NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7: Alchemy Department
The morning light filtered dimly through the thick mist blanketing the Monastery's grounds, casting long, shifting shadows that moved like restless spirits. I stirred from my simple bed, my mind still swimming in the lingering clarity of cultivation from the previous night. The sharpness of the air seemed to amplify my senses, a reminder of the strength flowing through my newly attuned meridians.
My stomach growled—a mundane but insistent reminder that even cultivators—or at least weak ones—were bound to earthly needs. Rising, I brushed off the faint stiffness in my limbs and dressed in the modest robes of an outer disciple. The morning was cool, and the faint hum of activity from outside signaled that the Monastery was already alive with motion.
The dining hall was a hive of movement and chatter, a stark contrast to the solemn quiet of the night. Outer disciples, most looking worn from their daily struggles, lined up to exchange Spirit Stones for meal tickets. The aroma of spiced rice and steamed vegetables filled the air, cutting through the tension that seemed to permeate the hall.
I stood in line, observing the people around me. Some wore their exhaustion openly, their eyes hollow from sleepless nights spent failing to make progress in their cultivation. Others radiated confidence, their animated conversations filled with talk of breakthroughs and opportunities. It was easy to tell who was advancing and who was stagnating in this harsh hierarchy.
When my turn came, I handed over a few Spirit Stones, securing a meal ticket that would last me a week. A simple, practical purchase. My needs were basic, and efficiency was paramount. I ate quickly, focusing on the muted conversations around me. Fragments of discussions about faction recruitment, missions, and sect politics painted a vivid picture of life in the Monastery. Progress here was not just about cultivating strength; it was about accumulating resources, connections, and influence.
After finishing my meal, I decided to explore the Monastery further. The grounds were sprawling, with structures varying from simple training arenas to imposing towers. My feet eventually brought me to one of the most intriguing locations I had seen since my arrival: the Abyssal Archive. Its towering black stone structure loomed over the central district of the Monastery, exuding an air of mystery and authority.
The entrance was flanked by two stern disciples clad in dark robes. Their sharp eyes scanned me briefly before stepping aside. Inside, the Archive was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from faintly glowing inscriptions etched into the walls. Shelves of scrolls and tomes stretched into the shadows, their ancient bindings emanating a faint hum of residual Qi.
I paid the modest entry fee, knowing that only the lower floors were accessible to outer disciples like me. While the knowledge stored here was foundational, it was still a treasure trove for someone like me, eager to piece together this world's fragmented truths. I selected a tome detailing the planet's geography and settled into a quiet corner to read.
"Umbra Nova is a planet of remarkable contrasts, its diverse environments shaped by a unique rotation that divides the world into two distinct hemispheres. The Noctis Verge, or shadow hemisphere, is perpetually shrouded in darkness, a land of danger and untamed wilderness, home to ferocious beasts and shadow-path cultivators. Opposite lies the Lumen Reach, a hemisphere perpetually bathed in light, with a far larger population of cultivators, traders, and scholars. The two hemispheres are separated by the Veilt Belt, an aurora-laden strip visible from the surface, which acts as both a physical and symbolic divide."
"The cultures and philosophies of these hemispheres couldn't be more different. The light-path sects of Lumen Reach emphasize harmony and enlightenment, while the shadow-path sects of Noctis Verge embrace strength and survival. This stark opposition has bred an enduring animosity. Both sides are fiercely territorial, and the transition points along the Veilt Belt are heavily fortified by the Overlords of each hemisphere, making crossing between them perilous."
Interesting. I mused as I absorbed the information. Umbra Nova is a planet divided not just by geography but by ideologies. It's almost cliché that light and dark oppose each other so strongly. Yet, despite their enmity, there seems to be a balance—neither side has conquered the other. I wonder if light-path cultivators could even thrive, let alone win, in the shadow hemisphere? And would shadow-path users fare any better in the light?
I continued reading.
"The planet's age is unknown, but its vast size has been calculated. Umbra Nova's diameter measures an astonishing 130,000 kilometers, with a circumference of 400,000 kilometers. Nine-tenths of the planet's surface is split evenly between the two hemispheres, while the remaining tenth is the Veilt Belt."
