This Lich is a Better Landlord Chapter 85

The Holy Light falling from the high heavens and the roar from the deep underground were both formless things, yet they seemed to collide physically. They crashed violently at ground level, creating countless explosions out of thin air.

The earth shattered; houses and buildings turned into ruins.

Both sides in the battle were submerged in the continuous explosions, but the paladins were somewhat more comfortable than the undead. Because James Watson's *Divine Intervention* was primarily intended to help his own people, more than half of the Lord of Dawn's power went to buffing the paladins' defenses and healing their injuries.

Dead paladins couldn't be resurrected, but those with even a single breath left were pulled back from the brink.

Not only that, they received powerful Holy Light buffs, remaining unharmed amidst the violent explosions.

Even James Watson was cleansed of the undead transformation, and he would be immune to such curses for a long time.

As for the undead side, apart from Gareth and Withered Rose, they were basically wiped out.

Powerful gods were unreasonable like that; just casting a glance was enough to turn the tide of battle.

This was also why Withered Rose had never considered using *Wish* to deal with the Ryan Empire—it was absolutely impossible to succeed.

This battle was lost. The regrouped paladins combined with this Supreme Adjudicator possessed a total power exceeding that of Gareth and Withered Rose.

Withered Rose specialized in necromancy. Without the distraction provided by the army, and with her *Death Gaze* ability blocked by the Lord of Dawn, her combat power was slashed by more than half. Gareth might still have the strength to fight, but Withered Rose knew her best friend had been monitoring the battlefield from the sky. That Bone Dragon heiress wouldn't allow her husband to fight to the death.

The hatred with Ryan was Withered Rose's personal vendetta. Having Gareth help was already the limit; the dragons wouldn't allow their son-in-law to fight James Watson to the death. Even the Bone Dragon heiress didn't want to join the war.

Although they failed to kill James Watson, Gareth's surprise attack had made the paladins pay a painful price. Withered Rose had only lost a dozen Death Knights and some Automatons that didn't belong to her anyway.

It was time to retreat.

Although Withered Rose had a bone-deep hatred for the Ryan Empire, finishing this fight allowed her to regain a shred of reason. She decisively sent a signal. In the sky, a dark cloud appeared abruptly and began to expand frantically, instantly enveloping Withered Rose and Gareth.

By the time James Watson gathered Holy Light power to disperse the dark cloud, everything inside had vanished.

"There was another Legendary-tier undead?! What is going on with this City of Alchemy?"

James Watson was so angry his face turned green. This battle looked like a win, but in reality, it was a loss.

The undead had all run away, but the paladins couldn't retreat yet because the mutation of the City of Alchemy hadn't ended. The violent tremors continued, and most of the city had turned to ruins.

Many residents of the City of Alchemy were buried under the rubble, and screams of misery could be heard incessantly.

James Watson could only grit his teeth and order, "All paladins, save as many of our compatriots as possible, then evacuate the City of Alchemy!"

Although the racial discrimination of these religious maniacs from the Ryan Empire was severe, they strictly adhered to the teachings of the Lord of Dawn. In times of suffering, they did not forget to help the weak. Even if limited to humans, they were worthy of the titles of Light and Holy.

Clad in Holy Light, the paladins split into several small squads, digging out all nearby humans.

The blessings granted by the Lord of Dawn now became key to saving lives. They possessed immense strength, they were indestructible, they could heal pain, and they could soothe hearts.

Nothing was more reassuring to victims than an *Aura of Vitality*, and nothing was a faster escape method than a Celestial Warhorse. Tons of rubble were lifted aside effortlessly. Putting a dozen victims on a horse's back took only seconds to transport them to a safe area, and their injuries would improve enough on the way to restore their mobility.

Humans were grateful to the paladins, but other races could only curse. These racist maniacs wouldn't even spare them a glance.

Forget glancing; if an orc lay on the road, the Celestial Warhorse might even trample over them.

Of course, it wasn't intentional, but they wouldn't go out of their way to avoid them either. To the Ryan people, outsiders were just weeds by the roadside; trampling them didn't matter.

But no matter how hard they tried, this bit of rescue was a drop in the bucket for the entire City of Alchemy. The tremors continued, and cracks on the surface multiplied.

Not only that, but the City of Alchemy seemed to be pushed by some strange force and was slowly rising.

Floating in mid-air, James Watson could see clearly that the ground of the entire City of Alchemy had already risen several meters, showing a clear state of levitation. This city was probably going to fly into the sky.

James Watson could only issue another order: "Hurry up. Ten final minutes, then full evacuation."

With that, he flew to the ground himself, grabbing several injured humans to send out of the city. He didn't need to command now; he had to contribute his own strength as well.

Meanwhile, in the sewers, Ambrose happened to be standing at the core of the *Wish* ritual, watching coldly as the ritual magic circle operated. A skeleton's expression couldn't be seen, but his tightly clenched hands betrayed his tension and unwillingness.

Things shouldn't have developed like this. Bullshit prophecy!

This went back to more than half an hour ago. The soul modification surgery was ultimately successful. Although Ambrose spent all his saved Dice of Fate, Gary Watts's soul finally reached what he considered the "Divine" state.

A soul that had completely lost its human form, a monster woven from thousands of silky tentacles.

But Gary Watts felt good about himself. He led Ambrose to the core of the ritual magic circle, and then, under the shocked gazes of Flynn and Dippel, merged directly into his own body.

The tentacle monster entered the human body, and the result was the human body beginning to mutate as well.

