Gustavo Flynn had no idea what kind of existence he was facing.

Even though Black Rose was dressed like a noblewoman, years spent in an environment where intellectuals held absolute superiority had left Gustavo Flynn utterly indifferent to nobility.

Experience had shaped him this way. Lacking respect for the nobility, he naturally couldn't differentiate among them, nor identify the origin of the garments she wore.

Had he been from Lyon, he would have turned and fled at once.

Those black roses and skeletal insignia were the exclusive mark of the undead queen of the Umbral Depths.

By the time his ear began to itch, it was already too late.

Gustavo Flynn instinctively reached up to scratch it, only to tear off his entire right ear.

He stared in disbelief at the ear in his hand. It was riddled with rot, as though it had been cut from a corpse dead for days.

Before he could even determine whether this was some illusion, the rotting ear suddenly split open, revealing a mouth full of jagged teeth that snapped viciously at his fingers.

The searing pain made him fling the ear away. This time, there was no doubt that it was real.

Warm blood streamed from the wound where his ear had been, staining half his face red.

Yet Gustavo Flynn did not panic. He fixed his gaze on Black Rose and demanded, "What did you do?"

She replied coldly, "If you can't understand what I'm saying, then you don't need ears."

Gustavo Flynn clenched his right hand. The ring on his index finger flared with light, and his missing ear regenerated instantly.

"I didn't want to bother arguing with a woman," he said icily, "but now that I've been forced to act, that lich can hardly blame me for laying hands on his woman."

He raised his left hand. Another ring lit up.

Black Rose felt her body stiffen as an overwhelming force pressed down on her, compelling her to collapse to the ground in submission.

A Compulsion spell?

She recognized the enchantment immediately. Her body dissolved into a cloud of black mist as she slipped free of the spell.

By the next instant, she had drifted up to the second-floor corridor, where she could look down at him from above.

Gustavo Flynn's expression barely changed, but fury burned within him. Today, he would make this woman pay.

A glass vial appeared in his hand. He hurled it upward.

Before it could even shatter, it blazed orange in midair, then exploded with a thunderous boom.

Flames and shards of glass surged upward, as if guided by an unseen force, all aimed at Black Rose.

She flicked her hand casually, freezing the fire and fragments in midair as if time itself had stopped. Then she looked down at him again.

Gustavo Flynn suddenly felt numbness spreading through his body, but this time, not from his ear. It was his chest.

Something was wrong. What kind of spell was this? His robes were designed to block most forms of magic.

On top of that, he was a master of enchantment. He carried over thirty enchanted items. If she had cast a spell on him, his counterspell necklace should have activated.

Light flickered wildly as he triggered several items to dispel abnormal conditions. It was useless. The numbness would fade briefly, only to return again moments later.

If he couldn't dispel the effect outright, then he'd eliminate her first.

But just as Gustavo Flynn was about to act, a black-haired young man appeared before him in a flash.

Ambrose smiled warmly. "My dear Flynn, old friend, why are you fighting in my house?"

It would have been strange if Ambrose hadn't noticed such a loud explosion.

"Good timing," Gustavo Flynn replied. "Otherwise, you'd be looking for a new lover."

Ambrose glanced at Black Rose, then back at him. "Wait. You think she's my lover? Do you even know who she is?"

Gustavo Flynn shrugged. "A necromancer, I assume. I don't know much about the art, but she was acting like the lady of the house. She's clearly not just anyone."

Ambrose sighed, then leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

Gustavo Flynn's eyes widened in shock, disbelief flashing across his face.

Ambrose patted him on the shoulder. "Relax. I've got this. Let's find somewhere quiet to talk."

Then he turned to Black Rose. "Lady Rose, my work is finished. The item is in the laboratory."

With that, he dragged a stiff, silent Gustavo Flynn away, weaving through the corridors of the castle until they reached a secluded corner.

Ambrose smiled. "You can breathe now."

Gustavo Flynn shot him a glare. He had been startled upon learning her identity, but not to the point of forgetting how to breathe. The damned lich was clearly mocking him.

"Don't glare at me," Ambrose said lightly. "I did just save your life."

"Hmph. I might not have died."

