Lich for Hire

Chapter 217: A Calamity Written in Fate

The disappearance of Alkhemia had sent shockwaves across the entire continent.

The winds of fate shifted overnight. The political landscape was thrown into turmoil. The Dwarven Kingdom had begun eyeing Alkhemia's former domain like a hungry wolf, and as a result, anyone coming from the city was now a suspect. Travelers were subjected to strict inspections, and there were even hefty bounties for capturing those fleeing Alkhemia.

Harvey, unlucky as ever, was captured by a band of orcs, mercenaries moonlighting as bandits, before he even made it into the city proper.

This matriarchal orc intercepted Harvey outside Sweetdew City, swarmed him, and tied him up.

That was how Harvey ended up being interrogated by a female half-elven orc.

She called herself "Sawtooth Blade." Using the simplest and most primitive methods imaginable, she extracted a confession from Harvey. By the time she finished, Harvey had been reduced to a sorry state.

Harvey had begun to suspect that luck was a conserved quantity. He had had far too long a string of good luck. Perhaps it was now time to pay it all back.

After enduring a brutal beating, Harvey finally managed to convince the orcs that he truly knew nothing about Alkhemia's disappearance. But Sawtooth Blade was not satisfied. They had gone through all that effort to capture him and even put him through severe torture. She wouldn't settle for nothing.

Just as Sawtooth Blade was preparing to butcher Harvey and sell his corpse to some black-market necromancers, Harvey suddenly shouted that he could make her a lot of money.

"I'm really good at gambling!" Harvey declared through his broken, whistling teeth.Naturally, the orcs didn't believe him. Someone pulled out a few dice and challenged him to the simplest possible game: high or low.

The wager was simple. Lose once, and they would cut off one of Harvey's fingers. But Harvey won thirty rounds in a row, until the orc finally snapped and tried to cheat.

Even then, Harvey saw through the trick at a glance and crushed him completely.

At the brink of life and death, a diviner could always trust his intuition.

The moment Sawtooth Blade realized Harvey had this kind of skill, she immediately decided to keep the human alive, rearing him as if he were livestock.

After giving him the bare minimum of bandaging, she dragged him straight into Sweetdew City, hoping to make a fortune off him.

With a swollen face, blackened eyes, and a broken arm, Harvey looked utterly miserable. Ambrose had nearly stepped in to help him. But after thinking it over, he remembered that the next time he saw Harvey, the man hadn't had a single injury on him. Clearly Harvey had solved the problem himself, so Ambrose held back.

Ever since he decided to save Harvey, Ambrose had acknowledged him as a student. Naturally, he was curious to see how Harvey would resolve this predicament on his own.

Harvey, unaware that anyone he knew was seeing him in this sorry state, allowed Sawtooth Blade to shove him into a seat at a gambling table.

It was a simple table of dice. However, the dealer wasn't the tavern owner, but instead members of several well-known mercenary groups in the area. Taverns across the continent seemed to follow an unspoken rule: tavern owners sold drinks and handled commissions, but nothing else.

The tavern itself was simply a platform where adventurers could do as they pleased.

The moment Harvey sat down, the gamblers around the table burst into mocking laughter.

A drow idly biting on the cup of dice called out loudly, "I've seen plenty of gambling addicts, but this is the first time I've seen someone come to gamble even after being beaten up so badly. What, did you lose your entire fortune? Are you betting it all on one last toss? Need a loan? I know plenty of loan sharks."

Harvey casually tossed a gold coin onto the table. "Just roll your dice," he said. "You're not a bard making a living with your mouth. Why all the nonsense?"

"Got a mouth on you, eh? I'll make sure you leave this place without even those rags you're using as bandages!"

The drow glanced at Harvey's coin, which he had bet on "high." A grin spread across his face.

Those qualified to serve as dealers naturally had tricks up their sleeve. As a seasoned rogue, he could easily guarantee a low roll.

The cup slammed down on the table. The drow lifted it with confidence. One, two, three: six pips in all. A low roll.

As he happily collected Harvey's coin, the drow suddenly realized something was wrong. Other gamblers had bet a pile of small coins on "low," and their bets, taken together, were worth more than a single gold coin.

Though he had won Harvey's gold, it was a net loss for the dealer overall.

He frowned. How could he have made such a rookie mistake? Letting personal irritation cost the house gold was a serious problem. Still, the loss wasn't large. As long as he didn't repeat the mistake, it would be fine.

Harvey tossed down a second gold coin. High again. This time, the drow paid closer attention. A lot of people had bet high. In that case, he would go for low.

With practiced precision, he shook the dice. Four, five, six: fifteen points. A high roll.

The gamblers around the table erupted in complaints. They'd lost quite a bit.

A sharp-eyed gambler noted Harvey's streak of losses, and immediately began betting against him.

That put the drow in a difficult position. He couldn't let the boss lose money, so he had no choice but to roll results that let Harvey win.

But to his shock, he found that he couldn't control the dice any longer.

