“Teacher! Open the gates, your student has returned from her mission!” Qian’s voice rang out over the Citadel early in the morning.

  “Damn it, it’s barely dawn! And why have you come back so early?” Valm thought as he sat up in bed, wrapping himself in a sheet. Finding his slippers with his feet, the alchemist sluggishly shuffled outside. It was cool and damp from the morning dew. He had despised this time of day with all his soul since childhood.

  “Teacher, your loyal student begs you to let her in, for she is exhausted from the long journey she endured on her weak little paws at your command!” Qian persisted outside the gates, shouting even louder.

  “Shut up, you fool!” the alchemist groaned, disabling the Citadel’s defenses before opening the gate.

  The girl strutted into the courtyard with a deliberately regal gait, holding her head high—and her white rabbit ears even higher.

  “Teacher, I—” Qian fell silent as she looked at Valm. “You’re not my teacher!”

  She began circling him, even making an attempt to sniff him.

  “Hmm. But you do seem like him. Just… different,” she mused aloud. “My teacher is thinner and scrawnier, but you, uncle… You really do resemble him… Yet you have a decent build, unlike my master Valm.”

  “My master Valm? You’ve lost all respect in the past month, haven’t you?! Do you want to go prepare a duck?!”

  “Oh, Teacher, is it really you?” Qian jumped up close to the alchemist, peering into his eyes. “What the hell happened to you?! Your eyes… Did you rip them from a dragon? When did you change them? Does it hurt?”

  A bird carcass appeared in Valm’s hands.

  “Cook. The damn. Duck!” he gritted through his teeth before turning around and heading back to bed.

  “It’s really my teacher!” Qian exclaimed in delight. “He hasn’t changed a bit! A rock! My deepest respect!”

  “Enough of riling him up already!” Grem called out irritably from his house window.

  In response, the girl merely burst into a ringing laugh and carried the poor bird’s carcass to the kitchen. Her tongue always worked faster than her brain.

  Valm finally woke up when the aroma of roasted duck reached his nose. It seemed his student hadn’t lost her skills over the past month. After quickly taking a shower, he sat at the dining table, where Qian was already waiting for him, tray in hand.

  “Does it taste good, Teacher?” she asked the moment the alchemist sank his teeth into the meat.

  Valm sighed but didn’t unclench his jaw, chewing instead. It was delicious.

  “So, how was your mission?” he changed the subject.

  “Oh, Teacher, it was tough, but I completed it—and even overfulfilled it! I gathered not only the ingredients you listed but many more!”

  The alchemist examined her closely, his gaze even lingering on the short one-handed sword hanging at her belt. That hadn’t been there before. Remembering the fate of his wallet during their first meeting, Valm reached a rather obvious conclusion.

  “You robbed people, didn’t you?” he asked bluntly.

  “Oh, well, people… and monsters…” She hesitated. “You know, they guard those herbs as if their lives depend on them!” At that moment, she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, what am I saying! It was actually the other way around, Teacher! You wouldn’t believe how many scoundrels tried to rob this delicate, defenseless girl and take by force the herbs she gathered with her sweat and blood! I begged them, pleaded with some, even ran from others… But they were relentless, so poor Qian had no choice… No choice but… Teacheeerrrr… It was so scary and so hard…”

  If Qian could fake-cry, tears would be streaming down her face right now.

  “Alright,” Valm replied simply, just to end the performance.

  “Alright?” she repeated in disbelief. “That’s it?”

  “Exactly. But if any of those people come looking for revenge, it will be your problem, understood?”

  Qian grinned widely.

  “They won’t come. I guarantee it.”

  The alchemist didn’t bother asking why she was so confident—it didn’t really concern him.

  “Well then… As promised, today I will start teaching you how to brew potions. Be ready in three hours, understood?”

  “Yes, Teacher!” Qian barked.

  Valm wiped his hands, took off his shirt, and stepped outside.

  “Let’s go, Grem!” he called to the Battle Master.

  “Let’s go?!” Qian repeated in confusion. “What’s going on here?! Wait! Explain!”

  By the time she ran outside, the two were already beyond the gates.

  An hour later, Qian watched in fascination as her teacher trained on the equipment. Grem had forbidden him from using excessive weights to avoid stimulating the growth of fast-twitch muscle fibers, which, while granting explosive power, would strip him of speed. And in dagger combat, speed and endurance were key. So instead, he performed an insane number of sets with moderate weight.

