Lich for Hire

Chapter 241: Creation of a Legendary Undead

Many people assumed that a legend had to be extraordinary down to the smallest detail, from hair to toenails.

In reality, that wasn't the case. A bit of bone from Ambrose's body was hardly a panacea. Feeding it to a dog wouldn't turn the animal into a high-tier undead either. At best, it would poison the dog and make it rot faster.

This principle applied to all legends, not just undead.

Back during his adventuring days, Ambrose once heard an old joke: a drunken legendary warrior had his kidney stolen by a drow rogue and sold to an ogre. The ogre reportedly complained that the legend's kidney wasn't nearly as chewy as an ordinary human's.

Whether the story was true didn't matter. It served as a warning that no matter how high your level, there were countless ways to die in this world.

Ahem. A legend did not require a legendary soul. What truly mattered was the strength of the soul and the "abilities" it carried.

Ambrose's artificial souls could be preloaded with specific abilities. For example, the shapeshifting ability of the living mercury spirit golems had been woven directly into their souls and had become innate to their being.

There were many types of undead. For simpler ones like zombies or skeletons, the focus was often combat capability: they could be granted haste or fear auras, for example.

Of course, precise adjustments required examining the actual undead body after creation. For now, Ambrose could only prepare the groundwork for strengthening the soul.

A normal human soul measured roughly 80 to 130 thaums in strength. A thaum was Ambrose's own unit for spiritual strength. A hundred thaums was like a hundred attribute points—you could allocate them to reaction speed, willpower, multitasking, or spellcasting ability. The total was fixed; increasing one aspect meant weakening another.The raw material cost of a normal human soul was only about forty to fifty copper coins. Black Rose's request clearly leaned toward a melee-oriented undead, so the soul's attributes would need to be invested in a warrior-like direction.

Naturally, Ambrose couldn't just hand over shoddy work. This soul was meant for war—if anything were to go wrong, Black Rose would surely come back for revenge.

His plan was to create a soul with a strength of around ten thousand thaums. Even if it were placed inside something like a bone dragon, that level of strength would be sufficient to control its body.

But the material cost for a soul rose exponentially with its intended strength. Of the ten million gold he had quoted, one million covered materials, and the remaining nine million was labor.

Now that the labor fee had jumped to nineteen million gold, he would need to deliver an even better product.

Ambrose began taking out materials from his private storage and arranged them neatly. There were magical plants, metal ores, and gemstones of all sizes.

Ordinarily, these had nothing to do with souls. But when Ambrose picked up a ruby, the hard gem dissolved into shimmering, rainbow-like dust. He kneaded it into a thin, glowing thread.

Gemstones, ores, magical plants—Ambrose transformed them all into radiant filaments, which he wove together.

Gradually, the threads formed something like a floating jellyfish in midair.

The foundation of the artificial soul had been completed. From that moment on, it was an undead. Dark magic began to gather around it.

Unlike the living mercury slimes, whose souls were "alive" and contained no dark magic, this creation was fundamentally different.

If Ambrose were to create a live soul of this level, his ten-million gold quote would be a net loss.

The remaining threads on the "jellyfish" were reserved for allocating attributes and for shaping the soul's personality. All high-tier undead possessed distinct personalities. Mindless creatures that only howled and devoured flesh were merely the lowest tier of undead.

An undead skilled in combat had to be granted a personality compatible for battle. He couldn't just program a few rigid commands and call it a day.

Only with true self-awareness could the soul continue to evolve within its intended role. Ambrose treated his own creations the same way. He never restricted their ability to learn or think. Independent personality was inseparable from cognition.

This, however, was a detail that required discussion with Black Rose. He couldn't simply impose his own preferences on her undead.

Fortunately, she didn't keep him waiting long.

She had previously visited and left a teleportation circle in the castle, so it only took her a few minutes to arrive.

The undead queen appeared as elegant as ever, a breathtaking beauty. But she hadn't come alone. Behind her were more than a dozen drow, carrying something grotesque beyond description.