The originally hunched body wrapped in black threads, posed as if suffering, now had its flesh stripped from bone. The body began to change toward the form of the tentacle monster, ultimately turning into a twisted thing of connecting tentacles and black threads with only a single eye in the center.

"What did you do?!"

Dippel, approaching a mental breakdown, summoned his personal mount. A tall Automaton charged at Ambrose, seeming ready to crush all his bones.

But Ambrose showed no panic at all, simply saying, "I solved the biggest problem for you. Now you don't even need to sacrifice. Also, don't think about touching me. You will regret it."

How could Dippel believe Ambrose's words? The Automaton raised its arm high, the cannon barrel already starting to glow red. But just as it was about to fire, the Automaton's arm suddenly exploded, blasting Dippel away.

Dippel was shocked and heartbroken. How could the Automaton he meticulously built explode suddenly?

"Is it the power of prophecy again? No, that's not right!"

Dippel turned his head to look at the President, who had turned into a tentacle monster. Sure enough, the giant eyeball in the center was staring at him, emitting a majestic voice.

"Dippel, stand down. I have ascended to godhood. Everything proceeds according to the original plan."

After the tentacle monster finished speaking, Dippel watched his Automaton crumble into parts piece by piece. He tried to use the power of *Mending* to reassemble it but found it completely ineffective because this Automaton was no longer a whole. In the unseen realm, the power of law had decomposed it into parts—just parts.

Dippel's ability was to repair his constructs, but now this thing had its definition of "construct" erased and was relabeled as parts. To activate his repair ability, he would have to reassemble it from scratch.

"President, have you gone mad? Look at yourself now! Why are you helping this Lich?!" Dippel said angrily.

The Tentacle President replied, "Because I made a pact with him. He helps me become a god, and I will grant his wish."

"Since you're already a god, why do you still need to keep the pact? President, I'm the one on your side! Doesn't the opportunity to make a wish belong to us alchemists?!" Dippel said excitedly.

Dippel originally thought the President-turned-tentacle-monster could give a reason. However, to his surprise, the Tentacle President simply said coldly, "Correct. I have ascended to become a god. Therefore, if I want to keep a promise, I keep it. If I don't want to keep it, I don't. Tiny thing, do not use your mortal thoughts to fathom a god."

Ambrose crossed his arms, leisurely watching the show.

The reason Gary Watts stood on his side was simple: Ambrose had tampered with his soul.

All Simulated Souls created by Ambrose, regardless of function or power, had a core setting—absolute obedience to Ambrose's commands.

Only a fool wouldn't leave a backdoor in the program they designed.

It was the same when modifying Gary Watts's soul, except Ambrose openly discussed with Gary Watts what modifications he would make. After all, Gary Watts's soul was powerful; Ambrose couldn't do it without his cooperation.

The old man, bent on becoming a god, didn't refuse Ambrose. But the requirements for soul ascension were too high. Humanity was an obstacle to Gary Watts becoming a god, and the backdoor designed by Ambrose was the same.

It was that feeling of "being tethered by worldly cares and unable to transcend." Caring about one's blood relatives and submitting to Ambrose the Lich had the same effect.

So, settling for the next best thing, Gary Watts wouldn't become Ambrose's slave, but in the vast majority of cases, he would stand on Ambrose's side.

And now, Gary Watts, having thoroughly merged with the *Wish* ritual, had touched the threshold of a god in terms of power. He could modify relevant laws, erasing the concept of "construct" from the Automaton with a single thought, rendering Dippel's ability completely ineffective.

amidst Dippel's despairing wails, Ambrose looked at the silent Gustavo Flynn and asked, "Flynn, my old friend, what do you think?"

Gustavo Flynn showed no anger or madness. Instead, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, saying to Ambrose, "We lost. I imagined countless possibilities of failure, only I never expected to lose to you."

"Don't be like that. Didn't you beat me by a hair in our debate years ago? Let me win one back."

Gustavo Flynn smiled bitterly, then said, "I concede. Let me leave. I hope we can meet again after you become a god."

The great alchemist took out a magic scroll and summoned a huge spatial gate, then walked into it without looking back, completely disappearing from the sewers.

Ambrose didn't stop him. Unlike Dippel, who specialized in Magical Construct Studies, Gustavo Flynn's alchemy was more obscure but also more destructive. If he wanted to leave, let him leave; otherwise, a fish-dies-net-breaks scenario would benefit no one.

Dippel was ruined, Gustavo Flynn had left. There should be no one left to stop him now, right?

Ambrose looked at the Tentacle President and said to him, "I'm going to make my wish now."

But just when Ambrose thought everything was ready, eerie applause rang out. A young alchemist appeared in front of Ambrose. It was Coin, who had previously been used as a sacrifice.

"As expected of you, Ambrose. You are as clever as ever, always having the last laugh."

Hearing someone call his name, Ambrose's soul shivered. Over these centuries, Ambrose had used many aliases. Tiga Ultraman, Elden Lord, Arthas, Dragonborn... so many he couldn't count.

Only the real name Ambrose was known by very few, and... they should all be dead.

Ambrose looked at the young alchemist and asked with extreme caution, "Which old friend are you, playing jokes on me here?"

Coin smiled, his appearance beginning to change drastically. From a handsome young blonde man, he turned into an old man—blind in both eyes, with white hair and wrinkled skin, even missing an arm. Disabled and weak, as if he had few years left to live.

Distant memories resurfaced. Memories from when he first transmigrated, memories he thought he had forgotten but were actually deeply engraved.

Ambrose's voice trembled. "You... you are..."

Finally, Ambrose squeezed a sentence through his teeth: "Long time no see, Teacher."