Did someone do it on Gorp’s orders? If not, then Valm had an enemy he wasn’t even aware of. And that meant his entire theory—that Gray Ravens’ attack on him had been initiated by the mayor—was worthless.

  “You can sense the traces of the aura of the person who brought this orb to Gray Ravens?”

  “Unfortunately not, Master Valm. All traces have been erased.”

  “I see,” he said in disappointment.

  So was it the mayor or not? Right now, the alchemist was confused. There was no way to decipher the names in Ravens’ notebook; the one who knew the code had been dead for a long time. Valm sighed. Well, at least this much. He had eliminated the immediate threat, and that was no small thing.

  While he was pondering, the Battle Master and Qian had sorted the pile on the floor into three roughly equal parts.

  “If this works for everyone…” Grem said, gesturing at the items.

  “I feel like a bandit,” the alchemist sighed again, stowing his share in his storage.

  “Rob the robbed!” Qian exclaimed, taking her portion. “Master, are you sure it was only Gray Ravens who wanted to kill you? Maybe there’s someone else?”

  The Battle Master and the alchemist exchanged glances and shook their heads in perfect unison, expressing utter disappointment.

  “So, what about the duck?” Valm asked her.

  Qian’s expression instantly turned gloomy.

  “I’m on it, Master…”

  “You do realize the mayor won’t stop, Master Valm?” Grem asked. “Sooner or later, he’ll find new assassins. Maybe we should strike first?”

  The Battle Master made a meaningful gesture, drawing his finger across his throat.

  “Although the likelihood is high, I’m not even sure anymore that Gorp was really behind it. Besides, killing the mayor will definitely attract the royal court’s attention, an investigation will begin, and I don’t need that right now. So, no. We’ll just stay vigilant.”

  “As you wish.”

  He was about to leave when the alchemist stopped him.

  “What’s your level now?”

  “Tomorrow, I take my last pill. Everything’s great, Master Valm! I think this will be my easiest breakthrough yet!”

  “Glad to hear it. Once you’ve adapted to your new rank, we’ll see what else we can do to raise your level again.”

  Grem left the house, his eyes shining and his heart pounding from the alchemist’s words. Raise his level again?! He could make him a Battle Ancestor?! For such a service, Grem would be willing to guard him for life! In the entire human kingdom, there were no more than five people at that level of power! Damn! That decision to help the alchemist on the square had turned out to be the best one of his life!

  Ladbor was approaching Gray Ravens’ base, seething with rage. Five days had passed, yet the damn alchemist was still alive. Sometimes his fury was interrupted by fear of the mayor, which only intensified his turmoil and emotional swings.

  “Something’s wrong!” the thought flashed in his mind as he turned off the road onto the crooked path leading to the base. The adventurer sensed no auras there, only a few birds and beasts. Had those bastards just run away? Ladbor tightened his grip on the reins and urged his mount forward.

  Reality turned out to be far worse than he had imagined a minute ago. The adventurer stood before the remnants of the heavy gates, which had been destroyed with a single strike. Not that he himself couldn’t strike with the same force, but still… The courtyard inside was filled with the corpses Ravens. Twisted, some already torn apart by scavengers… Ladbor had never seen such a brutal massacre before.

  Being an experienced adventurer, he could easily tell how excruciatingly these people had died. And if at first he thought the killer was the one who had destroyed the gates, a few glances at the bodies were enough to determine the true cause of death. Not a single wound on them—except for those torn apart by beasts. But at the same time, all their muscles were shredded… This wasn’t the work of a warrior or a mage. This was definitely poisoning!

  Ladbor recalled the mayor’s words about Valm: “He’s the disciple of the Toxic Dragon!” A cold sweat trickled down the adventurer’s spine. He remembered all the tales and childhood horror stories about the old alchemist. Damn it, they weren’t lies! And if Valm was even half as skilled as his master, then…

  Ladbor abandoned his examination of the bodies and ran, searching for the First Raven. That damn recording orb… He had wisely erased his aura traces when he passed it on, but if a strong enough expert wanted to, they could still find clues. And then… If Valm decided to kill him, the adventurer wouldn’t stand a chance!

  The First Raven lay in the middle of the barracks, his right hand clutching his own throat, as if in his final moments he had realized the poison in the air and tried to stop it. From the scratch marks on his neck, even a fool would understand that he had been holding his throat with both hands before death! Damn it! He had already been searched, and his storage was gone. Just in case, the adventurer rummaged through all the pockets on the First Raven’s clothing. Empty…

  In frustration, Ladbor punched the floor, smashing through the thick planks. Now what? The bodies had been there for about thirty to thirty-five hours, and if Valm hadn’t found him yet, then… There was a chance the alchemist didn’t have someone strong enough beside him to track Ladbor down by the aura remnants on the orb.

