Ambrose hadn't expected the dwarves to want to talk to him.

The formal negotiations were only days away. Why would Hoffmann Ironfist suddenly request a visit now? He knew the elves were staying here. Was he trying to reach some kind of understanding before the official talks began? That would make sense.

Negotiations failed most easily when the two sides were completely incompatible. The discussions might quickly devolve into bouts of red-faced shouting and mutual insults, dragging the whole process out indefinitely.

Hoffmann Ironfist's visit was likely meant to sound out Queen Catherine in advance so that everyone could stay restrained when the real talks began.

At least, that was how it seemed.

Ambrose did not dwell on the matter. After all, now that he had sketched out Catherine's glorious future as a corporate wage slave, he knew the elven queen would not be in any real danger, at least not before the war ended.

With that assurance, he could relax a little. Everything else could proceed step by step. Fate would take care of the details.

Hoffman Ironfist appeared to be in a hurry. Only a few hours after sending his notice, he arrived at Ambrose's castle.

Heki Stone, the vampire acting as the dwarven intermediary, accompanied him.

Ambrose and Catherine received the dwarves together, observing all the expected courtesies.

Perhaps fate had woven its threads a little too well. Catherine was already starting to inhabit her role; she no longer looked like an elven queen so much as Ambrose's assistant.

When Hoffmann Ironfist saw that Catherine herself had come out to greet them, his expression subtly changed. He leaned toward Heki Stone and whispered, "This elven queen isn't a fake, is she? Greeting us together with your friend... that doesn't seem proper, does it?"

Heki Stone shook his head. "I don't know elven etiquette. But if you're saying she's fake, then how beautiful would the real one have to be?"

Hoffmann Ironfist could not help taking a few more looks at Catherine and had to concede his old friend's point. Beauty like this simply could not be counterfeit. If it were, the elves would not need to fight wars at all. Just send a few elven maidens out for a stroll, and the continent would unify itself.

Still, something felt off. Queen Catherine was standing far too close to this lich, well beyond what decorum would allow for. Weren't high elves known for being aloof? And weren't undead the race they despised most?

Despite his doubts, Hoffmann Ironfist did not forget his true purpose.

He needed to find a way to lure Catherine out of this lich's castle to drop the elves into a trap.

Maintaining his composure with visible effort, Hoffmann Ironfist followed Ambrose inside.

As usual, Ambrose served everyone plain water, explaining that, because liches neither ate nor drank, nothing else had been prepared.

Heki Stone stared at him in open disgust. He had hoped to mooch some blood off him. A lich not preparing wine or pastries was one thing—but not even fresh blood? Who was he trying to fool?!

Ambrose ignored the vampire's resentful glare. Heki Stone was just a freeloader here, and besides, neither the King's Hand nor the Elven Queen seemed to mind.

Hoffmann Ironfist took a sip of the bland water and got straight to the point. "I apologize for the sudden unannounced visit. With the talks approaching, and considering the recent incident, I wanted to meet Her Majesty Queen Catherine in advance. I hope the previous attack will not affect our upcoming negotiations."

Catherine replied calmly, "It was merely an accident. Thanks to Master Megaman's assistance, the elves suffered no fatalities. Everyone is already recovering after prompt treatment."

Not a single elf died?

Hoffmann Ironfist felt a twinge of disappointment. He knew Catherine herself was unharmed, but not any other details.

Using a Hellgate for an ambush and failing to kill even a single elf—was the House of Cerberus really that incompetent?

Or... was this lich simply too strong?

Hoffmann Ironfist looked at Ambrose, currently in human form. It seemed he needed to reassess the lich's true strength.

Ambrose noticed the deeply buried disappointment on Hoffmann's face but wasn't too surprised. Dwarves and elves were still fundamentally enemies; being disappointed that the other side had not lost anyone was perfectly normal.

Ambrose himself would feel disappointed hearing that the Lyon Empire kept winning its wars.

