashlock sighed. "Though I've not seen or met them, I know you've taken a liking to them, but you can't compromise us to save them. Elder Maren was already a risk, and now Ferrin knows she's been in contact with an Archdemon. What if this reached the ears of the Jade Emperor's Consortium outpost? If Elder Maren's reaction to you was that severe, they may send someone to exterminate you, which will make quietly conquering these islands harder."

Diana frowned. Everything Ashlock was saying was true, but it was so hard to find good apples among the rotten cultivators. Ferrin's heart demon had been so pathetically weak, it was almost cute. He undoubtedly had a heart of gold, as shown by his willingness to drink poison to try to save his sect. A little foolish, perhaps. But the intentions were worthy of respect.

She wanted to get him and Elder Maren on their side, and bring them into the Ashfallen Empire one day.

"This is a war they brought upon themselves," Ashlock added distractedly. "I need your focus on dealing with the fact that the Ninth Wave Sect has discovered our rift. I have the Radiant Dawn flagship in position alongside Magnus Redclaw and General Bob. They should be able to deal with anyone who enters besides Yun Zhilan and Uldrenneth—"

"You don't need to worry about Yun Zhilan venturing into the rift."

Ashlock paused. "Why not?"

"The Ninth Wave Sect were the ones who spread the rumor that it's a treasure realm. If they truly believed it to be a treasure realm, you think Yun Zhilan would have let the news escape her sect?"

"Oh, that's clever," Ashlock muttered. "If she told them it was a rift to the 9th Layer, nobody would willingly go first. But if they think it's a treasure realm, it becomes a race."

Diana hummed in agreement. "Whether Yun Zhilan's plan is to weaken the other sects before the Red Tide or use them as sacrificial pawns to investigate the rift, I'm not sure. Perhaps Khaos could find out?"

"I'll ask when she returns," Ashlock agreed. "But this changes things. If the Sovereigns won't make a move, anyone who ventures into the 9th Layer will be easy pickings. Though I suspect that when the first group to enter doesn't return alive, the number of sacrifices offering themselves to me will decrease. A shame, as I could use more Monarch Realm Ents..."

Ashlock's words struck Diana with an idea—one that would progress their plans and give justification for assisting Ferrin and Elder Maren to overcome the war with the Wavescale Sect.

"It wouldn't decrease if the cultivators of the Sunken Crown Isles had a success case."

"Are you thinking of making Ferrin and Elder Maren that example?" Ashlock guessed.

"That's what I was considering just now."

"Mhm, yes, that could work. It would also give Ferrin a convenient excuse for how he overcame the Uldrenneth blood. I trust you and your judgment, Diana, so I will leave this up to you. Proceed as you see fit."

"Thank you, Ashlock," Diana replied, condensing the demonic mist into a solid body on the windowsill. The pair who had been cleaning up the Wavescale Elder's body only noticed her when her wings blocked out the sunlit fog, darkening the room.

Ferrin was the first to respond as he stepped in front of Elder Maren.

"Who are you?" He demanded. His spiritual pressure was so strong it made Diana's mist-made body haze at the edges. Her clone's weakness in his presence seemed to give Ferrin more confidence as he glared at her.

"Ferrin," Elder Maren panicked, grabbing his shoulder. "That's a clone made by the Archdemon. Don't speak so harshly toward her."

"The Archdemon?!"

To say Ferrin's composure crumbled would be an understatement. His spiritual pressure was withdrawn like a sharp breath, and he dropped to one knee with a thud. Elder Maren followed suit and knelt beside her Patriarch.

"Forgive my lack of manners," Ferrin said and respectfully bowed his head. "I just declared war against a rival sect, so I'm a little on edge, yer understand?"

"I know," Diana said, smiling and enjoying the fear imposed by her Archdemon lineage. "I heard and saw everything."

They both flinched.

She dropped down from the windowsill and lazily spread her feathered wings crafted from demonic mist.

"Ferrin, humor me for a moment."

The man lifted his head. "Yes?"

"If you were to fight against the Wavescale Sect's Patriarch in your current condition, would you win?"

Ferrin fell into contemplation. "It's... possible. Torvun Wavescale's cultivation is still a stage higher than mine, and the tamed sea serpent he rides into battle is in the Nascent Soul Realm. But these pills Elder Maren got from you are truly miraculous. Not only did I ascend a stage, but my spirit roots are clear, and my soul is a calm ocean. In a battle of attrition, I'd win. But..."

