This Lich is a Better Landlord Chapter 75

From the very beginning, Ambrose never intended to follow the City of Alchemy's script.

Knowing that the other party intended to harm him, how could he possibly walk into their trap? The multiple phylactery insurance policy was just one of his survival methods; he wouldn't easily discard this lich body either.

So, after tricking Gustavo Flynn away, he struck decisively.

*Fireball*. This is the highest-damage spell mastered by the vast majority of spellcasters. It boasts fast casting speed, high power, wide range, low consumption, and a high success rate.

The widely popular "Three-Fireball Sect" on the continent has a minimum entry standard: without the aid of bloodline talents or other potions and equipment, one must be able to rub out three large fireballs within six seconds.

It might sound like a low bar, but a triple *Fireball* combo is enough to kill the vast majority of creatures in the world. caught off guard, even a Legend would be severely injured by the blast.

Ambrose cast three fireballs, turning the massive teleportation room into a sea of fire. Three alchemists and the automatons guarding the sides were all blown to pieces.

There was only one lucky survivor who seemed to have defensive magical equipment on him. He managed to deploy a shield when the fireballs exploded, barely escaping death.

But his fate was even worse for it, because Ambrose had already pulled out a rapid-fire Magitech Rifle and emptied the magazine into him.

The magic shield was instantly shattered. The bullets lodged into his flesh, burrowed in, and then grew into massive Bone Coral. The fragmented flesh hanging off the Bone Coral looked bloody and cruel, yet possessed a strange, eerie beauty.

"The Osteo-Colony Virus is truly impressive. I really admire you alchemist lunatics."

Ambrose put away the Magitech Rifle and cast *Levitate*, flying out of the inferno.

He had already obtained what he wanted from the documents and had practically guessed what the *Wish* ritual was all about.

His previous speculation had been slightly off. The alchemists hadn't failed a wish, nor had they lacked detail or clarity in their phrasing. The real reason for all the trouble was that they hadn't started wishing yet.

The entire ritual magic was stuck in the "preparation" phase; it hadn't reached the stage where a wish could be made.

Simply put, there weren't enough sacrifices.

Two things were missing. One was Ambrose—a Legend to be sacrificed to provide the final push of power for the Wish Engine, which was primed to start. Gustavo Flynn's mission must have been to guide Ambrose into the ritual circle, tricking him into becoming the sacrifice.

He just hadn't expected Ambrose to bail out at the moment of teleportation and then immediately start his revenge.

"Greedy, simply too greedy. It's not like the City of Alchemy lacks Legends, but you insist on sending others to die rather than dedicating yourselves to your own ideals. If you had just jumped in yourselves, you might have succeeded. You deserve to fail."

Ambrose sighed with emotion as he began to summon skeletal servants.

The dead alchemists provided excellent raw materials. In moments, several alien-looking skeletons appeared beside Ambrose.

Kha'Zix Model VI, the ultra-enhanced version.

Not only was the design optimized once again to look more like a mantis, but they also came with a temporary invisibility effect.

Ambrose led these alien skeletons and fought his way out of the Council Tower.

He wasn't trying to escape. On the contrary, Ambrose was heading for the sewers too.

Fortune favors the bold. The *Wish* ritual was nearly complete; it just needed a little more fuel to start the wish. When that time came, who would be the one making the wish was still up for grabs.

However, before entering the sewers, he needed to find the second key item missing from the ritual.

Whether the ritual could be completed would be up to Ambrose to decide.

A surprise attack by a Legendary Lich threw the alchemists into chaos.

Ambrose fought his way out of the teleportation room, descending level by level. Any alchemists he encountered were instantly killed. No matter how many automatons there were, they couldn't stop Ambrose and a group of invisible skeletons in the narrow indoor spaces.

Just as he was about to fight his way out of the tower, a super-giant automaton, two to three meters tall, suddenly arrived.

A red-robed alchemist sat on the automaton's shoulder, speaking in a tone of utter disdain. "I knew Flynn was trash, but I didn't expect him to be this useless. He couldn't even trick you into the sewers. Tell me, when did you first realize something was wrong?"

It was John Dippel, the second seat of the Alchemists' Council, the one who had belittled Gustavo Flynn as worthless during the previous secret meeting.

Ambrose didn't know this man. He smiled slightly at him, as if about to speak.

But in the next second, a series of small sparks lit up on the tall automaton's body.

The mantis-like skeletons shimmered in and out of visibility on the automaton's chassis. Just as they were about to climb onto Dippel, Ambrose didn't remain idle; a *Fireball* was already prepped and hurled toward the man.