Not wanting to waste time, Ambrose suggested directly, "Lord Hoffmann, since you're already here, perhaps we can discuss the negotiation in advance. If we reach a consensus now, the formal talks may go much more smoothly. What do you think?"

Hoffmann Ironfist had originally planned to find an excuse—perhaps inviting Catherine to tour the elves' newly built palace—to see if he could get her out of this castle.

But he had no good way of refusing Ambrose. After all, the peace talks were the clear priority. Changing the topic of discussion now would only arouse suspicion.

"That would indeed be useful. There's one thing I'm particularly curious about: why would the elves, who have always been insular, suddenly try to conquer Alkhemia? Surely it holds little meaning to you?"

Catherine had been ready for this question.

"Alkhemia owed the elves a substantial sum. It borrowed heavily from us elves in recent years. As neighbors, we lent them large quantities of materials and gold. Who could have expected Alkhemia to be destroyed overnight? To protect our interests, we had no choice but to send troops and reclaim what belongs to us."

The truth behind mana addiction could not be exposed, so a plausible excuse was necessary. The elves had come up with this excuse long ago.

After all, Alkhemia was gone. No one could verify whether it truly owed the elves gold.

"So that's how it is..."

Hoffmann Ironfist nodded. Alkhemia's severe economic crisis shortly prior to its destruction was well known.

The explanation sounded reasonable enough. Alkhemia's debt certainly wouldn't have vanished just because the city itself had. Sending troops to claim what compensation they could was entirely justifiable.

The elves' earlier actions might have seemed strange, but were reasonable enough in context.

Since Hoffmann Ironfist appeared to accept the explanation, Ambrose added, "Exactly. The elves are not interested in the land itself, only in securing their losses. I have discussed this with Queen Catherine. As long as their debts are repaid, the elves are willing to give up all claims to Alkhemia's territory."

Hoffmann Ironfist nodded at first, then froze.

"Wait. What did you just say? The elves aren't competing with us for land?"

He wondered if he had misheard. Was land not precisely what the Dwarven Kingdom wanted most?

"We elves have always cherished peace. War is a last resort. If there are other ways to resolve the issue, we would never send our people to the battlefield. Every elf deserves a happy, tranquil life."

Catherine spoke with utter sincerity. These were her true feelings.

The elves truly hated war. Painting, playing music, tending flowers, drinking tea—how wonderful such a life would be! It was mana addiction that had ruined everything. Fortunately, with a solution now in hand, Catherine had almost immediately decided to sue for peace.

Hoffmann Ironfist gaped. Could the solution to the dwarven crisis really be this simple?

Had all those schemes and calculations been pointless?

Fearing that it could not defeat the elves outright, the Dwarven Kingdom had worked to weaken them in advance, hoping to seize as much land as possible for resettlement.

And now the elves were saying that they didn't want the land at all—only gold.

That was easy. The Dwarven Kingdom lacked many things, but not gold. Every year, they excavated vast quantities of gold from underground ruins. No one across the continent possessed more gold than the desert dwarves.

"If that's the case," Hoffmann Ironfist said, "perhaps Queen Catherine could name a price. Once we occupy all of Alkhemia, we will consider repaying this debt on its behalf."

The wording sounded half-hearted—"consider repaying"—but both Ambrose and Catherine understood his real meaning. The King's Hand was tempted. Problems that could be solved with gold were problems he could easily solve.

His vagueness was simply part and parcel of negotiation. Nothing should be said too firmly at this stage. This was only an exchange of intentions; when a formal contract was signed, the repayment terms would be spelled out clearly.

Catherine glanced at Ambrose, silently inquiring as to how high the price should be.

When they had first come up this excuse, the elves had casually invented an astronomical figure, meant only to prove that war was unavoidable.

But saying that made-up number now would be disastrous. It could easily cause the talks to collapse again.

So Catherine instinctively looked to Ambrose. This lich was far too good at "business." Surely he could fabricate a reasonable figure and end the war quickly.

