Chapter 12
Chapter 12
The preparations for the symposium didn’t take long.
A request from dozens of Albedo-class alchemists carried weight far beyond ordinary expectations. Considering that there weren’t even a hundred Albedo-class alchemists active in Astrum, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say the entire alchemy field had started moving at once.
That was how significant “genius” was in this world.
Every time one appeared, the entire academic world shifted.
Naturally, once rumors spread, alchemists from across Astrum gathered, and the Tower of Sages opened its grand lecture hall.
Before the presentation began, groups of alchemists gathered and talked.
Half of them looked skeptical.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t judge a genius if you don’t know what he’s done.”
“He’s supposed to be extremely young, right?”
Most of them were either young or lower-ranked alchemists.
They had heard the rumors, but it was hard to believe someone had solved a problem even the Tower couldn’t crack in just a few weeks.
Some outright doubted it.
But the other half didn’t hide their expectations.
“Heh. So Astrum finally has its genius.”
“With how infamous the Abyssal Wastes are, it was only a matter of time.”
“I was starting to think I’d grow old waiting.”
These were mostly older, higher-ranking alchemists.
They had lived long enough in the field to know exactly what geniuses could do.
And when you witness that kind of brilliance firsthand, envy fades—replaced by respect.
To seekers of truth, how could they not be fascinated?
They recalled legendary figures who once shook the continent.
Some even believed this new genius might one day stand alongside the “Sages.”
After all, the highest rank in modern alchemy—beyond Nigredo, Albedo, Citrinitas, and Rubedo—was that final stage.
Rubedo.
The Sage.
And so anticipation and doubt coexisted as the doors opened.
A group entered.
No—one person, accompanied by attendants.
“Is that the director?!”
“What brings him here?”
“Don’t I get to attend?”
“It’s just a joke. I came because I wanted to see the paper myself.”
He laughed and sat down.
Behind him, attendants prepared recording tools and transcription methods.
The mood in the hall shifted instantly.
The director’s presence meant one thing:
This was serious.
Finally, the protagonist appeared.
The moment Theodor stepped into the hall, murmurs spread.
“That’s him?”
“He’s younger than expected.”
“And he wrote that paper alone?”
All eyes turned toward him.
I swallowed dryly and stepped onto the stage.
This moment would determine everything.
Success meant progress.
Failure meant disaster.
I took a breath.
“Thank you for attending. I am Theodor, Nigredo-class alchemist.”
Applause followed.
Once it faded, I began.
I explained the Abyssal Wastes, spatial distortion, and how fragmented environments formed unstable regions.
As I spoke, the atmosphere shifted.
At first, skepticism.
Then curiosity.
Then excitement.
“Each region behaves like its own dimension,” I continued. “But fundamentally, they were once a single structure. If we establish a reference point…”
The idea spread through the hall like fire.
Finally, I raised the prototype.
An artifact embedded with an Amber Core.
“The Explorer’s Lantern. It detects spatial distortion and provides a navigational anchor for explorers.”
Gasps filled the hall.
Even the director leaned forward.
“We tested it,” he said.
“And?”
“It is… exceptional.”
That single word broke the room.
Applause erupted.
Questions followed immediately.
I barely had time to answer before the director intervened.
“That is enough. The rest is for us to discover.”
Reluctantly, they quieted.
Then came the conclusion:
A symposium would be held.
And just like that, chaos turned into celebration.
Later, the director led me to his office.
After tea and conversation, he finally asked:
“How much do you know?”
“Everything.”
Silence.
Then a sigh.
“You’re a troublesome one.”
He confirmed what I already knew:
The real Abyssal entrance was still hidden.
And then he asked:
“What will you do next?”
“Open it.”
Not by force.
But properly.
When I stood to leave, he handed me a pouch of gold from his personal funds.
“A small token.”
I accepted without hesitation.
No hesitation, no confusion.
Just smooth progression.
Because in this world—
That was normal.
And so, Theodor’s atelier returned to business as usual.
Chapter 12 — Basic Survival Skills
It had been a few days since the Tower of Sages turned upside down.
My paper had shaken the city, but strangely, my atelier remained peaceful.
No nobles storming in.
No desperate factions trying to recruit me.
Because they couldn’t get past the guards.
“Stop. If you’re not here to purchase alchemy products, leave.”
“An intelligence agent from the Zain Principality.”
“You think we wouldn’t notice?”
Two knights stood like statues.
Elite guards sent directly by the Third Prince and Fourth Princess.
With dragon fang insignias and armor forged by imperial techniques, they were closer to elite hunters than knights.
At minimum, A-rank level.
They could probably tear apart armored vehicles alone.
Because of them, most troublemakers never even approached.
“Reassuring,” I muttered.
Without them, I’d be drowning in unwanted attention.
The Empire wasn’t weak.
They simply didn’t need to cling to me.
They were protecting stability, not recruiting me.
That distinction mattered.
Soon, two familiar allies entered.
“Hey.”
“You’ve become famous fast.”
“I heard you calculated spatial distortion?”
Clovis and Cecilia.
They looked at me with mixed admiration and concern.
Cecilia frowned.
“You’ve drawn too much attention.”
“Because of the hounds?”
“Exactly. You’re too visible for your level.”
S-rank talent, but only Nigredo-class.
That made me a target.
“Don’t worry,” I said.
“I’ve prepared for that.”
At that moment, a Tower messenger arrived.
“You requested assistance. Here are your contracted subordinates.”
I received a ring.
After imprinting mana, I activated it.
Light burst outward.
Three massive figures appeared.
Armored knights.
Greatswords.
Glowing blue cores.
“Artar’s Knights.”
Albedo-class constructs from 200 years ago.
Heavy, powerful, and absurdly efficient.
Clovis blinked.
“You were planning to rely on these?”
“Yes.”
“And you think that’s enough?”
“It is.”
Because I wasn’t done yet.
I pulled out the Lantern.
And activated it.
The world shifted.
Spatial distortion became visible.
Like threads woven through reality.
“…What is that?” Cecilia whispered.
“My shortcut.”
The space bent.
And we were pulled forward.
In an instant—
We arrived.
Clovis staggered.
Cecilia fell over.
“…Where are we?” she demanded.
“Right in front of a ruin.”
A pause.
“…You say that like it’s normal.”
I shrugged.
It was normal.
For someone like me.
Exploration.
Materials.
Ancient ruins.
Main story progression.
All in a day’s work.
Because for a veteran—
This was just basic survival.