Lich for Hire-Chapter 64: A Lichs Wisdom

Starfall felt his head grow heavy and his feet unsteady. Even holy light refused to answer his call. Fighting through the dizziness, he tried to clench his right fist—he wore a ring that could trigger a divine spell capable of purging most poisons.

Before his fingers could close, however, a wine bottle smashed into his arm.

The bottle shattered. It didn't injure him in the slightest, but it interrupted his clench.

The orc bartender stood with half a bottle in hand, gazing at the ironclad figure before him with open regret. This bastard never took off his armor. Hard to ambush, no matter how you tried.

Starfall knew he'd been set up. There was no time to ask why. A surge of holy light flared from his body, instantly clearing his mind.

Spells that removed abnormal conditions were common, and he had multiple enchanted safeguards in place.

But the moment his clarity returned, a towering orc swung a warhammer straight at his head.

A golden shield flared to life across Starfall's armor, shedding most of the impact. At the same time, he seized his longsword. He slammed the pommel forward, smashing the orc back several meters and bowling over a cluster of adventurers rushing in to surround him.

Sword in hand, Starfall glanced around him. Brilliant light radiated from his blade.

Though the adventurers had him encircled, Starfall's aura forced them back step by step.

He leveled his sword at the orc bartender and spoke slowly, "I don't know why you're doing this. If you think two glasses of poisoned liquor would be enough to take me down... aren't you seriously underestimating the Knights Penitent?"

The orc bartender shrugged. "I said the dose wasn't enough. Boss said if we used more, you'd notice."

Starfall lifted the blade high and brought it down in a Sacred Slash.

Blazing radiance, like daylight, flooded the tavern. Before the blade even fell, the searing light had already scorched the wooden bar black.

But the strike never landed.

Two silver longswords shot up from beneath the bar at impossible angles, piercing straight through the countertop and stabbing toward Starfall's groin.

Against an ordinary ambush, Starfall wouldn't have bothered to react. His enchanted armor could shrug off most cold steel with ease.

Yet just as the blades were about to strike, an overwhelming sense of danger exploded in his mind. He wrenched his Sacred Slash down mid-arc to cleave both swords in half.

The orc bartender seized the opening. He hurled himself backward, crashing into a rotating hidden door behind the bar and vanishing in an instant.

Before Starfall could give chase, the attacker who'd been hiding under the counter leapt out.

"What the hell?!"

What Starfall saw was a mass of silvery-white matter, like mercury, lunging straight at him.

He hastily prepared another Sacred Slash to cut the thing down.

That was when his foot slipped. At some point, the floor had become slick with a viscous liquid.

"Grease?! When did that—"

Grease was a universal spell that could be used on almost any battlefield. Its effect was simple: coat the ground in slippery oil and make movement treacherous.

Starfall didn't lose his footing outright, but his body simply couldn't move as he desired. The Sacred Slash shaved off only a small portion of the creature's body.

The mercury-like mass shrieked as the remains of its body splattered onto him.

His enchanted armor immediately flared with magical light as wisps of green smoke rose from its surface. Before his eyes, the metal began to corrode, enchantments collapsing one after another.

Planting his sword into the ground, Starfall activated his cloak. Purple runes blazed to life across the fabric.

A thunderous boom erupted. A violent shockwave exploded outward from his body, blasting the mercury creature away and shattering the nearby bar into splinters.

Panting, sweat beading on his brow, Starfall steadied himself. The rapid succession of ambushes had pushed him to the edge.

Just what was that mercury? It had corroded his armor in seconds, destroying multiple enchantments and leaving him in a dire state.

Something was wrong. Had Alkhemia gone back on its word?

He prepared to cast Mist Step to escape, only to find that the space around him seemed warped and distorted.

"Spatial Lock?!"

That was an extremely advanced spell. A powerful caster was lurking nearby.

Starfall didn't dare delay. Anyone capable of casting Spatial Lock would be a nightmare to deal with. Even in a fair one-on-one, his victory was far from guaranteed.

And there were still over a dozen adventurers of unknown strength around him.

He had to escape and regroup with his companions. A dreadful thought crossed his mind—what if similar assassinations were happening elsewhere? If so, his comrades were in grave danger.

Holy light cleaved a path forward as Starfall sprinted across the slick floor. Every step was measured and precise. In less than two seconds, he burst out of the tavern.

What awaited him was not the bustling South Cross Street, but rather a sea of thick, pitch-black fog.

This was another simple yet practical spell: Darkness.

The darkness was so dense that it devoured all light. Even the holy radiance blazing from Starfall's body failed to pierce it.

In the pitch-black void, a deep voice resounded. "Poison resistance, electrification, enhanced movement... Just how many spells are enchanted into your gear? That's absurdly extravagant."

Starfall hurled a sphere of Sacred Flame toward the sound. It was a paladin's signature spell: low power, low cost, and exceptionally fast to cast.

The flame vanished into the darkness. It seemed to hit something, but the voice didn't even waver.

"Impressive. Truly worthy of the Lyon Empire's elite. Your instincts are almost on par with a diviner's."

Starfall wasted no time, layering protective spells onto himself until he resembled a blazing sphere of light.

"Stalling for time? Smart," the voice continued, amused. "You figured we'd never dare make a big scene with an assassination, that we don't want Alkhemia stepping in. Very clever, paladin of Lyon."

Though the words sounded like praise, Starfall heard nothing but mockery.

His mind raced. Finally, he chose to take a gamble. Light flared beneath his boots. With a powerful leap, he vaulted twenty meters in a single bound, clearing the edge of the darkness in one motion.

Enhanced Leap was a special ritual spell enchanted into his greaves.

Up to now, Starfall had only truly spent his own reserves on two Sacred Slashes. Most of his stamina remained intact. Yet he had already survived multiple lethal threats—proof of how crucial enchanted equipment was.

Once beyond the shroud of darkness, he finally saw his true enemy: a lich, floating in midair.

Starfall narrowed his eyes. He knew he was in serious trouble, but he burst out laughing instead. "So you're the lich. Honestly, you're much weaker than I expected. Are you really a legend?"

Against a legendary spellcaster, Starfall would never have fared this well in direct combat. He'd likely be gravely wounded by now.

Ambrose shrugged lightly. "I'm just a scholar devoted to research, not like you people who live to kill."

Starfall sneered. "A scholar who favors assassination? You undead really are shameless."

Ambrose was unmoved by the taunt. He continued calmly, "I didn't dare act before because I was unaware of what was at your disposal. And Alkhemia's a fence-sitter that wouldn't even share its intelligence with me. I was afraid that if I struck first, I'd fall straight into a trap. I only recently realized that you never even considered that I might take the initiative."

Suspicion flared in Starfall's heart.

Had information leaked?

His companions would never betray him. That left only the three hundred commoners they'd just taken in.

"But so what?" Starfall said coldly. "Your assassination failed, and you've exposed your own weakness. If I'd known you were this fragile, I could've purified you on my own."

Ambrose nodded. "True enough. None of you are legends, but each of you is wrapped head to toe in absurdly luxurious gear. Even I might not win against that."

"Then what?" Starfall laughed. "Thinking of surrendering?"

Ambrose shook his head. "No. I've found you a more suitable opponent. Gareth, he's yours."

As the words fell, an overwhelmingly massive silhouette appeared on the street.

Chains rattled. A colossal blade, larger than Starfall himself, came crashing down from above.