  There was nothing more he could do here, so he had no choice but to go and report everything to the mayor. Ladbor wasn’t sure if he should mention that damned recording orb, which could doom them both. The adventurer grinned. No, since he had already sunk into this mess because of the mayor and his daughter, then, if it came to it, he’d drag them to the grave with him. So, not a word to Gorp about the recording orb.

  Qian had barely slept that night. Having thoroughly studied the recipe her master had given her along with the bird carcass, she began cooking. Carefully plucking the feathers, she rinsed the bird in salted boiling water, then patted it dry with napkins and let it air out in the hot draft above the stove. When the skin became as her master had described in the recipe, she set the carcass aside and started preparing the marinade…

  Well-rested after a good sleep, Valm could smell the pleasant aroma from the kitchen even while still in bed. It was far from perfect, but several times better than all of Qian’s previous attempts—or the cook’s. Deciding that this was something he definitely couldn’t miss, the alchemist was seated at the dining table within minutes.

  “Master! I did it!” Qian proudly placed a large plate with the duck before the alchemist.

  Valm closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Garlic… The scent was much stronger than it should have been, and it seemed somewhat yellowed and burnt. The ginger, instead of a fragrant aroma, had turned bitter. Valm tore off a drumstick and took a bite, assessing the crispness of the skin.

  “It’s still garbage, but if you’re starving, it’s edible. If you hold your nose while eating. Your main mistakes were these: I described exactly how finely the garlic and ginger should be chopped for a reason. Crushing them into a paste with your fingers didn’t release their flavor properly—instead, they lost their juice, dried out quickly in the oven, and burned. So… This time, the duck isn’t flying at you only because I’m in a good mood this morning. Keep practicing.”

  He pulled out a new carcass and handed it to Qian before heading to the laboratory, waving a duck thigh in the air like a conductor’s baton. The girl smiled quietly and, grabbing a plate, ran off to find the guard.

  “He ate it! He ate it!” she whispered loudly.

  “Who ate what?” Grem asked mockingly.

  “The teacher ate the thigh! He called it crap, but he still ate it!”

  “Crap, you say?”

  The Battle Master tore off the other leg and tasted it.

  “Not bad!” he exclaimed, snatching the plate from Qian’s hands. “Leave it here. I’ll return the plate later.”

  Qian was pleased with herself. Yes, she had been wrong to deviate from the teacher’s recipe. She had thought that humans chopped things finely with a knife because their fingers were too weak to grind the ingredients into a paste. But now she understood… No matter. Next time, she wouldn’t make that mistake.

  Valm tossed the bone into the trash, wiped his greasy fingers with a napkin, and entered the laboratory. He had to admit, Qian was making clear progress with the recipe, even though it disrupted his original training plan. But to hell with it.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The alchemist stood at the central control panel and dragged a horned goblin into the lab. A worthy specimen. Even strapped to the frame, the monster struggled, fighting for its life.

  The horned goblin was a unique species among its kin, possessing distinct physical traits and often leading small packs of two or three dozen creatures. Standing a little over a meter tall, they carried themselves with pride to appear taller than regular goblins. Their skin, dark green or gray with crimson or black spots, gave them a terrifying appearance. Their horns grew from their foreheads, curving backward like those of a goat or ram, covered in cracks and scratches. Their blue eyes, with round or oval pupils, lurked beneath heavy brow ridges.

  Horned goblins had large, pointed ears, often pierced with metal rings or earrings. However, most had their ear cartilage broken multiple times, leaving their ears hanging down like a cow’s udder. Their slobbering mouths were filled with small, sharp, dark yellow teeth. Their arms and legs were long, thin yet strong, with sharp claws they frequently used as weapons.

  Looking at the bound creature, Valm thought he wouldn’t want to encounter one in the wild or a dungeon. They were semi-intelligent and often surprised even experienced adventurers with their cunning and treachery in battle. But now, the alchemist felt nothing but mild disgust toward the horned goblin. It was merely research material.

  “Since you’re here, let’s begin…” the alchemist told the creature and sawed off its horns, which would have interfered with the trepanation.

  Even with its vocal cords torn, the horned goblin managed to emit a sound resembling a squeak. It completely lost its mind in terror when its own gray scalp hit the floor before its eyes, and the circular saw bit into the bones of its skull.

  The next day, Grem ascended to a higher rank of Battle Master. He couldn’t share the news with anyone except Qian, as Valm had locked himself in the laboratory and hadn’t come out since. Monsters vanished from their cages one by one. Even with new shipments from Manager Pak, the number of creatures in the Citadel’s cages continued to dwindle. The alchemist worked like a madman.

