Lich for Hire

Chapter 130: The Future of a Corporate Drone

After politely seeing Black Rose off, Ambrose couldn't help humming a little tune from his homeland.

He had the habit of allowing himself a small moment of smug satisfaction whenever he closed a big deal, but never too much. If he got carried away, the money would vanish just as quickly. That was wisdom distilled from several centuries of life.

What he hadn't expected was for Catherine to suddenly appear behind him and comment, "That's an interesting melody. I've never heard a song with a rhythm like that."

Ambrose turned around and looked at the elven queen, whose eyes were still faintly red. The atmosphere instantly seemed to turn awkward.

Before this, Catherine had been nothing more than a sheep primed for slaughter, someone he could smile at while sharpening his knife. But the contract had been signed, and in the near future, she'd be working for him. Worse, he'd be responsible for her food and lodging. That made everything feel very different.

He disliked subordinates who were both powerful and of noble status. There were far too many uncontrollable variables. As a scholar, he hated variables more than anything.

"Your Majesty," Ambrose said, "you really didn't have to use yourself as a bargaining chip."

Catherine replied calmly, "It can't be helped. After all, I'm just a naïve, childish little girl."

Ambrose stiffened. Had she heard that? His conversation with Black Rose had been quiet, and they'd been far from her.

Catherine fixed her gaze on him. "You forget that I'm a legend too. I advanced as a legendary ranger, and I can hear anything within this castle if I so choose."

Ambrose shamelessly said, "My apologies. Talking about people behind their backs isn't very polite, but liches are just like that."

Catherine paused. The lich seemed far too practiced at making excuses. He'd clearly hoodwinked many with that silver tongue of his.

"So," Catherine asked, "when you controlled the Wheel of Fate and claimed you weren't prying into the secrets of the elves, was that a lie too?"

Ambrose answered without hesitation, "No. That was the truth. I never used your Wheel of Fate to pry into elven secrets. I said so at the time: that was my gesture of sincerity toward the elves. Business deals run on integrity. Anyone who's ever worked with me knows I'm scrupulously honest. Even the paladins of the Lyon Empire would admit that."

"But you still found out about the secret of mana addiction!" Catherine said, her emotions flaring.

Because of that secret, Black Rose had completely dominated the negotiations. Catherine's greatest weakness had been seized, and no matter how she struggled, she'd been forced to compromise.

Ambrose smiled faintly. "Your Majesty, you underestimate me. I'm a legend too, and before becoming a lich, I was a diviner. If I want to learn the elves' secrets, I don't need your Wheel of Fate at all."

"And you call that honesty?" Catherine snapped, her eyes reddening again.

"This is business," Ambrose said smoothly. "Everything I promised you was true. That already makes me a rarity—imagine finding another honest merchant on this continent."

That was precisely why he hadn't laid his cards on the table with Catherine from the start. They weren't close. A direct negotiation could easily have ended in failure.

If he'd revealed outright that he could cure mana addiction, there would've been only two outcomes: either Catherine accepted his outrageous demands, or the elven race immediately launched a full-scale hunt to kill him. There was no third option.

Only by having Black Rose, another queen, talk to Catherine would the elves show restraint. Framing it as a "heart-to-heart" softened tensions and guided the negotiation toward the result Ambrose wanted.

The same trump card, revealed by different people, could lead to completely different outcomes. Some might lose their hands. Others would walk away with a fortune.

That was why Ambrose had involved the Elegiac Society from the very beginning. A lone lich was insignificant compared to elven royalty and would have been entirely passive at the negotiating table.

Catherine seemed to come to a realization. She took a deep breath and said, "You're right. I really am a naïve, childish little girl. Unlike the previous kings, I never traveled the continent in my youth, never experienced the customs of other nations, and never tempered my wisdom or will.

"That is my flaw. And because of it, I made the wrong decision, one that nearly led to irreversible consequences. If not for you, the elven race would have been destroyed. I... should thank you."

Ambrose was left a little dazed by her speech. He couldn't help but reply, "If you want to thank me, you should give me more money. What kind of thanks is working for me?"

Catherine replied seriously, "The Court of the Silver Moon doesn't have much gold in reserve. The wealth of the elves isn't measured in gold. What we've paid you already is our limit. But rest assured, I'm a competent mage. I'll be a qualified laboratory assistant. You'll save the cost of hiring a legendary mage. You're not losing out, right?"

