Gods cannot adjudicate marital disputes, and Ambrose, a re heartless Lich, understood even less about how to diate emotional problems between husband and wife.
So, he responsibly told Gareth the news that the Bone Dragon heiress was arriving soon, leaving him to nurse his own headache.
Ambrose originally thought Gareth would imdiately run for the hills, ensuring his castle wouldn't be destroyed by dragon breath.
To Ambrose's surprise, Gareth's first reaction was that the Orc girl was in danger.
"I know her too well. If she found out I was in the City of Alchemy long ago, then Ona must have been under surveillance too. She's likely in danger. I have to go save her."
Although the Orc woman had sold the bar, moving wasn't easy. She had been busy dealing with various assets and hadn't left the City of Alchemy yet.
Ambrose hurriedly said, "Gareth, if a third party is really involved and you go to save her, won't that make your wife even angrier?"
"If I don't go, Ona will definitely die. If I go, she still has a sliver of a chance."
Gareth slamd his helt on, transforming back into the scruffy middle-aged adventurer, and rushed toward the City of Alchemy without delay.
Ambrose couldn't decide if those words made him a warm-hearted man or a scumbag.
Whatever. It was soone else's family matter; Ambrose shouldn't interfere too much. Besides, he had more important things to do.
The first task was to repair the Quicksilver Effigy's injuries.
In the assassination plan earlier, the Quicksilver Effigy had once again demonstrated combat capabilities that surprised Ambrose. Its powerful tal-devouring ability had nearly ruined Starlight's enchanted armor.
If Starlight's equipnt hadn't been so luxurious, the Quicksilver Effigy alone would have caused the Paladin significant trouble.
But the little guy had accidentally taken a hit from a Divine Smite and suffered heavy damage.
Now, the little creature lay feebly in a glass jar, in urgent need of large amounts of tal to recover.
Ambrose wasn't stingy. He threw the scrapped Paladin equipnt right in, letting the little guy have a feast. Paladin armor was made of top-grade tal—not only light and flexible but also exceptionally sturdy. Who knew how much adamantine and mithril was mixed in? It was certainly more expensive than its weight in gold.
Yet, these sturdy tals were rapidly corroded and absorbed as the Quicksilver Effigy wrapped around them. The originally dying creature recovered its spirit at a visible rate, and several lines of varying depth appeared on its silver body.
"Adamantine and mithril? Indigestion from eating too much?"
Ambrose was worried that perhaps these two rare tals couldn't be fully absorbed, leaving these thread-like patterns on the Effigy's body. But soon, he realized this wasn't indigestion. On the contrary, the little guy had eaten high-grade tal and started to evolve.
Ambrose spoke gently to the Quicksilver Effigy, "Co, my little darling. Let see what you look like after growing up."
As the creator of the Quicksilver Effigy, the little guy was naturally obedient to Ambrose. Hearing the command, it imdiately puffed up as if inflated.
A gold-edged longsword extended out, slicing the glass jar open smoothly with a gentle stroke.
Monts later, small tal plates erged from the Effigy's body, assembling into a diamond-shaped shield.
One look and Ambrose knew: it was a shield made of mithril. Light, yet sturdy.
"You can replicate the properties of the tals you devour, can't you?" Ambrose asked.
The Quicksilver Effigy jumped up happily, seemingly responding to Ambrose's question.
This trait was incredible. There were many special tals in the world. If he fed the Quicksilver Effigy enough high-level tals, was there a possibility of it advancing to Legendary rank?
Thinking of this, Ambrose hurried to his treasure room and brought out a helt radiating pure white light.
This was the magical equipnt stripped from Starlight's head. It possessed incredibly intense Holy Light energy, and Ambrose could feel the presence of divine power within it.
Without a doubt, this was a replica of an artifact. It might not be the real thing, but the divine power inside was genuine. The Ryan Empire probably didn't have many of these.
It must be worth a fortune. However, Ambrose prepared to let the Quicksilver Effigy swallow it.
Ambrose couldn't use the Holy Light power, and selling it would be difficult. Buyers who could afford it wouldn't dare offend the Ryan Empire, and those with a grudge against the Empire usually couldn't afford it. Soone like Withered Rose, who could afford it and hated the Empire, was undead like him. She had clearly stated she had no use for it unless it was free; she wouldn't waste money just to smash it.
Rather than haggling with the City of Alchemy again, he might as well feed it to the Quicksilver Effigy. Maybe there would be a surprise.
Thanks to Master Morgan's research, the Quicksilver Effigy was a living creature, not undead, so it wasn't countered by Holy Light. It might be able to absorb all the divine power inside.
However, this helt seed tough to chew. The Quicksilver Effigy lay over the helt, corroding it bit by bit, but the speed was extrely slow. Ambrose had to place the Effigy and the helt into another glass container to let the little guy digest it slowly.
Done with that, Ambrose ran to the castle's dungeon.
The originally empty dungeon was now full of hanging Paladins.
Seeing Ambrose appear, they all revealed angry expressions, looking as if they wanted to cast Divine Smite and chop him into ash right there. But they could only move their eyes. Each Paladin had several layers of seals placed on them by Ambrose. Stripped of their gear, they had no chance of escape.
Ambrose walked up to a female Paladin, examined her face carefully, and then reached out to pinch her cheek as if inspecting livestock.
Fire nearly spewed from the Paladin's eyes, but she could only glare at Ambrose, helpless to resist.
After confirming that her appearance hadn't been disguised, Ambrose released her and removed the seal on her mouth.
The mont she regained the freedom to speak, the lady shouted a torrent of abuse at Ambrose.
Ambrose listened for a few seconds, then said, "Save your energy, will you? The words you people use to curse don't add up to the number of Paladins in this room."
It was always "despicable," "shaless," "filthy," and "ugly." Extrely specific, not even bringing family mbers into it. Ambrose estimated that these Paladins had never argued with anyone since childhood; these insults were probably learned from scriptures.
This kind of cursing had zero lethality. Pointing at a Druid and making fun of them shedding fur after transforming hit harder than this Paladin's insults.
"I'll ask you a question. Did only ten of you co this ti? Are there any other Paladins? Especially female Paladins?" Ambrose asked.
A mouthful of bloody spit flew out, which Ambrose dodged easily.
The Paladin sneered, "Stop dreaming. I won't answer anything you ask. Kill if you have the guts!"
Ambrose sighed. "Can't you let save so mana?"
Tracing pink mana lines with his fingers, Ambrose pressed a *Charm Person* spell onto the Paladin's forehead.
A few minutes later, Ambrose left the gloomy dungeon with heavy doubts.
"It seems the one who takes my head isn't among these Paladins."
Out of ten Paladins, there was only one woman, and she was built like a tank with a rugged temperant—very "politically correct" in appearance.
This look was completely different from the beautiful woman with skin like white jade in the prophecy; there wasn't even a shred of resemblance.
Ambrose pondered for a mont and ca to a disturbing conclusion.
If it wasn't these Paladins, then the person who would take his head... could it be those crazy alchemists?
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