Chapter 125: Plan in Motion

Though Ambrose and Catherine were in discussions for the better half of an hour, in the end, neither got what they wanted.

Catherine was not particularly skilled at negotiation.

After all, a few gentle words from her, spoken softly, were all that it usually took to make the other party yield.

And if she added a slight frown and a troubled expression, the concessions would only grow larger.

She knew very well that this advantage came from her beauty. After so many years, she had grown used to being able to persuade others easily.

Unfortunately for her, her opponent was Ambrose.

He had clearly been affected by her charm when they first met. Why had it suddenly stopped working?

On the surface, though Ambrose maintained a polite smile and met Catherine's gaze, in reality, he was doing everything he could to rein in his external perception—listening to her words only and trying very hard not to perceive her.

Ambrose had always considered himself excellent at negotiations. After mastering the art of reading micro-expressions, he could peer straight into the hearts of the living, with an accuracy he estimated at over ninety percent.

But against Catherine, this skill was a liability.

Catherine was trivial to read. The elven queen was terrible at hiding her thoughts.

But that was her weapon. Whenever Ambrose saw her unease or hesitation, his heart softened. He nearly blurted out an offer to lower his asking price more than once.

This elven queen was so absurdly beautiful that she could even charm a lich.

Ambrose realized that he had met his nemesis. Queen Catherine at the negotiating table was a powerhouse who crushed all technique with sheer charm. It did not matter whether she understood negotiation tactics or not. A faint smile and a slight frown, and her opponent would be utterly defenseless.

Faced with such overwhelming "raw talent," Ambrose, a technical specialist, had no choice but to suppress his perception entirely. Though on the surface he continued to look at Catherine, he was solely listening to her voice and forced to constantly remind himself that gold was his one true love.

Once deprived of his ability to read expressions, his manipulation was far less effective.

Thus, the negotiations ended in a stalemate, with neither side gaining ground.

Catherine did not care how much the ransom cost. She only wanted to obtain the principle behind Ambrose's magical seal without drawing his attention.

Ambrose pretended to be oblivious. A cure for mana addiction was not something to be sold cheaply, after all. The ransom would merely be a gesture of her sincerity.

Eventually, even Ambrose felt strained. He sighed and said, "We don't seem to have reached an agreement, Your Majesty. Dawn approaches. You should get some rest. The formal negotiations will begin soon, and I hope we can reach a consensus then."

Catherine was indeed exhausted. She had not expected the lich to be so completely impervious to her charm. Considering the fierce battle she had participated in just the night before, she could only nod in agreement.

In the end, she slept for an entire day. By the time she finally opened her eyes, several elves were standing beside her, their faces full of concern.

As she awoke, they asked anxiously, "Your Majesty, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Catherine replied, puzzled.

"But, Your Majesty... you slept for a whole day."

Catherine stretched. She suddenly felt astonishingly refreshed.

"How strange," she remarked in surprise. "I haven't slept this comfortably in years."

In recent years, the mounting pressure of mana addiction had robbed her of peaceful sleep. Night after night, her dreams were filled with nightmares, portents of the elven race's annihilation.

But today was different. It felt as though all her accumulated stress had evaporated during that long sleep, leaving her with a sense of rebirth.

The elves exchanged looks. Many of them had slept poorly themselves. After all, this was a lich's castle. Who knew whether severed hands or rotting spiders might crawl onto their beds in the night?

And yet their queen had slept for an entire day, completely undisturbed. Was this the difference between legends and ordinary elites? Compared to her, they truly fell far short.

Catherine watched the sun dip below the horizon. She was brimming with energy. After eating some travel rations, she prepared to seek out Ambrose again to discuss the prisoners. Having reflected on yesterday's mistakes, she was confident she would find a breakthrough today.

However, when she found Ambrose, she discovered that there was someone else present.

Another woman stood inside the laboratory beside Ambrose, pale as snow and strikingly beautiful. She possessed a bearing similar to Catherine's. At a glance, Catherine could tell this woman was also someone accustomed to power.

"Your Majesty, you're finally awake," Ambrose greeted her warmly. Then he introduced the woman beside him. "Allow me to introduce Lady Rose, Queen of the Umbral Depths."

Black Rose offered Catherine a polite smile, though there was no warmth in her eyes.

𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Catherine returned the courtesy, though inwardly she was stunned.

Black Rose, the undead queen of the Umbral Depths. Catherine had never met her in person, but she certainly knew of her by reputation.