It was a mass of flesh roughly four to five meters tall, about the size of Gareth but completely shapeless. It resembled a grotesque cocoon formed by piling together flesh and bone.

Sinew and bone formed its outer shell. Purplish-red blood seeped continuously from stitched wounds. Closer inspection revealed blood vessels extending from the cocoon, connecting to the drow and draining their blood.

The aura of corruption it emitted was enough to pollute the entire castle.

Ambrose immediately deployed a barrier to contain it. Otherwise, all the materials in his laboratory would be contaminated.

This was one of the inconveniences of undead: their dark power constantly eroded everything around them.

Even Ambrose had to carefully suppress his own dark magic in daily life, or he wouldn't be able to conduct experiments at all.

He stared at the grotesque cocoon in astonishment. Black Rose, meanwhile, looked at the floating jellyfish-like soul and said with admiration, "Your ability is truly remarkable."

To transform lifeless matter into a soul—even an undead one—was a power that bordered on the divine.

"It can't compare to yours, Lady Rose. Just a little trick to make a living."

He wasn't just being modest, either. Black Rose's legendary boon, Death Gaze, was ineffective against undead, but terrifying against the living. Any living being, regardless of race, would be transformed into undead under her perception.

It ignored shields and resistances, and didn't rely on literal sight. Any living being that her perception locked onto would be incrementally converted into undead.

Even the High Inquisitor of Lyon had been forced to turn himself into gaseous form just to temporarily avoid her power. None of his magical equipment had helped.

Ambrose suspected that, unless the Silvermoon Knight could kill her in a single strike, he would inevitably lose. His aged body wouldn't withstand even a few seconds of her Death Gaze.

Legendary boons weren't about quantity, but utility. Ambrose had many, yet only the Golden Throne was truly suited for combat. Most of his abilities were auxiliary.

Black Rose smiled faintly. "No need for modesty between us. Let me explain my requirements…"

And so, the two legendary liches began discussing a thoroughly sinister plan for undead creation.

According to Black Rose, the flesh cocoon contained three legendary orc corpses. Ambrose didn't ask how she acquired them. Instead, he carefully inquired about their characteristics.

One had been a barbarian, another a warrior champion, and a third a pugilist.

These were typical orc choices: brutal, resilient, and direct. The barbarian needed no explanation. The warrior champion was an advanced fighter class that could cleave through battlefields with a greatsword. The pugilist specialized in raw, close-quarters combat, every strike landing with force.

Ambrose nodded appreciatively. "Excellent materials. For these three classes, the essence lies in the body itself. It would be easy to make a legendary abomination out of such materials."

Black Rose shook her head. "No. Not an abomination. If possible, I'd like a death knight."

That request puzzled Ambrose.

"Lady Rose, you're experienced in undead creation. You know these are fundamentally different. An abomination is stitched together from multiple corpses, but a death knight evolves from a single body. Even if I reshape this into a humanoid form, it would only be a humanoid abomination, not a true death knight."

Categorizing undead seemed difficult, but there was an order to it all. Each type of undead had distinct traits.

Abominations could devour flesh to regenerate. Death knights couldn't, but they could summon mounts from other planes, something abominations would never achieve.

Abilities weren't tied to appearance. Even if a death knight grew obese enough to resemble an abomination, it would retain its unique powers. Similarly, no undead other than liches could create phylacteries.

"I know it's difficult," Black Rose said firmly. "But you don't need to worry about the body. Just handle the soul."

Ambrose thought for a moment. "Lady Rose, you want a highly mobile subordinate, one capable of operating independently, correct?"

She smiled. "Exactly. You understand me well."

Mobility was the one clear advantage death knights had over abominations.

"Then what about its personality?" he asked.

"As long as it's loyal, the rest doesn't matter."

"In that case, I'll preserve only a basic level of consciousness. You can shape its personality yourself. Don't worry, it won't take long. Expect it to form a personality within three to five days."

"That settles it, then."

Black Rose showed little concern for such details. To her, this would merely be a tool for dealing with enemies. Its personality didn't matter at all.