Chapter 475: What the Future May Hold

Ambrose was startled by his own speculation.

He couldn't afford such a revelation right now. He'd just secured an excellent position and was looking forward to counting his gold until his bones ached. If the Lord of Dawn went up against the dragon gods again, everything would spiral completely out of control.

Ambrose couldn't even pick a side to bet on. He was naturally hostile to the Lord of Dawn by attribute alone, and as for the dragon gods... well, given what he'd just done overseas, it was practically a miracle of Aion's discipline that they hadn't already crushed him.

Black Rose was equally startled by Ambrose's speculation. If the Lord of Dawn really did make a move, could she even destroy Lyon?

Both of them were worried, but Ambrose recovered faster. He comforted Black Rose. "I think I might be overthinking this. Something major is bound to happen once the wager concludes, but the situation doesn't look that severe yet."

Black Rose wasn't so optimistic. "But it's only a matter of time. Even if the Dragon Tyrant hasn't won yet, that victory isn't far off."

"You're right. In that case, let me take this opportunity to confirm in person just how far that Dragon Tyrant's revival has progressed."

Black Rose, recalling Ambrose's understanding of souls, asked, "Can't you tell through the mirror?"

"No. I need to meet him face to face."

What the magic mirror transmitted was only an image. Ambrose's senses might be able to distinguish variations of color from it, but certainly not the fluctuations of a soul.

If he could make direct contact, Ambrose was confident he could sense any abnormality in the other party's soul.

"It's too dangerous! If the Dragon Tyrant really has revived, you might not make it back to your phylactery in time to be reborn."

The power of time was immense. The Dragon Tyrant of that era must have truly been capable of killing liches, or the undead wouldn't have ended up within his domain of subjugation too.

No one knew how much power the current dragon possessed, and what Ambrose was proposing was very risky.

"Don't worry, I won't die this time around. Setting aside my own abilities, before this meeting, I'll inform everyone, including the gods."

Ambrose certainly wasn't foolish enough to meet the emperor of Lyon alone. Who knew if Lyon had a means of nullifying the protection of his phylactery?

Not only would he bring a whole entourage to make a show of it, he'd also notify every deity involved with him.

The God of Alchemy would surely protect him. Thanos couldn't bear to lose Ambrose now. The two Archduchesses of Hell, waiting on Ambrose's advance payments to run their banking scheme, wouldn't want him dead either.

With so many gods watching, even the mighty Dragon Tyrant would have to think twice about the consequences.

Owe someone a few thousand gold, and you might get killed at any moment; owe the state millions, and you might get thrown straight into prison; but owe the gods countless amusements and hundreds of millions in soul-coins, and they'll make sure you stay alive.

Such was human nature, for the mortal and the divine alike.

Black Rose said firmly, "Then I'm coming with you."

"Lady Rose, I can only guarantee my own safety. I might not be able to protect you too."

Ambrose was worried that Black Rose might lose control of her emotions once there. An undead gone mad would be left with no trace of reason.

"You're willing to risk yourself for my sake. How could I let you go alone? If you're worried, I'll call Alabastra and Gareth to come along. With the full force of the Elegiac Society, we won't be afraid of anything Lyon tries."

Black Rose was utterly resolute. This time, there was no way she'd let Ambrose go by himself.

And Ambrose himself could hardly object. Black Rose was the queen of the Umbral Depths. Once she'd made up her mind, no one could stop her.

"In that case, let's just make it as big a spectacle as possible. I'll try to invite everyone along. Unless Lyon wants to start a world war, they won't dare act recklessly."

"Everyone?" Black Rose asked. "You mean the elves?"

"Not just the elves, but also the druids, the dwarves, the Ragetide Kingdom, and representatives from the overseas dragons and the marine races too. If we're going to probe Lyon's true strength, we need to bring out the heaviest of hammers, or it won't even be able to make a thud."

If the undead were the sole party meeting with Lyon, it was likely that violence would ensue. Regardless of who was to win, there would certainly be losses on both sides.

Even if the Elegiac Society dealt Lyon a heavy blow, some of them would probably be sacrificed in the process.

Ambrose couldn't bear to lose a single friend from the Elegiac Society—even Heki Stone, whom Ambrose still wanted to keep squeezing for free labor.

The simplest way to keep the table from getting overturned was to make the table bigger. With enough weight, not even Thanos would be able to flip it.

Black Rose frowned, "What reason will you use to gather all these people? Lyon's name alone won't be enough."

Lyon had offended too many parties by now. Ambrose needed to find a justification everyone could accept, or the other kingdoms would have no reason to send envoys.

"I haven't thought of one yet, but that's not a big problem. We can stall for time."

"How do you plan to stall? Lyon is anxious for your weapons, and the war won't wait."

"Simple: just weaken the orcs. I'll find some excuse to recall the airships stationed with the orcs. Without eyes in the sky, the orcs won't dare cross the Emerald River to attack. They're not ready for a decisive battle yet anyway."

