Ambrose locked himself away in his laboratory, fully absorbed in his research on Effigies.

Meanwhile, the development of his domain proceeded in fits and starts. Raul was certainly intimidating enough, but neither he nor Isabel had a knack for management.

But that wasn't a huge problem. Few lords on this continent were skilled administrators anyway; as long as their armies were strong enough to suppress any dissent, that was all that mattered.

As long as the hundred or so freemen didn't want to starve, they'd figure out a way to work.

Under normal circumstances, clearing uncultivated land required immense manpower. For an average family to clear a single acre, it would take at least three laborers working for six months to a year.

The three greatest challenges in clearing land were weeds, rocks, and pests.

Weeds had to be pulled out by the root, or they would grow back in days. Trying to burn them all away wasn't easy either; lush green grass doesn't just catch fire when you want it to, not unless you doused it with a few flasks of alchemical fire, but that would be far too expensive.

The land was littered with rocks of all sizes, and digging them out one by one was exhausting work. For those too large to move, they had to be repeatedly heated red-hot and then doused with water to crack them apart—a process that wasted an incredible amount of time and firewood.

Pests also posed a major threat to crops, requiring countless hours spent on extermination.

But with the help of magical potions, everything became remarkably simple.

A Petrification Potion, which Isabel concocted under Ambrose's guidance, made rocks brittle enough to shatter with a light tap. When sprayed on weeds, it caused them to rapidly dehydrate, turning them yellowed and flammable.

They would spray the potion, wait a day, and then set a fire that would burn through the wasteland, incinerating roots and insect eggs deep in the soil and converting them into fertilizer.

Once the flames died down, all that was left was to turn the soil with a hoe.

The people, who had never witnessed such an effortless way of clearing land, no longer dared to utter a single word of complaint.

In truth, this was no secret technique. It was simply a matter of cost.

If these potions had been purchased from the City of Alchemy, they would have cost at least a thousand gold coins, and a single gold coin was enough to feed an adult man for a month.

By that calculation, it was far more cost-effective to use manual labor; after all, in this day and age, life was cheap, and labor was even cheaper.

But Ambrose could brew these potions himself, drastically reducing the cost. Even including Isabel's labor, the total was only around a hundred gold coins.

Besides, Ambrose was a lich. If he didn't offer these humans some benefits, they might not be willing to settle peacefully in his domain.

Everything was proceeding according to plan, both Ambrose's experiments and the development of his territory. Simple wooden houses had been erected, and patches of wasteland were being converted into fertile fields. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, they could begin planting in a month or two.

Once they had arable land, everything would fall into place.

However, not everyone wanted to see a lich's domain prosper.

Ambrose's territory was sizable, but viewed from the sky, one would see it was tightly encircled by human-led domains, with not a single gap.

The largest of these, to the west, was nearly half the size of Ambrose's own lands. The lord of this region was a knight of distinguished merit.

In the monster subjugation war twenty years ago, he had fearlessly slain a griffin while clad in porcupine hide. For this feat, he earned the title of the Porcupine Knight and was granted this territory.

Even when he was human, Ambrose had had no dealings with this Porcupine Knight. After becoming a lich, he was completely shunned by the neighboring lords, all communication severed. But today, the Porcupine Knight had no choice but to ride his steed to the borders of Ambrose's land.

After circling the territory on his tall horse, the Porcupine Knight's brow furrowed deeply.

He wore a suit of shining silver chainmail, and the cape draped over his back was embroidered with a large porcupine sigil, giving him a tall and imposing appearance.

In contrast, the robed mage riding beside him seemed small and frail. Yet, the Porcupine Knight's attitude toward this man was one of considerable respect. He bowed his head politely and said, "Master Harvey, you've seen it for yourself. This lich has gone too far."

The young man called Harvey gazed into the distance, where he could faintly see figures clearing the land. They were, without a doubt, all human.

Many of the Porcupine Knight's own freemen had fled his lands. He had assumed they'd ventured into the wilderness to fight goblins and gnolls for territory, but he never imagined they'd run to a lich's domain. What shocked him even more was that the lich had actually taken them in.

Since when could liches and humans coexist?

Harvey pondered for a moment before saying, "My lord, as your magical advisor, I suggest you file a complaint with the City of Alchemy."

The Porcupine Knight asked, "You mean you don't recommend I launch a direct attack on the lich's territory?"

According to the rules of the City of Alchemy, lords were forbidden from poaching each other's populations. If such an act occurred, one could report it to the city and gain the right to attack the offending territory. A victory would bring great rewards—at the very least, a hefty sum in war reparations, and with luck, an expansion of one's own domain.

But Harvey suggested filing a complaint, which meant asking the City of Alchemy to mediate. Even if they were successful, the City of Alchemy would take the lion's share of the benefits. A minor lord like him would be lucky to get a small compensation.

The difference in potential gains was too great, leaving the Porcupine Knight feeling reluctant.

Harvey spoke very seriously. "My lord, the undead are not so easily dealt with, especially a high-level one like a lich. We don't even know this lich's name. The moment we set foot on his land, a thousand skeletons might burst forth from the ground."

The Porcupine Knight retorted, "We can unite with the other neighboring lords. They've all had freemen flee, and they probably all ended up at this lich's place. A trained militiaman can handle three or four skeletons during the day. With our combined forces, even a thousand skeletons would be nothing. Besides, we can ask *him* for help."

Harvey fell silent. He knew who the Porcupine Knight was talking about.

A powerful paladin from the Ryan Empire was currently visiting the Porcupine Knight's domain. And he wasn't alone; he had brought an elite team of adventurers with him. If they were dealing with some no-name, ordinary lich, that adventuring party alone could probably handle it.

The Ryan Empire despised the undead more than anything. Hiring them to fight a lich wouldn't cost much; in fact, if you just gave them a tip, they'd go looking for trouble with the lich on their own.

With such an asset, the Porcupine Knight was confident he could bypass the City of Alchemy's judgment and attack the lich's domain directly.

Logic told Harvey that his lord's plan had a high chance of success. But every time Harvey looked at that gloomy castle, his intuition screamed at him, warning him to stay away. As an apprentice of the School of Divination, Harvey trusted his gut feelings more. This lich was definitely more dangerous than he appeared.

"My lord, if you've made your decision, then I suggest a two-pronged approach. First, unite with the other lords and arrange a collaboration with the paladin. Then, declare war on the lich in a manner that complies with the rules. Please, be sure to follow the laws of the City of Alchemy to the letter, so the lich can't find any fault with our actions. That way, even if the attack fails, as long as we withdraw from his territory, he cannot pursue us. Second, during your preparations, I recommend you gather intelligence on this lich. Perhaps there are other options."

As an advisor, Harvey could only offer suggestions, not make decisions for his lord.

The Porcupine Knight nodded. "Good. You're right. We should gather more information on the enemy before a battle. I'll go contact the other lords. Master Harvey, I know nothing of magic, nor of the undead. I'll have to leave the intelligence gathering to you."

Harvey bowed respectfully. "It is my duty. However..."

"However what?" the Porcupine Knight asked.

"My lord, the City of Alchemy's financial situation is collapsing rapidly. This is only the beginning. Even if you win this battle, it may not be enough to satisfy the appetites of those alchemists."

The Porcupine Knight's expression changed, but his resolve quickly hardened. "Compared to the City of Alchemy, we are nothing but ants under a great tree. But even if we do nothing, will that stop the tree from falling? Before it collapses, we must strengthen ourselves."