No matter what Harvey bet on, he lost every time. Meanwhile, the gamblers betting against Harvey were raking in gold.

Sweat began pouring down the drow's forehead. After several rounds like this, he found that he had already cost his boss over a thousand gold.

The drow slammed the dice cup down and glared at Harvey. "You brat! Are you cheating?!"

Harvey looked completely innocent. "You're accusing me of cheating even though I keep losing? How does that make any sense? Besides, you're the one rolling the dice. I haven't even touched them. How could I cheat?"

The drow couldn't argue with that, but he was certain this bandaged man had tampered with something.

Otherwise, the dice would never disobey him like this.

Harvey sighed. "What's the point of playing anymore? I'm leaving."

Something about the situation felt deeply wrong to the drow.

The female orc who had come with Harvey hadn't placed a single bet. That meant the two of them had genuinely come just to lose money, which made no sense at all.

But shortly after they left, several orcs walked out of the tavern as well.

They had arrived earlier than Harvey and had been posing as ordinary drinkers, placing small bets here and there. At first they merely gambled casually and lost a fair bit of money. But once Harvey appeared, they started betting heavily. Because the bets were spread across multiple people, each individual seemed to win only a little, but together they had walked away with perhaps five or six hundred gold.

That was equivalent to several months of income. The orcs were ecstatic.

Sawtooth Blade was both delighted and puzzled. "Why not just win on your own?" she asked Harvey. "With your skill, you could win tens of thousands in a single day!"

"Don't you think they'll sense something fishy?" Harvey countered. "You can't extort too much from people. We were able to walk away safely without any danger. But win too much, and blood might spill. In my current condition, I'd be the first to die."

Harvey had learned a great deal from Ambrose—for example, back when Ambrose tricked him into setting up a magic circle, making him believe he would be used as a sacrifice. Harvey had tried to outsmart him by secretly modifying the circle to self-destruct. In the end, he had only made a fool of himself, but the lesson had stuck.

Sometimes deliberately exposing a flaw could hide something far more important.

By using himself as bait, Harvey had successfully covered for the others. The drow dealer probably wouldn't realize what had happened until tomorrow.

He really had grown.

Sawtooth Blade still thought Harvey was being overly cautious, but they had earned a decent sum regardless. Generously, she said, "Fine. As promised, I'll heal you."

Sawtooth Blade raised her hand and slapped it against Harvey's body. Blue-green light immediately began to glow from her palm.

Harvey felt the broken bones in his arm start to itch intensely. Within a few dozen seconds, they had completely mended.

Sawtooth Blade pulled her hand back, breathing heavily. "That's about it. My healing magic only goes this far. You'll have to make do."

Orcs were not particularly skilled at casting spells. Even bloodline sorcerers could only specialize in a few spells inherited through their lineage. Sawtooth Blade was certainly no sorcerer, and her ability to cast magic likely came from her half-elf blood.

Although the wounds on his face had yet to heal, the fact that his arm had been restored made Harvey extremely happy. These orcs kept their word; his life was probably safe for now.

"Let's make a deal," Harvey said. "I'll help you win money. How much do I need to earn before you let me go?"

"Heh, don't even think about it." Sawtooth Blade laughed. "Why would I let a goose that lays golden eggs walk away? From today on, you're my man. You'll work for me for the rest of your life!"

Harvey's eyes widened beneath the bandages. "What did you just say?"

Sawtooth Blade burst out laughing. "Relax, I won't hurt you. Back in the day, my mother captured a drow. She was very careful during the… process. It's a family tradition."

With that, Sawtooth Blade hoisted Harvey over her shoulder and dashed toward the largest inn in the city.

"S-save… me!" Harvey tried to shout, but someone immediately shoved a piece of moldy jerky into his mouth, stuffing it tight so he couldn't make a sound.

Ambrose had observed the entire scene. He and Catherine had been hiding nearby under the cover of illusion magic, watching as Harvey was carried away.

Ambrose let out a sigh. The kid had improved a little, but not by much. Who else would openly tell his kidnapper that he was planning to escape? The smart move would be to keep her relaxed and wait for a chance to slip away.

"You're… not going to save him?" Catherine asked in a deeply sympathetic tone.

After confirming the victim wasn't one of her own, Catherine had breathed a sigh of relief. But she couldn't help feeling sorry for Harvey instead. The psychological trauma from this was going to be immense.

Ambrose shook his head. "I already told you, fate cannot be changed. If I intervene now, I might accidentally push the two of them straight into bed. This is fate's arrangement. I'm sure Harvey will accept it."

After all, Harvey himself had once said that if he foresaw his own death the next day, he would face it calmly.

Losing his virginity was hardly the worst thing that could happen. Adventurers ran into situations like this all the time. The first time might be awkward, but after the second or third, you got used to it quickly enough.

Ambrose turned to Catherine and said, "Let's get some rest as well. I have a feeling we'll soon be able to complete this fake prophecy. Once we finish acting out that scene, Harvey will have 'survived' his fated death."