The numbers staggered me. This planet is ten times larger than Earth. I paused to consider the scale. Even this single hemisphere, Noctis Verge, is nearly five times the size of Earth. And the Veilt Belt alone, acting as a mere border, is as large as my entire home planet. Astonishing.
Further along, the text listed the major regions of the shadow hemisphere: Obsidian Highlands, Obsidian Spire, Whispering Marshes, Ebonshade Forest, Abyssal Chasm, Midnight Veil Plateau, Phantom Rift Lake, Umbral Sanctum, Shrouded Canyons, Blackflame Wastes, and Nocturnis Vale.
Each of these vast territories, it seemed, was a world unto itself, with unique environments, sects, and mysteries.
"So, Nocturnis Vale is just one of many such regions," I murmured, intrigued. "And the Nightshade Monastery rules this region as its Overlord. Each territory must have its own overlords, secrets, and dangers, much of which remains unknown. What a peculiar world."
The mention of regions sent my thoughts wandering briefly to the potential power dynamics and rivalries that must exist between them, but I refocused on the text.
I flipped to a section on Nocturnis Vale specifically, eager to learn more about my current surroundings.
"The Nocturnis Vale is a vast, shadowed expanse dominated by perpetual twilight. The skies above are veiled in swirling gray clouds, with sunlight only shining briefly. Situated in the eastern reaches of Noctis Verge, the region pulses with ambient shadow Qi, a lifeblood for those aligned with darkness and shadows. Under the dominion of the Nightshade Monastery, the Vale is home to sects, villages, and ruins, its diverse landscape ranging from jagged mountains to eerie marshlands and wind-swept plateaus."
I read on, absorbing the descriptions of prominent locations within the Vale. There are cities like Blackveil City, a bustling urban hub serving as the region's trade and cultural center. Nearby from the Monastery, there are Veil Caves, a labyrinthine network of tunnels teeming with shadow-infused resources and danger.
The text offered more brief summaries of other locations before diving into greater detail. Each place carried a mix of opportunity and peril, promising riches for the brave—or death for the unprepared.
Having committed the details to memory, I turned to other tomes, briefly skimming sections on medicine and alchemy. While the information was valuable, it was clear that these texts only offered surface-level knowledge. The deeper, more critical techniques were undoubtedly reserved for higher-ranked disciples or locked within more secure sections of the Monastery.
Still, the knowledge was useful. I had gleaned enough to feel confident that my understanding of this world now exceeded that of most outer disciples. Knowledge, after all, was a weapon of its own.
The allotted time in the Archive was drawing to a close. I returned the books to their places, taking one last moment to reflect. This foundation will suffice for now, I thought. The more I know, the better prepared I am to navigate the challenges ahead. With this, I can blend in seamlessly while setting my plans in motion.
The faint chime signaling the end of the session echoed through the Archive, and I rose from my seat, stepping out into the cool, shadowed air of the Nocturnis Vale.
Leaving the Archive, my thoughts turned to the practical realities of life here. Progress within the Monastery clearly required more than cultivation alone. Resources were the true currency of advancement. Spirit Stones, manuals, weapons, and tools—all of it demanded money or merit. My current reserves were woefully inadequate.
Conning others crossed my mind briefly, but I dismissed it as a shortsighted option. Drawing the ire of disciples or elders would bring problems I wasn't ready to deal with. Missions seemed like a logical choice, but most of the ones listed on the Mission Board required a higher cultivation stage than mine. The remaining tasks—cleaning, assisting with basic chores, or manual labor—were tedious and offered only enough compensation to survive, not thrive.
That left the factions.
The Smithing Faction, with its roaring furnaces and rhythmic hammering, seemed practical but unappealing. The work was physically demanding and lacked subtlety. The Talisman Faction, though more intriguing, required mastery of spiritual inscriptions and arrays—a highly specialized skillset.
That left medicine and alchemy.
Medicine had its advantages. My experience healing Zi Tu's son gave me a foundation to work from, and the practical applications of healing techniques could open doors. But alchemy promised something more. The potential to refine pills not only for profit but also for my own cultivation was a lure I couldn't ignore. The challenge of mastering a complex craft intrigued me even more.
