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Fate had always enjoyed cruel jokes.
Not long ago, Ambrose had been calculating how many elves he would slaughter on the battlefield, just to teach them the wrath of a lich. Now, he was forced to consider how to stop the war altogether. To outsiders, the reversal might seem ironic or amusing. To Ambrose, it was enough to make his soul go into shock.
Fate never changed.
Just when he thought he had his life planned out, unseen waves crashed down on him and left him reeling. When he finally grabbed what seemed to be a lifeline, he discovered a fishhook hidden within it. Thinking back on those memories made Ambrose feel a chill seep through his bones, as though even his marrow was being chilled by the wind.
Still, he knew perfectly well that this decision was the right one.
Ever since he had gained the power of divination, his instincts had been eerily accurate. Even after he deliberately sealed that ability away, he could still make vague judgments about the future. It had become a passive effect, something that could not be fully removed no matter what he did.
And now that his skill...
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