Chapter 297: Training the Drow
It took Ambrose quite a while to make his way back from the Umbral Depths.
With teleportation available, long-distance travel didn't feel like much of a hassle. Now that he was restricted from using it, he was reminded just how inconvenient travel really was.
After finally returning home, the first thing he saw was Catherine sitting at the dungeon entrance, hugging her knees and burying her head between them.
The posture looked strangely familiar.
Ah—Ambrose realized where he'd last seen it. When Milena had been mocked as an idiot, she'd sat in bed in exactly the same way.
Ambrose raised a brow. "What's this? I was only gone for a short while. How have you already gotten so depressed?"
Catherine lifted her head. Her eyes were red, and she had clearly been crying.
"They... they lied to me..."
Catherine explained everything as she wiped away her tears.
At first, she had been full of confidence, determined to earn the drow's loyalty. Her approach was simple: let them rest, feed them well, and then speak to them one by one, heart to heart.
At the beginning, things went well. The drow gradually lowered their guard and opened up, sharing their tragic pasts.
Catherine had been deeply moved. From birth, every drow child was given a small spider to raise, a companion that grew up alongside them. But as soon as they learned to speak, they were forced to study cruel spells. And once they mastered those spells, their very first act was to kill the spider they had raised with their own hands.
It was a ritual designed to strip away compassion and love from the very beginning.
After that came harsh training in assassination, poisoning, infiltration, and interrogation, each lesson grinding away what little humanity remained. By adulthood, they would be sent to the surface to hunt and sacrifice a high elf to the Spider Queen, thereby completing their transformation into true drow matriarchs.
The captives that Black Rose had sent were still minors, but years of torment had already turned them into ruthless creatures devoid of humanity.
When Catherine spoke with them, they had resisted at first. But under her sincere efforts, they eventually opened their hearts. Some even cried with her, embracing her as they shared their pain.
After that catharsis, the suspicion and vigilance in their expressions faded. Smiles began to appear.
Catherine believed she had succeeded. She kept the five drow who had grown closest to her by her side. They ate, slept, and lived together.
Then, the moment she let her guard down, she was stabbed.
Even legends only had bodies of flesh and blood. Wearing only a nightgown, Catherine's body could not stop the blade.
Perhaps her charm had played a role: the attack hadn't been aimed at her vitals. It left her gravely wounded, but alive.
Those five drow, all of whom had been freed from their soul restraints by Ambrose, then took her hostage and attempted to escape from the dungeon.
They almost succeeded.
The undead guards along the way did not stop them and instead allowed them to reach the dungeon's exit.
Then, they triggered a magical trap.
Ambrose had prepared it long ago. He had expected trouble from the drow, so he had casually set up a stasis trap ahead of time.
All of them were immobilized instantly. Then, his two undead guards, Bear and Husky, emerged from hiding. They carried the injured Catherine aside and fed her a healing potion, then captured the fleeing drow and locked them up.
Catherine had suffered a heavy blow, not physically but rather mentally.
They had shared all their secrets. She had promised them a better life. Why had they still betrayed her?
She couldn't understand. Why would they risk death to escape, rather than stay with her?
After hearing her out, Ambrose asked, puzzled, "Why would you assume what they said was true? Catherine, they're drow."
Catherine lowered her head in shame, burying it back between her knees.
Ambrose walked over and patted her head. "Don't take it too hard. Being deceived isn't your fault, but rather the deceiver's. Now you understand what drow are like. Until you truly understand them, put away your kindness. Come on, let's deal with those escapees."
Catherine looked up, anxious. "What are you going to do to them?"
"What? Still thinking of letting them go?" Ambrose asked.
She hesitated. She had wanted to plead for mercy, but the words died on her lips. "...No. I'll leave it to you."
She knew now that she didn't have the ability to reform the drow on her own.
In that case, she would follow Ambrose's lead. As for those drow... she remembered their heartfelt conversations, as well as the blade they drove into her body.
Since they had chosen betrayal, she would not plead for them any longer.
Ambrose nodded, pleased. "Good. You're improving. Don't worry, I'm not planning to kill them."
