Lich for Hire

Thick, vibrant life energy filled the fetid sewers, carving out a small, breathable haven where Naomi could finally catch her breath.

Ambrose only needed one glance at the idol before him to tell that it bore at least three kinds of blessings: regeneration, poison immunity, and unfettered movement. Not only that, all of them were wide-area enchantments. It was enough to make even a lich jealous.

This was the nature of divine relics—something so powerful that even a random mortal could wield it to miraculous effect. This statue would be worth at least a million gold on the open market.

That said, druidic relics had to be recharged by sacred rites and rituals every now and then. If someone else were to claim it, its powers might be depleted within a matter of months.

But no matter how potent such a relic was, Ambrose couldn't enjoy any of its benefits.

For the undead, the divine power of Sylvanas was even more dangerous than the sewer's miasma.

The stench and filth merely made Ambrose uncomfortable, but that natural green barrier around the idol would corrode his undead body as if it were acid.

After all, the undead were fundamentally opposed to the natural order of life, and were anathema to Sylvanas himself.

"The idol of Sylvanas can purify the sewers' toxins," Ambrose said. "It probably breaks illusions too. That's your trump card for saving your kin, isn't it?"