"Are you a deity?"

The moment Ambrose asked that question, Aige's faint smile disappeared. She studied the lich before her with careful intensity.

After a long pause, she said, "You're more perceptive than I expected. Either you're very familiar with gods, or you're close to taking that final step yourself. Which is it?"

"I'd say I'm simply familiar with gods," Ambrose replied, keeping his tone as steady as possible. "I've witnessed the descent of the Mistress of Pain, the Goddess of the Night, and the Lord of Dawn."

Aige: "..."

This lich really did have a talent for sounding unreliable. The Mistress of Pain and the Goddess of the Night were one thing, but if the Lord of Dawn had truly descended before him, the lich should have been reduced to purified ash long ago.

And yet Aige quickly realized he was telling the truth.

She had said earlier that there was little in these seas she did not know. It was a form of authority, a unique dominion. That authority now told her that every word Ambrose had just spoken was true.

Had he truly survived the Lord of Dawn's divine descent?

"Oh, and my master became the God of Alchemy," Ambrose added casually.

Aige: "..."

Even that was true.

She let out a soft laugh. "The President's judgment has always been excellent."

Though he was a lich, Ambrose very nearly exhaled in relief.

He had deliberately laid out his entire background for one reason only: self-preservation.

Aige was a deity, one who had truly descended upon the mortal plane. She wasn't speaking through the void nor subject to heavy restrictions.

Even though they were both fellow members of the Elegiac Society, Ambrose couldn't assume that she would immediately be friendly. If she happened to be in a bad mood and cursed him on a whim, what then?

Better to display his connections up front and make her think twice before attacking him.

Aige seemed to see through him. "Relax. I may have sufficient power, but I'm still one step short of true divinity. And you're a member of the Elegiac Society. Why would I harm you?"

Not yet a deity?

Wasn't that arguably worse?

True deities were constrained by Aion's laws and could not interfere with mortals freely. Even the Lord of Dawn had been forced to watch as Ambrose extorted fifty million gold from his paladins.

But someone who had not yet ascended would have no such restrictions.

"Senior Aige," Ambrose asked cautiously, "might I inquire about our President's true identity? He isn't... also a god, is he?"

Aige did not answer. "Ask him yourself. I cannot answer that question for him."

"I understand," Ambrose said gravely.

The implication was clear enough.

What kind of being could command the respect of a demigod like her? Only a true deity.

The President was likely undead. An undead god... Could he be Valarun?! Ambrose hadn't exactly been reverent to him in private. Should he quickly inform his master and have him volunteer to become a lowly petitioner in that divine realm?

"Your thoughts rise and fall like the tide," Aige observed coolly. "Surely you didn't travel all this way to see me just to frighten yourself?"

Her words made Ambrose calm down. He had come for a divine artifact, not an existential crisis.

Even if the President truly were Valarun, a true god could not easily meddle in mortal affairs.

With that in mind, Ambrose produced the Necromantic Codex and sent a message into the group chat. [Megaman Tiga: Recently I've come to feel that the God of Liches is truly worthy of respect. I haven't offered proper prayers before, which is rather unbecoming for a lich. I will correct this going forward. Please take note.]

[Human-Hater: What are you playing at now? I don't get it.]

[Dullahan's Crown: I don't get it either. Do liches have to worship the God of Liches? I've never seen a dracolich pray to him.]

[Human-Hater: Are you stupid? Dracoliches worship the Dragon God!]

......

Ambrose closed the Codex and looked back at Aige. "Now then, where were we?"

Her expression was utterly flat. This lich was unlike any undead she had ever encountered. As expected of the Elegiac Society, not a single member within was ordinary.

"You came for the elven divine artifact, didn't you?" she prompted.

"Yes! I was hoping you could help me retrieve it, Captain Aige. It's of extreme importance to me."

With a casual gesture, threads of light formed in the water before Aige, weaving into a detailed map.

Scattered across the ocean were hundreds of islands of varying size, most of which belonged to the Ragetide Kingdom. Taken together, they covered considerable territory.

