Chapter 292: The Deal is Struck
The evil inherent to the drow was not merely a matter of culture or upbringing—it was written into their very nature. Humans were born with two hands and two feet; how could you possibly turn such a species into something with seven arms and eight legs?
The only solution Ambrose could think of was total annihilation: kill every drow, then painstakingly reshape each soul, chiseling away their malice and weaving in threads of kindness instead.
But this could not be what the elven gods desired.
In truth, killing the Spider Queen wouldn't have been difficult for Choralan. His divine power far surpassed hers. He had personally exiled the drow, and if he had been just a little more ruthless back then, he could have wiped them out entirely.
Instead, in a fit of anger, Choralan chose to exile the drow for eternity.
If slaughter had been an option, Choralan would have done it himself. There would be no need to involve Ambrose.
The elven gods had never intended to exterminate the drow. To Choralan, they were like unruly children who, after their parents' divorce, followed their unfaithful mother and even fought over the house deed.
He was furious, but they were still his children.
The problem was that they had followed their vicious mother for far too long. Even Choralan himself could not make them repent.
Though he was the chief god of the elven pantheon, Choralan could not reshape the mindset of an entire race. Gods were powerful, but not omnipotent.
So how could Ambrose do what even a deity couldn't?
What a joke. If he had the ability to twist the minds of an entire race, why would he fear divine retaliation at all?
He could simply reshape every intelligent species into his own believers and become second only to Aion. Even Choralan and the Lord of Dawn combined would fall to one swing of his hand, at that rate.
This deal clearly wasn't practical. He might as well sell the divine domain to another god instead. Perhaps he could speak with the Lord of Dawn—darkness held no use for him, but destroying it would "bring more light into the world." With a bit of moral pressure, he might even earn a blessing.
Seeing that Ambrose truly intended to refuse, Catherine grew anxious.
"Is there really no way? We've adventured together for so long. Won't you help me this once, please? Even the Creator knows how difficult this is. But if you agree, the elves can immediately resolve the trouble with those four goddesses for you. And this isn't a task you have to accomplish in a day or two—ten years, a hundred years, that's well within reason."
Her soft plea made Ambrose's resolve waver.
Damn it. Her charm had grown stronger. Even her voice alone could enchant the soul.
Still, Ambrose wasn't so easily swayed. He shut down his senses and forced himself to think with absolute clarity.
With no time limit and payment delivered upfront, the deal sounded good in theory. But the task itself was absurdly difficult. He couldn't think of a single viable method to proceed.
The drow might be exiles, but they were still elves. Charm effects barely worked on them. Magic wouldn't be enough to twist their minds.
If magic wouldn't work, what then? Violence? Capture them all and whip them daily until they "behaved"?
Would forcing them to act like good people really count as redemption?
Ambrose pondered the issue for a long period of time. A full two hours passed before he finally spoke again. "What exactly do you mean by ‘making the drow turn good'? Be specific. What standards are we talking about?"
Catherine brightened immediately. He had changed his mind. "It's simple. The main issue right now is that I can't merge with the drow's divine domain. If I can gain a certain number of followers among the drow, I'll be able to fuse with it and reintegrate them into elven society."
"Sounds simple, but it's not. For a mortal to gain faith without merging with a divine domain is almost impossible... though if it's you, there might be a chance."
Only then did Ambrose understand why the elven gods favored Catherine so much. Her pure soul and incredible natural charm meant that even undead were drawn to her. And if even the undead could be moved, then there was a chance that the drow might be as well.
The elven gods must have long planned to reclaim the drow. Catherine was the key they had cultivated over many years. The drow's divine domain would merely serve as a helping hand.
No wonder the gods had been so generous, and even willing to pay in advance.
"If it's just faith, that might be doable," Ambrose said. "But the drow would probably only worship your beauty. They wouldn't become genuinely good people. Would that count?"
