"Deal." His thumb swept across her shoulder before he let go and turned toward the screaming skeleton. "Berry, you’re on dessert prep. Rogue.."

"I’M READY FOR ANYTHING."

"Stand somewhere I can’t see you."

"That’s...that’s favouritism."

Berry was already cracking her knuckles. "Liam has taste."

"Exactly." Liam stepped forward, his Vulcan Gauntlet beginning to glow. "Hey, Bone-Daddy! Over here!"

The Mini Lich shrieked in outrage and pointed its staff at a beam of frozen light shot toward Liam.

Liam didn’t dodge; he caught the beam not with his shield but with his Black Iron Heavy Skillet, which he’d pulled from his inventory. The frost hit the metal, coating it in a perfect, crystalline layer of soul-ice.

"What... what are you doing?" the Lich stammered, its glowing eye-sockets widening.

"I needed a dry aging environment for this Serpent meat," Liam grumbled, stepping closer. He used [Bull Rush], but instead of a shoulder-check, he used the momentum to slam the black-Iron Skillet down over the Lich’s head, effectively caging the tiny necromancer, "Stay there, good boy."

"I AM THE KING OF THE DEAD! NOT A KITCHEN APPLIANCE!"

What do Lich monsters eat? Do I need to feed him or walk him? Maybe one of those backpack harnesses with the little leg holes, Liam Thought.

"You’re whatever I say you are until your mana bar hits zero," Liam said.

He turned to Elizabeth.

She was standing there, mouth open. Pink hair dusted with frost crystals. Her cat ears pressed flat, not from fear, but from sheer incomprehension. Her sword hung loose at her side like she’d forgotten she was holding it.

"Help me tie him to the Skillet and maybe to Rogue? I need his aura at a constant negative twenty degrees for the next ten minutes."

"WHY ME?" Rogue shouted.

You seem about the same height, so it should be easy to keep track of him.

Elizabeth stared at the Lich, which was currently flailing its tiny skeletal arms through the bars of the rack, accidentally flash freezing the serpent meat Liam had hung on the outside.

"You’re actually using a Lich to dry-age seafood," she said, a dry, hysterical laugh escaping her.

"Rogue’s stream is never going to believe this. If the stream was on, we’d be banned for animal or undead cruelty."

"It’s not cruelty, it’s efficiency, and think of it this way, he had no home, and now he has a home!" Liam argued, tightening the leather straps around the Lich.

The Lich screamed. Liam ignored it.

She looks beautiful when she’s confused, or maybe that’s just the frostbite setting in. I should probably finish this before her ears actually freeze off.

"I AM STILL TRAPPED UNDER A COOKING IMPLEMENT," the Lich screamed from behind them. "THIS IS A VIOLATION OF THE GENEVA CONVENTION OF THE UNDEAD!"

"There’s no Geneva Convention for undead," Berry called back cheerfully.

"THERE SHOULD BE!"

"Rogue, sit on the skillet," Liam said, not turning around. Not taking his hands off Elizabeth’s ears.

"That seems like a health code violation," Rogue said.

"We don’t have a health code, we are in another world, game thing, whatever."

Elizabeth laughed.

"You’re weird," she said. Quiet. Looking up at him with frost-damp lashes and that confused furrow between her brows that made him want to smooth it with his thumb. "You know that, right? You’re really, genuinely weird."

"Ten minutes on the dry age," he said, turning back toward the Lich. His pulse was doing an unfamiliar thing faster, heavier, concentrated in his throat. "Then we eat."

"Berry, check the frost layer. It should be crystallising evenly now."

"Need even coverage or the meat gets freezer burn."

The Lich glared up at him through the skillet bars. "The tiger likes you, you absolute moron."

"You’re a refrigerator," Liam said. "Refrigerators don’t talk."

"I HAVE A DOCTORATE IN NECROMANCY, YOU INSUFFERABLE!"

"Shh..You’ll ruin the aging process."

The mini Lich wept.

Ten minutes felt like an eternity, but it ended up being okay, and no one got frostbite, but Rogue was determined that he did.

Liam thought he hadn’t even tried my new pet yet, he side stared the tiny lich, maybe just one bone?

"I’m telling you, my toes are black," Rogue chattered, his breath coming out in frantic puffs.

"I’ve lost them. I’m a nine-toed scout. My career is over."

"You have ten toes, Rogue. I just checked your HUD, don’t worry, your secret relationship with spring will be fine." Liam said, his voice flat. He was currently busy with a pair of silver tongs, rotating the Serpent meat

"I AM NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH THAT FOOT GUY!" Rogue exploded.

"Liam," Elizabeth whispered, stepping closer to the "refrigerator" setup.

The frost on her lashes had melted into dew, making her eyes look even wider.

"It’s glowing meat shouldn’t glow blue unless it’s about to explode."

"It’s not exploding, it’s stabilising, I think," Liam explained.

Liam carved the first translucent slice and plopped it into his mouth.

Suddenly, the golden light of the System began to bleed through the blue frost. The air in the chamber didn’t just feel cold anymore; it felt warm.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: NEW RECIPE DISCOVERED]

Recipe Name: Lich Cured Serpent Jerky (The Cold Comfort)

Classification: High-Tier / Soul-Cured

Flavour Profile: Menthol-Spice, Sub-Zero Salt, and Ancient Regret.

Chef’s Note: "The secret ingredient is the tears of a doctorate-holding tiny necromancer."

[BUFFS UNLOCKED: 10,000x SOUL CHILL STASIS]

Absolute Zero Resistance: Liam gains 10,000x resistance to Ice and Water damage. He can now walk through -100°C environments as if they were strolling through a summer meadow.

Graveyard Sovereign: Instead of swimming, this soul-infused version grants +10,000% Physical Damage against Undead.

Phase-Shift Lunge (Elizabeth Only): Her rapier now ignores 500% of Undead Physical Defence.

[TOOL TIP: THE BONE-CHILLED SASHIMI]

Status: Cryo-Stasis Achieved.

The "Fridge" Logic: By using a Mini Lich’s localised Blizzard Channel as a dry-aging environment, Liam has bypassed 100 hours of curing time.

Feeding and Walking: In response to Liam’s internal question No, you don’t walk a Lich. You harness it to your backpack like a tactical freezer. If it gets cranky, just threaten to use it as a panini press.