Chapter 83: Soul Surgery

Ambrose had no desire to fight James Watson right now.

A full paladin legion was no joke. Even with Black Rose backing him, a battle on that scale would be earth-shattering. It'd take at least three days before a victor could be decided.

Clashing with this bunch of paladins would be a loss, no matter how you looked at it. It would be a meaningless fight, and perhaps even one that Ambrose couldn't win.

"The Lyon Empire has brought an entire paladin legion. A frontal confrontation does us no good. We'll hide in the sewers for now."

Ambrose's proposal was perfectly reasonable, entirely logical, and in their best interests Yet Black Rose replied calmly, "If they're determined to die, how could I possibly refuse them?"

Ambrose's soulfire flickered. He wanted to dissuade Black Rose, but ultimately swallowed his words.

The zealots of the Lyon Empire charged screaming the moment they saw undead. Black Rose was another sort of lunatic herself, guaranteed to lose her composure when facing the Lyon Empire.

Ambrose suddenly turned to Gary Watts. "How many magical automata does Alkhemia still have? Can you control all of them?"

"As a safety precaution, the magical automata do not obey a master control unit. If necessary, though, I can build one readily."

"Right now?" Ambrose asked in surprise.

Gary Watts replied confidently, "Yes. It won't take much time."

Ambrose immediately nodded. "Let's get started. Transfer control of all the automata to Lady Rose, and I'll help you realize your dream."

"Deal."

Gary Watts agreed without the slightest hesitation.

Black Rose glanced at Ambrose in surprise. "You're giving me control over all of Alkhemia's magical automata?"

Ambrose nodded. "Consider it my fee for your help. We still have bigger business to discuss in the future, and I can't afford for you to suffer any losses."

Black Rose smiled at him. "You forget that I'm a lich, and... Never mind. I understand what you mean."

Ambrose: ???

Just what had Black Rose purported to comprehend from this situation?

Ambrose genuinely didn't want anything to happen to his biggest patron to date. She might not die as long as her phylactery remained intact, but if her body were damaged, wouldn't that affect her rule in the Umbral Depths? If his wealthy client's influence were to decline, their fledgling cooperation might collapse altogether.

But judging from Black Rose's expression, she had come to a different conclusion entirely.

There was no time to clarify matters. By the time their brief exchange concluded, Gary Watts had already finished the control unit.

Using it was absurdly simple. As long as you held it, you could issue voice commands that would be instantly synchronized to every automaton in Alkhemia.

Who knew how many backdoors Gary Watts had left within Alkhemia's automata?

Black Rose cast Ambrose a meaningful look, then led her guards down from the tower.

Only then did Ambrose turn to Gary Watts. "Come. We'll be heading for the sewers. I will help you fulfill your wish there."

Gary Watts was about to carry the unconscious Naomi with him when Ambrose stopped him. "No need. You won't need that girl. Bringing her would only be a waste of time."

Gary Watts frowned. He began sternly, "She is the most crucial part of the experiment. My soul still does not suffice for apotheosis."

"I can help you. I'm an expert when it comes to souls, remember?"

Ambrose's words made Gary Watts hesitate.

Reason told him that sticking to his own plan was the safest option. Yet when he looked again at the unconscious Naomi, a sudden sense of pity welled up within him.

His humanity had not yet fully faded from his soul. He did pity Naomi.

And yet, precisely because of that lingering humanity, he needed to sacrifice Naomi to force his soul to transform.

Before, Gary Watts was certain that this was the only solution. He had convinced himself that Naomi had to die. But with Ambrose now offering a second possibility, the humanity he had long suppressed suddenly found something to cling to. It began to influence a soul that tried to be perfectly rational.

Gary Watts felt as though he were about to develop a split personality.

His translucent body flickered violently. It took long moments before he calmed down again.

"You nearly destroyed my will," Gary Watts snarled, anger twisting his face. "You had better be telling the truth."

"Of course. I wouldn't give up an artifact just for a druid. Come on. We don't have much time."

Gary Watts reopened the sealed window while Ambrose cast Flight on himself. The two drifted out, heading toward the sewers at top speed.

Just as they left the tower, Black Rose's forces began to clash with James Watson's paladin legion.

From the looks of it, Black Rose's undead army was at a disadvantage.