Catherine shook her head firmly. "No. They must truly change their way of thinking. Otherwise, it's meaningless. If I merge with the domain under those conditions, they'll quickly go extinct. At least half of all drow must believe in me, preferably more. Otherwise, there's no point."
"In that case, I'll take my leave..." Ambrose immediately tried to back out again. Half the drow? That was impossible.
Though Black Rose had conquered vast stretches of the Umbral Depths, the drow had barely changed. They had merely become slaves of the undead under coercion.
"Please, think of something. I truly believe you can do anything," Catherine pleaded.
"It's not about whether I want to help. This is simply impossible. I can't deceive the elven gods. I already have enough enemies, and I certainly don't need more divine ones."
"Why not? I'm not asking you to make them like me. Making them like you would be enough."
Ambrose paused mid-step. "Like me? What does that even mean?"
It sounded like mockery, but Catherine clearly didn't mean it that way.
"I mean reasonable. Maybe a little greedy, but not cruel or sadistic. If they can become like you, the elves will accept them back."
Ambrose almost laughed. Cruelty and ruthlessness suited a lich like him just fine.
When he experimented on drow, he had shown them no mercy whatsoever.
Still, Catherine wasn't entirely wrong. Ambrose did not kill for the sake of killing. He didn't enjoy torment, nor did he harm others out of boredom.
Undead were like that. Their actions revolved around their obsessions.
As long as those obsessions weren't rooted purely in slaughter, intelligent undead were actually quite reasonable. The real issue was widespread prejudice, which inevitably led to conflict with the living.
That behavioral logic had a name—order.
Undead followed rules. They might tend toward evil, yes, but structured evil.
Turning the drow into good people might be impossible. But turning them from chaotic evil into lawful evil... that might actually be feasible.
The Spider Queen's influence had shaped them. But now that she could no longer interfere, there might be room to act.
"Is there really no time limit?" Ambrose asked.
"No immediate deadline," Catherine said cautiously. "But don't even think about deceiving me. You said it yourself: the elven gods aren't ones you can afford to offend."
She truly didn't want to receive a divine command to kill her friend one day.
"Relax. I'm not a fool. Deceiving gods is something I never do."
Catherine: "..."
Ambrose, however, saw no contradiction in what he said. He had never deceived any god. He had completed Shara's task perfectly. He had rejected Levitra outright, never having agreed to serve her.
As for the God of Alchemy... it was hard to say who had deceived whom.
So he could proudly declare, "I have never deceived a single god."
"Deal," Ambrose said. "I'll do my best to complete this task. But I'll need your full cooperation."
"Of course," Catherine replied with relief. "I'll help however I can." Ambrose carried out his promises without fail. She had succeeded in teasing out a promise from him.
Ambrose handed over the drow divine domain. Catherine immediately knelt and prayed.
A beam of light pierced through the ceiling and descended before her. The small box containing the domain dissolved into the radiance, and a faint rune appeared on her wrist.
"Another blessing?" Ambrose asked, surprised.
"How did you know?" Catherine blinked.
"Lucky guess." He could barely conceal his envy.
Catherine smiled. "It's not what you think. It just allows me to sense the emotions of all beings with elven blood."
A racial version of mind-reading, then...
Ambrose knew the spell himself, but it was far from reliable. Strong-willed or intelligent targets often resisted it. Even for a legendary caster like him, probing a paladin's mind had a failure rate of over seventy percent.
But Catherine's ability, limited to elves, was absolute. That was the authority of a racial god: just as it could render all elves immune to charm, it could also make them unable to resist her perception.
With that, the deal was half complete. For now, Ambrose no longer had to worry about the four evil goddesses, unless they wanted to go to war with the elves.
Catherine was equally thrilled. "So what do we do next? Head into the Umbral Depths to find the drow?"
Ambrose chuckled. "No need to rush. Before reclaiming the drow, we need to make some preparations."
Catherine blinked. "What kind of preparations?"
Ambrose patted her shoulder. "First, we'll make you into a proper leader. Catherine, come with me. I'll teach you how to become a true queen."
Comments