Anbaixiu shut himself inside the laboratory, devoting his full attention to the study of soul puppets.
The territory's land reclamation plan stumbled forward as well. Although Raul carried sufficient intimidation, neither he nor Isabel had any knack for managing such matters.
Yet it was no great problem. Hardly any lord on this continent was adept at governance anyway; having strong troops and hardy steeds to keep things firmly suppressed was all that was ever required.
As long as these hundred-odd freemen had no wish to starve, they would find ways to work on their own.
Under normal circumstances, clearing wasteland consumed an immense amount of labor. For an ordinary family to reclaim a single mu of land, it would take at least three able-bodied laborers toiling for half a year to a full year.
The three most troublesome obstacles in reclamation were weeds, rocks, and pests.
Weeds had to be yanked up by the roots; otherwise, they would sprout back within days. Burning them off in one go was far from easy either, as lush green grass did not burn simply because someone wished it to—unless one poured on several flasks of flame potions, but the expense would be exorbitant.
As for the rocks of every size strewn everywhere, digging them out one by one was exhausting enough. Whenever a boulder proved too heavy to budge, it had to be repeatedly heated red-hot and doused with water to crack it apart before it could be hauled away, a process that wasted untold amounts of time and firewood.
The presence of insects posed a tremendous threat to crops as well, demanding vast amounts of time for pest removal.
Yet all of this became remarkably simple with the aid of magical potions.
Under Anbaixiu's instruction, the stone-softening potion brewed by Isabel made stone brittle enough to shatter with a light tap. Sprayed over weeds, it also caused their moisture to evaporate rapidly, turning them withered, yellow, and dry as tinder.
A spray of the potion, a single day of waiting, and then a blaze would scorch the wasteland through and through. The roots and insect eggs deep underground were thoroughly incinerated, converted into fertile ash for the soil.
Once the fire died out, all that remained was to swing a hoe and turn the earth.
Having never witnessed such an effortless method of reclamation, even those who had harbored faint grievances dared not utter another word.
In truth, this was hardly a secret technique, but merely a question of cost.
If these concoctions were bought from the City of Alchemy, they would cost at least a thousand gold coins, whereas a single gold coin was enough to keep an adult man well-fed for an entire month.
Weighed by that measure, relying on sheer human labor to clear the land was far more cost-effective. After all, life was cheap in this day and age, and labor was worth even less.
Yet Anbaixiu could brew these potions himself, cutting the expense dramatically; even factoring in Isabel's labor, it amounted to only about a hundred gold coins.
Moreover, Anbaixiu was a lich. If he did not give these humans a little sweetness, they might never settle down comfortably on his land.
Everything advanced step by step, both Anbaixiu's experiments and the reclamation of the territory. Crude wooden houses were already being put together, and one plot of wasteland after another was transformed into fertile fields. Barring any surprises, official farming could begin in another month or two.
With arable land in hand, everything would fall into place.
Yet not everyone wished to see a lich's domain thrive.
Anbaixiu's territory was by no means small, but looking down from the sky, one would find it hemmed in on all sides by surrounding human lords, leaving truly not the slightest opening.
Among them, the territory to the west covered the largest area, spanning nearly half the size of Anbaixiu's domain. The lord of that land was an illustrious knight of distinguished service.
Twenty years ago, during the monster subjugation campaign, he had draped himself in porcupine hide and valiantly slain a griffin, earning the title Porcupine Knight along with this fief.
Back when Anbaixiu was still human, he had little to do with this Porcupine Knight. In recent years, after his transformation into a lich, the surrounding lords had blacklisted him entirely, cutting off all communication. Yet today, the Porcupine Knight had no choice but to mount his fine steed in person and ride to the edge of Anbaixiu's domain.
Circling half the perimeter on his tall mount, the Porcupine Knight frowned deeply. He wore gleaming silver chainmail, and draped behind him was a cloak embroidered with a giant porcupine crest, giving him an imposing, formidable appearance.
In contrast, the attendant beside him, also on horseback and clad in a mage's robe, looked frail and small. Even so, the Porcupine Knight's attitude toward him appeared remarkably respectful. Lowering his head politely, he said, "Mr. Harvey, you see it as well. This lich is going too far."