I made my decision and headed for the Alchemy Department.
As I made my way to the Alchemy Department, my thoughts drifted back to the wealth of knowledge I had absorbed from the Archive. Alchemy, an ancient and revered practice, stood as a fusion of precise technique and spiritual mastery. Its practitioners wielded not only fire and Qi but also an intricate understanding of medicinal properties, refining raw ingredients into potent pills that could bolster cultivation, heal grievous injuries, or even aid in breakthroughs to higher realms.
While some sects dedicated themselves entirely to the craft of alchemy, the Nightshade Monastery's Alchemy Department served a crucial function within the sect, equipping disciples with resources indispensable to their growth and survival. From basic Qi Replenishing pills to rare concoctions that could mend shattered meridians, the department was a cornerstone of the Monastery's operations.
The book I had studied outlined the fundamentals of pill grades. This system categorized pills based on their impurities, which directly affected their efficacy and safety. While the text hinted at grades beyond what was described, only three were detailed.
Low-grade pills are the worst grade, with impurities exceeding 80%. Commonly used by beginners or mortals, they provided limited effects and often came with side effects such as Qi imbalance or mild toxicity. These pills were rudimentary but necessary for those unable to afford better alternatives.
Next were mid-grade pills, with impurities falling below 80% but exceeding 60%. These were the standard for outer disciples—functional but far from optimal. While they offered mild benefits, their inefficiencies made them a stepping stone rather than a long-term solution.
Finally, the book described high-grade pills, those with impurities below 60%. These pills, prized by inner disciples, delivered reliable effects with moderate safety. They represented the benchmark for practical use among serious cultivators. However, not all pills can reach higher grades. Some formulas were inherently flawed, while others relied on inferior ingredients, capping their potential.
The ranks of alchemists were similarly structured, reflecting their ability to consistently refine pills of varying grades. Each rank was more than just a title—it was a testament to skill, experience, and dedication, marked by the insignia they wore on their robes.
At the base was the Novice Alchemist, denoted by a simple black flame insignia. Novices were apprentices in every sense, tasked with ingredient preparation and refining the most basic pills. Their work was often riddled with inefficiencies and impurities, but it was a necessary stage of growth.
Above them stood the Apprentice Alchemists, whose insignia bore a silver flame. These individuals had proven their ability to refine mid-grade pills with reasonable consistency. Apprentices were the backbone of alchemical operations, producing the bulk of pills consumed by outer disciples.
The next rank was the Journeyman Alchemist, represented by a golden flame insignia. Journeymen were artisans in their craft, capable of creating high-grade pills with efficiency and precision. Their mastery extended beyond basic formulas, allowing them to experiment with complex recipes and tackle challenging refinement tasks.
These ranks weren't bestowed lightly. To ascend, an alchemist had to not only demonstrate their ability to refine pills of the requisite grade but also pass rigorous tests designed to measure their skill under pressure.
How far I can go remains to be seen, I thought as I approached the Alchemy Department's imposing structure, its chimneys releasing plumes of fragrant smoke. The hum of activity within was audible even from the outside—a symphony of grinding herbs, roaring furnaces, and the faint crackle of Qi infused flames.
I paused at the entrance, observing the ebb and flow of disciples clad in robes adorned with their respective insignias. The black flame of the novices was most common, followed by the occasional silver flames of apprentices. Golden flames were much rarer, reserved for the Journeymen, who commanded respect and deference wherever they walked.
The reception area was tucked neatly near the entrance of the Alchemy Department, a small but well-organized space where disciples and visitors alike gathered to make inquiries or register. Behind the polished wooden desk stood a young woman, no older than twenty, with striking features that drew immediate attention. Her calm demeanor and sharp eyes gave her an air of quiet authority, but what truly caught my eye was her attire. She wore the uniform of an inner sect disciple, its fine embroidery marking her elevated status, and pinned to her robe was the unmistakable black flame insignia, identifying her as a Novice Alchemist.
As I approached, she greeted me with a warm smile, her voice melodic yet professional. "Hello, junior brother. How can I help you today?"