  To many, Valm’s physique might have seemed too lean and wiry, but… The agility and speed he had gained over the past month were well worth it. At the same time, the alchemist had not stopped consuming large amounts of various potions. He could do without them now, but he noticed they still contributed to his physical development.

  When red-gray flames of bloodlust enveloped Valm’s body, and its heavy pressure spread across the courtyard, Qian leaped to her feet in surprise. His sparring session with Grem was mesmerizing. There were no heavy strikes—Grem mostly stayed on defense—but… Her teacher executed incredible attack combinations! Some series consisted of just a few dozen, others of hundreds of offensive and defensive maneuvers!

  Qian found herself wondering whether she could withstand such a barrage. If her teacher were on equal footing with her in strength, then… no, definitely not. The thought sent shivers down her spine. And this was after just a month of training? What a pity that such a talented fighter would never be able to break through to even the first-class warrior level. Life was unfair…

  “Can I, uh… spar with you too?” she asked her teacher when he finished training and was heading inside.

  “Rabbit-Ears!” the Battle Master barked at her.

  But Valm stopped him.

  “You, Qian, will compete with me in alchemy, understood?”

  The girl pressed her lips together. Was this arrogance? Or confidence that he would train her into a high-level alchemist?

  “Half an hour, Qian!” the teacher called from the doorway. “You need to be ready in half an hour!”

  Qian was ready. Or at least, she thought she was.

  At the appointed time, Valm stepped out of the house, set up a table and chair in the courtyard, and ordered Qian to sit and listen to him. Grem, for whom alchemy was just as much a mystery, sat on the steps of his house, completely focused. Valm didn’t mind.

  “So, what is alchemy, Qian?” he asked. “Specifically for you—what does it mean?”

  The girl definitely didn’t expect that.

  “Ehhh, teacher… the path to success and a carefree life?”

  “Pay closer attention, Qian. I wasn’t asking about your goal, though it has the right to exist. How do you see alchemy? What associations come to your mind when you hear that word?”

  “Well, different potions, pills…”

  At these words, Valm closed his eyes and sighed sadly.

  “That’s just the result. You don’t have any other ideas?”

  With a guilty smile, Qian shrugged.

  “Alchemy, in my view,” said Valm, “is any action capable of taking something created by nature and, through transformation, granting it properties needed by the alchemist. For example, a simple first-level strength potion contains five ingredients, none of which affect a person’s physical strength. And even if you simply mix them together and force some unfortunate soul to swallow that mixture, they will most likely die from poisoning. So, the key here is transformation! In short, alchemy is transformation. You might say that people also transform grain into bread, so is that alchemy? And the answer is no! Baking bread from grain is not alchemy because it’s merely a process of improvement. You can chew the grain thoroughly and eat it as is. It won’t taste good, but the effect will be roughly the same as eating a crust of bread. Now, listen carefully! When creating an alchemical product, an alchemist breaks down ingredients into their components, isolates them, processes them, combines them, transforms them, and assembles them into what they wish to create. The unnecessary part, or slag, is removed.”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  During his speech, Valm paced back and forth in front of the table, gesturing emotionally. Qian didn’t take her eyes off him, and over time, it had a hypnotic effect. The girl heard her teacher’s words as if through cotton, the meaning of his lecture began to fade, and her eyes started closing.

  “Qian!” The alchemist loudly slapped his palm on the table, making her jump in her chair. “Are you listening? I always thought that beastfolk of your level had decent concentration. You disappoint me, Qian!”

  “Sorry, teacher! That won’t happen again!”

  She felt embarrassed about it herself.

  “So, let’s now discuss how an alchemist performs the necessary transformations. Most people think it’s done with an alchemical cauldron. I won’t argue, it’s important, but far from the most crucial element. Otherwise, alchemists would be everywhere. Others believe the recipe is the key component, but they’re mistaken too. Some even claim that without celestial fire,”—he extended his hand, and above his palm, a nearly transparent white flame flared up, its heat felt even by Grem. Valm held it for a few seconds before extinguishing it with a clench of his fist—“one cannot become a great alchemist. And that’s wrong as well. All alchemical cauldrons today are made with formations that transform monster cores into the fire that fuels the cauldron. So what is the most important thing?”

  The alchemist fell silent, looking at Qian. Seeing no answer from her, he continued.

  “Intelligence! That is the primary tool of an alchemist! The mind maintains control over processes and simultaneously generates spiritual energy, which carries out the transformation! It sounds complicated, but you will understand and see for yourself the moment you attempt to create a potion on your own!”

  At these words, Valm dramatically raised a finger, as if emphasizing the importance of his statement.

