Lich for Hire

Chapter 106: The Great Godblessed One

The dark knight unleashed a Sacred Slash steeped in malevolent power, its might scarcely inferior to its radiant, holy counterpart.

Though the living mercury possessed formidable magical resistance, each Sacred Slash it had sustained in the past had left it badly wounded.

And precisely because it was aware of the danger of such attacks, it knew not to take it head-on.

The blurred humanoid form writhed and reshaped itself in an instant, becoming a diamond-shaped shield off which the crimson blade was deflected.

The shield was forged of mithril, a property it had inherited earlier when devouring a paladin's equipment.

Adamantium enhanced sharpness; mithril, by contrast, was all but indestructible and was perfectly suited for shields and armor.

The living mercury could reproduce both properties. Using a mithril shield to block a Sacred Slash was the optimal solution it had devised.

Much of the crimson blade's force was dispersed by the shield, but a small portion of its energy still pierced through and seeped into the slime's body.

A violent spasm followed. The mercury homunculus let out a shrill screech, like countless steel nails scraping against glass.

Levitra's divine power subjected it to the most terrifying pain it had ever known since its creation. The poor creature could barely maintain its form; its body convulsed and warped uncontrollably.

The knight, however, was momentarily disrupted by that piercing scream and failed to follow up with another attack.

In that brief window of opportunity, the second living mercury slime charged in. Its arms suddenly transformed like an octopus's, silvery tentacles lashing out and slamming hard against the warhorse's legs.

A well-fed mercury homunculus was immensely strong. One sweep of those tentacles snapped the horse's front leg clean in two. The beast let out a pitiful cry and staggered on the verge of collapse.

But then, the crimson aura around the knight spread to envelop the warhorse as well.

The broken leg straightened again—but not because it had healed. Rather, the pain itself had been transmuted into strength.

Bone shards jutted through flesh, yet the horse stood firm. It entered a berserk state, twisting its body and kicking out with its hind legs.

The blow stamped two clear hoofprints into the living mercury.

But that impact gave the slime an opportunity as well. Amid shrill cries of agony, it endured the devastating pain and wrapped itself entirely around the warhorse. Had the knight not sensed danger and vaulted off her saddle in time, she would have been engulfed as well.

The massive lump of mercury writhed ceaselessly. The horse struggled to break free, but in the end, it collapsed as mercury blades pierced its flesh. The living mercury released its carcass after casually devouring the horse's barding and horseshoes.

The remaining carcass bore dozens of penetration wounds. Its neck was held together by little more than a strip of skin. No pain resistance could save it now.

Ambrose felt an urge to applaud. Seeing the agony its companion suffered after touching the crimson light, the second homunculus had steeled itself in advance, allowing it to shoulder through the pain as it attacked.

By then, the first mercury homunculus had also recovered. The two silvery masses began shifting through various forms as they launched a pincer assault on the knight.

The thorned knight was indeed formidable. She was stronger than even Allen had been, but under the combined pressure of the two living mercury slimes, she found herself scrambling awkwardly, hard-pressed on all sides.

She had already realized how corrosive the living mercury was to metal, so she dared not let them get close. One after another, she unleashed vicious spells: auras of fear, plagues, and the like.

Yet the living mercury possessed impeccable magical resistance. Every spell was resisted outright.

Left with no other options, she relied solely on her barbed whip to defend herself. It was a terrifying weapon, steeped in unholy energy. Even the slightest contact would plunge its target into unbearable agony.

Even as the slimes strained to endure, every strike sent spasms ripping through their bodies, briefly paralyzing them.

Divine power wasn't something mere magic resistance could mitigate.

Still, the barbed whip served more as a deterrent than a killing tool. It dealt little damage. At this point, the battle had become a war of attrition: whoever collapsed first would lose. The slimes could always retreat if they reached their limit, but if the knight faltered, she would be stripped of her armor and riddled with dozens of bloody holes.

By now, the knight was clearly at a disadvantage. She had no choice but to shout for the scattered bloodslaves to regroup for a suicidal charge to sap the mercury slimes' strength.

The spellbound slaves could not tell victory from defeat. At her command, they charged fearlessly at the mercury slimes, using their very bodies to impede the creatures.

Seizing the opportunity, the knight lashed out again and again with her barbed whip, unconcerned with whether she struck friend or foe. She had to take down the mercury slimes at any cost.

With that, the scales tipped once more in her favor.

Ambrose judged that the mercury slimes would likely exhaust their strength and be forced to break out of the encirclement. The knight would live to see another day.

He'd seen enough of how the slimes had grown. Their combat power had clearly improved. If they faced Allen again, they would no longer need Ambrose's help. They could fight the holy knight to a standstill on their own.

That was, of course, assuming that Allen was not wearing high-grade equipment from Lyon. Even Ambrose would have found those top-tier enchanted sets troublesome to handle.

All in all, he was quite satisfied with the slimes' growth. They had lived up to the effort he had invested in them and still had ample room to grow. He'd consider equipping them with suitable magical gear to further enhance their combat capabilities.

As for the other elemental undead, though their combat strength remained mediocre, their intelligence had improved significantly. That suited Ambrose just fine. He had created them primarily to harvest faith: to pray and generate divine income. Intelligence was all that mattered.