I clasped my right hand into a fist, my left hand covering it, and bowed slightly—a gesture I had learned to be the appropriate greeting when addressing higher-ranked disciples or sect members. "I am here to register for the Alchemy Department," I said, my tone respectful but direct.
The young woman's smile brightened as I finished the respectful bow. Her expression was welcoming, but her sharp eyes hinted at the meticulous attention to detail expected of a Novice Alchemist.
"Registering for the Alchemy Department, are you?" she asked warmly. "You've chosen a demanding but rewarding path, junior brother. Let me guide you through the process."
She gestured for me to step closer and retrieved a sleek black ledger from beneath the counter, its shadow-leather cover glinting faintly under the dim light. Flipping to an empty page, she dipped her quill into a pot of dark ink.
"Name and cultivation stage?" she asked, quill poised.
"Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Qi Condensation Stage One," I replied evenly.
Her hand froze mid-motion, and she looked up sharply, her brows furrowing in mild disbelief. "Stage One?" she repeated, her tone edged with surprise. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before softening slightly. "Forgive me, but... are you new? You don't seem familiar."
I nodded, answering truthfully. "Yes. I took the entrance examination yesterday and officially began as an outer disciple the same day."
Her jaw slackened slightly as she stared at me, trying to process my words. "Yesterday?" she echoed, her voice dropping into disbelief. "You broke through to the first stage of Qi Condensation in a single day? That's..." She trailed off, struggling to reconcile what she'd just heard.
"Unusual?" I offered.
"Unusual doesn't even begin to describe it," she said, her surprise now tinged with a hint of admiration. "It normally takes weeks—sometimes months—for most new disciples to achieve their first breakthrough after joining the Monastery. Even then, their cultivation is often unstable, requiring further refinement to stabilize their foundation. Yet..."
Her gaze turned analytical, as if searching for any sign of instability in my presence. After a moment, she shook her head, incredulous. "Your cultivation stage feels perfectly stable. You've already consolidated your foundation? That's remarkable."
I remained silent, my expression neutral. Her reaction was understandable, but I saw no reason to elaborate.
She exhaled softly, composing herself. "Well, I suppose the Monastery's standards haven't slipped, have they? It seems they've recruited quite the talent this time." Her smile returned, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in her eyes. "Let's continue."
She resumed writing, her quill scratching briskly across the ledger's page. Once finished, she retrieved two items from beneath the counter and placed them before me: a midnight-blue manual and a thick, silver-edged journal.
Her fingers moved to the journal, her tone growing more serious. "This journal is your most important resource for the time being. Inside, you'll find detailed information on 1,000 different plants and ingredients commonly used in alchemy. You'll need to memorize every entry—their appearances, how to differentiate them from similar species, proper preparation methods, refinement times, and optimal temperatures. Precision is everything in alchemy. A single mistake can ruin an entire batch of pills or worse."
I flipped open the journal briefly, my eyes scanning the dense, meticulously arranged entries. The sheer amount of information was daunting, but something about the challenge intrigued me.
"You're allowed as much time as you need to study and memorize the contents," she continued. "When you feel ready, you may take the examination. Passing it is mandatory to become a full member of the Alchemy Department. Be warned—it's not easy. Most disciples require multiple attempts before they pass. The exam isn't just about memorization; it's designed to test your understanding and your ability to apply what you've learned."
"Understood," I said, closing the journal with a faint thud. Its weight was substantial, both literally and metaphorically.
She studied me for a moment longer, her expression softening into one of cautious encouragement. "You're clearly gifted, junior brother. But don't underestimate this process. Alchemy demands patience and diligence as much as talent. Good luck."
"Thank you, senior sister," I replied, bowing once more before stepping away from the counter.
As I walked into the broader halls of the Alchemy Department, the air grew heavier with the scent of herbs and the faint metallic tang of Qi-laden flames. Disciples moved with purpose, their robes adorned with insignias marking their ranks. The black flame of Novice Alchemists was most common, but I spotted a few silver-outlined flames denoting Apprentices.
