Chapter 87: A Worthless Prophecy

Too many gods could, sometimes, be a good thing for mortals.

It meant that mortals weren't at the mercy of any single deity and could believe in whichever one they liked. As long as their followers didn't convert between faiths willy-nilly, most gods wouldn't mistreat them, save for a few particularly deranged exceptions.

And precisely because there were so many gods, no single god got the final say.

There were laws among gods as well. For instance, though the Lord of Dawn knew perfectly well that Black Rose had devoted her entire existence to destroying Lyon, he could not simply swat her dead and scatter her ashes to the wind.

If the Lord of Dawn were to do so, the God of Liches, Valarun, would immediately tear down the capital of the Lyon Empire. Valarun might be the sort who would get pinned to the ground and beaten senseless by the Lord of Dawn, but bullying mortals would be effortless for him.

Among the gods, the greatest taboo was to shout, "Let's take down each other!"

This was especially for lawful and neutral gods. Unless absolutely necessary, they would not strike directly at mortals. This was a common law that they adhered to, that they had made themselves. If they were to break them, the chaotic, evil gods would similarly act without restraint, causing mortals to suffer far greater devastation.

This was precisely why Ambrose dared to bargain with his own master.

He was exploiting the fact that these gods played by the rules. They certainly had the strength to crush him outright. If all the gods descended together, they could blow the entire material plane to dust.

Of course, this negotiation was only taking place because Ambrose possessed supremely valuable knowledge.

Not only did he have the right to make a Wish, he also understood the nature of the ritual that Gary Watts had come up with.

Across the entire continent, Ambrose was surely the leading candidate for recreating the Wish ritual.

If the lawful gods decided to kill him, his soul would immediately fall under the protection of the dark gods. Ambrose would then become their chosen champion. He would mass-produce Wish Engines for the mortal world—ideally one for every citizen of the Nine Kingdoms—just to see what kind of madness mortals could unleash.

That was Ambrose's leverage.

Perhaps the appearance of the God of Alchemy, his old master, was itself proof that the lawful gods understood Ambrose's importance and were trying to appeal to his feelings.

Once Ambrose realized this, he wasted no time in starting to bargain.

"First of all, I don't have to spell out the value of an artifact that can cast Wish an unlimited number of times. You don't intend to just take it away. You'll probably also demand my silence and forbid me from sharing the technique with anyone. So I don't just want the right to use Wish this once. I also want you to help me obtain divine power strong enough to pin the elven gods to the ground and beat them senseless. That isn't an unreasonable demand, is it?"

The God of Alchemy stared at Ambrose expressionlessly. "Do you have any idea what you're saying? If the elven gods heard this, even I wouldn't be able to protect you."

"Oh? Aren't they eavesdropping? Then how about forcibly sterilizing the high elves? I could live with that."

The God of Alchemy calmly put away his teapot. "You can try making that wish yourself. Let's see whether the elven gods beat you to death."

"Tch. You lawful types really have no sincerity at all."

"Don't be too greedy," the God of Alchemy warned gravely. "We are negotiating with you because we honor our word. Once we finalize our agreement, you'll have offended the dark gods. We'll be bearing the brunt of their hatred for you. Don't act as though you're the one being wronged—from start to finish, you haven't lost anything, have you?"

"Not gaining what I should have gained is a loss. That's opportunity cost right there! Besides, I'm a lich. You're asking me to betray my own alignment. Shouldn't that come with extra compensation?"

"You aren't even a follower of Valarun! Do you think he'll automatically protect you just because you're a lich? Valarun has chosen to stay neutral. Don't even think about dragging him into this."

After centuries apart, the master and disciple reunited not by reminiscing with each other, but rather with a heated argument.

Ambrose was deeply dissatisfied. His original plan had been to Wish himself into godhood—and ideally a god powerful enough to arm-wrestle the Lord of Dawn, at that. The God of Alchemy had crushed that dream outright, telling him that even a hundred Wishes wouldn't suffice to do so.

So Ambrose settled for less. He asked to become a weaker god instead. The answer was still no.

The God of Alchemy wasn't deliberately obstructing him. The effect of a Wish was granted by the gods themselves. And what god would help someone become a god? The price would be astronomical. That would require carving off a portion of one's own divine power and giving it away. It was no different from mortals cutting away parts of their own body.

There were no shortcuts to apotheosis. Ambrose would have to work hard on his own. Perhaps the Creator God would take a liking to Ambrose one day and make him stronger than even the God of Light. Who could say?

The God of Alchemy proposed a compromise: he could grant Ambrose a new legendary boon, making up for his lack of power among other legends.

"Can I design the legendary boon myself?" Ambrose asked.

"No," the God of Alchemy replied without hesitation. "I can only give you a chance to re-ascend to the legendary realm. What power you obtain will depend on yourself."

"One chance isn't enough. I want two," Ambrose bargained again.

"This opportunity isn't mine to hand out," the God of Alchemy said. "But as your former master, I can give you an additional benefit."

He extended his right hand. Countless grains of golden sand gathered in his palm, melting together and forging themselves into a uniquely patterned gold coin.

"Take this coin. It can replicate the legendary boon of any legendary alchemist. You may select only one boon to copy, and it cannot be changed thereafter."

