With Geronimo captured, Alkhemia was finally tranquil once more.

The petty lords had accepted reality. Caught between two great kingdoms, there was little power left for them. They were no protagonists who could rally the masses and command the winds of history; no, that was the lich waving the banner of "love and peace."

This Master Megaman, previously unknown to most, had become famous across the continent for his role in Alkhemia's downfall and the subsequent turmoil to come.

Not only because he had mediated the war between the Golden Kingdom and the Court of the Silver Moon, but also because he was a lich.

A lich, doing his best to end a war peaceably?

Naturally, many people insisted that a lich could not possibly be so noble as to save the world. He had to be plotting something.

Perhaps this lich intended to betray both the dwarves and elves with peace talks in public and assassinations in private, plunging Alkhemia into even greater chaos.

Such conspiracy theories enjoyed a robust market. Even the former followers of the Mistress of Pain, the brutal House Skinner, firmly believed that Ambrose was preparing some grand design to bring suffering upon the world.

Every act of kindness was merely part of his plan.

These theories reached their peak after the dwarven delegation was wiped out. Everyone was convinced this had been the lich's doing. With the dwarves eliminated, the elves would be next. The two nations would lose any chance of reconciliation, Alkhemia would be reduced to ruins, and endless corpses would become the lich's spoils. Perhaps he even intended to found a kingdom of the undead.

What a vicious scheme, truly worthy of an evil lich.

Even the Lyon Empire, far away on the other side of the continent, issued an official statement declaring that, if Ambrose were indeed deliberately stirring up war, it would intervene to ensure the safety of local humans.

The message was clear: they were prepared to march troops around the desert.

Large-scale teleportation was expensive, but the Lyon Empire would do anything for humanity. There was no point in worrying about logic with lunatics like them.

Just as the conspiracy theorists waited eagerly for Ambrose to unveil his evil master plan, the Dwarven King and the Elven Queen issued a joint declaration. Under the mediation of this lich, the two nations had signed an armistice.

The elves would no longer send troops into Alkhemia and would fully relinquish all territory they had "acquired." The dwarves, in turn, would pay a certain price to "purchase" all of Alkhemia.

What that price was, neither side disclosed publicly.

But the elves truly did withdraw. All Twilight Wardens previously dispatched returned to the Court of the Silver Moon. All existing magical contracts were annulled. Just like that, the elves handed over an entire kingdom to the dwarves.

Outsiders had no clue what exactly had happened behind the scenes. But the armistice had been signed, and could hardly be a fake.

Soon, dwarven armies began contacting the lords of Alkhemia. The occasional fool who chose to resist was swiftly crushed. With astonishing ease, the dwarves occupied the entirety of Alkhemia.

Large numbers of immigrants poured in and began the construction of new cities.

There would likely be friction between settlers and locals in the future, but large-scale war was unlikely to erupt again.

This lich had truly stopped a war that would have engulfed tens of millions.

Even the Lyon Empire, known enemy of liches, was forced to officially acknowledge that, although Ambrose's motives remained unclear, his actions had dramatically reduced human casualties.

Ambrose had once carried a bounty of three million on Lyon's wanted list. Now, his name had been removed. This was unprecedented.

It was the first time the Lyon Empire had ever offered a positive evaluation of an undead being, an event destined to be recorded in the histories of multiple nations.

Even the latest issue of Legendary Spellcraft's most popular subsidiary journal no longer featured "teenage" elven wives. Instead, scholarly critiques of Ambrose filled the periodical.

Some argued that Ambrose's cross-racial benevolence constituted a betrayal of his own kind, but to other species he was unquestionably a hero worthy of praise. He should be upheld as a model, an example for other undead to follow. Perhaps then, undead and the living could coexist peacefully.

Neutral commentators called him the sole benevolent undead. Ambrose's existence alone proved that undead were not inherently evil. All treatises asserting the essential wickedness of undead would need to be rewritten. Any future discussion on the subject could not avoid mentioning this lich.

Others clung to conspiracy theories, insisting that Ambrose's scheme simply had not yet been revealed. For an immortal lich, a few years of war might be no more than a nap. His plans could span centuries and cross multiple generations. Until the truth emerged, they had to remain vigilant against him.

Ambrose read through every commentary carefully, then recorded each author's pen name. He was preparing to send them letters and see who wanted firsthand knowledge of the "Benevolent Lich." For a sufficient appearance fee, he would offer face-to-face interviews and even discussions of various topics at length.

These sharp-tongued critics had been overshadowed for years by popular authors focusing on elven romance and the like. A major event like this gave them a rare chance to shine. The interview rights would be quite valuable.

Still, that was small change compared to the deal he had just brokered.

What truly mattered was the mountain of gold delivered by the elves.

It was a literal mountain of gold, a total of 1.2 billion gold coins, piled high enough to form an actual mountain.

Ambrose was dazzled. He stood motionless for several hours, doing nothing but letting his soul savor the allure of gold.

