Lich for Hire Chapter 32: Is He That Petty?

In a damp corner of the sewers, a mass of slis had been herded into a dead end.

Ambrose stood before a freshly drawn magic circle, waiting for the squirming, glistening creatures to shuffle right into the trap.

The mont one touched the circle, it vanished, instantly teleported away.

A row of reinforced cages was already waiting within Ambrose's castle. Each captured sli would appear neatly inside one of them, imprisoned and ready for study.

Naomi had been spot on. This was indeed a major nest of slis.

Ambrose captured the majority of the ones he had found, but didn't go overboard. After bagging around fifty, he called it a day, but set up a hidden teleportation array before he left. Any sli that happened to crawl into it would be instantly whisked away.

It was less efficient, sure, but potentially a steady, self-refilling source of test subjects.

With the sli problem handled, Ambrose returned to Alkhemia. He dropped off the equipnt he'd gotten from the druids at the local consignnt house. Judging by the current market, it'd probably take two weeks to sell everything.

In good spirits, Ambrose went back to his castle and dove straight into his experints.

As for that so-called prophecy beneath Alkhemia's sewers, he wanted no part of it. His instincts told him it was so mad sche, and anyone poking around down there now was just hopping straight into a trap.

Once Ambrose entered research mode, he focused fully on what was before him.

And thanks to his recent windfall, he could afford a few... luxury upgrades to his experintal designs.

Naturally, things went much smoother after that.

Slis were simple, low-tier scavengers to begin with. Their bodies were mostly amorphous goo, with little more than basic digestive and neural structures. Intelligence-wise, they were bottom of the barrel, driven by nothing but hunger and the urge to split.

Still, the slis from Alkhemia's sewers were a bit unusual. They were noticeably smarter than average, and parts of their gelatinous bodies showed traces of tallic mutation.

Ambrose quickly figured out why. The city's reckless dumping of alchemical waste had tainted them. Consuming that sludge had given them the equivalent of a lethal disease.

Their lifespans were shortened, their temperants violent, and so of the slis even beca cannibalistic.

That caused Ambrose a bit of trouble. He had to first filter out their pathological traits before he could properly study sli physiology.

It took ti, but after dissecting well over a hundred of them, Ambrose finally advanced to the second phase of his project: the modification of living rcury.

Living rcury was itself a mutated sli, one with astonishing magic resistance but no vital organs... and no soul. From the mont it was made, it was destined for a slow, pitiful death.

Ambrose's goal was to give this living rcury what it lacked: to rebuild a perfect vessel capable of housing an artificial soul of his own design.

Now that he was studying the living rcury closely, Ambrose couldn't help but admire the sheer genius and insanity of Alkhemia's alchemists. Their techniques were breathtaking, if nothing else.

Had the project succeeded, it would've ranked among the greatest of legendary magics.

Reproducing a failure was far easier than inventing sothing new. Through careful reverse-engineering, Ambrose quickly discovered a way to recreate the living rcury transformation.

It wasn't perfect, but it worked. The missing organs were restored.

The experint hadn't taken much ti, but it had burned through his wallet.

The whole thing had taken over a hundred and twenty thousand gold in total. He had used up several full bottles of living rcury—just the counterfeits, of course—but it had still made his heart ache.

If not for the old hag's scalp, he wouldn't even have had the funds to finish the experint.

That was how even legends could end up broke. Sure, a lich could live comfortably doing nothing, but for a scholar like Ambrose, every experint devoured gold. No amount of profit could keep up.

In his lab, Ambrose carefully placed a mory crystal on the table and began recording.

"Optimization of New Spirit Golem Synthesis, Trial 46.

"After multiple trials, I have successfully constructed a stable spirit golem vessel. The modified living rcury now possesses a full suite of organs, increased lifespan, and an additional innate ability: Shapeshifting.

"Inspired by mimics, I implanted this ability into the living rcury to allow it to alter its appearance. After all, our goal is to create spirit golem soldiers. A blob isn't much use in battle.

"Now, it's ti for the final fusion. Let's see if the artificial soul will integrate properly with the living rcury vessel..."

Narrating as he worked, Ambrose lifted the prepared artificial soul and placed it atop the surface of the rcury.

As he chanted, the soul sank into the liquid. The once-still mass began to ripple, then tremble. After a minute or two, two small black dots, like eyes, appeared on its silvery surface.

Then the thing stirred, wriggling in its glass jar, like a newborn eager to escape and see the world.

Ambrose quickly released it. The creature gleefully slithered across the table, swallowing every scrap of tal it found.

When it finished, it bounced up and hurled itself into Ambrose's arms, nearly cracking his ribs.

Ambrose chuckled and patted its smooth "head," feeling the faint resonance of their linked souls.

As its creator, he'd naturally built in a few safety asures. The creature was hardwired to love him and to be utterly loyal to him.

He was about to continue testing its capabilities when Isabel burst into the lab. "Master Lich!" she cried, voice urgent. "Bad news! There's an army outside the castle. There are hundreds of them out there!"

Ambrose only sighed, mildly annoyed but not surprised.

He'd known this was coming.

After taking in so many freen, it was only a matter of ti before the local lords got twitchy. Frankly, he was amazed they'd waited this long.

"Well," he muttered, "ti to settle this once and for all."

He stepped out of the lab. As he erged from the castle gates, a surprising sight greeted him.

Among the gathered soldiers stood a familiar face: the paladin from the Lyon Empire, the very sa one he'd tricked out of several thousand gold.

Ambrose blinked. "Seriously? Is he that petty?" The paladin had actually brought an army to collect the bill.