"Does it have unlimited uses?" Ambrose asked.

"This is not your own power. Each use will require you to pay an appropriate price."

"What price?"

"Gold. To wield a legendary boon that is not yours, you must pay gold. How much depends on which boon you copy." The God of Alchemy placed the coin before Ambrose.

It was clear that this coin was a divine artifact, crafted by a god's own hand and capable of producing power akin to miracles.

The problem was that it could only replicate an alchemist's legendary boons. The scope was painfully narrow.

Even the chairman's legendary boon didn't seem particularly impressive. As for someone like Dippel, whose legendary boon amounted to fixing appliances, that was pure garbage. It was less useful than even Ambrose's own Mimetic Soul.

But on second thought, given the coin and the ability to ascend once more to the legendary realm, Ambrose would be able to wield three legendary boons. Even three useless abilities together would likely be a qualitative transformation for him.

In the end, Ambrose additionally bargained for the right to use Wish this once. However, once the wish was made, Alkhemia would vanish entirely, sent into an extraplanar space beyond mortal reach.

From another perspective, after having exhausted every means to transcend the boundary between mortals and gods, all Gary Watts could do with his newfound strength was to fulfill a single wish for Ambrose before being sealed away forever.

Ambrose spared a few seconds of sympathy for the unfortunate chairman before asking, "So the entire city will be teleported away immediately after the wish? Without any delay at all?"

"That's right. Even leaving it around a moment longer would be dangerous. As you said, we're not the only ones eyeing this place. Other gods are growing restless as well. There's no time. If you still intend to refuse..." The God of Alchemy did not finish the sentence. The lawful gods' offer was more than generous. If Ambrose continued refusing to give in, the gods supporting the God of Alchemy would no longer be so polite.

No matter how lawful and benevolent they were, even gods had limits to their tolerance.

Ambrose understood that he could not keep fleecing the gods. Any more demands and he would become a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

"Fine. We'll have it your way."

With no real alternative, Ambrose nodded in agreement.

The God of Alchemy's body slowly dispersed. Before leaving, he said, "Although we will shield you from the wrath of the other gods, their followers will still come after you. Be careful. You've offended quite a few gods today."

The warning made Ambrose uneasy, but great rewards always came with great risks. What he gained was worth it.

As the God of Alchemy vanished completely, the temporal stasis dissipated as well. Everything in Alkhemia returned to normal. No one noticed anything amiss, not even the two sides still fighting above the city.

Only the chairman, who had ascended to divinity, showed a flicker of doubt in his wide eyes, as though he could sense that something was wrong.

Ambrose did not tell him the cruel truth awaiting him. He merely said, "Alright, it's settled. Fulfill my wish."

Gary Watts had no idea what had truly happened. Seeing that the God of Alchemy was gone, he assumed Ambrose had somehow driven the god away by special means.

"Even though I loathe the God of Alchemy, he was right about one thing," Gary Watts said. "You are frighteningly clever. You always seem to be the one who laughs last."

Ambrose did not feel triumphant. Instead, he spoke with quiet emotion. "You have no idea what price I paid. He may have been my master, but we're completely at odds now."

Gary Watts did not doubt him. He had witnessed their argument firsthand; it had been far too fierce to be an act. Perhaps Ambrose truly had paid a price beyond mortal understanding to drive the god away.

"State your wish," Gary Watts said. "I will use everything in Alkhemia's possession to fulfill it."

Ambrose made his wish with solemn clarity. "I want you to create a special space. Seal all valuable assets of Alkhemia within it safely, then transfer control of that space to me."

After all, the God of Alchemy only intended to seal Gary Watts. The remaining wealth of Alkhemia was of no use to him, and Ambrose could easily pocket it all. He had briefly considered being greedier and wishing for all the gold in the world, but that would surely provoke the gods as a whole. Their followers still needed to eat, after all. If Ambrose seized all the gold, wouldn't they all go bankrupt?

At that point, all the gods would join forces to beat him to death.

Only Alkhemia, a city fated to be sealed away, possessed truly unclaimed wealth. So Ambrose settled for taking everything of value from it.

No matter how impoverished Alkhemia was now, it had once been the richest city on the continent. Precious potions, recipes, blueprints... The haul would be worth at least tens of billions. If he could not wish himself into godhood, then amassing a fortune was the next best choice for him.

Gary Watts replied, "According to my calculations, you will receive a total of roughly six million gold."

Wait, what?

Only six million?!

"How can that be? Just how much did you skim off the top?!" Ambrose exclaimed.

"Activating Wish will consume a vast quantity of material wealth as a sacrifice. After accounting for that, only about six million gold will remain."

Ambrose was about to revise his wish to demand a hundred billion gold when another fragment of the prophecy suddenly came to mind: him standing before a mountain of at least a million gold coins.

At least... a million...

That damn prophecy! Was this all he was going to get?!

Since six million gold was the absolute upper limit, there was no point wishing for raw gold.

"Proceed according to the original plan. Seal the remaining valuables into a special space for me. But I have one tiny additional requirement regarding this space."

With a true Wish, Ambrose would never be allowed to haggle like this. But Gary Watts was a divinity amenable to Ambrose. Ambrose could probe his limits, little by little.