It really wasn't Ambrose's fault for going back on his word. As a lich, he had to commit the occasional act of evil to stay true to his nature. Otherwise, with paladins kneeling and bowing to him all day, what kind of undead would he be? What would his fellow undead think?
For most undead, perfectly reading the mories of an extracted soul was nearly impossible.
Souls were fragile. The clash between control and resistance would damage any soul. That was why most undead were dull-witted and slow: fragnted souls ant fragnted minds.
Only those who willingly beca undead could retain most of their reason.
But Ambrose was different. His ability to fabricate souls ant he could forcibly construct one from scratch. After years of research, his understanding of souls far surpassed that of ordinary mages.
The goblin's soul was drawn out and unraveled into threads in his hands. Its mories clung to those strands, nothing omitted.
"Let's see… hunting, eating, sleeping, eating, eating, eating… Are you nothing but a stomach? Ah, that poor bard… Wait, not even the tree hollow was spared…"
He sifted through the goblin's mories one strand at a ti. Most of it was aningless repetition: eating, sleeping, filth. The rest was revolting beyond asure.
One by one, the soul-threads snapped and dissolved into starlight. After skipping the useless portions, Ambrose finally found what he needed. Unfortunately, the information left him troubled.
Catherine reappeared beside him and asked curiously, "What is it? No suitable route?"
"There is a route. The western coast isn't far from here. The problem is that we must pass through several druid tribes of the Erald Dreamwood. The druids recently completed a ritual, covering most of the forest in a Dreamveil Barrier. Any outsider who approaches will fall into eternal sleep."
"Why? Why is there trouble wherever we go?" Catherine complained.
"Why else? Because of Lyon, of course. The Golden Kingdom suffered a crushing defeat and has already withdrawn from half the desert. The Erald Dreamwood fears Lyon will turn on them next, so they've been preparing for war for years. Six months ago, they finished the ritual. Now the Dreamveil Barrier envelops the forest. Outsiders can't enter at all.
"These goblins were expelled by the layered barriers. The forest is effectively in a state of war. Many unruly tribes have been driven out."
Ambrose felt an urge to wipe Lyon off the map. Those religious fanatics were forever stirring trouble, keeping all their neighbors on edge.
Then inspiration struck. "Wait. I can't go, but you can. Elves aren't affected."
The blessing of the elven gods granted elves absolute free will. Their minds were immune to drugs and spells. No sleeping draught or enchantnt could force them into slumber.
Catherine objected, "You don't sleep either. You're undead."
Ambrose shook his head. "You underestimate the druids. The Dreamveil Barrier doesn't care whether you need sleep. Even a cicada that would otherwise only live a single day will fall into slumber upon passing through the barrier."
Every kingdom had its specialty. Just as the City of Dawn was lethal to undead, where even a legendary undead would be purified, the Erald Dreamwood was nad for its Verdant Dreamveil.
A barrier created from the collective power of an entire nation was not sothing an individual could resist. Even weaker gods would suffer within it.
Only the strength of the elven gods' blessing might withstand such a compulsion.
"You an for to carry you through?" Catherine asked, visibly tempted.
Her last solo performance before a group of paladins had been nerve-wracking but thrilling. She was starting to see herself as a seasoned adventurer.
Ambrose shook his head. "No. Originally, our goal was to reach the western coast together and retrieve the elven artifact. But circumstances have changed."
Catherine narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"You're planning to swindle the druids now, aren't you?"
"What are you saying? Am I that sort of person? I always… conduct business properly. Don't slander . I've never cheated anyone." He offered this defense solemnly, ignoring her disdainful look. "My point is, the druids are tense. They fear Lyon may attack. Your appearance would be significant to them."
Catherine frowned. "I represent only myself. I'm no longer queen of the elves."
After the near-disaster with the paladins, she had learned her lesson. She had nearly dragged her people's reputation into the mud.
"You misunderstand," Ambrose said patiently. "The elves are in a weakened state. Who is your true threat? The dwarves? No. Your greatest danger is your so-called allies: the religious fanatics who shout about holy light and justice while swinging swords. This is an excellent opportunity for the elves and the druids of the Erald Dreamwood to strengthen the ties."