Ambrose frowned. "You're really going to work for me wholeheartedly?"

"Of course," Catherine said with a laugh. "Business runs on integrity. Everything I say is true. Hehe." She even deliberately mimicked his tone.

Tch. Did she really think she could play mind games against him?

Once the gold was secured, he could always ship her off to the Umbral Depths and have Black Rose send her to the Lyon Empire to serve as a femme fatale.

Though he was already planning her "transfer" as an assistant, Ambrose replied, "Let's discuss work details after the formal peace talks."

At the mention of the talks, Catherine looked worried again. "Even though our biggest problem is resolved, these negotiations won't be easy. How was the route of the elven advance leaked? Have you found the cause?"

That made Ambrose frown.

He'd been so busy lately that he'd completely neglected the issue.

The Hellgate had indeed been created by infernal cultists, but blocking the elves so precisely meant someone had access to highly accurate intelligence.

Given his lingering sense of unease, there was clearly someone scheming behind the scenes.

Seeing him lost in thought, Catherine asked, "Aren't you a diviner? Why not just divine it? Wouldn't that make everything clear?"

Ambrose replied instantly, "And what if fate tells me that I'm bound to die?"

The problem wasn't that he would fail to divine something. It was that he couldn't control what he would see.

And once he saw a certain future, it would be immutable.

Ambrose could only console himself with an analogy: before observing the future, it was like Schrödinger's cat, both alive and dead at the same time. The moment he opened the box and looked into it, the outcome would be fixed for good.

A bad outcome was equivalent to placing an irreversible curse on himself.

That was why every act of divination required extreme caution and mental preparation. Otherwise, it could lead to prolonged torment.

Ambrose had experienced that feeling many times. He wouldn't casually use divination, which might hurt himself as much as it would his enemies.

Catherine pressed on, "What about just looking into the past? If you don't look at the future, wouldn't that be fine?"

"There's no such thing as a free lunch," Ambrose said. "Using the power of fate is like throwing a stone into the river of time. You might make a big splash, but you can't control the shape it takes. Observing the past doesn't guarantee you won't glimpse the future. You wouldn't understand even if I explained."

Divination was the most anomalous school of magic. Many of its principles violated the fundamental logic of magic, making it extremely difficult to learn and even harder to master.

The ability to view the past and the future was a lethal one, even more so than his Loom of Fate. Without sufficient incentive, he would never use it.

Catherine said unhappily, "Do we just do nothing and hope that everything goes smoothly, then? The elves could be attacked a second time. If the negotiations fail, our deal could be affected too."

That hit Ambrose hard.

These negotiations would net him a huge sum of gold. Catherine absolutely could not be allowed to come to harm.

After a moment's thought, he reassured her, "Relax. I'll prepare everything and make sure nothing goes wrong with these negotiations. I guarantee your safety, though it might be a little painful. Can you endure that?"

Catherine frowned. "A little painful? What are you planning to do?"

"I'm going to weave you a future," Ambrose said. "A future where you absolutely survive."

"Is that... also part of the power of fate? Aren't you afraid of the side effects you mentioned?" Catherine asked.

"It's different. Observing the future and weaving it are two completely different applications. I don't know how to explain it—you'd need to read all fifteen of my books before we could even discuss it. In short, I can do it. Do you trust me?"

Catherine answered decisively, "Of course. I'm now quite sure that you'd do anything for money. For the sake of this deal, you'll definitely protect me."

She desperately wanted this transaction to succeed, on her part. After all, it concerned the very survival of the elven race.

"Good. In that case, please give me your hand." Ambrose extended his own right hand.

Catherine placed her palm in his. Instantly, she felt a strange force flow from his hand, like a cool breeze passing through her body.

Her face flushed despite herself. What kind of spell was this?

If the man weren't a lich, she might've suspected him of taking advantage of her.

But Ambrose had no such thoughts. He merely said, "How about weaving you a future where you go bald in old age?"

Catherine immediately shrieked, "Don't touch my hair!"

"Tsk. How vain. Fine, I promise not to damage your beauty."

Ambrose thought for a moment. Since Queen Catherine didn't want to endure even that tiny bit of pain, he'd give her a different one.

After all, hadn't she offered to work for him?

Then he'd grant her a future as a corporate drone, working overtime until she collapsed in tears. That counted as pain too, didn't it?