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"You're saying the elven gods sent you to help me?" Ambrose felt like he'd just heard the biggest joke in the world.
He was a lich.
A pile of rotting bones had nothing in common with elves. If anything, he had more in common with the drow-spider hybrids lurking in the Umbral Depths.
"Catherine, are you feeling alright?" Ambrose asked.
Could some evil god have possessed her? He was starting to suspect that some evil god had taken an interest in her and was feeding her hallucinations. But illusions didn't work well on elves, and Catherine didn't look confused or bewitched at all.
Catherine showed no sign of joking. "I received a divine blessing. You know that."
At the mention of that, Ambrose's soul turned green with envy.
Back then, he'd practically ground his teeth in hatred. He had lived for centuries and had never seen such a useful blessing, nor met such a generous god.
Even though the God of Alchemy was technically his master, all his blessings had come with price tags.
Catherine shook her head. "My blessing prevents me from being harmed while bathed in moonlight. Don't you...
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