Chapter 49: The Skyborne City of Alkhemia
If Ambrose were still human, seeing the vision of his own head being severed would have been enough reason to start writing a will. But as an undead—and more specifically, as a lich—losing his head hardly counted as death. As long as the phylactery remained intact, decapitation was more of an inconvenience than a bad ending.
The real question was, who was that pale beauty in the vision?
Was she his murderer? Or perhaps… a future friend?
If possible, Ambrose would have loved to make Harvey perform another prophecy, pay a few extra gold coins, and see the rest of the story. But the Goddess of Fate was a flirt: she might lift her skirts just enough to tease you with a glimpse, but if you ever dared to reach for more, she would turn as cold as marble and slap you across the face.
And no diviner could survive the slap of fate.
Every seer in the world knew and obeyed one law: never try to divine the same thing twice. Not within the same span of time, not from another angle, not by changing minor detail. Fate tolerated no loopholes. To test her patience was to invite her wrath, and her hand never missed.
That was the rule: one glimpse was all you got.
Only the Supreme God could defy this restriction.
So, whether Ambrose liked it or not, all he could do was continue examining the six remaining fragments.