This Lich is a Better Landlord Chapter 70

Although Withered Rose was also a Legend, her specialization was necromancy.

Her Legendary Grace, *Death Gaze*, allowed her to amass a vast army of the undead in the Underdark. She had always focused solely on the study of necromancy and dabbled very little in other areas.

Ambrose was different. He was the type who was curious about everything, wanted to try everything, and couldn't settle his mind—otherwise, he wouldn't have abandoned the power of the School of Divination so easily.

Before advancing to Legend, he had been interested in everything related to magic.

Thanks to the diverse methods of extending life in this world, back when Potion of Youth wasn't too expensive, Ambrose had enough time to satisfy his curiosity. Alchemy, Magical Construct Studies, Necromancy, Divination, Evocation, divine arts, and so on—he had spent a decade or so researching almost everything. Perhaps he couldn't achieve perfection in a single field, but in terms of the breadth of knowledge, few in the Nine Great Kingdoms could surpass him.

Therefore, Ambrose recognized at a glance that the structure of the sewers was a modified *Wish* spell circle.

The reason it looked like alchemy was that these lunatics had drastically modified the magic circle, turning a spell originally cast by an individual into a massive ritual, attempting to simplify the casting difficulty.

After carefully studying the diagram, Ambrose gave his conclusion: "A genius idea, but only madmen would do this."

*Wish* was the strongest spell attainable below the level of gods. There was no equal.

And the highest-end spells often required the simplest casting methods. Casting *Wish* required only a simple gesture; no sacrifices or preparation were needed, and technically, even mana wasn't mandatory.

It sounded like the casting cost was disproportionate to the result—simply a miracle.

But historically, few people could successfully cast *Wish*. The principle of *Wish* was to make a request to the world itself. The laws of the world would then feed back a test, the content of which concerned the understanding of those laws.

The difficulty was roughly equivalent to the "Millennium Prize Problems" Ambrose had seen before transmigrating—century-old puzzles that countless geniuses in history couldn't solve.

Is math hard? A piece of paper and a pen are all you need to calculate, so technically, the barrier to entry isn't high.

The test of the *Wish* spell was similar. You could say it's hard, but it asks for nothing from you—only that you answer the problem given by the world's laws. You could say it's not hard, but there's no way to cheat. You either know it, or you don't. No matter how much wealth, status, or power you have, none of it helps with the test of *Wish*.

The only thing that can provide assistance is your personal wisdom.

This is the uniqueness of the *Wish* spell. Anyone can cast it, but among billions, no one truly understands the essence of the world.

Only a few gods can use *Wish* without restriction because they are essentially part of the world's laws.

For mortals, the consequences of failing a *Wish* spell are tragic—the kind that requires an age-restriction warning if written in a book.

But even if you luckily answer the world's difficult question, it doesn't mean your *Wish* is a success.

*Wish* and *Perfect Wish* are two different things.

When your wish is granted, the method of implementation is often unsatisfactory.

The laws of the world are like an administrator who strictly follows the rules but hates loop-holing. *Wish* is essentially finding a loophole in the rules, so the laws will try their best to make your wish have side effects as a punishment.

For example, wishing for a dead relative to resurrect. They might resurrect, but at what age and in what state is uncertain. If you don't specify clearly during the wish, they might resurrect as a newborn with no memories, or in a state of senility on the verge of dying again.

If you wish for an enemy to die without specifying the method, you might be thrown hundreds of years into the future. Your enemy would have died of old age surrounded by grandchildren, while you skipped those centuries, completely out of place with everything.

In short, *Wish* is a trap. Even someone as reckless as Ambrose wouldn't play with *Wish*; success or failure, there was a high probability of something going wrong.

Yet the lunatics of the City of Alchemy had set their sights on *Wish* and boldly transformed it into a ritual magic.

Ambrose studied the various structures on the blueprint and roughly guessed the effects of this ritual.

The first was extending the casting time.

*Wish* takes effect instantly. Like a math problem: you either know it or you don't, result in a split second.

But this ritual extended the "solving time." Ambrose couldn't see exactly how long or at what cost, but it was certain that this spell required continuous casting.

Does extending the time mean it can be solved? Just as giving someone centuries won't help them solve a math problem they don't understand, time was never the key point for *Wish*. Ambrose didn't understand these madmen's thoughts, but this function occupied the vast majority of the magic circle and was likely the foundation for all other effects.

The second effect was sacrifice.

Flesh, souls, mana, intense emotions, and so on—almost anything could serve as a sacrifice for this ritual. It was only possible because the magic circle was large enough; otherwise, achieving this "all-comers welcome" effect would be impossible. Different sacrifices corresponded to different structures within the circle during the offering. Such a design of overlapping yet non-interfering elements was truly a work of master craftsmanship.

No wonder those lunatics didn't hesitate to deceive fate and forge a prophecy.

This was to attract ambitious people from all over the continent to adventure in the sewers of the City of Alchemy. Everything about them would become sacrifices for this ritual—even if they were lucky enough to escape, the emotional fluctuations during their adventure would provide power for the circle.

It was truly amazing. Not just the genius idea, but to realize such an outrageous effect, who knows how much cost they invested in research and improvement? Decades or centuries? Tens of millions or billions? Such desperate madness was something only those alchemists were capable of.

Ambrose quickly took out a notebook to copy it down, adding a pile of notes and insights. This was knowledge of extraordinary value.

But after copying it, Ambrose fell into deep thought. What was the use of sacrificing these things for *Wish*?

According to magical principles, only wisdom is required for *Wish*. What use is sacrificing flesh and souls?

Looking at this incomplete blueprint, Ambrose felt his bones itching.

If he could perfectly crack this ritual magic and sell it, how much would it be worth?! All spellcasters in the Nine Great Kingdoms would go crazy for it!

besides these two most obvious effects, there were auxiliary effects like concealment, stabilization, and illusions, all used to maintain the operation of the ritual. The blueprint was too rough, so Ambrose couldn't figure out all the details.

These lunatics had turned the entire sewer system into a *Wish* magic circle, and it looked like the circle was already in operation.

So the question was: What exactly did they wish for?

Connecting it to the prophecy of the City of Alchemy's destruction... did something go wrong when they made the wish?

Was it that they failed the *Wish* test and were sanctioned, or was the description of the wish inaccurate, leading to them being ruthlessly played by the world's laws?

There was too little intelligence. Ambrose couldn't reach a conclusion right now.

Smelling danger, Ambrose prepared to discuss it with Withered Rose, hoping the Undead Queen of the Underdark could offer some opinions.

But before he could send another message, a Paper Phoenix flapping colorful wings flew in front of Ambrose.

The letter unfolded automatically. It was an official document from the City of Alchemy, demanding he hand over Alan and the other Paladins. And at the end of the document was this sentence: "The Wish Engine is ready and can accept your wish at any time."

Ambrose looked at the document, then at the incomplete diagram of the ritual magic. A bad premonition surged.

Damn fate. It seemed the time for his head to roll had truly arrived.