Diana raised a brow, compelling Ferrin to gulp and finish his thought.

"Wars between sects are never solved one-on-one by the Patriarchs. Our job is to defend the islands from ruin while our Elders and Disciples fight to the death on the open ocean." His jaw clenched. "My rash decision has condemned my sect members to certain death, as we are heavily outnumbered."

"I see," Diana mused as she settled into a chair and fell silent. While she already had her plan set, she had to play the role of a whimsical Archdemon and unsettle them a little. Elder Maren had already been sufficiently traumatized, but Diana could see the slightest hint of doubt in Ferrin's eyes.

She would make sure to set him straight.

"What about the other Patriarchs? Could you defeat them?" she asked, curious about the answer, as she believed she had a decent gauge of Ferrin's strength now, so she could use that to rank the other Patriarchs.

Ferrin seemed uneasy. "I rarely interact with the other Patriarchs, but I believe I could contest against most of them in my current condition, besides Yun Zhilan, of course."

Diana tapped her chin in contemplation.

So, Yun Zhilan aside, Ferrin believed the gap between the sects came down not to their Patriarchs' individual strength, but to how many cultivators each could field, and how strong those cultivators were on average. It was quite different from how sects operated on the 9th Layer, where the strongest cultivator was considered the major threat.

An entire sect relying on life atop an island sure does change the dynamic. Because if the island is destroyed, the sect is doomed even if all its members and leaders are alive. Therefore, protecting the island is the Patriarch's job, not dominating a battlefield.

Unable to handle the tense silence, Ferrin leaned down and planted his forehead on the ground.

"Archdemon, if you saw and heard everything, you would have heard my question to Elder Maren. Does your presence here mean you may be willing to offer some assistance in the battle?"

"No," Diana said flatly. "A war with the Wavescale Sect is not in my plans, nor is their destruction of interest to my client."

Ferrin's shoulders sagged.

"However, you two are of use to me, as is the Saltstone Sect. While I will not enter battle myself, I'm willing to tip the scales a little."

She raised her hand and dove into the few spatial rings she put on this clone. They were filled with riches seized from fallen Empyrea noble families, and Diana hadn't had a use for any of them until now.

Without holding back, she let everything stored flood into the room with a clatter like raining gold. The spilling riches drew the pair's attention, with Ferrin especially speechless at the sight.

"Ferrin," Diana said, slowly extending a clawed hand toward him. "Will you become this Archdemon's champion?"

Ferrin stared at the offered hand, but didn't immediately take it.

"What is the cost?" he asked gruffly. As expected of a Patriarch and seasoned warrior, he wasn't so easily won over.

Diana looked into his determined gaze. She wanted to say there was no cost and that his heading into battle would actually help spread the treasure-realm rumors. But this was a man who had willingly drunk poison to save his sect.

He wanted there to be a cost.

Diana grinned, showing off her inhuman fangs like she imagined another Archdemon would when making a deal.

"Your soul is the price, and should you fail in your duties," Diana slowly glanced at Elder Maren, "then it will be Elder Maren's soul that I dine on."

Ferrin's gaze hardened. "And my mission?"

Again, Diana simply wanted this good-hearted man to survive the coming war. But that wasn't what a self-sacrificing warrior wanted to be told. Sometimes it was hard to pretend to be an evil Archdemon, but Diana had hung around Stella enough to pick up a thing or two.

"Your mission," she made her clone grin wider than humanly possible to really sell it, "is to spread suffering and fear throughout the isles. To tip the scales of balance between the sects and instill chaos ahead of the Red Tide's arrival."

And to do it all while wearing armor and wielding weapons that people will believe are from the treasure realm, Diana thought, but didn't say aloud. She believed Ferrin was a good man, which made the chance he betrayed an Archdemon's plans to the isle's Sovereign that much more likely.

Ferrin's expression fell, and Diana wondered if she had pushed the act too far. He was a good man, so taking on a mission to fulfill what he believed were an Archdemon's twisted desires might conflict with his good nature.

Just as Diana felt awkward with her hand held out, Ferrin looked at her without faltering.

"To hell with them all." He clasped her offered hand as if signing his own death. "I will be your champion, Archdemon. All I ask is that as I head to battle, my sect is protected."

