A shipwright, on the verge of death, willing a ghost ship into existence with his own soul—it was a story as great and tragic as a mother feeding her child with her own flesh and blood in the face of disaster.

Ambrose's answer might be cruel, but it would at least provide Aige with a resolution to her quest.

The question was whether she could accept it.

If a demigod-level undead were to lose control, very few people here today would survive.

Aige stared at Ambrose and murmured, "According to you, if my father is to return... I must die."

Ambrose shook his head. "No. Even if you were willing to sacrifice yourself, it still wouldn't bring him back. What has already happened cannot be undone. He used his soul to nourish your growth. That is an established fact. There is no reversing it."

"Is there truly no hope at all?" Aige pressed. Her voice trembled slightly.

Ambrose felt a pang of sympathy. She had paid too high a price to hear such a verdict.

"It's not absolutely impossible," he said carefully. "If Aion were willing to help you, his power could fulfill any wish. But a Wish spell alone would be far from enough, and Aion has never granted blessings to mortals. Whether you worship him or curse him, he does not look upon the mortal world. The only beings who can draw Aion's attention... are true deities.

"Captain Aige, you are only one step away from condensing divinity. What you lack is opportunity. And such an opportunity... may be coming soon."

Light returned to Aige's eyes. "You're right," she said, excitement rising in her voice. "I have neglected that possibility. The chances are slim, but that doesn't matter. I have an infinite supply of time."

Ambrose exhaled silently in relief. Crisis averted.

"So... about the alliance with the Ragetide Kingdom?"

Aige brushed off the matter. "Do as you like. I don't care. I've heard you enjoy playing both sides and profiting as a middleman. You made quite a fortune off the elves and dwarves before, didn't you? You may negotiate on my behalf as you like. I don't need what they have to offer."

Ambrose grinned. "Well, that's rather generous of you."

"I'm not done," Aige continued. "I don't need gold. I need to become a god. When the opportunity comes, I expect your assistance as my favor for helping you out with this matter."

Ambrose's smile faded. That was no small demand.

To become a god, one either needed Aion's direct recognition... or a vacancy. But gods were immortal. Vacancies only appeared when a weaker deity fell in divine war.

The problem was, Ambrose wanted to become a god as well.

If he truly had such an opportunity, was he to cede it to Aige instead?

He began cautiously. "Captain Aige, you understand that the value of divinity far exceeds that of this artifact. I'm not trying to take advantage of you, but let's be reasonable. Even if a deity falls, compatibility with that deity's domain matters as well. Our paths differ. If that opportunity arises, whoever is better suited should ascend. Agreed?"

Aige considered Ambrose's argument. Divinity wasn't something that could be claimed arbitrarily.

Authorities and domains had to align. She was inclined toward the sea: navigation, plunder, and maritime dominion. Ambrose, as a lich, leaned toward magical authority. Their domains were clearly distinct.

"Fine," she said at last.

Ambrose felt genuine satisfaction at Aige's concession.

After all, he was not merely a lich, nor even merely a magician. There were many divine authorities that might suit him.

"I'm leaving," Aige said. "The Ragetide Kingdom is your concern now."

With business concluded, she had no desire to linger. The immense ghost ship sank into the water. Though the lake was less than twenty meters deep, the vessel merged seamlessly with it and vanished.

Meanwhile, Ambrose cast Fly and returned swiftly to shore.

The King of Ragetide approached him excitedly. "Are matters settled?"

Ambrose nodded. "Yes. The Silent Sea Pirate Company agrees that, for an annual payment of ten million gold coins, they will cease all raids on Ragetide vessels, fishing or merchant ships alike. Your ships may pass freely through their waters."

The king frowned deeply. "Ten million? That's... far too expensive."

Ragetide was the poorest of the Nine Kingdoms. Lyon nobles could toss around tens of millions on a whim, but to Ragetide, ten million per year would be a painful cost.

"I know it's costly," Ambrose said. "That's why I worked hard on the negotiations. Half must be paid in gold, but the remainder can be supplied as goods."

