"What problem?" Li Wei asked, narrowing his eyes.
The Abyssal Fish shuddered in fright, immediately regretting that it had spoken out of turn.
"I don't know the exact problem. I only heard the boss of Skullport—uh, that fish lord—mention it in passing."
Seeing the way everyone's gazes upon him were increasingly starting to resemble the look one gave ingredients, Sarakra's scales nearly standing on end, frantically set his brain spinning.
"But just think about it! Aklam was a famous pirate chief active on the Sword Coast since before the last century, yet he isn't a lich. In this day and age, there are only a few ways for you humans to extend your lives besides Wish."
They scarcely needed to hear this salted fish continue babbling before everyone arrived at the same realization.
Aklam—the man who had, to some extent, founded the Arcane Brotherhood with his own hands, Luskan's dictator in the truest sense—was also nearing the end of his life?
And so he had begun seeking a way to reverse that outcome through the gods?
That barely made sense of it.
Perhaps aside from the gods in the heavens, no one in this world understood the drawbacks of those life-extension spells better than Li Wei, who possessed Netheril's arcane legacy.
The era of Netheril could be called the absolute pinnacle of all manner of Life-Extension Spell development.
Before then, neither dragons nor elves—the long-lived races—had much cause for concern in that regard.
Dragons had it somewhat better. So long as they successfully endured old age, then the sky was high and the sea vast, free for dragons to soar. The older they grew, the more they loved to sleep. They truly enjoyed their leisurely dragon lives.
Elves, especially High Elves—long-lived beings whose natures were rather chaotic to begin with