Hoffmann Ironfist noticed the gesture. The elven queen's behavior was strange. Did she not know how much Alkhemia owed her own people? Why was she looking at the lich?

Ambrose reacted instantly. The moment he felt Catherine's gaze, he turned to the already-suspicious Hoffmann Ironfist and began, "This is the situation: in order to bring an end to the war, I persuaded Queen Catherine to settle for less. I simply hadn't had the chance to inform you earlier. Since you've brought it up, allow me to state Alkhemia's debt on Her Majesty's behalf."

Settle for less? Hoffmann Ironfist didn't believe a word of this excuse. This lich looked exactly like the type who wanted to profit as a middleman.

With a hint of mockery, Hoffmann Ironfist said, "Master Megaman, you've really put in a great deal of effort for these peace talks."

Ambrose ignored the sarcasm. Gravely, he replied, "It can't be helped. All this is for the sake of peace."

"Very well. Give me a number. What is the nature of Alkhemia's debt to the elves?"

"Alkhemia borrowed a total of ten billion gold from the elves," Ambrose said. "In addition, they owed massive payments for magical materials over many years—about one billion per year, adding up to another ten billion. They even borrowed elven divine artifacts, which were lost during the city's destruction. These losses are considerable."

The more Catherine listened, the more concerned she was. Wasn't the "elven losses" simply the payment she was supposed to give him? This lich had inflated the figure tenfold! Wouldn't that enrage the dwarves? Even the elves could not accept a number like this. Who could possibly pay that much gold?

Yet Hoffmann Ironfist did not immediately protest. He merely frowned and thought it over.

Twenty billion gold would be a painful blow to the Dwarven Kingdom, but one they could manage. If spending that much could help them avoid a war with the elves, the deal could hardly be called a loss.

The real problem lay with the lost elven artifacts. That was something the dwarves could not compensate. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

As if reading Hoffmann Ironfist's thoughts, Ambrose continued, "I have discussed the lost artifacts with the elves and have offered my services as a legendary mage as compensation. I expect I'll be working for them for quite a while."

Hoffmann Ironfist was shocked—and unconvinced.

"Master Megaman, even if you are a legendary mage, it's inconceivable that you could get the elves to accept such a bargain. Just how many years would you have to work to equal the value of the elves' lost artifacts?"

Ambrose replied confidently, "The Chairman of the Alchemists' Council once personally extended an offer to me. I was known as a distinguished scholar in Alkhemia, and my papers have been published multiple times in Legendary Spellcraft. I am not an ordinary legend, nor an ordinary lich. I am, first and foremost, a researcher. The elves recognize my abilities and believe I can help them forge new divine artifacts. If you doubt it, you may ask Queen Catherine herself."

Catherine nearly ground her teeth to dust. She was the one selling herself into labor. How had this lich become the one humbling himself to work for the elves?

Worse still, she had to sell the lie with him.

Meeting Hoffmann Ironfist's skeptical gaze, Catherine could only nod and say, "Yes. Master Megaman's wisdom is astonishing. We are confident we can create new divine artifacts with his assistance."

This time, Hoffmann Ironfist was genuinely stunned.

He had already thought he was overestimating Ambrose's strength. But the lich seemed to be even more outrageous than he had imagined.

Capable of forging divine artifacts? Even Alkhemia's collection of legendary masters had never produced a single one. How could this lich accomplish such a feat?

If such a lich could be made to work for the dwarves... Would he also be able to forge divine artifacts for the dwarven kingdom?

Perhaps they could even withstand an invasion from the Lyon Empire.

The natural barrier afforded by the desert wasn't an absolute safeguard. If the Lyon Empire refused to give up and managed to break through, the dwarven kingdom would have nowhere left to retreat.

The more he thought about it, the more tempted Hoffmann Ironfist became.

Perhaps... the dwarves ought to deepen their ties with this lich.