This Lich is a Better Landlord Chapter 93

The sudden appearance of the elves was outside Ambrose's expectations.

Ambrose carefully scrutinized the group, deducing their identity from their attire.

"Twilight Guards of the Silvermoon High Court?"

This was a squad composed of high-ranked professionals among the elves, considered the elite troops of the Elven race.

Unlike other conservative elves who stayed home, they typically traveled across the continent to broaden their horizons and gain experience before joining. Only after becoming high-ranked professionals would they return to the Silvermoon High Court to become true Twilight Guards.

Twilight Guards were also the reason for the existence of most half-elves on the continent.

Traveling and adventuring, after all, involved many thrilling moments. Spending day and night with companions naturally sparked romance. Plus, elves were beautiful regardless of gender. No matter how conservative an elf was, they couldn't withstand decades of attracting attention and people throwing themselves at them; there were always moments of weakness.

Pursuing romance was also in the nature of elves; thus, half-elves often came into being.

Because other races had difficulty bearing half-elf children, often resulting in difficult labor, a very dark joke slowly evolved.

*A half-elf is doubly unloved.*

Meaning, the father was a scumbag who returned to Silvermoon High Court, and the mother died in childbirth. With both parents gone, they were naturally doubly unloved.

But whether this dark joke was born of jealousy or the resentment of being dumped, it proved one thing: Twilight Guards were not ordinary elves who just stayed home weaving leaves.

Every one of them had experienced many adventures and survived these dangers, so each could be called a sharp-intuitioned, agile powerhouse.

Therefore, Cicero's expression turned grave after just one glance at Ambrose.

Although the young man's features were softer than an elf's, his entire body radiated a terrifying dark aura that made one shudder—something Cicero hadn't seen even in his decades of adventuring.

Cicero identified the evil aura Ambrose was emitting and probed tentatively, "A necromancer visiting out of the blue? It seems this Lord has quite a wide circle of friends."

The Porcupine Knight looked at Ambrose, identifying him carefully, then said in confusion, "I do not know this mage."

During the previous battle, The Porcupine Knight had seen Ambrose in his skeletal form. Now that he had transformed into a human, he couldn't recognize him.

"Can someone tell me what happened here?" Ambrose asked.

He had come to find trouble with The Porcupine Knight, but the elves, with whom he had a bigger grudge, had also appeared. This chaotic scene made even him pause for a moment.

Cicero said cautiously, "Just a friendly exchange, and we are finished talking."

Facing Ambrose, this golden-haired elf lost his previous arrogance because he could clearly sense Ambrose's powerful magic. He didn't know that this was a body Ambrose had just repaired. Because it was too fragile, he couldn't quite control the leakage of dark magic, which was why others could spot the clues at a glance.

In Cicero's view, this young necromancer was probably just passing through. They had achieved their goal, so there was no need to invite more trouble.

The Porcupine Knight, seeing this scene, felt even more excited inside.

The behavior of these elves... wasn't it exactly like him just a moment ago? Cautious, humble, just wanting to avoid trouble.

Thinking of this, The Porcupine Knight suddenly shouted, "Mage! Regardless of why you came to find me, for the sake of us both being humans, please help me! These elves want to forcibly occupy my territory. Help me drive them away, and I am willing to pay you a high reward!"

The Porcupine Knight had noticed the elves' expressions were off. A large group of elves facing this lone young mage looked as solemn as if they were facing a dragon. Seeing a turn for the better, The Porcupine Knight couldn't help but want to gamble.

Small figures were helpless in the tide like this. Knowing that swaying back and forth was a path to death, he still couldn't help but try. The future was a fog of despair; jumping back and forth was just trying to inch forward a bit. He didn't know if the next step would lead to the abyss, but he wouldn't be reconciled without trying.

Ambrose really wanted to say that he wasn't here to help, but hearing The Porcupine Knight say he was willing to pay *any* price, his fingers twitched involuntarily.

Although he knew these words didn't mean much, just like flattery—even knowing it was polite complimenting, Ambrose just liked hearing it.

Excellent. Now he didn't have to agonize over which side to deal with first.

Cicero's reaction wasn't slow either. With fluid movements, he took the longbow from his back and fired three arrows at Ambrose in rapid succession. These arrows were burning with raging flames; clearly, they were not ordinary goods.

The other elves coordinated perfectly as well.

Before the flaming arrows even hit, a large patch of slick grease appeared beneath Ambrose's feet. This grease not only made footing unstable but would also burn violently upon meeting open fire.

Someone else threw out a *Silence* spell, trying to seal Ambrose's spellcasting ability.

These elves looked like rangers, but they were all skilled in using magic. As expected of a long-lived species; living a long time gave an advantage in multiclassing. When one path reached a dead end, they could switch to another and continue.