Finding a quiet corner, I first opened the manual I received. It contained foundational information, much of which I already knew from the Archive. However, the sections on refining processes, alchemical tools, and advanced techniques introduced me to new insights. The detailed explanations of the furnace types, flame controls, and Qi infusion methods provided a clearer picture of how each step contributed to the final product.
Satisfied with my initial reading, I turned to the journal. Flipping to the first page, I found the details of the first entry arranged:
1. Shadowmint Leaf
Appearance: Thin, serrated leaves with a faint silver sheen under shadow Qi.
Differentiation: Shadowmint feels cooler to the touch than ordinary mint and emits a faint black vapor when crushed.
Processing: Grind within 15 minutes of harvesting to preserve potency.
Ideal refinement temperature: 85°C for 30 seconds.
Uses: Commonly used in Qi Restoration Pills and calming salves.
2. Phantomroot
3. Ebonthorn Berry
The depth of detail was staggering, yet as I read, I began to see patterns—visual cues, preparation methods, and processing techniques.
I continued to read the journal.
997. Wraithvine Tendril
998. Dusklotus Petal
1000. Abyssal Emberroot.
I exhaled slightly as I closed the journal, my mind buzzing with the sheer volume of information I had absorbed. I quickly organized all the newly learned information in my head. My mental discipline and innate analytical abilities allowed me to parse and retain knowledge efficiently.
Rising from the quiet corner, I tucked the journal securely under my arm and made my way back to the reception desk. The young woman was still seated there, her focus on a scroll she was meticulously copying. She looked up as I approached, her expression curious.
"Back so soon, junior brother?" she asked with a faint smile.
I nodded. "I'd like to take the examination," I said calmly.
Her brows lifted, her surprise evident. "The examination? You've only been here an hour since your initial registration."
"That's correct," I replied evenly.
For a moment, she simply stared, as if trying to gauge whether I was overconfident or simply reckless. Then her lips quirked into a wry smile. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that. Most disciples spend weeks, sometimes months, studying the journal before attempting the test. But... very well. Follow me."
She rose gracefully from her seat, motioning for me to follow her as she led me through the corridors of the Alchemy Department. The faint hum of activity faded behind us as we approached a small, quiet room with a single desk and an array of alchemical tools.
Turning to me, she said, "The examination is conducted in two parts: identification and application. You'll first be presented with a series of ingredients, some with minor variations, and you'll need to correctly identify and differentiate them. The second part will involve demonstrating your knowledge of preparation techniques. Do you understand?"
I nodded. "Understood."
She gestured to the table, where several containers and samples were neatly arranged in a meticulous line. Each sample rested in its own compartment, some nestled in clear crystal jars, others displayed openly on polished black trays. The faint aroma of crushed herbs and earthy roots lingered in the air, intermingling with the metallic tang of Qi infused tools.
"Begin whenever you're ready," she said, stepping back with her hands clasped in front of her. Her expression was professional, but there was a flicker of curiosity and doubt in her sharp eyes, as if she wasn't entirely convinced of my earlier claim.
I nodded and stepped forward, my gaze sweeping over the table. The samples were arranged in order of increasing complexity, the first few being straightforward for even a novice to recognize. But as my eyes moved further down the line, the ingredients grew more intricate, their similarities and variations far more nuanced.
I began with the first sample.
The thin, serrated leaves shimmered faintly under the dim light, their edges exuding a faint silver sheen. Picking one up, I crushed it lightly between my fingers, feeling its cool texture and observing the faint black vapor that rose as I applied pressure.
"Shadowmint Leaf," I said confidently, my voice steady.
The young woman nodded subtly, her quill scratching across the scroll in her hand as she recorded my answer.
I moved to the next sample.
The gnarled root was twisted and streaked with black and purple lines, its surface faintly pulsing with light when I infused it with a small pulse of shadow Qi. Its lack of the metallic odor associated with similar roots confirmed its identity.
"Phantomroot," I said, placing it back carefully.
The young woman's quill moved again, her expression remaining neutral.
The next few samples were similarly straightforward.
I picked up one of the dark, glowing berries, rolling it between my fingers to gauge its density. A quick, careful taste of a minuscule piece left a faint tingling sensation on my tongue. "Ebonthorn Berry."