Such was the power of the world's greatest arms dealer, able to sway the course of a war at will. That said, the orcs would certainly be unhappy about it. Ambrose would need to think of some way to compensate them, at least enough to save face, since he couldn't afford to alienate a client just because he held a monopoly.

"What a headache. I need to go think through the details. Lady Rose, I'll leave the gathering of the Elegiac Society to you."

What had started as a small matter had inadvertently snowballed into something much bigger.

But while Ambrose wrestled with his own troubles, things weren't going much better on Lyon's end.

When Angus Watson reported up the chain that the lich was requesting a meeting with the emperor, the young emperor felt a headache coming on.

Ah, but he was no longer the young emperor. He was Lyon's sole and final sovereign, Atros.

But that name couldn't be revealed to others just yet.

Atros lounged on the throne, his long hair concealing the right eye that had turned into a dragon's.

The urgent missive in his hand made Atros frown. He hadn't expected the lich to request a meeting with him personally.

Truthfully, Atros didn't want to see him.

It wasn't that he feared the lich might be crazy enough to assassinate the Emperor of Lyon. Rather, this lich was simply too uncanny.

What kind of lich could be friends with a paladin? Even back when the races had united in rebellion, the undead had still been viewed with deep suspicion. Only Arthur Lyon had ever truly trusted the undead.

Lyon had spent seventeen centuries civilizing its people. Even under that kind of upbringing, Allen had still ended up befriending the lich.

And it wasn't just Allen. Atros knew that plenty of others within the kingdom were cooperating with this lich too.

Setting Lyon aside, this lich's circle of partners ran even wider than that.

In the past, Arthur Lyon had united the races through compassion and justice. Today, this lich was uniting the races through profit. Different methods gave rise to the same effect.

Atros didn't dare underestimate this lich one bit. He treated him with the same caution he'd reserve for Arthur Lyon himself.

Meeting with someone like that was simply too risky. If his identity were discovered, it would be a disaster. Atros couldn't afford to make an enemy of the entire world right now.

But could he simply refuse to meet him?

Abandoning the deal would mean Lyon would lose its chance to upgrade its arsenal.

The weapons this lich created could define the entire era. Without them, Lyon would be like a man going up against a dragon bare-handed. Without divine favor, there'd be no chance of winning.

If the dragons had faced weapons like these back in the day, they would have lost even more quickly.

Though Atros originated from the Dragon Tyrant, he wasn't truly the Dragon Tyrant reborn. Death was equal for all beings. The Dragon Tyrant was dead, and Atros was, at best, half a descendant and successor.

Born into this era, one had to adapt to it.

The dragons had declined, and even the power of a time dragon wasn't invincible. He needed to get his hands on these weapons.

He needed them at any cost.

"Is meeting this lich really the only option? How do I keep him from getting suspicious? Should I play the fool?"

The young emperor's prior behavior was widely known. Perhaps playing dumb could buy some cover.

"If it's just communicating through the magic mirror, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. Let me think back on how that idiot used to act..."

As he reminisced, Atros suddenly furrowed his brow as a sharp pain surged through him, making him crush the armrest of the throne without meaning to.

"Liar! Give my body back!"

"I'll kill you! I'll dice you into a million pieces!"

......

Shrill wails echoed through Atros's soul, making him even more uncomfortable.

These were the lingering resentments of the young emperor. Even though that soul had already been assimilated and merged into Atros's, leaving only fragments behind, those fragments that remained were like shards of glass.

Atros had to endure the agony of having glass shards mixed into his soul just to think clearly. And every time something reminded him of the young emperor, that sharp pain would intensify.

All Atros could do was fast-forward time slightly whenever the pain struck, to shorten how long he had to endure it.

Brows furrowed, he racked his brain for some way to deal with this lich.

"I hear this lich is extremely greedy for gold. Would simply bribing him work?"

Lyon's treasury was reasonably full these days, and pulling out funds wouldn't be difficult. Could throwing a few tens of millions of gold at him turn the lich into his personal tool?

Just as he was mulling this over, an attendant nervously entered and reported to Atros, "Your Majesty, Allen Watson is here again."

Atros's frown deepened. "What does he want this time?"

"The same request as before, Your Majesty. Allen Watson wants to go to the front lines and fight the orcs alongside his older brother."

This wasn't the first time Allen had applied to go to the front. Atros simply hadn't allowed it so far.

Allen's status was too unusual, and entirely unlike Angus Watson's. Letting Allen go to the battlefield and rack up more accomplishments would cause him to start to overshadow the emperor himself.

Allen knew his brother's temper well. If he went to the battlefield without permission, Angus would never allow him to fight. He might even kill him outright.

No one could break military discipline, not even the commander's younger brother.

So Allen could only keep submitting petitions.

Atros broke into a smile. "Tell Allen I have another important task for him, one no less significant than going to the front. For Lyon's sake, he must see it through."

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