This Lich Requests More Remuneration
Chapter 595 - 529 Deadly Crisis

Chapter 595: Chapter 529 Deadly Crisis

When Amberser mentioned restarting the negotiation, both Mammon and Zariel felt as if they had turned into glass, then shattered with a gentle tap.

Zariel was the first to lose his composure, roaring, "I want you dead! I will pull out your soul, grind it into dust, and stuff it into the backside of a Hell Worm!"

The enraged fallen angel reached out once more, grasping at the magic mirror in front of him, his hand still ablaze with intense flames.

But the moment Zariel touched the magic mirror, the surface began to melt, the glass shattered, and the metal frame started to liquify.

And until the magic mirror was completely destroyed, Zariel hadn’t been able to fish Amberser’s soul out of it.

Mammon let out a shriek. If the magic mirror was destroyed, wouldn’t all their investments be lost?!

"Idiot, waste of space! He was provoking you on purpose, can’t you see that?!" Mammon, not fearing the scalding heat, grabbed the molten metal, attempting to repair the mirror, but then realized he didn’t even understand the workings of the magic mirror and had no idea how to proceed.

Millions upon millions of Soul Currency had been poured into it, millions!

This thing was far more valuable than Gold Coins. Every inch of Mammon’s flesh quivered in pain now.

Mammon’s body glowed red hot as it inflated to ten, dozens of meters in size, his demonic form swollen and terrifying with spikes and claws covering his entire body. He roared in a voice amplified by several echoes, "Damn you, Zariel, if we can’t get it back, I will fight you to the death!"

Zariel was also mad with rage, flames roaring around him. Right now, he just wanted to fight someone, and it didn’t matter who.

However, it appeared that both had forgotten that there wasn’t just one magic mirror in the residence.

In a corner, Amberser’s figure appeared on the surface of a mirror, watching as the two Hell Lords, inflated to a hundred meters tall, tumbled into a heap. Yet there was no hint of triumph on his face.

Because the trouble in Hell was never the biggest problem.

As Amberser’s image slowly faded, the Divine Realm of the God of Alchemy displayed a large magic mirror reflecting Amberser’s form.

Amberser greeted the anxious-looking God of Alchemy.

"Teacher, thanks."

Seeing Amberser, the God of Alchemy finally relaxed and said with relief, "You actually did it. You’re truly a genius, my boy."

Amberser replied, "It’s not that simple. For now, it’s only... half a success, I would say."

"Half?"

"Yes, temporarily speaking, everything has been very successful. I used the properties of the magic mirror to turn myself into the Instrument Spirit of all magic mirrors, a state akin to an undead possession, allowing me to traverse any plane. And since the true core of the magic mirror is in your Divine Realm, the destruction of mirrors in other planes has no effect on me. It’s a life-saving measure even more useful than the Life Casket."

"Although my spell casting ability is slightly limited, it’s much better than I expected. The power of the Golden Throne has fused with the Magic Mirror, and I can still use gold as a material to cast spells, and even retain the ability to create Pseudo-Souls..."

The God of Alchemy said doubtfully, "This all sounds like good news, but you’re about to say ’but,’ aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve seen some unfavorable future again."

Amberser said with a smile, "It’s not something I’ve foreseen. I’ve already died once, so even if the Goddess of Fate really wants to kick me again, she’d have to flirt with me a bit first. But you’re right, teacher, I’m going to start saying ’but,’ and the problem is quite serious."

Amberser’s expression turned very serious as he explained to the God of Alchemy, "My cognitive abilities are rapidly dissipating. I underestimated the impact of becoming an Instrument Spirit on myself; it’s even more terrifying than an Undead losing its obsessions. Soon I will be reduced to mere ’functionality,’ completely losing all desire and autonomy, and become the core of the Magic Mirror, merely an upgrade part for this Divine Artifact."

"How could this happen?" The God of Alchemy also showed a look of surprise.

"It makes sense. The ability to think for oneself essentially comes from need. Curiosity, empathy, greed, and various other desires; driven by these, we generate corresponding thoughts. When turning into an Undead, I also need the most basic desires to maintain my own thinking. Most Zombies and Skeletons lack the ability to think, spending their time lying down or sleeping precisely because they lack desires. Most specters also cannot think completely and can only maintain their form by constantly recalling their deepest hatred, but that hatred is all they have.

"I thought that being an Instrument Spirit wouldn’t be much different from being a Specter since I saw Arthur Lane maintain his self for over a thousand years as an Instrument Spirit. But in reality, I underestimated the influence of the Magic Mirror on me. Teacher, the few desires I have left are fading, and naturally, as I need nothing, my ability to think will also fade. Arthur managed to endure for over a thousand years, but I estimate I can last at most two days."

Amberser felt truly helpless, aware that his willpower had always been somewhat lacking; otherwise, he would not have been so easily brought to despair by fate. But he thought that as someone of several hundred years old, his willpower shouldn’t be too much less than Arthur’s.

However, the Holy King’s will was so strong that it seemed no different from that of an ordinary person. This caused Amberser to make a misjudgment, unable to comprehend how terrifying the struggle against the ’void’ is.

Now, as Amberser directly faced this ’void,’ his will immediately collapsed, being steadily dragged into The Abyss without the slightest resistance.

The God of Alchemy asked, "Do you have a backup plan?"

Normally, Amberser would now reveal an elaborate plan, aiming to exploit a few more unfortunate souls in a few days, then solve his own problem and achieve a complete rebirth.

However, Amberser just bitterly smiled and said, "This time... I really don’t have a backup plan."

The God of Alchemy was stunned, thinking he had misheard, and quickly asked, "This isn’t the time for jokes, lad. Are you hiding something even from me?"

"Honestly, there is none, teacher. The fact that I can still talk to you might already be the last favor the Goddess of Fate has granted me. I just tried to do business with those Hell Lords, but their agitated stomping means nothing to me; I don’t even have the inclination to calculate how much money I could make from them."

Amberser spoke in an even tone, but the God of Alchemy understood that this calmness itself was the issue at hand.

His poor student wasn’t even afraid of death anymore.

That is to say, Amberser wasn’t going to think hard out of fear to avoid such an end; he was calmly accepting this transformation.

The God of Alchemy snorted and then said, "When it comes to the crucial moment, it’s still up to me, your teacher, eh."

But after saying that, the God of Alchemy disappeared.

Watching his teacher leave, Amberser managed to squeeze out a faint smile, but soon returned to calmness, with emotional fluctuations becoming increasingly hard to sustain.