"Living Mercury Solution?"
Anbaixiu tapped his skull. He had heard of this alchemical potion before; it seemed to be a defective byproduct recently churned out by the alchemical academy during their new slime breeding program.
In recent years, the Alchemists' Council had been plagued by a lack of new creations, making those haughty alchemists exceedingly anxious. After all, in their eyes, mages, warlocks, and even gods were inferior to the bottles and jars in their own hands.
They were obsessed with the grand fantasy that alchemy could create anything. Centuries ago, they had even harbored delusions of using alchemy to fabricate a true deity. But they had forgotten that the God of Alchemy actually existed.
The deity could not abide such near-sacrilege and dealt these arrogant alchemists an unforgettable defeat.
The god-crafting project ended in total failure. The God of Alchemy also cast a punishment upon all alchemists, ensuring that not a single one of them would ever receive divine inspiration from his power again.
For two whole centuries, not a single new potion formula appeared in the great City of Alchemy, Alchemia. It was not until many years ago that the current president of the Alchemists' Council finally broke the divine seal and invented a new potion formula, saving Alchemia from a gradual collapse.
That council president was also a legendary figure. He shattered the god's curse, saved the City of Alchemy, and revised its laws to welcome talented individuals regardless of race or nationality. He also provided abundant supplies of affordable potions as civic benefits, drawing a massive influx of talent within a short period and finally reviving the city over the course of several decades.
Anbaixiu had only arrived in the City of Alchemy in recent decades. It was precisely because of the city's tolerance that he had dared to undergo his transformation into a lich here.
Yet as that legendary figure grew old and gradually retired behind the scenes, the alchemists began courting disaster once again. They became obsessed anew with creating species that did not exist in the world, one direction being the creation of metallic slimes.
Without that genius president's involvement, however, the experiments failed repeatedly. The metallic slimes they produced were little more than heaps of dead slime matter, so they renamed it Living Mercury Solution, which could only be used to dissolve and decompose metal.
Aside from that, other haphazard experiments on new species failed one after another. The City of Alchemy squandered vast resources, plunging itself into severe financial strain. With the economy in decline, the elves of the Silvermoon High Court were quick to kick them while they were down; their massive price hikes on raw potion ingredients added fuel to the fire of the city's fiscal woes.
The end result was a wave of bankruptcies across potion-related industries. Even an undead creature like Anbaixiu was affected—his various investments suffered heavy losses, leaving him completely trapped in a financial crisis.
*Damn high elves!*
Anbaixiu cursed once more before replying through the Necrotic Codex.
[Ultraman Tiga: You want this for an experiment? I heard this potion is a failure; all the slimes turned into mercury completely lost their vitality.]
[Crown of the Headless Horseman: I know, but the solution still retains the slime's trait of devouring anything. I have a special situation here and need some Living Mercury Solution to dispose of some metallic scrap.]
[Ultraman Tiga: Private stash of savings?]
[Crown of the Headless Horseman: What private stash? By the Goddess of the Undead, don't go fabricating rumors out of thin air!]
[Rose of Decay: Looks like it really is a secret stash. Seriously, why would an undead creature like you go and get married in the first place? And to a bone dragon, no less.]
[Crown of the Headless Horseman: You lot don't understand the wonders of marriage. Cut the chatter, Brother Tiga. Just tell me if you can get it or not. Worst comes to worst, I'll cover the teleportation fee.]
[Ultraman Tiga: I can give it a try, but it'll probably be pricey. Lately, the Alchemists' Council has been doing everything they can to cut costs and boost revenue. They've jacked up the price of this failed product, trying to recoup some costs.]
[Crown of the Headless Horseman: Twenty thousand gold coins a bottle. I can pay half as an advance deposit.]
An illustration slowly appeared on the yellowed parchment page, depicting a rare magical material known as "Dragonbone Vine."
Rumor had it that this vine could only grow on a legendary-tier bone dragon after it had slumbered for a century. It was an essential extracting agent required for many high-tier potions.