The silver-veined tendril glimmered faintly, emitting a low whistle as I passed a slight breeze of Qi over it. "Wraithvine Tendril."
The moss was dark green with black-tipped strands. When pinched, it released a faint shadowy mist. "Duskridge Moss."
The young woman continued marking my answers, her initial mild curiosity deepening into something more focused.
As I moved further along the table, the samples grew more challenging. Subtle variations and hybrid species began to appear, requiring not only knowledge but keen observation and careful testing.
Two nearly identical sets of petals sat side by side, their delicate forms nearly indistinguishable. Dusklotus petals had faint violet edges and a fragrance that intensified under shadow Qi, while Dusklily petals were uniform in color and emitted no scent when Qi was applied. Picking up one of the petals, I infused it gently with shadow Qi and noted the immediate deepening of its fragrance.
"Dusklotus Petal," I said, setting it back down.
The young woman's quill paused briefly before resuming, her brows furrowing ever so slightly.
By now, her sharp gaze rarely left me, and I could sense her scrutiny increasing with each correct answer.
Two roots sat side by side, their gnarled forms both glowing faintly with red veins. However, Abyssal Emberroot emitted a faint warmth, while Crimson Emberroot did not. Holding the root in my hand, I felt the gentle heat radiating from it.
"Abyssal Emberroot," I said confidently.
Her quill scratched furiously as she jotted down the result.
The final few samples were clearly meant to test even seasoned novices, their identities veiled in subtle cues or deliberate obscurities.
Two orchids rested side by side, their black petals adorned with intricate, almost identical patterns. The Shadowveil Orchid's markings shifted slightly under Qi, while the Shadepetal Orchid's remained static. I infused the sample with a delicate pulse of shadow Qi and observed the faint movement of its patterns.
"Shadowveil Orchid," I announced, placing the orchid back with care.
The young woman lowered her quill, glancing over her scroll with a faint frown as she double-checked her notes. Then she turned to me, her expression a mix of disbelief and growing respect.
"That's the last one," she said, her voice quiet but clear. "Flawless. You identified every single sample correctly, even the ones designed to confuse or trick you. Most disciples falter by the twelfth sample and the final five trip up nearly everyone. Yet you..."
Her words trailed off as she stared at me, her brows knitting together. "You passed without a moment's hesitation."
I met her gaze evenly, my tone calm as I replied, "Thank you, senior sister."
I inclined my head in acknowledgment, though I felt no need to rest. As she prepared the materials for the next phase, I reflected briefly on the young woman's reaction. It was clear that my performance had exceeded her expectations, further solidifying the impression I had already made.
The young woman moved efficiently, clearing away the identified ingredients and replacing them with a new set of tools and materials. A tray containing an assortment of herbs, roots, and extracts was placed in front of me, along with a small alchemical furnace, a pestle and mortar, and several measuring implements. Each item was pristine and perfectly calibrated, the faint glow of Qi infused craftsmanship evident in their flawless design.
She stood beside the table, her sharp gaze lingering on me as she gestured to the arrangement.
"For the second part of the examination, you'll demonstrate your ability to prepare ingredients for refinement," she explained, her tone measured. "Each item before you requires specific preparation—grinding, slicing, soaking, or heating. You're to follow the documented methods precisely, ensuring the ingredients are ready for use in pill refinement."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Attention to detail is critical. Even a minor error in timing or technique can render the ingredient useless—or worse, dangerous. This test will measure your understanding and precision."
I nodded, stepping forward to examine the first set of ingredients.
The familiar serrated leaves were laid out neatly, their faint silver sheen catching the dim light. I recalled the entry from the journal: grind within 15 minutes of harvesting to preserve potency.
Selecting the pestle and mortar, I carefully placed the leaves inside and began grinding them with steady, deliberate movements. The cool texture of the leaves broke down smoothly into a fine powder, releasing a faint black vapor as I worked.
Once satisfied, I measured the powder into a container and set it aside.
The young woman's quill scratched across her scroll as she took notes.