Because her kingdom stood beside the subterranean Sea of Mercury, she also had the moniker of Silver Queen. Tales of Black Rose's power and ruthlessness circulated throughout all of the Nine Kingdoms.

Why had this lich invited her here?

Ambrose had surely summoned her deliberately.

Catherine's charm was simply too powerful. Even a gold-obsessed lich like Ambrose had been seriously affected. His soul was a male's, after all, which only amplified the effect. Continuing negotiations alone risked costly mistakes. To Ambrose, losing potential profit was nothing short of torture.

To spare himself future regret, he had invited Black Rose to attend the negotiations.

She was also a lich, and her soul was a female's. She would clearly be more resistant to Catherine's charm. Besides, Ambrose had no intention of keeping all the elven benefits to himself; he would have to share with the members of the Elegiac Society anyway. Letting Black Rose handle the negotiations was simply efficient. He had already disclosed his minimum offer to her, and he trusted she would not betray her own people.

Catherine said courteously, "Lady Rose! I've long heard of you. Building an undead kingdom from scratch is a truly admirable achievement."

Black Rose replied just as politely, "You flatter me, Queen Catherine. You are an idol of women across the continent."

"So you and Master Megaman are friends? I apologize for interrupting your visit."

"Not at all. It was precisely because of your arrival that he asked me for a favor. He has charged me with negotiations regarding the elven prisoners."

Catherine glanced at Black Rose, thinking that the old elven king's intelligence had been correct after all. These two liches surely belonged to the same organization. Otherwise, no matter how important a handful of elven prisoners were, it would never warrant the personal involvement of the undead queen.

Catherine had no desire to negotiate with Black Rose. She had already prepared a strategy tailored to Ambrose; changing opponents now meant all that preparation had been wasted.

"Master Megaman," she said, "have I offended you somehow yesterday, that you would hand the initiative to someone else?"

Ambrose smiled. "Lady Rose is not 'someone else.' I trust her completely. And it has nothing to do with yesterday's discussion. I have private matters to attend to today and cannot remain at the castle. Lady Rose has my full authority to represent me."

Catherine did not believe his excuse, but she had no grounds to refuse.

Time was pressing. She could not afford to wait until Ambrose felt like negotiating again. Who knew how long he would stall?

"In that case," Catherine said, "I hope to reach an agreement with Lady Rose today."

"Of course," Black Rose replied smoothly. "As long as the price is right. I believe we may be able to adjust the offer that you two agreed on yesterday."

"A correction, if you please. We reached no such agreement yesterday. A ransom of twenty million gold per prisoner is completely unacceptable. This ludicrous offer lacks any sincerity."

"The elves would not care about such a trivial sum," Black Rose countered. "Your accumulated wealth could buy out the whole continent. That is common knowledge."

"Wealth should not be squandered," Catherine replied. "That fortune was built by generations of elves. I merely safeguard it. I have no right to accept such an unreasonable price."

"But dragging this out only harms you," Black Rose said calmly. "We undead do not eat, but these elves do. Their daily upkeep costs add up. Delay longer, and the price will only rise."

......

The continent's only two reigning queens sat facing one another, smiles on their lips and calm in their voices. Yet the negotiation edged closer and closer to collapse.

Each time it nearly broke down, both sides would retreat in unspoken agreement, chatting instead about governance or fashion. Once the atmosphere softened, another round of sparring began.

Ambrose listened for only a short while before decisively leaving the room. Black Rose was performing admirably, seemingly unaffected by Catherine at all.

If Ambrose stayed any longer, he feared he might start siding with Catherine again—and that would likely end his cooperation with Black Rose altogether.

Professional matters should be left to professionals. Besides, he truly did have business to attend to.

The dwarves had sent word that infernal demons had once again appeared near the ruins of Alkhemia. If not for their newly established temporary camp, the demons might have launched an attack directly.

Something was wrong. The demons were appearing far too frequently. This was no isolated incident—it suggested a Lord of Hell was preparing an invasion. Unless the mastermind were dealt with, the demonic incursion would never end.

But the Lords of Hell possessed power close to that of gods, and their true bodies were hidden deep in Hell. If they were easy to kill, the gods would have exterminated them long ago.

Ambrose alone could not handle a Hell Lord. He would need to call on a superior force.

"If I publicly claim that a Hell Lord is massacring humans," he mused, "would the Lyon Empire send troops? Moral pressure works wonders on paladins with actual morals..."

Turning over schemes in his mind, Ambrose flew toward the ruins of Alkhemia. No matter what, the first step was clear: he would have to capture a few demons and find out which Hell Lord was behind all of this.