"What? Why? That doesn't sound like you at all."
Catherine could not believe that Ambrose would let them go just like that. He was a ruthless lich who even dared to attack gods.
"Killing should be meaningful. I never indulge in meaningless slaughter or purposeless cruelty. I treat all life with equal respect."
He made that remark with solemn conviction. After all, it was one of the core realizations he had gained after becoming a lich.
To him, life was no longer about morality, but value. Meaningless slaughter was wasteful. Instead, he wanted to extract as much value out of others' lives as he could.
As for these five drow, their betrayal had always been part of his plan. With only twenty in total, killing five outright would be a waste.
Besides, drow slaves were extremely valuable.
He brought Catherine to the dungeon cells. The five drow were chained to iron crosses, bruised and battered. They had clearly been disciplined.
Ambrose frowned. "Those two idiots... why did they hit their faces?"
Catherine thought he was sympathizing with the drow until he added, "Damaged goods don't sell for a good price."
She stared at him. "You're going to sell them?"
"Of course. What else are they good for? Plenty of nobles would love a drow as a family treasure. Maybe they'll even produce a half-elf and improve their bloodline."
"You can't do that! That's worse than killing them!" Catherine couldn't accept such a cruel reality. Just the thought of the torture they would suffer at the nobles' hands...
Yet before she could finish, the drow shouted desperately, "No, don't kill us! We'll be slaves! Sell us to anyone you want, but let us live!"
Catherine froze in disbelief.
Ambrose chuckled. "You still don't understand them. To a drow, chastity means nothing. As long as they live, humiliation doesn't matter. As long as they're alive, there's always a chance to escape. That's why betrayal comes so easily to them."
Catherine was speechless. Her understanding of "good" was completely different to theirs.
What she thought best for the drow was clearly different from what they thought best for themselves. Was this difference in judgment why they had betrayed her?
As Catherine fell into deep thought, Ambrose turned to the five drow and said, "Catherine is kind-hearted and can't stand to see you suffer. But I also know that her mercy means nothing to you. Every drow is born ambitious. So, I'll offer you another choice."
His words left the five drow puzzled. This lich was clearly far more formidable than that naïve elf, and they had no reason to expect anything good from him.
Ambrose paid no attention to their doubts and continued, "I know you want freedom, so let's make a deal. I still have fifteen drow under my command, and there will only be more in the future. I'll place them under your leadership. Your task is simple: assist Catherine and make those drow willing to obey her."
He spoke calmly, as if stating a simple fact. "So long as you can persuade one hundred drow to willingly follow Catherine, I'll let you go free. I swear this in the name of the God of Alchemy. If you agree, I'll place a magical mark on you. Fulfill the terms, and I'll let you go."
"Of course, you may choose the second option: death," he added lightly. "I'll kill you now."
Without hesitation, all five drow chose to sign the contract with Ambrose. Each of them was assigned three subordinates, splitting the twenty drow into five groups.
Ambrose gave them enough time to confer among themselves, then pulled Catherine aside and said quietly, "I'm leaving these drow to you. Your only task is this: no matter what they say, respond ambiguously. Don't agree, don't argue. Just observe. Record everything they say and do, down to the smallest detail. Understood?"
Catherine frowned slightly. "I can do that. But why let the drow manage themselves? If they band together, wouldn't that make them more dangerous?"
Ambrose wanted to remind Catherine that her fate was to work herself to tears for him, and that she wouldn't be allowed to die before that, but he held his tongue. Doing so would only make her angry.
Instead, he said, "Because drow understand drow best. Their society already runs on a hierarchy. Only they know how to make their own kind submit. Your job is to learn that method and record it. As for danger..." He glanced at her with a faint smirk. "What, was one stab too scary for you?"
Catherine straightened, her expression resolute. "Of course not. This is a task entrusted to me by the gods. I won't be careless again."
"Good. Then I'll leave it to you."
With that, Ambrose returned to his laboratory, pulled out a sheet of parchment, and began considering how to write to James Watson.
After a moment's thought, he decided to start with the matter of the two hundred thousand gold that Allen owed him.
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