"I've already located the artifact," Aige said. "But it lies within the sphere of the Ragetide Kingdom."

She illuminated a large island, on which a vast city sprawled against a sloping mountain.

At its center lay a great lake, one connected directly to the sea.

"These elves..." Ambrose muttered. "Why stash a treasure inside someone else's capital?"

"Based on the information you provided, the artifact was left there seventeen hundred years ago. At that time, the Ragetide Kingdom did not exist. It was merely a barren island. Only after the War between the Lord of Dawn and Lord of Storms did the Sons of Storm withdraw from the mainland and establish their kingdom there."

"The war between the Lord of Dawn and the Lord of Storms? When was that?"

"About a thousand years ago. The Lord of Dawn issued a divine decree to suppress the faith of the Lord of Storms. The Lyon Empire mobilized its full strength and destroyed most of the Lord of Storms' temples on the continent. The Stormborn were forced to flee and found a nation overseas."

"What? Why isn't this recorded in history?"

Ambrose prided himself on being well-read, yet he had never encountered mention of such a monumental event.

"The gods covered it up for reasons I'm not privy to. But those of us who have lived long enough remember it well."

Ambrose did not doubt her. She had no reason to lie to him.

So this was that monumental event from a millennium ago that the group chat was talking about! A war between two great gods would surely qualify.

From the current state of the world, it was clear that the Lord of Storms must have suffered at least a partial defeat against the Lord of Dawn in that war.

Could the sudden appearance of the President of the Elegiac Society mean that another divine war was brewing?

The God of Alchemy had once said the gods had been tranquil for too long. More chaos was about to arise—and perhaps that chaos would be Ambrose's opportunity for ascension.

Was Aige waiting for such an opportunity as well?

She was a genuine demigod, perhaps only a single step from forging true divinity. If she were to act, there might be no mortal capable of opposing her.

Then again, within the group chat alone, there were at least two others of similar standing.

Non-Vegetarian and Poet were likely on the same level as Mute herself.

The Elegiac Society's power was terrifying. If they stood united, perhaps even the Lyon Empire would fall.

And if unity was the goal, then building a good relationship with Aige was essential.

"Captain Aige, could I ask for your assistance in retrieving the artifact? If there is anything you require, I will do my utmost to assist you."

He did not offer a price outright. A demigod would not lack for gold; it was better to learn what she truly desired.

Aige spoke like a patient elder. "There's no need. I already promised Rose that I would secure it for you."

"You're too kind. Is there truly nothing I can help with?" Ambrose pressed.

She considered his offer. "If you insist... I've heard you are highly knowledgeable about souls?"

Ambrose nodded confidently. "I'm certain that my understanding is second only to divine wisdom."

He meant it. With his Mimetic Soul, he could forge souls outright and even manipulate them directly, living and dead ones alike. No one who lacked divinity could possibly know more about souls than he did.

And those deities whose domains had nothing to do with souls surely weren't a match for him either.

"Then tell me," Aige continued. "Is it possible to reassemble a soul that has already completely dissipated?"

Ambrose frowned. "That would require a Wish spell."

She shook her head. "No. Even Wish cannot do it. I've tried."

"That's impossible. Restoring a dissipated soul should fall within the permissible scope of Wish. At worst, the revived soul might suffer memory loss or madness, but it cannot simply fail."

"It failed," Aige said softly. "I asked the President to secure me a Wish, but it produced no effect at all. A precious Wish, wasted."

Ambrose stroked his chin, thinking carefully.

"Even a failed Wish should result in some form of response. Natural law is bound to offer some sort of explanation. If there was none... Captain Aige, whom were you trying to revive?"

"My creator," she said. "My father. He died before I was born. I've spent all these years searching for a way to bring him back."

"Your creator? Forgive me, what race were you before becoming undead? Was your ‘creator' the one who transformed you?"

Aige shook her head. "No. My father was not a necromancer, nor a lich. He was merely a shipwright." She looked down at the deck beneath Ambrose's feet. "And I am the ship he built. My true body... is this very ghost ship, the Aige."