Teaching and the Essence of Alchemy
1036 Words
"Clang!"
"Ugh—"
Satania’s crimson scythe was sent flying by Ira’s needle-like rapier.
It was a nearly unimaginable scene—such a long, two-handed weapon being knocked away by what appeared to be a light and delicate sword.
This was the power of "Fourth Wing Pillar: Giant Bee – Wing Expansion." The translucent, cicada-like wings extending from Ira’s spine near his waist attested to the mana source he had obtained by slaying a giant bee in a previous battle.
"I lost," Satania admitted, reaching out to summon her crimson demon scythe back to her hand. She fell into silent contemplation over her own shortcomings in the fight and came to a conclusion—
She really wasn’t familiar with how to use a scythe.
"If you find it too difficult to wield, you don’t have to use it. There’s no need to imitate your father in everything," Ira said, shaking his head with a sigh. "In fact, your father’s scythe technique seemed entirely lacking in finesse. I still believe he used a scythe simply because it was a high-grade staff."
Recalling his battles against the Crimson Dragon Lord, Ira seemed to realize something and added, "When he fought, his most common attacks were simply bashing with the scythe or firing energy beams... Basically, condensed mana blasts."
"… Huh? Is that so?"
Satania, who wasn’t too familiar with her father’s combat style, hesitated as she stared at her scythe. She instinctively infused her mana into the weapon.
The scythe absorbed the energy, responding to the injection of mana—
But something felt off.
Her eyes widened as she sensed the instability building within the weapon. Ira’s warning came a moment too late—
"That’s good, but you should stop channeling mana into it now and release the energy immediately… Your control isn’t precise enough—"
Before he could finish, Satania had already lost control. She hurriedly cut off her connection to the scythe and shouted, "Ira! Get out of the way!"
The moment she severed the mana flow, the Crimson Demon Scythe unleashed a crescent-shaped s***h of mana. In the blink of an eye, a crimson arc of energy shot toward Ira, spinning with intense wind pressure.
"Ah… See? That’s exactly why—"
Watching the energy s***h fly toward him, Ira let out a sigh. He channeled mana borrowed from the World Tree, reinforcing the needle-thin rapier in his hand.
"—you need to understand your own limits."
As he spoke, the massive crimson arc, slicing through the air with terrifying force, collided with his rapier in a piercing clash—
"Clang—!!"
"Boom—!!"
A minor explosion erupted on impact. The Crimson Mana Crescent shattered instantly, dispersing into countless red particles that scattered into the air.
Standing in the midst of the fading crimson dust, Ira lightly flicked his rapier and turned to the guilty-looking Satania.
"There’s no need to make that face. Honestly, I saw this coming. You still have a lot to learn."
"Ugh… Yes, Ira-sensei!"
Meanwhile, Vera, who had been examining a giant bee’s corpse, faintly heard the explosion. She briefly lifted her head but, realizing that it was simply another one of Ira and Satania’s lessons, quickly dismissed it and resumed her work.
"So, the reason magical beasts are considered such isn't just about intelligence but also about the quality of their souls?"
She murmured to herself, deep in thought. For a long time, she had struggled to understand—
Did intelligence determine the quality of the soul?
Or was it the soul that set the limits on intelligence?
"No matter if they are worker bees, soldier bees, or even the queen bee, their souls can’t be used to refine a Philosopher’s Stone."
Vera propped her chin up with one hand, exhaustion evident on her face. The weight of her chest pressed against the table as she idly tapped its surface with her fingers, lost in contemplation.
On the table sat a dull, murky-colored stone—a failed product.
What she truly sought was a radiant, multicolored Philosopher’s Stone. Yet even with this many souls, all she had managed to produce was a worthless byproduct.
"Sigh, I just don’t get it."
She muttered, toying absentmindedly with the failed magic stone. She decided she would later gift it to the Construct Leader of the Demon Lord’s domain.
"Alchemy really is difficult… If only Guleira were here."
The name she spoke—Guleira—belonged to the Imperial Court Alchemist of the empire.
It was worth noting that all Imperial Alchemists were insanely devoted Ira fanatics.
They practically worshipped every random scribble Ira had ever made on a piece of parchment, and some of them were outright lunatics who would scream things like:
"Hehehe! My dear Lord Ira! So tiny, so fragrant! Hehehehe!"
Their fervor was so extreme that even tavern bards often used them as inspiration when composing songs about the zealotry of the Theocratic Nation’s fanatics.
Since all alchemists were considered part of the "Ira School of Thought," Vera wondered—now that Ira had defected, would the empire suppress them?
From what she knew of Isabella, she doubted that the Empress would crack down on alchemy.
But the noble factions… that was another story.
After all, nobles were nobles.
"If I recall correctly, Guleira actually used to hate Ira..."
As she continued turning the failed stone between her fingers, she tried to recall—
There was a specific theory of Ira’s that had turned Guleira from a skeptic into a full-fledged zealot.
But what was it?
Vera frowned, struggling to remember.
If she really couldn’t recall, she could just ask Ira himself…
Though, after ten years, Ira might not remember either.
"Hmm… Oh, right!"
It was—
"The difference between alchemy and magic? Hm… In magic, mana is consumed to create effects from nothing—fire that burns hot, ice that chills to the bone, and so on."
"But in alchemy, mana is merely a medium because…"
"Because alchemy’s essence is not creation from nothing, but equivalent exchange!"
The moment Vera remembered those words, her eyes sparkled with realization.
Immediately, she dove back into her experiments, filled with newfound enthusiasm.
- Writer
