The undead did not typically accept living subjects. To most undead, living beings were either food or experintal materials.
Among the undead, only eccentrics like vampires would fall in love with their food, which was also why vampires didn't get along well with other undead.
It was like a normal person finding it hard to accept soone marrying a rotisserie chicken. The general attitude was, "I respect your... tastes, but please stay away from ."
Moreover, mortals who got involved with vampires either beca vampires themselves or were burned at the stake for being vampires.
In this land, interspecies romance rarely ended well.
If even true love t such a tragic fate, the relationship between a superior and subordinate was even more fraught. It was usually a case of a lich enslaving humans, or a necromancer binding a lich.
Ambrose, however, had no such intentions. After pioneering his new path with the alien skeletons, his need for human bones had drastically decreased. The Simulated Soul technology had completely replaced the uncontrollable human soul, so Ambrose had no need to farm humans like lab rats.
What he needed was money.
Mortals would normally never pledge allegiance to an evil creature like a lich. But this economic crisis in the City of Alchemy was a once-in-a-century event. Hordes of freen were fleeing due to their lords' tax hikes, and Ambrose planned to take this opportunity to recruit so mortals.
Running a business was never as profitable as collecting taxes. Even the poorest lord in the City of Alchemy was wealthier than Ambrose.
Behind Ambrose's castle lay a vast expanse of fertile land. Once cultivated, it could easily support three to five thousand people.
This was a one-ti deal Ambrose had made with The Alchemists' Council. He had traded two potion recipes for permanent ownership of the land. It was perpetually tax-exempt but could not be inherited or gifted. If Ambrose were ever to have his ashes scattered and his phylactery shattered by paladins, the land would be automatically reclaid.
The tax exemption alone would save Ambrose a fortune in costs. While other lords collected an eighty percent tax, he could get away with collecting only sixty percent.
Rules were made to be broken. Undercutting the competition with your own capital was a thrill, and doing it repeatedly was even better. If anyone was to bla, it was the economic crisis that drove living people to beco subjects of a lich.
After Ambrose's moral interrogation, Raul was finally convinced he had t a wise and benevolent lord, the likes of which hadn't been seen in ages. Lord Lich was only taking a sixty percent tax! What kind of great philanthropist was this?
If this news got out, tens of thousands of freen would likely flock to Lord Lich's territory. The human lords would probably form an army to crusade against this compassionate undead master.
In Raul's imagination, Ambrose sat at a negotiation table, telling the noble lords in a deep voice, "Humans, please be kind to your own kin."
For the sake of this compassion, Raul was even more certain that he had misunderstood Ambrose. Filled with a desire for redemption and repentance, Raul prepared to do his utmost to help Ambrose recruit other fleeing freen.
Only Isabel felt that sothing wasn't quite right, as if she and her brother had fallen completely into a trap set by this lich.
But that didn't seem right either. The siblings had stumbled upon the lich's territory by accident. No matter how powerful a lich was, he wouldn't use divination on two re mortals.
Isabel had also never imagined a lich could be short on money, because he could have just gone out and plundered.
It wasn't strange for a lich to raid human lords for money and people. There was once a lich who hated humanity so much that he cast an enhanced version of Cloudkill, causing millions to die from a plague.
It was stranger for an evil creature *not* to attack humans.
For this reason, no matter how she thought about it, Isabel found the situation bizarre. She felt Ambrose was definitely hiding sothing, but that was a problem far beyond a re alchemy apprentice to figure out.
About a day later, Raul returned. This ti, he brought back ten living people.
Upon seeing Ambrose, their legs turned to jelly with fear. Several of them turned to run.
Fortunately, Raul used the alien skeleton to block their path. So cursed Raul as a traitor to humanity for working for a lich. Others wept, begging to be spared for the sake of their elderly mothers and young children.
This was where Ambrose's foresight proved valuable. A dose of Calming Draught was forced down their throats, and the sounds, which rivaled a ghoul's opera performance, quickly died down.
Calmness is the prerequisite for communication. Only then did Raul drop the bombshell of Ambrose's sixty percent tax rate. As expected, the news was enough to sway their hearts.
Only sixty percent tax? Was this Lord Lich an angel in disguise?
Before the tax hike, they had to pay eighty percent. Now, it had been insanely raised to ninety percent, and they were even required to pay two years' worth of taxes in advance.
That was why they couldn't bear it and chose to flee.
But they could run from their hos, not with them. The property these fleeing freen left behind would surely be confiscated by their lords.
Faced with the choice between selling themselves into slavery and losing their property, or simply losing their property, most of them didn't really have a choice.
And once they lost everything, even skilled freen were likely to starve, because this tax hike wasn't the act of a single suicidal lord. All vassals of The Alchemists' Council were affected. They didn't even know where to run.
Now, it seed they had a new option.
Pledging allegiance to a lich. Before today, considering such a thing for even half a second would have been a disgrace to their race. But now, with their lives on the line, to hell with race. Following Lord Lich ant they'd have food to eat.
After receiving Ambrose's assurance and seeing the environnt around the castle, these fleeing freen all decided to pledge themselves to Ambrose and beco his subjects.
Ambrose knew his plan was more than halfway to success. These ten or so people would soon help him build his persona as a benevolent lich lord, attracting even more freen.
Ambrose appointed Isabel as the head maid and arranged for the newcors to temporarily stay in the castle.
He himself had to put his undead experints on hold for now and head to the true City of Alchemy for supplies. The freen couldn't all live in his castle. They needed to find places to build new houses, cultivate fields, and raise livestock.
But as refugees, the most they carried was a small dagger and a little pocket change. They couldn't exactly bring their houses with them. They were starting from scratch, and Ambrose would have to provide everything for them.
Of course, it wasn't free. It was for rent.
Tools, seeds, livestock—all could be leased according to custom. The rental fees depended entirely on the lord's mood. A benevolent lord would lower the interest to attract new freen. A cruel lord would jack up the interest to the heavens, hoping the tenant farrs would sell their sons and daughters, turning from freen into slaves.
One couldn't say which approach was right or wrong. Benevolent lords have had their entire families massacred by their subjects, while cruel lords were not guaranteed to die a violent death.
This was a world where might made right.
Ambrose had too much to buy, and the individual items weren't expensive. Using teleportation delivery would an wasting a lot on shipping fees. It was more cost-effective to go in person, make the purchases, and spend so ti renting a carriage to bring it all back.
However, going to the City of Alchemy required a change of appearance. Otherwise, it could lead to unnecessary trouble.
Ambrose stood before a massive mirror and cast a transformation spell on himself.
In an instant, Ambrose's terrifying skeletal form shifted into that of a handso young man with black hair and black eyes.
It was exactly how he had looked before he crossed over to this world.
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