Becoming an Alchemist
“Stop.”
When the masked woman halted, the man walking a step behind her stopped as well. She removed her mask and drew a deep breath. A faint scent of blood lingered at her nose and mouth—the subtle blood fragrance detectable only by pureblood vampires among the demon race. Her eyes, now tinged red, scanned the surroundings before she nodded.
“We begin here.”
“Understood.”
The two stood silently in the remote forest, channeling their divine power. The moment the man’s divine power flowed into the woman’s back, a pure white radiance filled her crimson eyes. Eyes that read mana traces. They captured the lingering mana from those who had passed through this forest not long ago.
“There was a battle here a month ago. The testimony was true.”
“...Then?”
“...Yes. The Third Disaster has moved.”
The words that left the woman’s lips were brief, yet the weight they carried was terrifying. Even merely uttering his name conjured vivid images of the countless atrocities he had committed. The man who assassinated the former Emperor and Pope. The final alchemist who must be eradicated. The most vicious and wicked of the Seven Disasters. He bore countless other infamous titles, but they all ultimately condensed into one: the Third Disaster.
The man swallowed dryly and looked around.
“Has he resumed activity within the Empire...?”
“The traces here obscure the Third Disaster’s movements, but we cannot be certain yet.”
The woman opened her hand, unaware she had been clenching it tightly. Her palm was drenched in cold sweat. She stared at her faintly trembling fingers, then forced herself to steady her breathing and swept back her hair. Even so, her eyes continued to follow the traces left by the Third Disaster.
In truth, it was a half-meaningless effort. The Third Disaster’s traces only remained at battle sites. No traces of movement remained unless combat occurred. That was why, despite decades of pursuit, no one had ever caught even a glimpse of his shadow. She had assumed no traces would remain this time either, yet...
“...There are other traces left behind.”
A spark lit in the woman’s eyes. The radiance illuminating her pupils grew denser. Soon, she detected an extremely faint mana trace in a corner of the forest. It was so weak and unnaturally pure that it almost seemed like natural mana, but it was clearly left by a living human. The direction pointed north—toward Gidum, the demon empire. Given that it led toward Gidum, which was preparing for war with the Beast Union, it suggested the person intended to cause trouble in the coming conflict.
Of course, whether the human who left this trace had any connection to the Third Disaster remained unknown. They might be a complete stranger. Still, any human who survived unscathed in a place where the Third Disaster had lingered was worth pursuing at all costs. This could be the first opportunity in eighty years of tracking to finally catch the Third Disaster’s tail.
Having made her decision, the woman spoke.
“Garion, are there any Heresy Inquisitors heading to Gidum?”
“Yes, three inquisitors from the 13th Division are moving north.”
“Send a messenger pigeon to them.”
“What shall the message say?”
“Traces of a human presumed to be traveling with the Third Disaster lead toward Gidum. Move with the possibility of encountering the Third Disaster in mind.”
Her lips moved slightly as she added after a brief hesitation, “And if you determine that human is indeed with the Third Disaster, capture them alive. If capture proves impossible, eliminate them.”
Killing them might provoke the Third Disaster into action. He could return to the Empire or the Holy Kingdom and wreak havoc, resulting in enormous casualties. Even so, the Third Disaster had to be eliminated at any cost—for the sake of humanity, and the entire continent.
“I will send it.”
Priscilla Vermilion, leader of the 2nd Unit of Heresy Inquisitors. Her words, signed with her name, were bound to the leg of a pigeon crafted from light and soared across the sky.
*****
Though I could now proudly declare myself an alchemist, I still couldn’t go around announcing it. Alchemists were hunted and threatened with death no matter where they went in the Empire or beyond. It was truly unfair. Why should such an outstanding, magnificent, dashing, and incorruptible alchemist like me receive such treatment?
So I had to keep my alchemist identity a secret, but that wasn’t entirely disappointing. There was no need to boast about it anyway. As long as I had the alchemy happening in my own hands, I was perfectly content. In any case, I had reached the 2nd rank. The level where I could use Augmentation. Addition, combination, magic sword transmutation—I had finally become a true alchemist capable of such feats.