  In the rare moments when Valm did emerge, Qian brought him roasted duck, which he invariably criticized—after eating a thigh. But his criticism grew milder each time, which still gave the girl hope and a bit of optimism.

  Every time the laboratory doors opened, Grem and Qian, no matter where they were in the Citadel, shuddered. A staggering aura of despair, pain, and suffering burst out from within. It made their hearts feel like they were being torn apart. And each day, that sensation only grew stronger.

  The girl and the guard couldn’t understand how the alchemist could remain inside nearly all day when they were shaken to the core just from the momentary exposure. Did Valm not feel it? The lab’s metallic, magic-resistant walls contained the deadly aura, preventing it from dispersing into the surroundings. And one way or another, it led to irreversible changes.

  Grem was the first to notice. At first, he didn’t want to say anything to Valm, as he couldn’t believe what he was seeing himself. But three days later, Qian approached him.

  “Grem, this might sound crazy, but lately, the teacher’s bloodlust is suffocating me. I can even see it around his body.”

  “You too? I thought I was just imagining things!”

  “I wish that were the case, but it’s physically hard to breathe around him… Every time I set the duck on the table and wait for his reaction, I can barely stay conscious. I know it’s impossible, but it’s real! My claws extend involuntarily out of fear, even without shifting forms!”

  “I don’t understand how an ordinary human can have such overwhelming bloodlust, Qian.”

  “But Grem, maybe you should talk to him? Figure out what’s going on? Something tells me he doesn’t even realize it himself.”

  “I wouldn’t want to stick my nose into the client’s business…”

  “Grem, but this is dangerous—especially for Valm! Someone might mistake it for an attack and strike back. And then what?! Damn it, my teacher isn’t a warrior—he could be killed with a single finger!”

  The Battle Master hesitated. Qian was right. The physically weak alchemist could be easily slain by even a first-class warrior.

  “So… should we try to find out the cause and talk to him?” he asked, still uncertain.

  “Agreed. I’m not very smart, but I think it’s because of his experiments and that metal coffin.”

  “It makes me sick too…”

  “Then tomorrow morning?”

  “Agreed. Tomorrow morning.”

  The next day, the Battle Master wandered around the courtyard, waiting for Valm and Qian to step outside. Feeling the alchemist rise from his seat, he moved toward the stairs.

  “Master Valm,” he addressed him as soon as the alchemist stepped through the door. “There’s something very important we need to discuss!”

  Valm raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “You’ve ascended to a higher rank of Battle Master?” he guessed. “Congratulations!”

  Grem exchanged glances with the girl standing behind the alchemist.

  “Uhhh… yes, a few weeks ago, but that’s not what this is about, Master Valm!” Grem took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “Master Valm, you’ve developed a bloodlust! And even though these words may sound like nonsense to you, it’s the truth!”

  “Hahaha! A witty joke, I must admit!”

  “Master, it’s true! And it’s not a joke!” Qian exclaimed.

  Valm’s gaze turned serious.

  “That is physically impossible, Grem. I can’t even release my aura to enhance myself physically, so what bloodlust are you talking about?”

  “I don’t understand it myself,” the Battle Master shrugged, “but you already have it, and one way or another, you need to learn how to control it before it controls you. Walking around like this could be dangerous for both you and those around you. Even your student finds it difficult to be near you—so what about ordinary people?”

  These words made Valm uneasy. As a scientist, he knew that human knowledge had more gaps than actual facts, so anything was possible… And neither the guard nor his student would spout nonsense. Yet, Valm himself felt no bloodlust at all.

  “Well… I believe you, but I have some urgent matters to attend to right now, so let’s continue tomorrow.”

  The alchemist slipped past Grem like a snake and darted into his laboratory. Grem simply didn’t dare stop him. Valm shut the door behind him and leaned his back against the cold metal surface.

  Bloodlust… The ability of warriors to terrify their opponents with their sheer intent to kill. For first-class warriors, it was barely perceptible, extending only a few centimeters from their bodies, but… the stronger a warrior, the more potent and tangible their bloodlust became. The strongest of this world—the Gods of War—could spread their bloodlust over vast distances, killing all living things around them. Killing with the mere fear of death!

  Valm shook his head. No, now wasn’t the time to think about that. He had very little left to do—just a dozen more monsters to study before completing the material for the first volume of his “Encyclopedia,” which would catalog all first-class monsters of this world! This wasn’t just his priority; Valm saw it as his duty, both to himself and to humanity.

  With determined steps, he headed to the central control point and dragged yet another creature into his laboratory.

  “Don’t despair!” he commanded it. “To serve humanity in this way should be an honor for you, you wretch!”

  And yet, late at night, after finishing his research and cleaning up, Valm couldn’t resist analyzing his own blood.

  Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The blood of an ordinary human. No warrior markers like those in Grem’s blood.