The Golden Throne, which had become nothing more than a small seat in the aftermath of Geronimo's assault, began to inhale the mountain in a roaring vortex.

The throne rapidly expanded, returning to its resplendent form and filling Ambrose with a sense of security.

After absorbing tens of millions of coins, the Golden Throne had grown ten meters tall. Seated atop it, Ambrose looked tiny, like a child perched on a giant's chair.

Not only that, intricate patterns had begun to emerge over the throne.

The delicate reliefs seemed to depict some ancient ritual: countless living beings kneeling toward something radiating dazzling light.

"These carvings look kind of familiar."

Ambrose had a feeling that these reliefs represented more than just the Golden Throne's ability to convert faith into gold. There had to be deeper meaning to them.

But there was no rush. He could ponder this new development later.

After stuffing the remaining coins into his private space, Ambrose knew he would not lack research funds for a very long time.

Once that was done, he handed a thick notebook to the elven queen, who was already growing a little impatient.

Ever since crawling out of a dragon's stomach, Catherine had kept herself hidden. Rumor had it she had started bathing ten times a day and had only finally ridden herself of that nauseating stench today.

When Ambrose passed over his notebook, Catherine hurriedly opened it and examined its contents.

It detailed the principles of his seal to curb mana addiction, along with assembly-line designs for mass-producing sealing scrolls.

Well-versed in magic herself, Catherine quickly understood that this was a genuine solution to the epidemic. Her eyes filled with tears.

After years of fear and anxiety, she could finally cure the elves' mana addiction.

The magical seals would completely lock away their targets' magic, turning even elite warriors into ordinary people. Around fifty million elves would need to be sealed. Those fifty million would lose all combat capability, plunging the Court of the Silver Moon into centuries of weakness. If this secret were discovered, the elves would face endless trouble.

But even so, Catherine was satisfied. As long as those tens of millions of elves could live, she would pay any price.

She said to Ambrose, "The Court of the Silver Moon will enter a period total isolation. We likely won't open our borders to the outside world for five centuries or so. But don't worry. The magical materials we promised will be delivered on time. As for the anti-magic weapons, I've already discussed them with Lady Rose. They'll be shipped in batches to the Umbral Depths."

"That's perfect. Saves me the cost of shipping them again."

Ambrose smiled brightly. He loved partners who were honest, reliable, and considerate.

But then Catherine added, "However, I won't be going to the Umbral Depths. According to the contract, I work for you, not for her."

Ambrose felt awkward. The elven queen had suddenly grown perceptive and realized he was planning to ship her off.

"Why not? You're both queens. You should have plenty to talk about."

"Lady Rose's lifelong goal is the destruction of Lyon. If I serve her, she will certainly try to use me against Lyon. The elves are about to enter a long period of weakness. I can't afford to give the elves new enemies, so don't think you can trick me into the Umbral Depths."

Catherine's expression was firm. She carried the resolve of someone willing to sacrifice herself for her people.

"So you insist on working under me? I'm a lich too. Lyon is my enemy as well."

"Your only enemy is poverty. I've understood that for a long time. Lyon has already lifted your bounty. They won't provoke you without reason."

Ambrose frowned. "Why not just return to the Court of the Silver Moon and be their queen?"

Catherine's expression dimmed. "I can't face them yet. I'm not a qualified queen. I lack experience. I'm too naive, and when crises arise, my will falters under the weight of responsibility. There is still much I need to learn."

"You know yourself pretty well," Ambrose said.

Seeing that he offered no comfort whatsoever, Catherine snorted lightly and continued, "That's why I need to learn from you. Your cunning and cold-bloodedness are more terrifying than any villain I've read about. I expect I'll learn a lot under your wing. Don't worry, I won't cause trouble. As tuition, I'm willing to share my legendary boon with you."

She left a few words unspoken.

The real reason she wanted to follow Ambrose was simple: he was the only non-elf she truly knew.

Catherine did not want to face any elves right now. Guilt had tormented her for too long. She needed to breathe. And having never left the Court of the Silver Moon before, she realized with some surprise that the only "outsider" she knew was Ambrose.

Though seemingly cold and ruthless, the lich did not feel dangerous, and neither did he carry the repulsive stench of decay common to other undead. For her first foray away from home, the slightly socially anxious Catherine felt that Ambrose was a good choice.

Ambrose had been prepared to refuse, but he hesitated after hearing her offer.

Catherine's Selfless Resonance would have no side effects on him. Ambrose himself was already a legend, so accepting it would not infect him with mana addiction. A legendary boon for free was not something to turn down.

"Fine. In that case, you can be my assistant for now. But you'll have to pay for your own meals."

Catherine rolled her eyes at him. This lich was truly obsessed with gold.

"So what's next?" she asked curiously. "Are you staying here to become a lord under the Dwarven King?"

Ambrose shook his head. "No. I'm getting ready to move. I have a friend who got rich by digging up graves. I want to give it a try too."