This Lich is a Better Landlord Chapter 108

There was once a powerful force placed before Ambrose, but he did not cherish it. Like a scumbag, he took the benefits and ran.

Loviatar's whip lashed Ambrose back into the state of Legendary Ascension.

His soul merged with the world, searching the vast ocean of laws for the pearl that belonged to him.

This time, however, the blood-tinged pearl surfaced automatically and forced itself into Ambrose's hand, leaving him no choice at all.

Now, the destiny he had spurned was making a forceful comeback. It was like a jilted lover returning victoriously with a court order stating "Divorce not permitted as feelings have not yet broken down," bringing along a muscular brother-in-law to settle the score with Ambrose, the scumbag.

Vast power converged on Ambrose's soul. Things that had blurred in his memory were dug up like old grievances during a couple's quarrel. Every past event he wanted to forget was so bloody and vivid, making Ambrose feel a long-lost pain.

The feeling of breaking up only to be forced back together was just this cruel.

A new Legendary Boon began to form, and Ambrose's soul returned to his body.

It was still the secret treasury, only the bloody light on the statue had dimmed significantly. The Flayed Duke and his daughter were kneeling before the statue, whipping themselves frantically. They likely noticed the statue's light fading and feared they had done something wrong to anger the deity.

They didn't know Loviatar had used the faith power accumulated over countless years to play a nasty joke on Ambrose.

Ambrose stared expressionlessly at the statue. Loviatar's phantom still lingered upon it, looking at Ambrose with amusement.

After receiving the new Legendary Boon, Ambrose finally understood Loviatar's plan.

This was an incredibly powerful, incredibly absurd Legendary Boon—[Fate Weaving].

Ambrose could use this ability to manufacture a future for any target. But due to the influence of Loviatar's divine power, the woven future would contain only boundless suffering, realizing both physical torture and mental collapse.

Therefore, this Legendary Boon should actually be called—[Pain · Fate Weaving].

As long as Ambrose used this ability, he was spreading pain in the world, effectively working for Loviatar.

It seemed acceptable since he would only use it on enemies, but Ambrose wished he could sell this Legendary Boon for a single gold coin.

The power of the School of Divination had once supported Ambrose through years of adventure, helping him survive crisis after crisis. But the more he used this power, the tighter the threads of fate entangled him.

Borrowing the power of fate eventually turns one into a slave of fate.

If you believe in fate, you lose the power to change it.

When you know what your next meal is, the flavor is halved. When you know the game's ending, the fun is halved.

Foreknowing destiny constantly erodes the will, weakening the ability to think independently, turning life into a spoiled detective novel—dull and tasteless.

Living like that was torture for Ambrose.

If it were only for a century or two, enjoying the feeling of spoilers wasn't bad; playing the prophet occasionally was a fresh experience.

But when time stretched infinitely, by the third century of his life, Ambrose found himself becoming numb.

When everything is a fixed number, the harder one tries, the more one looks like a clown.

Once, Ambrose foresaw a friend dying an unnatural death. He did nothing, watching with his own eyes as the person died.

Before dying, the friend asked Ambrose a question: If he hadn't known this future in advance, would he have tried his best to save him?

Ambrose didn't answer at the time. He didn't even know why he had become so numb that he did nothing.

Perhaps it was because he had experienced many attempts before, where the results were always as the prophecy foretold. The net of fate tightened, trapping Ambrose's soul in a thick cocoon.

It was this friend's death that made Ambrose see his own numbness clearly.

Living like this seemed no different from being dead. Perhaps this was why the School of Divination gradually disappeared; every mage who walked this path eventually turned into a feelingless stone.

So, Ambrose began to detest the power of the School of Divination from the bottom of his heart. He knew he couldn't break free from the web of fate, but he could choose not to look. Closing his eyes, ignoring the future, and striving only to live in the present.

This actually added some color to Ambrose's life. Years later, he broke through to become a Legend and finally parted ways with fate.

Although life was miserable without the power to foresee the future, this felt like truly living. So what if he was poor? If he really couldn't survive, he could always reincarnate as a Lich.

Abandoning some worldly desires was better than abandoning one's entire life.

So during his last re-ascension, Ambrose had decisively rejected the resurgence of the power of prophecy, preparing to walk down the path of wealth until the bitter end.

Unexpectedly, all of this was ruined by Loviatar.

Ambrose now wished he could strip her naked and stuff her into a goblin camp.

At the moment of his third ascension, Ambrose saw those future scenes again. Frame by frame, his infinitely extending future collapsed into a few simple choices.

Ambrose stared at Loviatar's phantom on the statue and swore upon his soul.

"Loviatar, I will shatter your godhood and cast you down to the mortal realm!"

As if reading Ambrose's thoughts, Loviatar's phantom first showed surprise, then let out a manic laugh. "Declaring war on a god? Has your intelligence been scattered by the legendary power? What a foolish declaration. What right do you have to say such things?"