  “Miracles… they’re right beside us,” Valm thought as he stepped outside.

  The next morning, the Battle Master was already waiting for the alchemist in the courtyard.

  “Alright, I’m ready,” Valm told him. “Teach me how to control it.”

  “Master Valm, as you know, bloodlust is an ability of warriors…”

  “Wait, Grem,” the alchemist interrupted, “I know perfectly well what bloodlust is, where and how it manifests in warriors’ bodies, and so on. Just teach me how to control it…”

  “Well… alright…” Grem fell silent for a moment, pondering how to go about it. “Master Valm, do you want to kill someone?”

  “Me?” The alchemist laughed. “No, why would I?”

  “What about monsters?”

  “No, Grem, killing monsters isn’t my thing.”

  “But you do kill them, Master Valm.”

  “You’re mistaken, Grem. I only study them. And the fact that they die during the research… Believe me, I’d prefer if they were much, much tougher… and didn’t just drop dead suddenly in the middle of the process.”

  “If that’s the case, try imagining that you want to kill someone!”

  “Hmm… Like who?”

  “Anyone. Even that damned woman who whipped you in the square. But don’t just think ‘I’m going to kill you’—wish for it with all your heart, make it your only goal, channel all your thoughts and strength into it…”

  Grem abruptly fell silent and jumped back.

  Up until that moment, Valm’s bloodlust had been gray and semi-transparent. It had quietly wavered about a meter or so around his body. But now…

  The Battle Master had never seen anything like it.

  Crimson tongues of bloodlust burst from the alchemist’s body, absorbing and strengthening themselves with the calm gray part of his aura. They lashed forward for several meters, attacking everything in their path—bugs, tree branches, small stones on the courtyard pavement…

  “I can see it…” Valm said in shock.

  “Master Valm! Don’t waste time! Control it, make it obey you, don’t let it act chaotically! It must become your third arm, your third eye, your weapon! And if there’s no need to kill—sheathe your weapon!”

  “Understood, Grem!” Valm shouted.

  The alchemist had hoped it would be easy. It wasn’t.

  On the contrary, the red-gray storm around him only grew, destroying everything in its path. Valm noticed Grem stepping further and further back, while Qian quickly stripped off her clothes, preparing to shift into her beast form.

  Damn it, how was this even possible?! Was it time to panic already?

  Valm gritted his teeth. In his mind, images flared up again and again—he was tearing that bitch, Sari, to shreds, ripping out her entrails with his own hands and wrapping them around her neck…

  Damn it, he should’ve done this in the lab! Because if he lost control now, Grem and Qian would get hurt! That thought angered him the most. But Valm wasn’t a great scientist for nothing.

  Even as emotions overwhelmed him, part of his mind continued analyzing what he could use to counteract this madness around him.

  Spiritual energy. The force that made him a ninth-circle peak alchemist. The power that easily separated and processed ingredients in the alchemical cauldron, almost at the molecular level.

  The energy that effortlessly manipulated millions of components when creating high-ranking pills… And if he wove it into this wild bloodlust…

  It was worth a try!

  Valm directed it in thin strands into the crimson-gray tongues. Invisible, it easily pierced through them, releasing thousands of delicate threads along the way, which coiled into anchors, firmly embedding themselves inside the unruly flames of bloodlust.

  Gradually, one by one, those flames fell still. They trembled with tension, resisting the strange spiritual force of the alchemist, but steadily lost. The moment they all froze, a fragile equilibrium was achieved.

  Valm became calm. Absolutely. His mind processed millions of signals per second. He felt every twitch of his bloodlust, every impulse, and forbade it. The bloody visions vanished from his thoughts. That’s right—bloodlust was just a tool. And would Valm ever submit to a tool?

  “Come on, Master, you can do it!” Qian shouted, waving her fluffy paw with razor-sharp white claws.

  The alchemist smiled.

  “Return!” he commanded in his mind, amused at himself.

  He had never done that when controlling his spiritual energy. And with bloodlust, it would be no different. If spiritual energy was his third arm… Then this would be his fourth!

  The crimson-gray flames coiled around Valm, softly enveloping him in a spiral from the ground up.

  It felt good, like some wild and untamed force had suddenly become obedient.

  The alchemist stretched out his hand, and one of the flames glided forward obediently, slithering like a snake.

  Valm touched Qian’s discarded clothes, which lay in a pile on the ground, lifted them, and handed them to her.

  “You can get dressed. It’s over.”

  “Mmm… Materialized!” Grem’s eyes went wide as saucers.

  The materialization of bloodlust, where it became dense enough to affect the physical world… Only warriors of the highest circles could do that.

  Higher than Grem himself.

  “And now tell me,” Valm turned to him, “how do I make it disappear?”