Lich for Hire-Chapter 38: What a Coincidence

He still remembered his days in training when the instructor had specifically warned them that standard swordsmanship was most effective against humanoid foes. "If you ever face something enormous, many-limbed, or monstrously deformed, don't try to suppress it with swordsmanship. Use divine magic immediately!"

He finally understood that advice. When the enemy was no longer human, most sword techniques lost their purpose—and could even become fatal openings.

The paladin had already taken several hits after just a few exchanges. If not for the durability of his armor, he would've been carved into pieces. The living mercury, now unshackled, moved with the manic delight of a child who had just discovered a new toy. It attacked with increasing fervor, its body warping into impossible shapes, striking from angles the paladin's training could never anticipate.

The tide turned swiftly. Seeing his disadvantage, the paladin's sword flared with holy radiance once more—but this time, lightning arced along the blade as well.

This was an advanced variant of Sacred Slash, infused with the power of thunder.

He had meant to save it for Ambrose, but who would've thought he'd be driven to desperation by such a bizarre creature?

The heavens themselves seemed to roar as the thunderous blade descended. Even though the living mercury conjured several long swords of its own to block, the divine strike was unstoppable. This empowered Sacred Slash could pierce through even the monster's innate resistance to inflict a fearsome wound.

Yet in the end, the sword only severed one of the creature's arms.

"I missed? How can that be?!"

The paladin stared in disbelief at his own blade. He had honed this attack over thousands of hours of training. How could it have missed?

The wounded mercury slime grew enraged beyond reason. Ignoring its injury, it surged forward and engulfed him completely. The paladin, having exhausted his mightiest attack, simply couldn't dodge in time. The creature's body wrapped around him like molten metal. Then, the devouring began.

The paladin struggled fiercely as bursts of holy light flashed from his body. The living mercury bubbled and hissed as if boiling under the radiance, yet it was useless. His armor and weapon were soon dissolved and absorbed, leaving him in nothing but his thin undershirt.

Golden hair, handsome features, noble bearing, and a sculpted body—elsewhere, this young paladin's looks would have sent noble maidens swooning. But the living mercury was unmoved. Still fuming, it condensed another blade, preparing to pierce his unprotected heart.

Without armor, the paladin was doomed.

But just then, Ambrose called out, "Don't kill him! Paladins are worth a lot of money!"

Furious though it might be, the living mercury couldn't disobey Ambrose. It slammed the paladin's head into the ground in protest, smashing his once-perfect face.

Ambrose chuckled. "Still sulking, huh? You should know that you only survived that last Sacred Slash because I stepped in. Otherwise, you'd have been vaporized."

He had underestimated his opponent. An advanced variant of Sacred Slash was the sign of a high-ranking paladin. And one so young was surely among the Lyon Empire's finest. He might even have been personally knighted by the emperor himself.

Ah, he'd really lost out. High-ranking paladins all had valuable equipment, but the living mercury had consumed it all.

Well, there was no helping it. He'd simply double the paladin's ransom.

Ambrose glanced at the paladin, who was still struggling to rise, and said mildly, "Don't waste your strength. Your comrades are already in my custody. If you want them to live, behave yourself and stay put."

The paladin's voice was firm: "We are servants of the Lord of Dawn. To die in combat is to ascend to Heaven. You cannot threaten me with death. We've long been ready to give our lives."

Ambrose smirked. "Heh. But not all your companions serve the Lord of Dawn, do they? Will you let them die for your piety? You swore an oath of devotion, didn't you? Protecting the weak is part of that vow."

The paladin froze, startled that Ambrose knew so much.

Every paladin took a sacred oath before their god. The Oath of Devotion, the Oath of the Ancient, and the Oath of Vengeance were the most common. Those bound by devotion were required to act with justice, uphold their word, and protect the helpless. It even extended to showing mercy to foes and never resorting to dishonor.

Harvey was one of their companions, an ordinary man who fought beside them. If Ambrose used Harvey's life as leverage, the paladin could not, in good conscience, allow harm to befall him.

To do so would violate his oath, and that was a sin far heavier than death.

"State your demand," the paladin said grimly. "I will never ally with the undead. Even if you threaten me with that magician's life, I will not cooperate."

"Who said anything about cooperation?" Ambrose replied lazily. "I'm only asking you to sit quietly as a prisoner. Once the Lyon Empire pays your ransom, you'll be free."

He had already done the math in his head. The priest, he would ransom for eight hundred thousand gold. The paladin, one million. Not a coin less.

It sounded outrageous, perhaps, but this was about market value, after all.

And if the paladin was worth that much, how much more valuable would be the living mercury, a creature that could match—and perhaps even outmatch—a paladin in combat?

Living mercury might well be the biggest business deal he'd make in centuries. And it certainly wouldn't come cheap.

The paladin, however, only sneered. "Save your efforts. The Empire never ransoms its prisoners. The Lyon Empire does not yield to threats, least of all from the undead. Demand gold from us, and you'll only bring the wrath of the Paladin Legions upon yourself."

Ambrose smiled faintly. "Wouldn't that be exactly what you want? Then tell me, why stop me from courting death? Now, your name."

The paladin hadn't expected such audacity. Was this lich truly willing to provoke the Lyon Empire over a handful of gold coins?

He couldn't fathom it, but he knew he had no other choice. Unless he wanted Harvey's blood on his conscience, he would have to accept captivity.

"My name is Allen Watson," he said calmly.

"Watson?" Ambrose tilted his head. "Is James Watson, the chief editor of Legendary Spellcraft, any relation of yours?"

The young paladin blinked. "You know my father?"

The soulfire within Ambrose's empty sockets flared violently. Through gritted teeth, he hissed, "Well now, isn't that a coincidence. I've known your father for many years."