"Loviatar, right now you are a god, and I am a mortal. But I might be the only mortal in the world with three Legendary Boons. Is becoming a god really that hard?" Ambrose's tone was filled with certainty—confidence derived from the School of Divination.

Loviatar said dismissively, "There are plenty of gods. So what if you become one? Can you weave a destiny where I become mortal?"

No crazy god had weak divine power. Regardless of the number of believers, they always had some formidable skills, because the truly weak crazies had been killed long ago.

Even if Ambrose ascended to godhood, Loviatar didn't think it would be a problem. There were plenty of gods who wanted to kill her; one more or one less didn't matter.

Ambrose smiled and said, "Loviatar, you know nothing of the power of fate. I am a Lich, you are a god; our time is infinite. The threads of fate extend infinitely and will eventually wrap around you. I have already seen that future.

"The fear brought by this inevitability is torture even for a god. As time passes, your soul will eventually be crushed by the pressure of prophecy. I will slowly await that day."

Loviatar's phantom put away her previous arrogance and showed an angry expression. She began to worry that Ambrose was telling the truth.

"First, you have to survive until then. You should be very clear that after you agreed to the God of Alchemy's deal, your name was carved on the hatred monuments of many gods.

"If you had agreed to become my Chosen, I could have given you a chance to live. Now, you gave it up yourself. My prank on you is but a trivial revenge. The punishment of other gods will soon descend again. Enjoy it slowly. I also look forward to the look on your face when you see your death date and wait for death in painful despair."

But in the end, Loviatar didn't inflict any punishment on Ambrose. Perhaps the faith power on the statue wasn't enough to support divine retribution, or perhaps she still dared not violate the rules set by Ao.

In any case, the god's phantom quickly vanished, and this dialogue, limited to their souls, remained unknown to others.

After Loviatar left, although Ambrose looked expressionless, his soul was boiling. He never expected to be ambushed by this crazy goddess.

When he said he saw the future of Loviatar's shattered godhood, it was just a pure threat. The future he saw had nothing to do with Loviatar.

But it didn't matter; scare her first.

Loviatar was obviously frightened into a defensive outburst by Ambrose, hence the empty threat.

What revenge could a god take? Another prank to make Ambrose ascend to Legend again? That would be nice. A few more times and he might ascend on the spot, achieving godhood through sheer force.

As for revenge, Ambrose sneered. Let's see who gets revenge on whom first.

So all the crazy evil gods want to start trouble? Then he would start with Loviatar and see whose revenge was more potent.

With a turn of his mind, Ambrose already had a plan.

He waved a finger, enveloping the Flayed Duke and his daughter, who had whipped themselves bloody, in the glow of a healing spell. Their wounds healed rapidly, and the sensation of pain naturally vanished.

But this did not earn their gratitude. The Flayed Duke exclaimed excitedly, "Lord God's Favored, using healing spells is prohibited!"

Loviatar was the Goddess of Pain. Healing wounds came after enduring the pain. They had just started self-harming; how could they be healed? Each session required losing half a life before the goddess was satisfied and sent down a healing blessing to restore their injuries.

Previously, the Flayed Duke had many children who couldn't withstand the cruel ritual and didn't receive the goddess's healing blessing, eventually dying from their severe injuries.

Ambrose using a healing spell in advance was a serious blasphemy against the deity.

Facing the Flayed Duke's questioning, Ambrose said, "Are you the God's Favored, or am I? Do you understand the Goddess of Pain, or do I?"

This question shut the Flayed Duke's mouth immediately. The oracle was real. When Ambrose appeared in front of the statue earlier, the Goddess of Pain reacted instantly. The Flayed Duke clearly saw the bloody light from the statue envelop Ambrose. The Flayed Duke was all too familiar with this scene; it was the effect of the goddess's blessing, only he had never seen such an intense bloody light.

The faith power accumulated in the statue over many years was almost completely consumed, showing how much the goddess favored this Lich.

Therefore, when Ambrose said these words, the Flayed Duke dared not refute.

Seeing that he had bluffed the Flayed Duke and Loviatar hadn't appeared to contradict him, Ambrose knew he had guessed correctly: the Goddess of Pain had indeed used up the power needed for manifestation.

Ambrose then said to the Flayed Duke, "Enough. The reason I interrupted your ritual is that the goddess is no longer paying attention here. Your sacrifice is a waste; it cannot provide faith power to the goddess."

The Flayed Duke and Bella Trix suddenly understood. So that was the reason.

"Starting today, I am that goddess's spokesman. Praying to me is equivalent to praying to her."

Ambrose summoned the Golden Throne, floating in mid-air, and said to the crazy father and daughter, "Now, kneel before me and pray devoutly, just as you would before the goddess."