He continued earnestly, "I don't want you to deceive them. Schedule a formal visit to discuss a potential alliance and policy of cooperation for mutual benefit. Though your respective kingdoms are far apart, a long-distance teleportation array could be built with enough resources. Then both nations could support one another."
"Our goal is the artifact. Why suddenly discuss diplomacy?" Catherine pressed.
"Because the druids' situation has changed. If you visit openly, they'll welco you. And if talks go well, Naomi could openly learn from their legendary druids. It would be far better than sneaking around."
To save Harvey, they needed a ti dragon's power, requiring Naomi to transform into one. That demanded two prerequisites: first, she had to master draconic transformation; second, they needed the elves' ti-based artifact.
Originally, Ambrose intended to secure the artifact first. But splitting up would be more efficient. Naomi's training would take significant ti. Catherine could schedule an official visit, pretending that Naomi was her companion. Given that status, Naomi could openly learn from the Erald Dreamwood's legendary druids.
However, Ambrose himself could not accompany them.
No disguise could conceal the discord between undead essence and living nature from perceptive druids.
Thus, they would have to separate.
After a thorough explanation, Catherine finally understood what he wanted. This ti, there would be no deception—just a formal diplomatic visit.
It was less thrilling, perhaps, but better than trickery. After all, elves and druids famously got along.
"But how will you cross the Dreamveil Barrier alone?" she asked.
Ambrose had no ability to resist such a spell on his own.
"I'll go around."
"The detour will take days!"
"With you? Seven or eight days. Alone? One."
"That's impossible. You think I'd slow you down?"
She was a legendary mage too! Though her focus was on shapeshifting and transmutation, she could easily cast spells like Flight. How else did magicians travel? Diviners like Ambrose could hardly have access to better transportation spells!
"You wouldn't understand. So thods are exclusive to the undead."
She wanted to press further, but as an employee, she could only comply. She departed with Naomi toward the nearest druid tribe.
Ambrose drew them a detailed map and directions. With Catherine's skill, they wouldn't lose their way.
Once they were gone, Ambrose entered his extradinsional space and accelerated ti to its maximum rate.
He retrieved stacks of special tals, all materials converted to corpse-attribute alloys. Originally, he had planned to test them on Bear and Husky before upgrading himself, but those two were nowhere to be found. Ambrose didn't have the ti to find and summon them right now.
Resistance to holy light was now irrelevant. What he needed was durability.
He retrieved silvery-white tals from his extradinsional space: mithril, not ordinary silver. It was stronger than steel yet lighter, and exorbitantly expensive as a result.
Fortunately, Black Rose controlled vast mines. Mithril could be acquired at excellent prices.
Combined with special alloys and a carefully crafted magitech reactor, a perfect chanical body began to take shape.
His soulfire left his old skeletal fra and entered the mithril construct.
Seconds later, its reactor ignited. Ambrose lived.
He clenched a fist and took several steps. "With the reactor installed, this chanical body is far stronger than bone."
To his pleasant surprise, after gaining the abilities of a legendary ranger, his bodily control was exceptional. He easily adapted within minutes, unlike Bear, who had needed hundreds of hours of training.
"Better than expected. That'll save even more ti."
He exited his extradinsional space in his new chanical form. Beside him stood a massive magitech cannon.
After calculating the trajectory, he angled the barrel skyward and opened it, then climbed inside a specially crafted shell.
Also forged from mithril, the hollow shell represented his new mode of transformation. The cannon launched him forward.
A flight spell might reach sixty, perhaps seventy, kiloters per hour. His modified magitech cannon could accelerate a shell at speeds beyond a thousand kiloters per hour. Add a Featherfall enchantnt to reduce its weight, and his velocity would be even higher.
In theory. Ambrose had had no chance to test his numbers, until now.
"Consider this my contribution to science."
He activated the cannon.
After several seconds of charging, it roared and discharged. The mithril shell streaked across the sky, carving a white contrail through the air.
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