From this point, many things became possible. If I forgot a spoon, I could gather wood or iron and make one. If I lacked a chair or table, I could gather wood or iron and create them. I could also make arrows that never missed, swords that spewed fire, shadows, or water, hammers that generated shockwaves, or ropes that automatically bound enemies. I even thought I might create a giant transforming combining Tyrannosaurus that shot beams from its eyes and breath from its mouth, but that still seemed out of reach.
—...What exactly were you trying to transmute?
—A giant transforming combining Tyrannosaurus. It’ll shoot beams from its eyes and breath from its mouth.
—I don’t know what that is, but if you want to die, I can kill you painlessly.
—Please spare me.
After one attempt left me bleeding from my eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, I decided to leave it to my future self. So I also abandoned trying to create the Philosopher’s Stone. That was truly a shame. But I could always make blades or shields suitable for weapons. If I added mana remnants and made them in succession, I could produce around thirty. My combat ability had improved considerably.
That meant my training method changed as well.
“It’s a golem. Defeat it.”
I tilted my head at the pebble shuffling before me. The golem stood about as tall as my shin, with arms attached to either side. No legs—just arms at the end. It toddled around on those arms. It resembled the arm-only rock creature that appeared alongside the electric-spitting mouse in that anime. Like that one, this golem could even make expressions.
[Kihit! Kit!]
Its smirking face seemed to find me quite amusing. But who was I? Lulu, a 2nd-rank alchemist.
“You little golem brat. Today I’ll show you—”
Before I could finish, the little golem charged. An incredibly arrogant move, but it had the strength to back it up. I was beaten senseless by the little golem before I could even begin transmuting anything.
“Keng...!”
The little golem’s merciless pummeling continued until dinner. Despite walking on its arms, it sure knew how to hit people with them. Its laughter was especially irritating.
[Kihihit! Kit!]
“Sniff...”
Even as I lay down to sleep with my face swollen, the golem’s mocking laughter echoed in my ears. There really was no end to that vicious little thing.
*****
The bloody battle with the little golem continued. On the second day, I finally learned how to take the hits more gently. Being beaten didn’t change, though. I lost a front tooth after taking a bad hit to the face. At least it was a baby tooth, so that was fortunate.
By the fourth day of the increasingly fierce battle, I was finally starting to get used to the little golem’s speed. Only visually, of course. My body still hadn’t adapted, so I kept getting beaten. I got a little cocky, tried to counterattack, and lost a molar along with the front tooth.
Then, on the sixth day—one day before a full week—I collapsed after being pummeled by the little golem and began to understand why Aaron was so obsessed with speed. Against an opponent who closed the distance in melee, speed was essential.
Every job had its strengths and weaknesses. Knights were strong and fast in close combat but weak in firepower and area attacks, while mages were weak and slow in close combat but powerful in firepower and area attacks. Among them, alchemists were closer to mages. Without a knight to serve as the vanguard, the rear guard would be helplessly defeated. A reliable vanguard revealed a mage’s true value, but Aaron seemed to dislike that dependency. That was why he emphasized speed—to compensate for alchemy’s weaknesses.
Occasionally, when his forearms or back were exposed, the muscles were quite impressive. Anyone would mistake him for a knight rather than an alchemist, given how sharply defined and agile his body was. He must have trained to that extent to operate alone. Moreover, in this era where alchemy was taboo, close-quarters combat emphasizing speed became even more crucial for alchemists.
So speed was important. Then what must be done to improve that crucial speed? There were many methods, but the simplest was to shorten the process. The process of breaking down and combining various materials to create something new, then adding mana remnants. If even one step could be reduced, speed would naturally increase.
The problem was that I had no idea how to shorten the process. The transmutation itself was fine. The time-consuming part was adding the mana remnants. If only it could come directly from my hands like ordinary disassembly or augmentation transmutation...
‘Directly from my hands?’
A flash of insight struck my mind.