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It was time to settle accounts. Ambrose had all but occupied the entire city of Sandshadow.
Even Allen couldn't refute that. Had the Silvermoon Knight not intervened, the citizens would have descended into complete panic. Once the power of faith ran dry, Sandshadow would have fallen for good.
"So," Ambrose began calmly, "everyone in Sandshadow is my prisoner. That's not in question, is it?"
The Silvermoon Knight snorted coldly. "I've already prepared three million gold coins for you. I even rounded it up."
Fewer than a hundred paladins, and roughly two thousand soldiers—he didn't even owe Ambrose three million gold in all. The Silvermoon Knight had chosen to be generous. Better that than have this money-grubbing lich raise objections.
He simply didn't have the energy to haggle with Ambrose anymore.
Ambrose let out a frosty laugh. "Three million gold? Are you sending off a beggar? That's not the price we agreed on."
The Silvermoon Knight snapped, "You're a lich. Can't you do math? How would you get a number higher than three million?!"
Ambrose shot back immediately,...
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