"That's the same thing!" the king protested. "Five million gold in goods is still five million gold!"

Ambrose lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Your Majesty, the undead do not come ashore. They aren't aware of market prices. We can declare goods worth two million gold as being worth five million gold instead. They won't know. To avoid suspicion, we'll have to pay entirely in gold for the first year. After that, we'll provide goods as partial payment."

The king blinked in surprise. He hadn't considered that.

After a moment's thought, he muttered, "Seven million... That might be acceptable."

Indeed, it was precisely the Ragetide Kingdom's upper threshold. Ambrose had studied the kingdom's military expenditures and centuries of anti-piracy losses through Monge Greywater's memories. Seven million gold was the absolute maximum they could readily offer.

Any higher, and negotiations would drag on. Ambrose did not have the time for that.

With the artifact secured, returning to the Emerald Dreamwood was top priority.

Back at the palace, the king and his ministers spent long hours discussing the proposal. In the end, they confirmed the arrangement would actually save them gold annually.

Though it technically violated the Lord of Storms' doctrine, the treasury would lose fewer ships and fewer lives. For the sake of the kingdom, they were willing to accept.

Of course, another factor eased the decision: they had witnessed Aige's power firsthand.

After seeing what she could do, the king understood just how slim their chances in warfare were. And with Ariel firmly supporting Ambrose, compromise was inevitable.

Ambrose produced a contract, claiming it was prepared by the pirates, and had the king sign it.

Thus, a millennium-long shadow over the Ragetide Kingdom vanished. The king felt oddly disoriented, as though he had stepped into a new era.

Ambrose, however, had no time for such sentiments. "Your Majesty," he said promptly, "time is of the essence. I will personally deliver the gold to the pirates."

It was time to leave. This excursion had already taken nearly eight days. More matters awaited him.

Had Naomi mastered her draconic transformation yet? How exactly did the hourglass artifact function? How could he help Naomi wield the power of time?

Those would surely be time-consuming problems.

But the king was reluctant to let Ambrose go.

"Does a hero like you need to deliver the gold personally? I can send a courier. Monge, you already shoulder too many burdens. Don't waste your time on trivialities."

The king had been extremely satisfied with "Monge's" performance throughout this crisis. In fact, he was now seriously considering arranging his marriage to Ariel as soon as possible. Monge Greywater was already in his forties, and nearing the end of his prime childbearing years.

Ambrose sensed danger immediately. If he didn't leave now, complications would arise. "Your Majesty," he said quickly, "this is our first instance of cooperation with the pirates in a thousand years. I would feel more secure overseeing it personally. Moreover, I intend to visit the Emerald Dreamwood."

"The Emerald Dreamwood?" the king asked suspiciously. "Why? The druids have never been friendly to us."

"Your Majesty, surely you've noticed how rapidly the balance among the Nine Kingdoms is shifting. Alkhemia has fallen. Lyon now occupies half the dwarven desert. The dwarves have retreated. The elves have sealed themselves away. The Emerald Dreamwood has been preparing for war for years. A great conflict is coming. Even across the sea, we will not remain untouched.

"Before it begins, we must secure allies. I've heard that Queen Catherine of the elves is visiting the Emerald Dreamwood. Elves and druids have always been close. They must be discussing a potential alliance. This is the perfect opportunity for us. If I represent Ragetide there, we might secure both alliances at once."

He spoke with complete conviction.

The king fell into contemplation once more. "But the druids dislike us," the king said. "Why would they agree?"

"That was before. Now that Lyon has swallowed half the desert, the next target is clearly the Emerald Dreamwood. Compared to national survival, minor friction is meaningless. We have no intention of seizing their lands. Lyon is their true enemy.

"And remember, Ragetide lies to their rear. If war erupts and we harass them from behind, their position would become untenable. Besides, Your Majesty, we just lost several million gold to the undead. Shouldn't we earn some of it back from the druids?"