This Lich Requests More Remuneration
Chapter 344 - 321: A Desolate Future

Chapter 344: Chapter 321: A Desolate Future

"This isn’t right, you said that devils require a contract to be signed, such a massive price to pay, what stakes did Tiamat provide?"

Mr. Misfortune was a bit panicked, desperately trying to grasp at a lifeline.

Amberser explained, "If they can defend these Gates of Hell, all those of the Impure Bloodline will have the opportunity to contract with the Red Dragons."

The Evil Dragon Goddess was once believed to be the progenitor of the Chromatic Dragons, though the authenticity is debatable, but she indeed controlled many of the Chromatic Dragons.

It was rumored that Tiamat had a powerful Dragon Knight Brigade which fought for her across various planes, though Amberser had never seen them in all his years of adventuring.

Mr. Misfortune, still not giving up, continued to ask, "Even if Tiamat paid the price, why must all those of the Impure Bloodline fall into Hell? Many have separated from the main family branch long ago."

Amberser helplessly said, "Uradimir, stop deceiving yourself. You know full well that it is because of the Impure Bloodline that they were able to branch out in this kingdom, becoming important figures in every region. They recognize this bloodline in their hearts, acknowledge their connection with the Impure ones, and are willing to accept the leadership of the Impure."

"Just like this kingdom, no matter what you say, the thirteen Impure are the rulers of the kingdom, and naturally they have the authority to betray the entire kingdom, let alone their bloodline descendants."

Mr. Misfortune clenched his fists and paced back and forth, then suddenly said, "There’s still a chance to save this, right? The devils only ask that the Gates of Hell are not destroyed, and the future we’ve seen is the Gates of Hell disappearing. Disappearing doesn’t mean destroyed, right? We still have a chance, don’t we?"

Amberser silently watched his senior brother for a long time before saying, "Hmm, you’re right."

Mr. Misfortune, as if not hearing Amberser’s words, kept muttering to himself, "There must be a chance, there must be a way. We can use spatial magic to transfer these Gates of Hell to another place, then prepare to deal with Laine’s army. As long as we all try, we can definitely..."

Amberser said no more, letting Mr. Misfortune continue to "figure out a way."

After babbling for a while, Mr. Misfortune also fell into silence, slumping into a chair in despair, and said to Amberser, "There’s no hope left for us, is there?"

Amberser nodded and said, "You can’t play word games with a devil, Tiamat knows how many contracts she’s signed with others, she wouldn’t leave such a loophole for us to exploit. Protecting the Gates of Hell means ensuring they function properly, transferring, hiding, or whatsoever, all violate the contract, and have no meaning."

"Uradimir, you need to make a decision. If you give up, then leave with me; this kingdom will fall into Hell. If you want to persist, then you need to find another way to stop Laine’s assault, you can’t rely on the Impure Chant’s army anymore. After the nobility vanish, the kingdom will collapse instantly."

Nobles, though hated, have controlled all the resources of the kingdom for years, with nearly all military commanders being of noble birth, and very few commoners reach high ranks.

Without these leaders, Tiflin can only be pleased for a few seconds before descending into chaos.

The scramble for resources, for power, past grudges... everything would explode in an instant, and the kingdom would crumble in a short period, unless a formidable hero emerged, one with both status and capability to stabilize the kingdom quickly.

But even if Arthur Laine were reborn, it’d probably take over a year to stabilize the kingdom.

Well, even if Mr. Misfortune had a fraction of Arthur Laine’s abilities, time was not on his side.

Laine was waiting at the border; who would give you a year?

With Laine’s Paladin Legion charging into the chaotic Kingdom of Impure Hymns, it would take less than two months to conquer the entire region.

How could Mr. Misfortune alone withstand the onslaught of Laine’s army, especially with Amberser gone? It was essentially a futile effort.

This wasn’t a legendary one-on-one duel where Amberser could kite his opponent at long range. This was a war that could annihilate a nation. Just the magic from Laine’s legion could strike targets several kilometers away. The moment Amberser would show his face, he would be vaporized.

An army can only be confronted by another army. The combined strength of mortals can slay even gods.

Moreover, Amberser had a premonition that Tiamat was not simply after the souls of the Tiflins. There might be other plans in the works, but that was truly beyond knowing now.

Amberser was already preparing to leave. The Kingdom of Impure Hymns was a lost cause, and it would be better to escape quickly, perhaps taking advantage of the chaos to loot the kingdom’s treasury or something.

Mr. Misfortune had been overly agitated earlier, deluding himself. Now that he had calmed down, he too could see that dire future.

The kingdom’s destruction seemed inevitable. Mr. Misfortune was like an insect caught in a spider’s web; the more he struggled, the more desperate he became. It would be better to leave now while he was still marginally involved.

Amberser did not rush him, only leaving behind a magic mirror for Mr. Misfortune.

"Keep this with you. When you need it, come find me."

After leaving that final message, Amberser left.

Although the kingdom was doomed, Amberser still decided to give one last push.

Wasn’t Laine’s Flow Flame City still unscathed? Let him start a fire there. Perhaps it would reduce Laine’s strength when he launched his invasion.

Mr. Misfortune watched Amberser leave, then looked around.

This Red River Town was once a place where he had lived. In the span of centuries, it had become so unfamiliar, just like his motherland.

When did the Impure Chant begin to plunge into crisis and collapse? For centuries he had been doing well, and the kingdom had been on the rise.

Had all its prosperity been nothing but a dark cloth covering a conspiracy from the start?

Why hadn’t he seen it coming? Why, as a diviner mage, had he not foreseen even this?

"Could it be that I’ve really been forsaken by the Goddess of Fate?"

That thought emerged in Mr. Misfortune’s mind, but suddenly he shivered all over.

"No, Arthas was right; I’ve relied too much on the power of fate. Though I’ve traveled further down this path than he, I’ve lost the ability to think, as a person should. If I hadn’t used the power of fate, I should have been able to notice all the clues long ago. It was I who blinded myself!"

Mr. Misfortune suddenly felt a deep regret. If he had not quarreled with that loathsome bastard years ago but instead joined him on adventures across the continent, could he have saved his homeland now?

Mr. Misfortune stood up, clenched his fist, and said, "Even though all hope seems lost, I cannot give up. There must be something I can still do!"