The young man addressed as Mr. Harvey looked into the distance, where he could faintly discern numerous figures clearing the wasteland. Without question, every last one was human.
Quite a few freemen had fled from the Porcupine Knight's domain. He had assumed they had slipped into the wilderness to contest territory with goblins and gnolls, never imagining they had run to a lich's lands instead. What astonished the Porcupine Knight even more was that the lich had actually taken them in.
Could a lich truly coexist with humans?
Harvey pondered for a moment, then said, "My Lord, as your magical advisor, I suggest you lodge a complaint with the City of Alchemy."
The Porcupine Knight asked, "You mean you don't advise me to launch a direct attack against this lich's territory?"
According to the rules of the City of Alchemy, lords were forbidden from poaching each other's population. Once such an act took place, reporting it to the City of Alchemy granted the right to take the initiative and wage war on the offending domain. In the event of victory, the benefits were immense: at the very least, one could claim a massive war indemnity, and with good fortune, even expand one's borders.
Yet Harvey was advising the Porcupine Knight to submit a formal complaint. Such a move sought to have the City of Alchemy send someone to mediate and uphold justice. Even if successful in the end, the lion's share of the gains would be pocketed by the City of Alchemy, leaving a minor lord like him lucky to receive a meager pittance of compensation.
The gulf between the two outcomes was simply too wide, leaving the Porcupine Knight rather unwilling to accept it.
Harvey said with utter gravity, "My Lord, the undead are not so easily dealt with, especially high-tier undead like liches. We don't even know this lich's name. For all we know, the moment we set foot inside his borders, a thousand skeletons could erupt from the earth."
The Porcupine Knight countered, "We can unite with the neighboring lords. All of them have had freemen flee, and likely every one has run straight to this lich's doorstep. A well-trained militiaman can handle three or four skeletons in broad daylight. Combining our forces, even if he truly possesses a thousand skeletons, it would amount to nothing. Besides, we can also enlist the help of that esteemed person."
Harvey fell silent. He knew who the Porcupine Knight was talking about.
A formidable paladin from the Ryan Empire happened to be a guest in the Porcupine Knight's territory these past few days. He had not come alone either; he brought an elite adventurer party with him. If this was merely some obscure, ordinary lich, that adventuring party alone could handle the threat.
What the Ryan Empire despised most was the undead. Hiring them to deal with a lich would hardly cost much; offering even a shred of a clue would be enough for them to march up to the lich's doorstep and cause trouble on their own.
With such backing, the Porcupine Knight felt confident enough to bypass the judgment of the City of Alchemy and march directly on the lich's lands.
Reason told Harvey that his lordship's plan had a high chance of success. Yet whenever Harvey looked toward that gloomy castle, his intuition screamed at him never to draw near. As a wizard apprentice of the Divination School, Harvey trusted his instincts above all else: this lich was definitely far more dangerous than anyone imagined.
"My Lord, if you have already made up your mind, I suggest preparing on two fronts. First, unite with the other lords, negotiate terms with that paladin, and then declare war on the lich in a manner that complies with the rules. We must adhere strictly to the laws of the City of Alchemy, leaving the lich without the slightest fault to exploit. That way, even if our assault fails, as long as we withdraw from his lands, he will be forbidden from pursuing us. Second, while preparations are underway, I advise you to gather intelligence regarding this lich. There may yet be other options."
As an advisor, Harvey could only offer recommendations to the best of his ability, not make decisions for his lord.
The Porcupine Knight nodded. "Right. You speak true—before going to war, one ought to learn more about the enemy. I will contact the other lords. Mr. Harvey, I know nothing of magic, nor of the undead. Gathering intelligence can only be left in your hands."
Harvey replied respectfully, "It is my bounden duty. However..."
"However what?" the Porcupine Knight asked.
"My Lord, the financial situation of the City of Alchemy is unraveling with alarming speed, and this is merely the beginning. Even if you win this war, it may not satisfy the appetite of those alchemists."
The Porcupine Knight's expression shifted, but soon hardened with resolve. "Compared to the City of Alchemy, we are merely ants beneath a great tree. But even if we do nothing, will that keep the tree from falling? Before the collapse arrives, it is all the more reason for us to build up our strength."
Chapter 16