The hag lay on the ground, laughing until she nearly suffocated. She was completely unable to break free from the effects of Tasha's Hideous Laughter. Only after the druids had firmly bound her with vines did Ambrose dispel the spell.
It hadn't been long, but the hag's body had already sustained severe damage. She had nearly laughed her lungs out and now her mouth was filled with the taste of blood, unable to even speak.
The druids of the Golden Vine Tribe stood at a cautious distance. They didn't dare approach the powerful lich, instead pulling Naomi aside to ask her what had happened.
Naomi, of course, held nothing back, recounting how she met Ambrose in the tavern and then partnered with him to come to the sewers to rescue them.
All the druids found it incredible. A druid cooperating with an undead was practically unheard of. According to the tenets of Silvanus, undead creatures that subverted the natural balance should be purified on sight.
But they had all witnessed Ambrose's power. If they were to make a move now, they would surely be the ones to die.
For the sake of him saving them, this time, they would make an exception to their god's teachings.
That was how the druids rationalized it.
Van Jones struggled to accept the fact that they had been saved by an undead, then immediately began to lecture Naomi.
Collaborating with an undead was one thing, and venturing into the sewers could be excused as Naomi caring for her people, but for her to appear with the Statue of Silvanus was an act of grave sacrilege.
Van Jones said angrily, "Naomi, how dare you steal the statue! Do you have any idea what the consequences could be? Even if all of us died here, it wouldn't compare to the importance of the statue. If anything were to happen to this divine artifact, the entire Golden Vine Tribe would be destroyed!"
Naomi retorted emotionally, "It was the Great Elder's order! He was the one who told me to take the statue!"
Van Jones asked in astonishment, "How is that possible? Has the Great Elder gone mad?"
But Naomi insisted, "The Great Elder must have seen the future again. Wasn't our mission this time also carried out on his orders?!"
Van Jones wanted to ask more, but a fellow druid beside him quickly tugged his arm and glanced towards Ambrose.
Van Jones immediately fell silent. This was a tribal secret, not something to be debated right now.
Ambrose, however, was paying no attention to the druids. He had already relieved his clients of several magic items: an enchanted ring, a leather armor imbued with nature magic, and a magic shortbow... all told, they were worth about ten thousand gold.
With the payment collected, Ambrose had completely lost interest in the group of druids.
He was now standing in front of Husky the ranger. "You see, you've been saved, and it's all thanks to me. Rationally speaking, I am your savior, correct?"
Husky nodded repeatedly. He had previously planned to scam this guy, but who could have imagined this lich was so formidable? He must have had lard clouding his judgment to even think of targeting such a powerful figure.
Husky said emotionally, "Thank you, Lord Lich, for saving my life. I am eternally grateful."
"I'm a lich. What do I need a human's gratitude for? Give me something more tangible."
Ambrose held up two fingers and rubbed them together.
Husky understood the gesture perfectly, but he smiled wryly. "Lord Lich, I'm a poor man. I can't offer much money."
"How much do you have?" Ambrose asked.
Husky took out his deflated coin purse—this was no bag of holding. He opened it to reveal only two gold coins and a few scattered coppers.
"That's it?" Ambrose said, displeased.
Husky said awkwardly, "Lord Lich, my brother and I are poor folk. We really can't spare any more."
"Is that so," Ambrose said with a sigh. "Alright then. I see you have a fine bone structure. You'd make a decent skeleton."
Hearing this, Husky's knees went weak with fear. He quickly stammered, "No, no, no! We have money, it's just not on us! My brother and I can't afford a bag of holding, but we have some at home. Lord Lich, if you send us back, we'll definitely deliver the money."
Ambrose was finally a little more satisfied. "See, I'm not an unreasonable person. I charged ten thousand gold to save six druids. For the two of you, I'll charge a thank-you fee of two thousand gold each. That's not excessive, is it?"
Husky counted on his fingers. "My lord, isn't there something wrong with the numbers? Ten thousand gold for six druids is less than two thousand per person."
"Ever heard of rounding up?" Ambrose shot back.
The soulfire in the lich's eye sockets blazed, as if he was about to turn Husky into a skeleton on the spot. Husky quickly said, "I have, I have! Your math is excellent, my lord."
"Mm, good. A smart one. Here, sign this IOU."
Ambrose produced a parchment and clearly wrote down the debt owed by Blackie and Husky, even detailing the interest for late payments, which came just shy of the City of Alchemy's legal limit for usury.
No one could find fault with the contract itself.
Husky miserably signed his name, then looked back at his unconscious brother. "Lord Lich, my brother is still unconscious. I can sign for him."
But Ambrose said, "Why go through all that trouble?"
A ray of magical light fell upon Blackie, and the rogue with the blissful, reminiscent expression on his face quickly regained consciousness.
Blackie was still dazed, muttering, "Goddess? Goddess, where are you?"
But as the effects of the illusion faded, he began to stare blankly. Upon seeing the hag, tightly bound in vines, he immediately vomited until he was dizzy.
Seeing Blackie's tormented expression, Ambrose suggested, "I know a memory-wiping spell. Three hundred gold a cast. I guarantee precise removal of a specific memory with no adverse side effects. Want a shot?"
Blackie decisively signed the contract. Forget three hundred; he would have scraped together three thousand gold even if it meant selling everything he owned. Otherwise, he would be psychologically scarred for life, possibly suffering permanent functional defects.
Ambrose contentedly put away the contracts. He wasn't worried about Blackie and Husky not paying. He had plenty of ways to squeeze every last drop out of these two backstabbing adventurers.
Next, Ambrose took out another piece of parchment and had Naomi draw a map of the slime gathering spots. Now that she had reunited with her tribe, it was unlikely she would continue to travel with him. Naomi didn't dare violate their agreement and carefully drew out all the locations she knew before leaving with her people.
After collecting all the valuables, Ambrose finally turned his attention to the half-dead hag.
The most valuable thing from this sewer expedition wasn't the magic equipment or the tens of thousands of gold coins, but the ugly monster before him.
Ambrose walked up to the hag and said very seriously, "Now we have plenty of time to chat. About that prophecy of a god in the sewers... tell me everything, in detail."