Chapter 436: The Generous and Helpful Lich

Gustavo Flynn was considering Ambrose's proposal seriously.

To be frank, the undead that Ambrose had commissioned didn't present any particular technical challenges—because what Ambrose had actually commissioned was only the casing.

The true core of the technology was Ambrose's Mimetic Soul boon, and his ability to convert inorganic matter into undead material.

Without Ambrose, whatever Gustavo Flynn produced would be nothing more than an empty shell. The only component with any independent value was the miniaturized jet-propulsion engine—and without a remote control system, even that was less useful than a standard enchanted arrow.

It was a genuine pity. For all the progress alchemy had made over the centuries, low-cost long-range control remained an unsolved problem.

Magical automaton legions, for instance, required a controller within thirty meters at most. The ambient magical field caused severe interference beyond that range, and thirty meters was the established ceiling. No one had surpassed it.

Once a magical automaton went beyond that distance, it could only execute pre-programmed routines. There was no improvisation possible.

It was why that one legendary alchemist had ridden his own automaton directly into battle against Ambrose, rather than directing it from a safe distance, which would have been the sensible choice for an alchemist.

As for autonomous programming, too few alchemists had ever invested serious effort in that direction, and the ones who had weren't particularly talented. That field had seen almost no advancement.

Ambrose's products were entirely different. What Ambrose called "remote control" was, at its core, simply giving orders to his own undead subordinates.

It wasn't remote control at all. It was the most traditional necromancer approach imaginable: skeleton swarm tactics, in which the skeletons enthusiastically blew themselves up. The only unusual feature was that his skeletons had a different shape.

That was the nature of alchemy. A breakthrough in one area tended to trigger a chain reaction. The alchemist who invented the mana extraction furnace had transformed alchemy from a personalized craft into an industrial operation, and the field entered a new era.

Ambrose appeared to be doing something similar and pushing alchemy in a new direction entirely. Perhaps in the near future, necro-alchemy would become its own discipline.

But did all of that mean he should accept Ambrose's terms?

The shipping costs Ambrose had mentioned were no small sum. It was substantial even to Gustavo Flynn, so much so that covering it out of pocket would put a strain on his own operations.

Still, the proposal was genuinely tempting. If that underwater battle could be turned into an advertisement, it would draw in clients by the hundreds.

Anyone paying attention could see that the situation on the continent was unstable. The banishment of the Unholy Kingdom was the prelude, rather than the end, to an even larger conflict. Military equipment would sell well.

Military equipment...

Gustavo Flynn frowned and said sharply, "You're trying to use me to sell your undead units, aren't you?"

Ambrose made no effort to hide it. "What's wrong with that? You're one of the manufacturers. The more my undead sell, the more you profit. Isn't it mutually beneficial?"

"Hold on. The cost of manufacturing the undead housings was settled with your jet-engine schematic. Then you want me to cover shipping. Then you want me to be your spokesperson and sell your undead units for you. Then I'm supposed to pay you a cut on top of all that? You haven't spent a single gold coin from start to finish. You're using me as an unpaid laborer!"

Gustavo Flynn broke into a cold sweat as he pieced it all together.

Ambrose had obtained all these undead units without spending a copper, and Gustavo Flynn, desperate to recoup his investment, would be out there promoting them for him as hard as he could, hoping to get a slice of the profits.

What a devastating cycle. Ambrose's sheer audacity in trying to get something from nothing left Gustavo Flynn shaking.

"Easy now," Ambrose said soothingly. "You're exaggerating. The Mimetic Souls don't pay for themselves. The attribute conversions don't pay for themselves. If it weren't for our friendship, would I have come to you at all? Flynn, when did you develop such a persecution complex? Ask yourself honestly: does my product have a market? Can it make money?"

"It can, but you'll make the most from it, unless you share your Mimetic Soul and attribute conversion techniques with me!" Flynn boomed.

Ambrose shook his head. "You're kidding. Mimetic Soul is my legendary boon. How would I share that?"

"I don't believe it. At least one of those techniques is something you obtained by trading with a deity using Alkhemia as your bargaining chip. I should have had a share in that!"

The sharp-eyed Flynn had long since worked out that Ambrose had made some kind of deal with the God of Alchemy. It was around that time that the lich had begun his meteoric rise, his influence expanding and his wealth accumulating faster and faster.

Gustavo Flynn could not accept it. All those years of effort Alkhemia had poured in, and this lich had walked away with every benefit. The thought burned at him like fire every time it crossed his mind.

But Ambrose shook his head. "You're always too greedy, and you always think too much. Let me consider this."

He terminated the connection and rubbed his jaw for a moment, then reached for the God of Alchemy's coin, which gave him the boon of converting material properties.