Next. The twisted root rested on the tray, its gnarled form streaked with faint purple veins. The journal had specified slicing it thinly and drying it under low heat.
Using the provided blade, I sliced the root into uniform slivers, ensuring each piece maintained its structure without fraying. Afterward, I placed the slices onto a heating tray and activated the Qi mechanism, setting the temperature to a precise 40°C.
While the slices dried, I moved to the next ingredient.
The small, dark berries emitted a faint glow under shadow Qi. The journal instructed that the berries be mashed gently to extract their juices without breaking the seeds, which could release impurities.
Taking a berry, I applied controlled pressure with the flat side of the pestle, coaxing out its juices without rupturing the seeds. The deep purple liquid pooled in the collection dish, vibrant and untainted.
The process repeated smoothly for the next several ingredients. Each step demanded focus.
By the time I reached the final ingredient, the table was littered with prepared components, each precisely processed according to its requirements.
The delicate black petals of the orchid lay spread before me, their intricate markings shifting faintly under the influence of shadow Qi. The preparation required removing the petals without damaging the central stem, followed by soaking them in a solution to stabilize their Qi resonance.
Using a pair of Qi infused tweezers, I carefully plucked each petal, ensuring none were torn or bruised. Once the petals were removed, I placed them in the provided solution, watching as their markings grew more pronounced, indicating successful stabilization.
When I finished, I stepped back, my hands clasped behind me. "The preparations are complete," I said evenly.
The young woman approached the table, her sharp gaze moving over the prepared ingredients. One by one, she inspected them, her hands moving with practiced efficiency as she examined the textures, cuts, and consistencies. She paused briefly at the Shadowveil Orchid, lifting one of the petals with the tweezers.
After a long silence, she set the petal back down and turned to me, her expression unreadable. "You didn't miss a single detail," she said, her voice quiet but tinged with disbelief. "Every ingredient is perfectly prepared, as if you've been doing this for years. Even experienced novices struggle to achieve this level of precision."
I inclined my head slightly. "Thank you, senior sister."
She exhaled, her gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before she picked up her scroll. "With this, you've passed the second part of the examination," she said, her tone carrying a hint of respect. "You've demonstrated not only your knowledge but your ability to apply it under pressure. You are now officially a member of the Alchemy Department."
She gestured for me to follow her. "Come. There's one final step before you can begin your training properly."
Curious but silent, I trailed behind her, the faint scent of herbs and Qi lingering in the air as we left the examination room.
The young woman led me through the winding halls of the Alchemy Department, her movements fluid and purposeful. The faint hum of activity surrounded us—voices murmuring instructions, the rhythmic grinding of herbs, and the soft hiss of Qi fueled flames. The air grew subtly heavier as we walked, tinged with the distinct scent of crushed leaves and the metallic tang of spirit tools.
We stopped before a pair of imposing dark wooden doors etched with shimmering violet runes. The young woman placed her palm against the surface, and the runes pulsed faintly before the doors creaked open, revealing a spacious chamber.
Inside, the room was lined with shelves containing rare alchemical tools, books, and materials. At the center sat a man of commanding presence, his dark robes accented with violet embroidery that marked him as an elder. His insignia, a violet flame, gleamed faintly on his chest—a rank that exceeded even the golden insignias of Journeyman Alchemists.
Despite his composed demeanor, his suppressed aura pressed against the air like an invisible weight. While it lacked the overwhelming intensity I had felt from Sun Min or Mo Hong, it was enough to make the room feel stifling.
The elder's sharp eyes rose to meet mine as we entered, his gaze carrying the weight of a man who had seen decades of discipline and mastery. "This is the new recruit?" he asked, his voice deep and steady, with an undertone of scrutiny.
The young woman clasped her hands respectfully. "Yes, Elder Lu," she said. "He has completed both parts of the examination flawlessly."
The elder's brows rose slightly, his expression turning analytical as he leaned forward. "Flawlessly?" he repeated, his gaze locking onto me with unnerving precision.
"Yes, Elder. He identified every ingredient without error, including the hybrid variations, and his preparation work was... perfect," she added, her tone tinged with faint disbelief.
