Things had taken a turn that even Ambrose hadn't foreseen. With little choice, he dragged Gareth back to his castle.
No longer able to drink, Gareth could only amuse himself with Allen Watson, claiming, "I'd like to see if the new generation of paladins has improved any."
Ambrose only had ti to mutter, "Don't kill him," before turning to his own work.
Given how Alkhemia operated, once that unlucky administrator reported the news, it would take at least five hours for the ssage to reach the Alchemists' Council. Then, it'd take another hour or two for a series of pointless debates over who would speak to Ambrose.
That gave him roughly seven hours to prepare: seven hours to secure the best possible terms at the negotiating table.
He dragged out a mountain of magical materials and even pulled Harvey, the apprentice magician, out of his cell to serve as an assistant.
Utterly confused, Harvey began helping Ambrose set up a large ritual circle.
At first, he had no idea what it was for. But as the circle took shape, he began to recognize several of its runes.
"Sacrifice... foresight... mana conduit... manifestation..."
The more he deduced, the more sweat gathered on his brow.
This was a prophetic ritual, one unique to the school of divination. Harvey had only ever read about it in tos. Its principle was simple: offer up a sacrifice, and the ritual would reveal a glimpse of the future. The more valuable the sacrifice, the clearer the vision.
Harvey's hands went cold.
What could be more valuable than a life? Obviously, he was to be the sacrifice. The lich must have lost his patience at last and was no longer willing to feed and house him for free.
Should he fight back?
He hesitated.
Cooped up in the castle, Harvey had indeed thought of escaping. He'd been studying like mad ever since his capture, hoping to strengthen his spellcasting. To his surprise, he'd learned a lot.
Ambrose's library contained an astonishing number of rare texts on the niche school of divination, almost enough to make him forget his fear at tis. He'd grown stronger, wiser, and sharper.
Perhaps he was strong enough to fight back.
Every ritual depended on precision. A single misplaced sigil could cause catastrophic backlash. Perhaps he could exploit that to wreck the ritual. If he were lucky, he would badly wound the lich in the process.
He didn't need to kill Ambrose; liches only truly died when their phylacteries were destroyed. All Harvey wanted was to wreck Ambrose's current body, then flee while the lich reconstituted himself.
"Stay calm. You can do this. The critical node is... here... and if I adjust this line just a little..."
While Ambrose wasn't watching, Harvey subtly altered a few runes.
These were minuscule shifts to the formation that, taken together, would result in a fatal flaw.
If Ambrose failed to notice what was happening, the ritual would turn on him. A violent magical backlash, an explosion, perhaps even a mana storm... Whatever the result, Harvey would have his chance to escape.
Everything was ready. He took a deep breath—
"Hey," Ambrose said casually, "why are you standing where the sacrifice goes? Get over here. You're manning the ritual."
"What?!" Harvey froze.
Ambrose continued, "You've spent days reading about divination. Don't tell you can't even recognize the circle's purpose. That'd be disappointing."
"Wait—wait, I'm not the sacrifice?"
Ambrose gave him a scornful, almost pitying look. "Don't flatter yourself. The more precious the sacrifice, the better the result. You're barely worth ten thousand gold at best, and this circle cost nearly two hundred thousand to construct. Using you would be a waste."
Harvey: "..."
He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or insulted.
No, no, that wasn't the main problem right now.
He'd tampered with the ritual. If he were performing it, the backlash would hit him!
Harvey suddenly felt like a clown.
Ambrose watched him dither until his knees began to tremble. Then the lich sneered. "Enough with the theatrics. You think I didn't notice your little tricks? Relax. You won't die."
"You knew?!"
"Of course I knew. The mont you started fiddling with the runes, I was already correcting them."
Harvey blinked, then frowned. "But why let take over the ritual, then? Just to humiliate ?"
From what he'd seen, Ambrose wasn't the type for pointless cruelty. He was practical to a fault, never wasting ti, energy, or resources. This ritual was costly; he wouldn't risk it for a prank.
Harvey felt like he needed the clarification, even if it ant angering the odd lich.
"To test you, of course. You're an apprentice diviner, aren't you?"
Harvey nodded. "It wasn't sothing I intended to hide. Master gaman, you're a diviner yourself, aren't you? Your library holds countless texts on divination, and so are even one-of-a-kind manuscripts."
Ambrose shook his head. "Not anymore. I gave it up."
"Why?" Harvey asked, baffled.
Ambrose didn't answer directly. "If you foresaw that you'd die tomorrow, what would you do?"
Harvey thought for a mont. "I suppose I'd spend my last day recording everything I've learned, so that soone might benefit from it."
Ambrose smiled faintly. "And that's the difference between you and . I can't accept fate that calmly. So I abandoned it."
Harvey fell silent, thoughtful. Then he asked, "But I'm just your captive. What's the point?"
"I want you to work for , of course," Ambrose said lightly. "Your lord refused to pay your ransom, so you'll work off your debt instead. I'll pay you two gold coins for overseeing this ritual. That should cover today's als."
Harvey: "..."
"Two gold coins for a chunk of hard bread?" Harvey muttered. "You're worse than a thief."
Ambrose ignored him. "Back to the point. I let you tamper with the circle because I wanted to gauge your understanding. I'm satisfied.
"Harvey, you're no longer at the level of an apprentice. You can call yourself a true diviner now."
Harvey's heart leapt. Despite all else, being recognized by the master diviner before him was an honor.
"Now," Ambrose said briskly, "get to work."
Then, reluctantly, almost as if he were in pain, Ambrose poured a glittering cascade of gold coins onto the altar. The sound of thirty thousand gold coins clattering made his soulfire flicker like a candle in the wind. Most of the advance paynt from Black Rose was now gone.
Harvey: "..."
Harvey stared. So the sacrifice was... gold? Sothing felt off, but given Ambrose's visible agony...
Steeling himself, Harvey began the incantation. "Master gaman, what are we divining?"
Ambrose's voice was serious. "The secret of Alkhemia's sewers."
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