  “And just like muscles, the mind can be trained by anyone. Your level of spiritual energy will directly depend on this. I’ll be honest, training the mind is far more difficult than training the body. That’s just how our brains work—they are lazy, selfish things that would rather choose rest over any work, no matter how easy. Qian! I will not be a lenient teacher to you. I will demand so much work from you that blood will flow from your eyes…”—he looked into her naturally blood-red eyes—“No, from your ears! But know that it will all be for your success! Do you understand?”

  “Yes, teacher…” The mention of blood from her ears made her uneasy.

  “Alright. I think it’s time for you to show in practice how well you’ve learned my recipes and how good the ingredients you’ve gathered over the past month are. So let’s start with the potion I already mentioned today—the first-class strength potion!”

  “Uh-huh!”

  Qian pulled out her enormous cauldron from her storage. Valm wrinkled his nose at the sight of it.

  “Qian, that thing is only good for feeding livestock… Put that monstrosity away and take this.”

  Valm handed her a standard alchemical cauldron, one very similar to his own.

  “But I paid twenty gold for it!”

  “You were robbed. That trough isn’t even worth silver. All recipes are written for standard cauldrons for a reason. How did you plan to brew potions in that thing? Even I would break my brain doing the calculations!”

  “Understood…”

  It was obvious she felt sorry for the wasted money. But, to be honest, she had bought that monstrosity with Valm’s gold when she had swiped his purse.

  “And one more thing, Qian. I wouldn’t have brought this up, but… Do you know why there are no alchemists among the beastfolk?”

  “We are worse than humans…”

  “No, idiot! Who taught you such nonsense? You’re not worse, you’re different. When a beastfolk encounters a difficult situation or danger, they reflexively shift from human form to beast form. That is the reason I was asking about. The brain of a beast, due to the chemical and biological processes occurring within it, is incapable of fine control! And without that, alchemy is impossible as a discipline! Do you understand?”

  “Yes, teacher! I understand!”

  “What did you understand?”

  “That beastmen can shift…”

  Valm covered his face with his palm and shook his head.

  “No! You were supposed to understand that during alchemy, you must never shift into your beast form! Under no circumstances! Now, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master! No shifting into a beast during alchemy! But I have a question.”

  “What is it?”

  “Can I shift before the process starts?”

  Valm froze. How the hell was this even possible?!

  “No, Qian, you can’t. Only after the process is complete and you’ve bottled the potion, only then can you shift into a rabbit.”

  “Now I understand everything perfectly, Master!”

  At that moment, Valm asked himself if it was too late to refuse. But, remembering how quickly she mastered the roast duck recipe, he decided to give the girl a chance. She was stubborn, persistent, and had a decent memory. Her analysis skills were a bit lacking, but even those like her sometimes grew into decent alchemists.

  “Then let’s begin! First-class Strength Potion! Set up the cauldron, configure the heating temperature for the first phase, and prepare the ingredients.”

  Qian secured a third-class monster core under the alchemical cauldron, causing the magical formation etched into its walls to glow a deep red. Using her aura, she turned the dial on the cauldron’s lid, and the glow gradually shifted from red to pale yellow. Valm nodded in satisfaction—so far, she was doing everything right.

  “Right now, you have little spiritual energy, so you can process the ingredients using your aura…”

  “Got it.”

  Qian filled two-thirds of the cauldron with distilled water, then four bundles of various herbs flew out from her storage.

  “Blue Wama, Laspur, Milchak, Garsis…” she repeated aloud.

  The herb bundles separated into individual stems before crumbling into powder.

  “Separate the Laspur skin,” the alchemist reminded her.

  A portion from the leftmost cloud of powder detached and fell to the ground.

  “Temperature?” he asked, just to ensure Qian didn’t forget to monitor the cauldron.

  The girl’s eyes started to wander. This was her first mistake—processing the ingredients away from the cauldron. She should have done it in front or behind it; that way, she would only need to adjust her focus… But it was too late to think about that now.

  “Stay sharp, Qian! Now!”

  The cauldron’s lid shot into the air, and the prepared ingredients flew inside. The girl sighed in relief and covered it again.

  “Set pressure for the working and safety valves?” the alchemist pressed on.

  “One point fifteen, one point two.”

  “Alright, that should work in this mode. Watch the Blue Wama—it’s about to break down, and you’ll have only three or four seconds to remove the sludge.”

  Qian focused her spiritual energy, but the cauldron’s walls blocked her. She could understand something from the scent, but she couldn’t fully see the process.