Against such coordinated elites, in the past, Ambrose would have scrambled to cope, and with bad luck, he might have failed.

But things were different now.

The *Golden Throne* instantly appeared behind Ambrose. Then, Ambrose blocked all attacks with a simple *Shield* spell.

Flaming arrows, grease explosions, *Magic Missiles*, *Witch Bolts*... The power of the *Golden Throne* allowed the low-level *Shield* spell to display incredible defensive power.

Cicero's eyes nearly popped out because he recognized Ambrose's power. This was an effect of ignoring rules that only a Legend could achieve. How bad was his luck to encounter a Legend here, and a mage at that?

True Legendary power was breaking common sense and modifying rules.

Withered Rose's Death Gaze was the same. As long as she locked onto you, ignoring any magic resistance, she could turn you into an undead from a distance, completely overturning all rules of necromancy.

This was why Legends were called Demigods. When they could modify rules and cheat, ordinary people had no chance against them.

Ambrose was happy. He had been a Legend for so many years, and finally, he got to experience true Legendary power.

The *Golden Throne* radiated light. Ambrose sat on it, steady as Mount Tai. No matter how the elves attacked, they couldn't break the thin *Shield*.

A moment later, the elves' attacks began to weaken.

A round of bursts had consumed most of their mana and arrows, yet Ambrose hadn't even lost a hair.

Sitting on the *Golden Throne*, Ambrose leisurely crossed his hands and said to the elves, "Are your attacks done? My turn."

With a snap of his fingers, a large area of small teleportation circles appeared in front of Ambrose.

Mantis Skeletons, upgraded to version 6.0, appeared in droves. Besides them, there was a special skeleton draped in a black robe holding a bow and arrow.

The mantis-form Alien Skeletons faded from view immediately after appearing. Only the sound of bone claws crawling on the floor remained in the hall. At such a short distance, before the elves could cast *See Invisibility*, the invisible skeletons had pounced on them.

Screams rang out. Several elves were tackled directly to the ground, their bodies riddled with bloody holes.

Lucky elves dodged the invisible skeletons' pounce using their perception and drew short swords to counterattack, but the black-robed Skeleton Archer would shoot an arrow at them, accurately knocking the weapons from their hands.

Ambrose looked at this Skeleton Archer with satisfaction and said, "It seems you have mastered this body."

The Skeleton Archer was actually Husky (Hales). Ambrose had pieced together a bone body for him and thrown him into the private space, adjusting the time flow to the maximum.

One day outside, one year inside.

Husky had adapted in Ambrose's private space for several years and finally mastered how to use soul fire to sense the outside world and control the body. When Husky filtered out other irrelevant information, his soul fire sensed every minute movement of the elves, allowing for precise shooting.

Speaking of which, Husky was also a half-elf, but he showed zero softness towards these kin. White bone arrows *thwip-thwip-thwipped*, pinning the elves' limbs to the ground.

It was a pity the time was still too short. Even though Husky possessed the powerful soul of a high-ranked undead, he lacked a matching body. This skeleton frame wasn't much stronger than a standard skeleton soldier; he needed more time to condense dark magic and strengthen this body.

By then, the combat power Husky displayed wouldn't be much less than a Death Knight, able to arm-wrestle high-ranked Paladins.

As the elves fell one by one, Cicero knew he was likely doomed this time. However, he didn't choose to flee. Instead, with maximum speed, he cast a miniature teleportation spell, sending away the magic contract in his hand.

Seeing this, Ambrose said in surprise, "I intentionally went easy on you, hoping someone would escape so I could discuss ransom with the Elven race. But you don't seem prepared to run."

Cicero didn't answer. He drew dual swords and charged at Ambrose. In this moment, Cicero transformed into an agility-type warrior, bypassing Husky in the blink of an eye and arriving in front of Ambrose.

Magical runes lit up on the dual swords. When they pierced into Ambrose's *Shield*, although they were blocked immediately, Ambrose suddenly felt the mana consumption of the *Golden Throne* increase drastically.

These were obviously a pair of powerful enchanted weapons. The elite squad of the Elven race indeed had something up their sleeves. But these short swords still failed to harm Ambrose. Before the blades could touch his body, the magical light of *Hold Person* had fallen upon Cicero.

The enchanted blades hovered in front of Ambrose's face, ultimately failing to touch him.

Extending a finger to push away the blade before his eyes, Ambrose ordered Husky, "Tie them all up. We'll take them back and deal with them slowly."

Husky respectfully accepted the order. Ambrose retracted the *Golden Throne*, walked to The Porcupine Knight's side, and asked curiously, "What was that thing just now? Did you sign some contract with these elves?"