"Want to give it another try?"

Gustavo Flynn wisely chose not to respond. When it came to verbal sparring, he was no match for this lich, and only a fool would pick a fight with that queen.

Even though there was little direct contact between Alkhemia and the Umbral Depths, he had heard tell of her prowess.

She was an undead sovereign who had survived multiple purges by Lyon, a conqueror who had nearly driven the drow to extinction. The gnomes and dwarves of the Depths had already submitted to her, reduced to nothing more than her slaves. Years ago, she had even launched a surprise assault on the imperial capital of Lyon, laying siege to it with two hundred thousand undead.

According to historical records, she had slain three hundred paladins with nothing but her gaze, turning them into her undead servants. The defenders had been forced into a desperate siege for fifteen days. If not for the timely return of the Silvermoon Knight, the capital might have fallen.

Rumors said she had been gravely wounded in that battle. Some even claimed she perished after returning to the Umbral Depths. But thirty years later, she reappeared, reclaiming her kingdom and slaughtering the drow who had taken it, reminding the world that the queen had returned.

If he had known her identity from the start, Gustavo Flynn would have turned around immediately.

But now, it was too late. He had no intention of remaining in the same castle as that terrifying being any longer. "Hmph. I don't have time to waste," he said. "I came here for business. You like gold, so let's skip the nonsense. I want Isabel to support me in tomorrow's election. Name your price."

Ambrose replied casually, "Oh, that? Easy. Ten billion gold."

"Can you be serious?"

If he had ten billion, he could simply bribe everyone outright.

"I am serious," Ambrose said. "Chairman of the Alchemists' Council—think about what that used to be worth. Ten billion is cheap."

Gustavo Flynn suppressed his anger. "Do you really think the Council is what it used to be?"

"If it isn't," Ambrose countered, "why do you want to be chairman?"

That question caught him off guard.

Ambrose continued, "Flynn, we've known each other for years. Among the alchemists of Alkhemia, you've always been the most ambitious. The previous chairman pursued knowledge to madness, but you? You just want power and status."

"What are you getting at?"

Gustavo Flynn narrowed his eyes. There was more behind these words.

"I'm saying, why not think bigger?" Ambrose said. "What's the Alchemists' Council compared to becoming the chosen of the God of Alchemy?"

Gustavo Flynn gave him a look of utter disdain.

"Do you even hear what you're saying? The chosen of the God of Alchemy? When has that god ever cared about us? How can you come up with something this absurd?"

The seven divine towers above Alkhemia stood as monuments to their humiliation. That god had never issued a single oracle nor aided a single alchemist. Instead, he only intervened to destroy their work when they approached true greatness.

And now this lich was suggesting serving such a god?

"I know you all resent the God of Alchemy," Ambrose said calmly. "And yes, he rarely communicates. But gods are like that, cryptic by nature. Alchemists and the God of Alchemy are inseparable. Instead of holding grudges, why not cooperate?"

"What exactly do you want from me?"

Gustavo Flynn realized he understood this lich less than ever. Even after all these years, Ambrose could still surprise him.

"Simple," Ambrose said. "You become Chairman. In return, help me revive alchemy. Every nation depends on alchemical products, we both know that. But if we want to restore alchemy quickly, we need to work together."

Ambrose's original plan had been straightforward: build his own alchemical industry, flood the continent with his products, and gradually revitalize the field.

But upon returning, he discovered that Isabel had developed a new Potion of Youth and had already gained some reputation out of it.

That changed everything. He had the technology. He had new formulas. What he lacked was means of large-scale production and distribution.

It was as if Fate had delivered him the perfect partner.

Gustavo Flynn's status, connections, and expertise was exactly what he needed. With Flynn's cooperation, Ambrose could shave years off his plan.

Now all he needed was for Flynn to agree.

"Will you support my bid for chairman?" Gustavo Flynn asked.

"Of course," Ambrose said. "The ten billion was just a joke. You weren't actually going to pay that, right?"

Gustavo Flynn felt a flicker of relief. Maybe this lich had finally become reasonable.

Then Ambrose added, "Ten billion was a joke, but thirty million gold? That's a fair price."