On one side stood a well-trained paladin legion, their holy light naturally countering the undead. On the other, Black Rose had deployed most of her forces outside the city; only a handful of death knights and a freshly assembled mass of lesser zombies stood at her side. They were simply outmatched.

Still, Black Rose held a numerical advantage, enough to keep things going for the moment.

Ambrose cast a worried glance back but did not dare linger. The faster he finished his task, the safer Black Rose would be.

The two of them flew swiftly before plunging into the sewers.

By now, the Wish ritual had been fully activated. The sewers had taken on an eerie, distorted atmosphere.

Seeing Ambrose stop, Gary Watts urged impatiently, "Move. The core of the ritual is just ahead. We can't waste time here."

With some of his humanity restored, his emotions had become volatile, and his tone sharp and irritable.

But Ambrose replied, "What's the point of heading to the core right now? To complete the ritual, your soul must first evolve. I'll solve that problem first."

Gary Watts sneered. "Now? Here? I spent decades perfecting this ritual to erase the humanity from my soul through ritual sacrifice. You figured out my plan only days ago, and you're still in a weakened state after your resurrection. What could you possibly do?"

"As I said, when it comes to souls, I'm the expert. Now, shut up, bare your soul, and let me get to work."

Ambrose reached out and grabbed Gary Watts.

Instinctively, Gary Watts tried to dodge, but he suppressed the impulse to do so. The ritual had reached its most critical stage. There was no time left to delay. Since he had chosen to trust Ambrose, there could be no turning back.

Gary Watts closed his eyes, allowing Ambrose's hand to sink into his body.

The instant Ambrose's hand touched the translucent soul, countless black threads finer than hair erupted from his palm, rapidly spreading across Gary Watts's entire being.

Ambrose's hand became Gary Watts's heart. Those threads turned into new nerves and vessels as they seized total control of his soul.

"This... this sensation... You're altering my memories?! No, this is different. You're reconstructing my soul!" Gary Watts exclaimed.

"Correct," Ambrose explained. "I can reshape souls at a fundamental level—not just memories, but the soul itself. My legendary boon is Mimetic Soul. It allows me to create artificial souls from thin air. After years of research, having mastered the unique properties of souls, I was able to modify them to produce specific specializations. For me, this is a minor operation that I've practiced tens of thousands of times.

"Stripping away humanity in preparation for apotheosis is hardly something I've tried before, but the principles are the same."

As Ambrose spoke, the black threads writhed like living things, weaving and reweaving Gary Watts's soul into an entirely new form.

His head and limbs melted like wax, then split into multiple tentacle-like appendages. His illusory skeleton dissolved. His body no longer resembled anything human. Gary Watts's soul had transformed completely from a humanoid shape into a jellyfish.

"This feeling... Yes... I am evolving... and far beyond my own calculations..."

Gary Watts's voice echoed from within his soul. It was calm again, no longer frenzied.

Ambrose, meanwhile, was trembling violently. He could no longer even maintain his Shapeshifting spell and was forced to revert to his skeletal form.

Though Mimetic Soul was powerful, Gary Watts's soul was far more resilient than anything he had ever dealt with. In the past, shaping souls had been like molding clay to him. With Gary Watts, it was as if he had to carve—no, not just carve, but rather micro-engrave—adamantium. The difficulty had increased a hundredfold.

On top of that, Ambrose was still weakened. He had to maintain absolute focus to complete this soul surgery.

Still, in Ambrose's estimation, the success rate would be no higher than five percent.

The black threads suddenly began to convulse wildly as they tangled into a chaotic knot.

Gary Watts let out a piercing scream. The agony of a convulsing soul far exceeded any physical torture; in that instant, it felt as though he were being flayed alive hundreds of times over.

"Endure it!" Ambrose shouted.

One by one, dice of fate manifested around Ambrose. These dice were not formed of magic or any physical substance, but woven from intangible threads of destiny itself. Under Ambrose's control, they spun frantically, then plunged into Gary Watts's jellyfish-shaped soul.

Ambrose was rewriting all futures where the surgery failed, replacing every mistake with success.

And he believed he could do it.

The fragments of the prophecy he had gleaned showed that Ambrose would preside over the Wish ritual in the sewers. Therefore, this soul surgery had to succeed. If it were destined to fail, Ambrose would have fled long ago.

All Ambrose had to do now was trust fate: the power he had once cast aside.