As the image sharpened, the Dragonbone Vine emerged from the page, materializing directly into a physical object. This was one of the unique functions of the Necrotic Codex: small items could be targeted and teleported through it.
This headless horseman brother really paid on the spot without hesitation. No wonder he had married a bone dragon; the dowry must have been substantial. With the high elves constantly driving up potion prices, this Dragonbone Vine was worth at least twelve thousand gold coins. The deposit was more than generous—evidently, the private stash this fellow wanted to hide was no small sum.
"Fucking high elves! Sooner or later, I'll tear down your Silvermoon High Court!"
Anbaixiu cursed under his breath, then replied to the headless horseman: "I'll place the order right now. It will arrive in five days at most."
Closing the Necrotic Codex, Anbaixiu immediately gathered magical power and conjured a magical raven.
For a legendary caster, such a minor spell could not be simpler.
The raven possessed only one capability: to deliver a letter containing his procurement order into the City of Alchemy. In a few days, a caravan would deliver the Living Mercury Solution to Anbaixiu's ancient castle.
A mage's life was just that convenient.
After writing the purchase order, however, Anbaixiu fetched a pile of skeletal materials from a cabinet, preparing to continue his experiments.
"Hmph, discriminating against the undead, are you? I'll show you all that there's nothing wrong with my paper."
With a wave of Anbaixiu's hand, an orderly skeleton was dismantled by an invisible force, breaking apart into individual bones.
These bones floated around Anbaixiu while he sank into deep thought.
The reason skeletons were clumsy was that the structure of the human skeleton was far too complex, and death inflicted tremendous trauma upon a human soul.
Every necromancer had to endure this novice phase: the undead souls they created were of low quality, resulting in clumsy movements. A skeleton crafted this way was like an idiot trying to pilot a Gundam; it took years of practice to precisely control every joint.
As a result, the vast majority of wild undead creatures required enormous amounts of time to train their bodily control, which Anbaixiu considered utterly pointless. A soul was essentially a computer. Its computing capacity was already limited, yet resources were wasted on keeping the body balanced—how could its movements not be clumsy?
"Why must a skeleton take humanoid form anyway? Why must it walk on feet? Wouldn't four wheels make things far simpler?"
Bipedal movement was fundamentally an inefficient structure to begin with. Intelligent life had only evolved the ability to walk upright so that two hands could be freed to use tools, but the motion itself was exceptionally difficult. Even a living human child took about a year of growth before being able to toddle around, and four or five years still might not guarantee they wouldn't trip and fall while running.
Since it was already an undead creature, why obsess over two legs versus eight?
If its original form was stable enough, the issue of falling over would never even arise. The computing power saved on balance could be allocated to other actions, which would naturally be performed far better. If those actions were further restricted to simple, repetitive, modular movements, controlling them would be even easier for the soul.
Anbaixiu unrolled several scrolls displaying the new skeleton models he had meticulously designed. Originally, these designs were meant to be published in *Legendary Spells* to be discussed and researched alongside the wider necromantic community.
Now, Anbaixiu had no choice but to construct the new skeletons according to his original blueprints himself.
There were already plenty of domestic skeletons in the castle. But to impress his fellow necromancers, Anbaixiu needed to create a skeletal warrior that was cheaper to produce yet boasted far superior combat prowess.
"Traditional skeleton warriors can only rely on melee weapons in combat..."
Anbaixiu began meticulously breaking down the bones, assembling them piece by piece like mechanical components. Next, he retrieved a glass jar and took out a translucent ball of light.
This was an artificial soul. Not only could it be fabricated from scratch, but it could also be modified. Its computing capacity was so low that controlling an entire skeletal body was far beyond its capability, but if it only had to govern one or two joints, it could manage with ease. It would only require a slight modification...
While Anbaixiu was hard at work, a sudden scream echoed outside the castle. Anbaixiu immediately set down the bone in his hand. The soulfire in his eye sockets contracted tightly, much like a human pupil constricting.
The magical trap he had laid had been triggered. Someone had breached his castle through illicit means.
Chapter 2