  “Master! I… I can’t see! I can’t handle this!”

  Valm furrowed his brow. Should he force her to break through on her own? Repeat his master’s method, or…

  “Watch closely, Qian! You’re about to see what’s happening inside your cauldron with your own eyes!”

  The alchemist raised his right hand, fingers tensed as if gripping an invisible apple. A Heavenly Flame burst from his palm, stopping beside Qian’s cauldron and forming an exact replica of it. A tight stream of water shot out from Valm’s storage, filling the flame-formed cauldron exactly two-thirds full. The water boiled instantly. Four bundles of herbs followed, separating, purifying, and grinding into powder mid-air. The moment the ingredients entered, the Heavenly Flame sealed itself shut at the top.

  Valm closely watched Qian’s cauldron, precisely replicating the entire process in his transparent, fire-formed copy.

  “Now, Qian, my cauldron’s process is a moment ahead of yours. You must make the right decisions—go!”

  Grem, watching from the side, barely dared to breathe. Legends spoke of ancient alchemists who crafted potions without cauldrons, simply in the air… But were those really just legends? Or was Valm himself a legend?

  Qian steeled herself. If her master had decided to help her, then… She had no right to give up! Suppressing the urge to shift into a rabbit with all her might, she deftly used her spiritual energy to expel the sludge through the working valve.

  Then came the swirling… Separation… Mixing… More sludge removal…

  Thanks to Valm’s live demonstration before her very eyes, Qian fully grasped every process happening inside her cauldron and, at last, saw them clearly. From then on, the potion-making process went in perfect sync. Valm even laughed. He was so pleased that he didn’t notice his apprentice’s nosebleed from spiritual exhaustion. He was too entertained watching two people perform an identical process in perfect unison, both in time and space. It almost resembled… a ballroom dance?

  The alchemical transformation was complete in half an hour. A light blue sphere of potion hovered in the air beside the cauldron, which contained the exact same potion inside. Valm noticed that Qian hadn’t turned off her cauldron’s heat, though she should have. He glanced around, saw his unconscious apprentice, sighed, then shut off her cauldron and removed the monster core from the formation. Then, he single-handedly bottled one hundred thirteen and a half bottles of potion and sighed again.

  By old standards—ones everyone tried to forget—there should have been exactly one hundred bottles. Thirteen percent for silence, he reminded himself.

  When Qian woke up, her master was sitting on the house steps, sipping tea from a small cup.

  “My potion!” the girl cried, glancing around in shock.

  Valm pointed at the bottles standing in the yard.

  “Thank you, Master!”

  She correctly guessed who had finished her work and felt ashamed.

  “Did I… fail?”

  “Why would you?” Valm took a sip. “The potion was already finished when you passed out. A few bottles would’ve evaporated if left for too long, that’s all…”

  Qian frowned in deep thought for a few seconds.

  “Then… am I a real alchemist now?”

  “Well, how should I put it… You’re more of an alchemist’s parrot right now. But if you keep training, you’ve got a decent shot at becoming a real one.”

  The girl nodded.

  “Master, can I ask you about the Heavenly Flame?”

  Valm held out his palm, where a white flame danced.

  “This one?”

  “Yeah. They say it’s hard to find…”

  “That’s not true. I bought mine at an auction. It’s not hard to find, but hard to obtain—two different things. If you try to fuse the Heavenly Flame into yourself without a high level of control, it will simply burn you. And that will be the end of your path as an alchemist… and as a person, really.”

  “But why don’t alchemists use such a power in battle? If you wield the strongest flame in the world, then…”

  The small white flame shot from Valm’s palm, struck the girl in the chest, and passed straight through her back. Qian gasped in shock and frantically checked for a hole in her body. The alchemist laughed.

  “Heavenly Flame doesn’t kill or destroy—it only creates. The only exception is when you try to subjugate it by fusing it into yourself. There’s a theory that the Heavenly Flame is a quasi-intelligent being and, during fusion attempts, it temporarily goes into a rage and destroys the attacker.”

  “And is that true?”

  Valm just smiled and said nothing.

  “Well, I see you’ve rested enough. Time to return to training,” he said. “Same task—brew a first-class Strength Potion.”

  “Another one?!” Qian gasped. “Master, what about the rule of one cauldron per month?”

  Valm sighed. What a lazy girl.

  “Rule? What rule? Never heard of it.”

  “But they say—”

  “I don’t care what they say. I’m the one teaching you, not ‘they’! So wipe your nose, get up, and start brewing!”

  “Understood, Master…”