Just as the pincer attack seemed poised to finish Dippel off, the automaton's body shuddered. A semi-transparent force field expanded, not only knocking away the invisible skeletons but also perfectly blocking the *Fireball*.

Ambrose said with a hint of regret, "Improved Magic Shield, and installed on an automaton? Nice tech."

Dippel seemed very displeased that Ambrose had attacked without even a greeting. He said angrily, "You uncouth lich, do you not know how to speak?"

Ambrose shrugged and said to the alchemist, "Do you have a habit of saying grace before a meal? Sorry, I don't."

Dippel instantly understood the mockery, his eyes widening in rage.

As the second seat of the Alchemists' Council, he hadn't encountered anyone who dared disrespect him for many years.

"I will turn your bones into specimens!"

Dippel furiously slapped the automaton beneath him. The massive metal robot raised the cannon on its arm toward Ambrose.

Ambrose had no time for trash talk. Several shells fired from the cannon barrel, flying straight at him.

These weren't the cheap goods Ambrose made himself. Every shell was filled with alchemical agents. Their explosive power was stronger, not weaker, than a *Fireball*.

This was a Firepower-Enhanced Automaton. Ambrose had once wanted to get his hands on one to play with, and the one before him seemed to be a Plus-Plus-Enhanced version.

Ambrose was forced to use *Misty Step* to teleport and dodge. The shells landed on his original position, causing a violent explosion that blasted a large crater in the floor. having just escaped disaster, Ambrose casually fired a bolt of lightning at the automaton.

The electric current was weakened by the shield, but a significant amount of magical energy still landed on the machine. Sparks flew, and the automaton's arm drooped, seemingly damaged.

Unfortunately, before Ambrose could celebrate, Dippel slapped the automaton again. The damaged part glowed with golden light and was instantly repaired.

"Micro-divinity... Is your Legendary Boon appliance repair?" Ambrose laughed loudly. "Hahaha, you're even weaker than I am."

"Is that so? Then let me show you the power of Magical Construct Studies."

At Dippel's command, steam erupted from the automaton's legs, and it charged at Ambrose with incredible speed.

Ambrose was about to cast *Misty Step* to dodge again, but he suddenly felt his body stiffen.

The ring on Dippel's hand shone with a blinding red light—*Hold Monster* had landed on Ambrose.

Unable to dodge, Ambrose's fragile body couldn't withstand the impact of the multi-ton robot. With a crisp crack, Ambrose's skeletal body shattered directly, bones scattering everywhere.

But Dippel didn't look happy because, at the moment he smashed Ambrose's body, he didn't feel the opponent's soul fire extinguish.

"Is this *Feign Death*?! Can the undead use that too?"

Ambrose certainly wouldn't answer. After his body was torn apart, the original *Hold Monster* effect vanished. The bones gathered together again, reassembling into their original form.

Dippel wanted to repeat the trick, but suddenly heard a strange noise. His automaton seemed to have developed a glitch; the engine began to vibrate violently.

Dippel was forced to use his Legendary power again. No matter the problem, as long as it was an automaton he created, he could repair it instantly.

The engine recovered. Just as it was about to rejoin the battle, the moment it lifted its leg, a screw popped out of the automaton's foot, causing it to lose its balance.

"What is going on?!" Dippel was shocked, but he reacted immediately. "No, it's the power of the School of Divination! He is replacing my future!"

Divination wizards were rare, seldom seen across the Nine Great Kingdoms. Dippel hadn't expected the power of the School of Divination to be so terrifying, directly changing "might malfunction" into "will definitely malfunction."

The automaton kept pinging and clanging as screws and springs popped out, looking like it was about to be scrapped at any moment. Dippel could only repair it continuously, and the two seemed to be locked in a battle of attrition.

But Dippel had no patience to compare mana reserves with Ambrose. He took out a device resembling a remote control and pressed it. Hundreds of automatons began to close in from all directions.

Dippel said smugly to Ambrose, "I'd like to see how many futures you can replace."

Ambrose sighed. *This is why you really shouldn't fight in a spellcaster's territory; the home-field advantage is too great.*

"Surrender. You've already lost," Dippel threatened.

Ambrose, however, wasn't panicked in the slightest. He crossed his arms and said to Dippel, "Are you stupid? I'm a lich."

A massive surge of dark magic erupted from Ambrose's body, flooding the surrounding hundreds of meters like a tidal wave.

Ambrose chose to self-destruct.