Elder Lu's sharp eyes narrowed as he studied me; his presence felt like a coiled predator evaluating its prey. "Name and cultivation stage?"
"Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Qi Condensation Stage One," I replied, meeting his gaze evenly.
A ripple of surprise crossed his otherwise stoic face, his brow furrowing slightly. "Stage One?" He glanced at the young woman, as if confirming what he had just heard.
"He started yesterday, Elder," she said, her voice carrying an undertone of amazement. "Not only did he reach Stage One within a day, but his foundation is fully stable. I verified it myself."
Elder Lu leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze never leaving me. His presence grew heavier for a moment, as if testing my composure, before he allowed a faint nod. "One day to reach Stage One, with a stable foundation, and you pass the department's examination flawlessly on the next day?"
"Yes, Elder" I replied, bowing slightly, my tone calm but firm.
The room fell silent for a moment as the overseer studied me, his sharp eyes seeming to weigh the implications. Finally, he nodded. "Remarkable. If nothing else, you've proven yourself worthy of the department's resources."
He walked to a shelf and retrieved a small wooden box, its surface engraved with faint violet runes. Opening it, he revealed a neatly arranged set of insignias, their designs varying from plants to flames. Selecting one with a simple leaf emblem, he stepped closer and handed it to me.
"This insignia marks you as an Assistant within the Alchemy Department," he said. "Wear it on your robes at all times while working in the department. It is both a symbol of your role and a reminder of the standards you are expected to uphold."
I accepted the insignia with a slight bow, affixing it to my robe.
Elder Lu continued, his voice steady and commanding. "As an Assistant, your tasks will focus on ingredient preparation, organization, and supporting Novice Alchemists. Only when you've demonstrated the ability to consistently refine pills will you qualify for advancement to Novice Alchemist. Alchemy demands patience and precision—master the fundamentals before reaching beyond them."
"I understand, Elder," I said.
"Good." He gestured to a large ledger resting on a pedestal near the wall. "Before you leave, record your name and cultivation stage in the department's registry. This will officially mark your initiation as an Assistant in the Alchemy Department."
I approached the ledger, its pages filled with rows of meticulously written entries detailing the names, ranks, and progress of disciples past and present. Taking the ink brush provided, I wrote:
Name: Ayanokoji Kiyotaka
Rank: Assistant
Cultivation Stage: Qi Condensation Stage One
Stepping back, I felt Elder Lu's gaze appraising me once more. "Welcome to the Alchemy Department, Ayanokoji. You've made an impressive start, but this is only the beginning. Prove that you can handle the demands of this craft, and you'll find your efforts rewarded."
"I will not falter, Elder," I said, my voice calm but resolute.
Elder Lu nodded, turning back to his desk as the young woman gestured for me to follow her.
As we exited the chamber, the oppressive weight of Elder Lu's presence lifted, and I exhaled softly, feeling the subtle release of tension.
The young woman walked beside me, her posture more relaxed now. "Elder Lu rarely comments on new assistants," she said, her tone lighter. "You've clearly made an impression."
"I only did what was required," I replied evenly.
Her lips curled into a faint smile. "You're modest, junior brother. That's a good quality in this field. I'm Bai Yun, by the way," she said, inclining her head slightly. "I'm a Novice Alchemist, but I still remember my assistant days. If you need guidance—or just someone to complain to—don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you, Senior Sister Bai Yun," I said, returning the gesture with a slight bow.
Her smile widened. "Good luck, junior brother. You're off to an impressive start, but the challenges ahead will test you. Stay focused."
She gestured to a bustling preparation hall ahead. "This is where you'll begin. Your first tasks will be assigned shortly. For now, settle in and observe the workflow."
With that, she departed, leaving me alone in the preparation hall. Around me, disciples moved with purpose, their stations filled with herbs, roots, and tools. The rhythmic grind of pestles and the soft glow of Qi filled furnaces filled the air.
Stepping forward, I approached an empty station, ready to begin the next phase as an alchemist.
***
A/N: Upload Schedule: Chapter 8: Novice Alchemist - 20 January
Chapter 9: Gaining a pawn - 27 January
Chapter 10: Anomaly - 3 February