Diana pretended to consider his offer for a moment. Naturally, she planned to protect the island, as it would serve as the Ashfallen Empire's launch pad into the rest of the 8th Layer.

"I will watch over the island. You have my word," Diana said eventually, withdrawing her hand. "Now, my champion, pick whatever you need for your conquest."

She levitated above the mountain of priceless heirlooms, spreading her wings, and watched Ferrin with interest. What would he pick? There was almost too much to choose from, and none of the artifacts were labeled or came with instructions. He would have to choose by instinct alone.

Ferrin hesitantly approached the pile, and after some digging, he fished out a goblet studded with gems. Shaking his head, he put it aside and pulled out a jade hairpin next. Elder Maren watched from her knees and seemed to want to help, but didn't dare touch anything.

"You can take what you need too, Elder Maren. My champion will need a loyal attendant," Diana said, and chucked her another pill bottle that Elder Maren fumbled to catch. "Take those pills too. I want those serving me to have glowing skin and souls clear of heart demons."

"U-Understood." Elder Maren stowed the pills away in her spatial ring, earning a surprised look from Ferrin.

"You can have a spatial ring too," Diana said, floating down and sliding the ring onto Ferrin's hand personally. "I put a letter in there. Don't you dare read it until your mission is done."

Ferrin gulped. "As you wish."

"Good." Diana turned to the pile. The Empyrea nobles had loved their finery, and most of what Diana had swept out of their vaults was the sort of treasure that impressed at a ball rather than on a battlefield. But there were a few real artifacts in the pile. She had made sure of it.

"Keep searching among my riches, and you will find something worthy of using," Diana said, moving to sit down again as this was going to take a while. Elder Maren rushed in front of her and pulled up the largest, most comfortable chair. She smiled in response and took her seat.

After some more searching through useless ornaments each worth a noble household, Ferrin's hand stopped.

"Found something?" Diana asked.

Ferrin answered by pulling a battleaxe free from the pile by the head. It was crafted from a dark-blue metal that rippled like a pond's surface when he flipped it around to hold it by the handle.

A weapon from House Virelios, Diana recalled. She had personally cleared out their estates on the floating islands above Empyrea after they won the war. The Virelios family had been water cultivators for generations, and that axe had hung in Droskan's own armory.

"It suits you," Diana commented, and meant it. The battleaxe seemed suitable for a titan, and at over two meters tall and built like a brick wall, it fit in Ferrin's rugged hand.

"Can I really have this?" Ferrin asked.

"If it will help you chop the Wavescale Patriarch in half, then of course," Diana said mildly, but she had seen how that slimy Elder had treated Elder Maren. If not for Ashlock holding her back, she would have followed them back and slaughtered them herself.

But unfairly kitting out a Patriarch of one sect in stolen relics and sending him to handle the matter himself seemed far more... diplomatic. It also kept Diana out of the limelight, and let Ferrin and Elder Maren get their revenge.

Overall, it was a win-win.

Ferrin's next find was a mantle of layered scale, each plate the size of a coin and the color of seafoam, that he pulled free from under a jeweled saddle. Virelios again. Diana remembered it draped over a throne rather than a body, and had assumed it was ceremonial. But as Ferrin swung it over his shoulders and the scales rippled to fit his enormous frame, she had to admit it looked far more at home on him than it had on Droskan's chair.

Now he had a weapon and armor.

Elder Maren, on the other hand, was struggling. She worked through the pile carefully, each little trinket and artifact catching her wonder.

Diana decided her presence was likely suffocating, so she rose from the comfortable chair Elder Maren had so kindly pulled out for her and headed for the door.

"I will leave you two to it," she said casually, leaving the pile behind. "Elder Maren, I'll be planting something at your grove if you don't mind."

"P-Please go ahead, Archdemon," Elder Maren said.

"Enjoy yourselves." Diana smiled and left.

Anyone else leaving such wealth unattended with strangers would be crazy, but Diana didn't care for any of those items. Should they try to take more than they needed, it would only expose their true nature.

Diana floated as a mist down the steep stone steps and reformed at the bottom in the little alcove of mangrove trees.

"Ashlock, I'm ready," Diana called out, and she could sense that Moros was close by.

Qi rippled through the air as a desolation rift was torn open. From within the swirling darkness, a black tree root snaked out, followed by a few more.

Like a giant octopus, a demonic tree slithered through the rift.