"Time to wrap this up."

Ambrose dispelled his invisibility and waved his hand as he summoned several teleportation circles. A cluster of aberrant skeletons and the black-cloaked Husky appeared at his side.

Ambrose patted Husky on the shoulder. "Your turn. Let's see how the new gear performs."

Husky nodded and directed the aberrant skeletons into the fray. Under his command, the squat, mantis-like skeletons began killing with chilling efficiency.

Knowing the bloodslaves felt no pain, the skeletons targeted their joints instead: severing tendons first, then climbing up their bodies to tear out their throats and pierce their hearts. Some even started with the eyes, forcing the slaves into blind, indiscriminate attacks.

Naturally, the aberrant skeletons suffered losses as well. In their berserk state, the slaves were able to tear many of them apart.

It was a battle of attrition, with death on both sides—but Husky was a lich.

He had spent considerable effort modifying and reinforcing Husky's body. By now, Husky was a fully qualified assistant. With a casual lift of his hand, the fallen corpses climbed back to their feet and lunged at their former comrades.

Drawing out a battle against the undead was the worst thing you could do.

After summoning zombies as reinforcement, Husky flipped back his black cloak to reveal a stark white skeleton and an oddly shaped weapon: a magitech rifle.

The rifle was an early prototype left over from past research, which he had found among Ambrose's collection. Having spent a lifetime with bows, this was Husky's first time handling a firearm—and he fell in love with it instantly.

There ws no need to draw his bow and maintain tension on the bowstring, no need to worry about his arrows' wobble or spin. All he had to do was raise the gun, aim, and pull the trigger.

He had always known magitech cannons were powerful. He hadn' expected their downsized counterparts to be this fun, too.

Given how enamored Husky was, Ambrose had taken some time to modify the rifle: reinforcing the barrel, strengthening the charging arrays, and allowing Husky to replenish the wind-pressure enchantment in the barrel with his own magic.

The modifications had cost Ambrose a fair amount of gold. The rifle wasn't a particularly cost-effective weapon, yet it seemed to stimulate Husky's very soul, allowing him to edge closer to the realm of true high-tier undead.

Husky raised his magitech rifle and took aim at the thorned knight.

A surge of compressed air hurled the bullet forward, crossing more than fifty meters in an instant to strike her squarely in the head.

The bone bullet shattered on impact with the heavy helmet, exploding into fragments and only knocking her head slightly to the side.

The knight had been wary of Husky from the start: his appearance alone marked him as no ordinary undead. The rifle's feeble power, however, instantly put her at ease. Just a flashy toy, it seemed.

Unfortunately, her sense of relief was short-lived.

The shattered bone dust drifted down, rapidly blooming into vast patches of bone coral in midair.

That coral formed a massive bone cage, trapping the knight inside.

Bone looked fragile and easy to shatter with just a bit of force, but before she could break free, another bone bullet flew in to thicken the cage.

Husky's marksmanship was uncanny, likely a remnant of his elven bloodline. Even after becoming an undead, he had retained that talent. Back when he used a bow, he could precisely shoot weapons from the Twilight Wardens' hands. With the greater accuracy of a magitech rifle, he was nothing short of a sharpshooter.

Each bone bullet carried limited power, yet they proved to be immensely troublesome to deal with. The bone cage around the knight grew thicker and denser.

By the time he emptied a thirty-round magazine, the knight was completely sealed within the cage. The cramped space left her unable even to swing her arms, as if she had been struck by a paralysis spell.

Husky then began to fire headshots at the remaining bloodslaves.

Without any armor to protect them, they were easy prey for the rifle. Each hit buried deep in their flesh, where the bone-proliferation virus could tear them apart from within.

Husky was having the time of his life—until Ambrose suddenly pressed down on the rifle.

"A test or two is acceptable," Ambrose snapped. "But why are you using bone-proliferation rounds on fodder? Do you think those are free?"

Spending money freely was satisfying, but Ambrose was far from financially independent. He still had to budget carefully.

With Husky's extravagance curtailed, the battle reached its natural conclusion. Nearly all the bloodslaves lay dead. The two mercury slimes hovered resentfully around the bone cage, clearly itching to bore in and finish the knight themselves.

Ambrose waved them back.

A dark knight favored by a god was immensely valuable. Even without demanding ransom from House Skinner, selling her to the Lyon Empire would fetch a high price. Such evil entities were premium "offerings" they could never refuse.

Ambrose dismantled the bone cage and dragged the knight out, preparing to extract information on the location of the Skinner Duke's treasury, and how much gold it held.

But the knight worshiped the Mistress of Pain. Ordinary torture would likely feel like indulgence to her, and mental magic might not even work on someone blessed by a god.

As Ambrose was pondering how to interrogate her, the knight surprised him. She removed her helmet, revealing a grotesque face crisscrossed with scars.

Then she knelt before Ambrose, raising her barbed whip with utmost reverence. "All else falters before the power of pain. O great godblessed one," she began solemnly. "I did not know these were your undead servants. My ignorance led me to this offense. Please, punish me."

Ambrose: "..."

Godblessed one?

Had the Goddess of Wealth finally been moved by his efforts to accrue gold?