"Master, are you there? I need your help with something." Ambrose addressed the coin without ceremony.

Before long, a translucent image of the God of Alchemy materialized, smiling. "My dearest student, who are you trying to swindle this time?"

Ambrose grinned back. "Has your divine power grown again?"

The God of Alchemy looked genuinely pleased. "Thanks to you, quite a few people now understand that alchemy is about more than just bottles and flasks."

"Wonderful. As it happens, I've encountered someone who shows insufficient reverence for the God of Alchemy. I'd like to discuss with you how best to take a bit of money from him—or rather, to encourage him to make a contribution to the advancement of alchemy."

"My dear student, let's just say it plainly. Don't you think I know exactly what you're like?"

The God of Alchemy saw through Ambrose's performance immediately, but showed no sign of refusing.

Ambrose sighed. There was no need for pretense with Old Pete. He cut straight to the chase. "Can this coin's boon be modified so that it only converts matter into undead material, and nothing else?"

"Enhancing the effect is out of the question, but weakening it is trivial. Adding a seal is easy enough."

"Can it be restored afterwards?"

"Of course. But why would you want to reduce a divine artifact's power?"

"I intend to sell this to Gustavo Flynn," Ambrose said. "But I can't let him use it for anything except supplying me material for necro-alchemy. It should do nothing but provide a steady stream of necrotic material. And I want you to slightly increase the cost of the conversion when Gustavo Flynn's using it as well, Master. That counts as weakening the artifact rather than strengthening it, doesn't it?"

The God of Alchemy smiled. "For a thirty-seventy split."

"That's outrageous!" Ambrose protested. "You're the God of Alchemy. Do you actually need gold? Can't you just transmute stone?"

Ambrose's original plan had been to have the God of Alchemy double the conversion cost, then funnel that entire surplus directly to himself: not just taking a large sum from Gustavo Flynn upfront, but doing so on a continuous basis.

"Rules are rules," the God of Alchemy said. "Even deities cannot freely interfere in mortal affairs. Gold may not be of great use to me, but it's not entirely without use either. The cost must be proportionate, or Aion might just slap me directly into the underworld. Do you understand?"

"I don't buy it," Ambrose said, deeply displeased. "Thirty percent just for passing the money through? That's daylight robbery."

The God of Alchemy replied, "It's seventy-thirty, in my favor."

"You might as well mug me!" Ambrose exclaimed, outraged.

He had gone to all this trouble to line up a profitable arrangement. Why would he let seventy percent of the profits go to someone else?!

The God of Alchemy held firm. His justification, whenever pressed, was simply, "It's Aion's rules."

Ambrose ground his teeth and said, "When I ascend, I'm going to ask Aion personally whether that rule actually exists."

The God of Alchemy chuckled. "You'd better move quickly, then. The elven pantheon has already declared war on Loss. Loss is outmatched and currently in hiding. The effects of that divine war will soon be felt in the mortal world: every deity associated with conflict will see this as an opportunity to grow their divine power, and they will actively stoke warfare among the mortal races. Prepare yourself. As for the gold, don't worry about it. I'll raise the price twofold, which means your thirty percent becomes sixty percent in absolute terms. Satisfied?"

Ambrose scowled. Did his master think he was an idiot? No matter how many times the profit was increased, thirty percent of it remained thirty percent.

The God of Alchemy consoled him. "Don't worry. As you know, gold has limited use to me. What I retain, beyond what Aion's rules require, can be used to secure you certain advantages."

"What advantages?"

"Opening a particular door for you, for example. Are you familiar with the Goddess of Wealth, Wauleen?"

"I pray to her every day," Ambrose said. "Regrettably, I have yet to receive a response."

"She has had her eye on you for some time, in truth. There is no one in this world who earns wealth the way you do. By all rights, you should have become Wauleen's chosen long ago. Can you guess why she hasn't responded yet?"

"Can't you just tell me directly? I'm a mere mortal. How could I guess at the workings of a deity's mind? Perhaps the goddess possesses some piece of knowledge I don't?"

The God of Alchemy didn't explain further. "Let's say you're right, and leave it at that. Set aside that curiosity. I can help you resolve the obstacle. Before, I didn't have the means to do so, but if you continue expanding the reach of alchemy, I may well be able to manage it."

Ambrose thought for a long time. "Master," he said at last, "let's just double the price for now. Leave Gustavo Flynn enough margin to work with. Alchemy's growth will be far too slow if it depends on me alone."

Choosing between a small sum of gold and the potential of becoming the Goddess of Wealth's chosen was hardly difficult at all.

Ambrose reflected that he was really far too generous and helpful for his own good. He had taken a loss today. He would simply have to make up for it somewhere else.

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