Lich for Hire

Chapter 228: A Message for the Elves

The Lyon army retreated, and not in good order.

They had managed to maintain their formation even through Ambrose's Meteor Shower. Their morale hadn't taken much of a hit. But once the Silvermoon Knight coughed blood and collapsed, panic spread through the ranks. Their withdrawal quickly turned into something closer to a rout.

If Ambrose had been in command, he would have called for immediate pursuit. This was a golden opportunity to teach Lyon a painful lesson.

But Hoffmann merely let out a long breath of relief. He had no intention of chasing after them.

In fact, throughout the entire battle, Hoffmann had never even appeared on the front lines. Only after Lyon's forces withdrew did he step in to direct the cleanup.

Compensation for the fallen was distributed casually, almost perfunctorily.

Then Hoffmann got busy collecting what Lyon had left behind. This might have been the first true defeat Lyon had suffered since the war began. They left behind only a small number of corpses, but a large quantity of damaged equipment.

To others, it looked like useless junk, but to Hoffmann, it represented merit. Real, tangible merit.

This wasn't trash. This was his ticket to a bright future. He had already begun imagining the future. By leveraging this victory, he could climb higher and higher… perhaps to the point where he could leave the battlefield entirely.

That thought was practically written across his face. When Ambrose noticed, he immediately whispered, "Lord Hoffmann… you wouldn't want anyone to know that this victory was actually achieved by a passing dragon rider like me, would you?"The two of them discussed matters in a sealed chamber for quite some time. Crates of gold were carried in, one after another.

Several hours later, Ambrose left in high spirits, while Hoffmann looked like his heart had been carved out.

To ensure Ambrose wouldn't compete for credit, Hoffmann had handed over his entire fortune, and all the gold that remained in Sweetdew City.

As the long night came to an end, Ambrose sensed a shift. As Lyon retreated, his power over fate returned. The trial set by the Goddess of Fate had been completed. He had successfully guided events back onto their original course.

Cheating fate to save Harvey came with a price: he had to ensure a key historical event still played out the way it had in the future.

Like the Battle of Sweetdew City, for example. Without Ambrose's intervention, the dwarves would never have held the city. Once it fell, Lyon would be able to bypass the line of sandstorms that served as a natural barrier to protect the dwarves. Half the Dwarven Kingdom would have been theirs in short order.

Ambrose had wondered whether the Silvermoon Knight would still collapse as history dictated, even in the event of his failure. Would fate correct itself no matter what?

Of course, the Goddess of Fate would never answer such questions. So Ambrose stopped worrying about what was coincidence and what was inevitability. This exhausting journey through time was finally coming to an end.

Before leaving Sweetdew City, he went to check on Harvey.

Harvey was still under the orcs' control, but instead of trying to escape, he had gathered stacks of parchment and notebooks. He was writing furiously with dark circles under his eyes.

Ambrose recalled what Harvey had once said: If he knew he would die the next day, he wouldn't try to struggle. He would simply record his life down so as to leave a mark of his existence behind. It seemed he had accepted his fate.

"Heh… if this kid knew he'd be working for me for the rest of his life, I wonder how he'd feel."

Ambrose didn't bother rescuing him. After all, by the time he met Harvey again in the future, everything would already be resolved. There was no need to interfere now.

It was time to go.

Ambrose flew deep into the desert and summoned Naomi in a remote, uninhabited area.

Although her wing had been rent while in the form of a time dragon, druidic shapeshifting was almost miraculous in nature. Even if her dragon body were completely destroyed, once the transformation ended, she would return unharmed, at the cost of some natural energy.

Naomi had long since reverted to human form and was ready to transform again.

Catherine, however, seemed reluctant. She hadn't had any real chance to enjoy traveling to the past. She had either been stuffed into Ambrose's extradimensional space, or, worse, used as a shield. She had no fond memories whatsoever to speak of.

"Once we go back, you should return to the Court of the Silver Moon," Ambrose said.

Catherine frowned. "What, you're kicking me out now? Don't tell me you're trying to avoid paying me that fifty thousand gold?"

