This Lich is a Better Landlord Chapter 34

Ambrose's tone was cold and wicked, making him sound like the quintessential villain from a story. Unfortunately for his performance, no one believed a word of his cruel pronouncements.

Even the paladin was a bit surprised. Why did this lich seem to be genuinely protecting humans?

Another lord standing with the Porcupine Knight roared in anger, "Who do you think you're fooling? I clearly saw my subjects cultivating your wasteland! Don't think you can just plunder other lords' populations because you're a lich!"

"Don't you humans let your sheep graze for their own food?" Ambrose said dismissively. "I'm keeping these captives. Am I supposed to feed them personally if they don't farm?"

"Damned undead!" The Porcupine Knight was furious but could find no rebuttal.

Did this mean that after all the trouble and expense of assembling an army, they would gain nothing?

He had calculated every possibility, but he never expected their very reason for war to be so flimsy.

The Porcupine Knight was now worried not about the battle itself, but about what would happen if they failed to kill Ambrose. If the lich survived and reported this version of events to the City of Alchemy, he and the other petty lords would be in deep trouble.

It wasn't about justice or truth. The City of Alchemy was just looking for an excuse to bring the hammer down on them.

The Porcupine Knight could already see the outcome: he and the other lords would be fined a huge sum for initiating hostilities without cause, and they might even have to cede their lands back to the City of Alchemy.

It was a lose-lose situation, one he could not accept.

At that moment, the mage advisor, Harvey, who had been hiding in the crowd, moved to the Porcupine Knight's side. "My lord," he whispered, "an unforeseen complication has arisen. I suggest we withdraw for today. We need a different approach."

The Porcupine Knight was not pleased.

Assembling an army was expensive. Every day the troops remained mobilized, they consumed vast amounts of food. To leave with nothing would be a pure loss.

Harvey could see his lord's hesitation. As an advisor, he should have been offering more proactive suggestions. But the moment Ambrose had appeared, Harvey's head had begun to throb, his Divination training screaming warnings at him.

This lich was dangerous. They had to get away immediately, or disaster would strike.

"My lord," Harvey urged, "if we continue this standoff, a real battle is inevitable. I do not believe the outcome will be in our favor."

Before the Porcupine Knight could decide, the paladin suddenly spoke up. "Sir Porcupine Knight, perhaps this is when mercenaries prove their worth. How about I lead the charge?"

The paladin could not let evil stand. With Ambrose appearing so brazenly in his lich form, this evil had to be purged.

The Porcupine Knight's eyes lit up. He had spent so much effort wooing these paladins precisely for this purpose—to deal with the lich. If they were confident they could eliminate the lich for good, then right and wrong would be whatever they said it was.

"Sir Paladin," the Porcupine Knight said, "are you truly confident you can handle this lich? If he escapes, we will all be in great trouble."

"Rest assured, we have ample experience in dealing with the undead," the paladin said with absolute confidence. "A lich's greatest weakness is not this skeletal body, but his phylactery. As long as his phylactery is hidden within that castle, he will not flee. Once we storm the castle, I will find the lich's phylactery and destroy him for good. Now, please give the order."

"Very well. In the name of House Jaes, I command you to destroy the evil before us. Mage Harvey, I order you to assist the noble paladin in vanquishing this vile lich."

The Porcupine Knight gave the formal command. Harvey could only sigh inwardly. Reluctant as he was, he had to obey.

A paladin, a Cleric of Light, and a mage apprentice—the three of them rode out from the ranks, slowly approaching Ambrose.

The paladin disdained a sneak attack, advancing openly and proclaiming loudly to Ambrose, "Evil undead, today I shall grant your soul purification in the name of the Holy Light!"

With that cry, the paladin charged.

It was the signal to attack. The Porcupine Knight immediately ordered his soldiers to follow the paladin and storm Ambrose's castle.

The charge of a thousand soldiers was a thunderous,震撼ing sight.

Ambrose was somewhat surprised. He had underestimated the resolve of these humans. But this was fine. He was running a bit low on experimental subjects lately.

With a wave of his staff, countless skeletons clawed their way out of the ground.

Even in broad daylight, the skeletons were unaffected, quickly forming ranks under Ambrose's command.

Seeing these frail, stumbling skeletons only bolstered the paladin's confidence.

Such weak undead were meaningless, no matter their number. A brilliant light flared from the paladin, enveloping his body. The intense holy light clung to his armor and weapon, and even coated the warhorse beneath him.

The paladin crashed into the horde of skeletons. The fragile-looking creatures were purified by the holy light before they even got close, instantly disintegrating into dust.

These ordinary humanoid skeletons stood no chance against a paladin from the Ryan Empire. They couldn't even slow his charge.

Seeing the paladin about to reach him, Ambrose cast Fly and soared into the air.

The paladin remained unfazed. He'd seen plenty of flying undead. He raised his weapon high, and the Cleric of Light who had been following him began to chant.

"In the name of the Lord of Dawn, I command you to grovel before the Holy Light!"

An ominous light fell upon Ambrose.

It was the cleric's most common spell: Command.

By channeling the power of a god, it created immense pressure, compelling the target to obey a single word.

However, since the Lord of Dawn was a good deity, the Command spell couldn't force someone to commit suicide or self-harm. But it could command a target to grovel, drop their weapon, or flee the battlefield.

These effects were extremely powerful in combat. Imagine a warrior forced by Command to drop his sword and prostrate himself on the ground. What would happen next?

The spell itself couldn't kill, but a longsword certainly could.

If Ambrose were controlled by Command, he would plummet from the sky, eat dirt, and then have his head lopped off.

A lich could regenerate, but that took time—time the paladin could use to break into the castle and find Ambrose's phylactery.

"Heh, they're underestimating me."

A red glimmer flashed around Ambrose, and the light of the Command spell was instantly reflected back, striking the cleric and nearly knocking him off his horse.

Counterspell. A mage's most proficient tool. It could nullify a targeted spell by expending an equal or even smaller amount of mana.

The cleric showed no panic. As mentioned, the paladins and clerics of the Ryan Empire had seen most of the tricks the undead could pull. So far, Ambrose hadn't done anything to surprise them.

The reason they used the spell, knowing it would likely fail, was purely to draw Ambrose's attention and allow them to close the distance.

And now, they were in position to use their real trump card.

The cleric produced a magic scroll and quickly recited the incantation.

In less than half a second, a faint blue energy shield expanded, trapping Ambrose within.

Antimagic Field!

Within the field's range, all magical effects were dispelled. No new spells could be cast, all summoned creatures were forcibly banished, and even enchanted equipment was reduced to mundane, magicless objects.

Inside this field, Ambrose's Fly spell should have immediately failed, sending him crashing to the ground. His vaunted spellcasting abilities would be completely sealed.

That's what should have happened.

But as the paladin and the cleric watched with expectant eyes, Ambrose didn't fall from the sky. He vanished completely.

The paladin reacted instantly, shouting, "Damn it, that was an illusion!"

The next second, countless points of sickly green light erupted from the direction of the castle. Like a meteor shower, the lights rained down upon the soldiers. Amidst a chorus of screams, mortals were corroded into bare bones, causing massive casualties in an instant.

From the castle gateway, Ambrose's voice dripped with scorn. "Too young, too naive. What kind of lich would face a paladin with his real body? Did you think I spent all this money on a magic castle for nothing?"