Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 521 - 477 Alchemy and the Assassin

"Undead, Flesh and White Bones, Turning Stones into Gold, the Sage’s Stone of Immortality?"

Verlet pushed the hair on her left temple behind her ear, and her profile was full of feminine allure in the flickering candlelight. Ralph was just able to see this side of her; he could also see the childlike surprise in Verlet’s eyes, which was identical to the curiosity on Silvette’s face.

Ralph told a story.

...

It was a room as secluded as a chapel, also lit by the dim glow of candles.

The feeble light shone upon the glass instruments on the experiment table, and in the bubble-like spherical glass, light yellow and dark red liquids boiled, with steam flowing through the pipes into the next apparatus, morphing into something new.

It wasn’t night there, thick layers of velvet turned sunlight into faint and almost nonexistent shadows on the walls, and the smell of each area mixed into a unique and odd scent. The cold and fiery sensation simultaneously acted on the skin—the tiny airborne dust particles in the air were at work. It was an environment unbearable for normal people, but its sole dweller had grown accustomed to it.

There was a fully armoured dwarf, tightly wrapped in expensive silk that made him look like an agile rice dumpling. Sweat and dust together degraded the value of the noble fabric, turning the alchemist into a moving incarnation of foul stench. A crystal lens was wedged into the silk, providing a narrow field of vision for the oddity inside, moving from one workstation to another, and nothing more.

"Failure, sulfur interfered with the three synchronous reactions after its application, I need to find more stable isotopic materials..."

"My neck itches... suspecting it’s the vapor of Kachala Tendon Grass juices, might also have some catalysis from Gnawing Orb Rat claws, I need to take a minute to clean the wound before these dust particles corrode my carotid artery..."

"I can’t confirm if this is yet another failed experiment. The wrapping makes my skin feel awful, full of grease. I guess the texture of my skin must be similar to keratin. Was that damn book even correct?"

"What alchemy starts with the alchemist?"

Only he mumbled to himself while moving around, his mad tone indicating that he had fallen into a folly that seemed insane to normal people.

"Gods above, if only a gust of wind could blow in here, preferably carrying the scent of the florist from Bolan Street. Now that’s a fine woman... heh heh heh..." The alchemist let out a strange laugh, continuing his experiments, his reflection lingering on the lens, intertwining two kinds of desires.

A breeze blew on the dwarf.

A cold breeze, bringing a cool relief to the burnt neck of the alchemist.

He stopped his work, placing his hands flat on the low table, trying to spread his fingers, wrapped tight like sausages.

This place was sealed into a secret room. There shouldn’t be any wind here.

Just as he thought. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"Wind" reached out and patted his shoulder.

Through the glass mirror in front of him, the alchemist saw the figure behind him. A tall, phantom-like shadow with its black gloved hand on his shoulder. Those eyes, emitting a cold light, were beautiful, the gloom within them might even quell the instability of Mezhera Solvent Stone.

An assassin.

He now worked as an alchemist for the Montel Kingdom, a wartime consultant, an expert in poisons and anesthetics.

The Montel Kingdom was at a disadvantage now, and his research was crucial, so, an assassin from an enemy nation, that wasn’t a surprise.

Calm the heart, look for an opportunity, you can do this.

The alchemist comforted himself, but in the next moment, a bolt of fear shot up from his tailbone, crawling up the spine and halting abruptly at the neck—this was all because the assassin’s thumb pressed against the back of his neck. He bent down because of the disparity in sizes, and, absurdly, the alchemist felt sorry for making Death stoop.

"You are Abdekad Ras, the poison expert from Montel."

"Only temporarily hired, I’ve only been in Montel for two months."

Forget about counter-interrogation techniques, to hell with it, I can’t do this! The dwarf felt a chill like never before coursing through his body.

This assassin was a monster, a monster in spirit.

An idea struck, and he blurted out the name.

"Amitage, you are Amitage!" the dwarf called out urgently, as if he had discovered a new continent.

"Amitage." "Amitage" the name was repeated, his tone flat, with a hint of question in it.

He was interested, sensing a chance, the alchemist scrambled up the pole. "Amitage from the Zwei Kingdom, the Assassin. Amitage, meaning ’nonexistent man’. Your ability brought suffering to the whole kingdom, no traces, no clues, it’s only after sacrificing our entire intelligence network that we learned about the existence of such an assassin. Without a name, we could only call you so."

"Kingslayer, Amitage of Zwei."

The alchemist did his best to show his admiration, to win Amitage’s mercy; he still had value, possessed information; yes, betraying his employer, Abdekad did not hesitate, he took the job solely for his own experiments’ materials. Now, life was more important.

"You can speak your last words now." A death sentence. The cold-blooded brute finally passed down judgment.

"I still have value, I have information! I can help Zwei defeat Montel!"