"I'm not that kind of person!" Ambrose protested.

Catherine didn't argue. She simply stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. She had learned how to handle Ambrose: don't start an argument with him and give him an opportunity to wriggle out of his obligations.

Ambrose coughed awkwardly. He had briefly considered tricking her into forgetting about the money, but that wasn't the point.

"You've been adventuring with me for a while now. It's time you slowed down and reflected on what you've learned," he said. "Many adventurers spend their entire lives stuck at the bottom not because they're stupid, but because they never reflect on their actions. They keep falling into the same traps over and over again."

For once, his words were sincere.

Catherine had improved tremendously since their first encounter. Once naïve and sheltered, she was now at least a competent adventurer. But if she kept following him, she would remain in a constant state of "learning," without ever consolidating what she had learned.

But rather than relax, Catherine grew even more suspicious. "This doesn't sound like your style. Would you really do something without benefiting from it?"

"You misunderstand me far too deeply." Ambrose sighed. Then he added, "After you return to the Court of the Silver Moon, pass along a message to the elven king. Tell him that the spirit of Arthur Lyon is in my possession."

Catherine immediately exclaimed, "Don't even think about making the elves buy him! It's not happening!"

How much was Arthur Lyon's spirit worth? It was impossible to estimate.

But she knew one thing: Ambrose would absolutely name a price so absurd it could bankrupt the entire Court.

Ambrose chuckled. "You're not even the queen anymore. Whether the elves buy it isn't up to you."

Catherine smiled even more brightly. "If I return and tell the elves not to buy it, do you think anyone would oppose me?"

Back when she remained in the Court, Catherine had never fully understood her own charm. She had always been told not to expose herself in public, that her beauty could cause calamity, but Catherine had never known the truth of such advice.

Now, after traveling with Ambrose, she knew exactly how powerful her charm was. If she chose to take advantage of it, no elf would openly defy her.

Ambrose blinked, momentarily stunned. "…You've really gotten smarter. Maybe I should've charged more tuition."

"But don't worry," he continued. "I'm not planning to scam the elves. You probably can't afford it anyway. If I'm selling Arthur Lyon's spirit to anyone, it'll be to Lyon."

Catherine frowned. "Then why involve the elves at all?"

"Because," Ambrose said, grinning, "if I claim I have Arthur Lyon's spirit, Lyon will just accuse me of desecrating their founding emperor and try to kill me. But if the former elven king, his old comrade, confirms it…" He spread his hands. "That would be a different story."

This was a classic scam tactic. People might not be receptive to direct advertising. But add a suitably impressed "onlooker," and things were suddenly very different.

In this case, Ambrose didn't even need to lie. The truth itself was enough.

As for whether Lyon might try to seize the heroic spirit of Arthur Lyon by force, Ambrose wasn't worried. With the Silvermoon Knight gone, there was no way Lyon could eliminate him quietly.

As a diviner, Ambrose was confident he could avoid any pursuit.

And if they tried to seize the heroic spirit by force, he'd simply hand the hourglass over to the dragons instead. They would pay just as well.

"No way I'm letting Arthur Lyon's name go for anything less than a few hundred million gold."

Catherine hesitated, then said, "I'll pass along your message. But I can't guarantee anything."

In the past, she wouldn't have agreed. As Lyon's ally, the elves should have opposed such schemes.

But after witnessing Lyon's aggression firsthand, her perspective had changed.

Lyon was becoming more extreme, more bellicose. Once, its paladins had fought only undead and demons. Now, they were even turning on dwarves and orcs. At this rate, elves might one day be treated the same.

Ambrose was simply asking the elves to confirm the veracity of his claim, and Catherine could personally vouch for it. His request wasn't unreasonable.

"Good. Then let's go," Ambrose said. "Catherine, when you return to the Court, please deliver one more message for me."

"To the Court?"

"To the elven gods." His tone turned serious. "I know a divine war is coming. But I don't know what form it will take." He looked at her steadily. "I want the elven gods to give me a hint. In return, I promise I will not stand against the elves in that war."