“Ooh…” The guard hesitated. “But she speaks so arrogantly…”

  The shouting at the gates didn’t subside, so Valm hurried over. Over the past few days, the beastkin girl had changed into newer and intact clothing. Unlike their first meeting, when she had worn a simple, ragged dress, the rabbit girl had now come to the Citadel in a hunter-style outfit with a very small hat perched atop her head. It fit precisely between her tall white ears.

  “I see you wasted my money,” Valm said, examining the rabbit girl in the daylight.

  She was sitting under the gates on a gigantic alchemical cauldron turned upside down.

  “Alchemist!” she shouted. “I’ve been yelling my throat dry here for half a day! Is this how you keep your promises?”

  “First of all, I am not ‘alchemist’ to you—I am your teacher! Show more respect unless you want to lose those long ears and be sent away! Understood?!”

  “Ahhh… Yes, teacher!”

  “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “My name is Qian, teacher.”

  “Come in.” Valm opened the gates.

  To his surprise, the delicate rabbit girl easily grabbed the heavy cauldron by its rim and carried it inside the Citadel with one hand. Indeed, beastkin were much stronger than ordinary humans.

  “You’ll stay in the kitchen for now until a house is built for you, understood?”

  “Yes, teacher! And when will you start teaching me? I’m ready!”

  “Teaching, you say…” The alchemist pulled a duck from storage. “Cook this, and then we’ll see.”

  He tossed the dead bird into the rabbit girl’s hands and turned toward the laboratory.

  “I’m not a cook! Teacher…”

  “Cook. The damn. Duck!” Valm growled through clenched teeth.

  Confused, Qian remained standing in the courtyard beside her cauldron, the duck in her hands, unsure of what to do next.

  Was this alchemist… mocking her? He was making her live in the kitchen, though he said it was temporary. He ordered her to cook a duck… That’s how kitchen maids lived, wasn’t it?

  Not to mention, rabbitfolk didn’t eat meat, so Qian had no idea how to prepare it.

  Humans were strange, she decided.

  Qian didn’t have much experience interacting with them. Only a few months had passed since she had turned fifteen—the age of adulthood for beastkin—and left her tribe to travel the great world. It was something all rabbits had to do; otherwise, the tribe wouldn’t be able to feed its many prolific members. The rule was simple: come of age—go make your own way.

  Usually, people eagerly hired rabbits as house servants or field workers, sparing them any worries about their fate. But things didn’t go so smoothly for Qian. She didn’t know how to show respect in conversations or obediently follow orders. Or rather, she did, but her pink tongue usually worked faster than her brain. So every attempt to find work ended in spectacular failure at the very first conversation with a potential employer.

  Qian was desperate. No money, no job… Not even a single copper to buy a carrot.

  Then, by chance, she saw a well-dressed man in town struggling to drink some medicine, clearly on the verge of death.

  She decided to help him. And, of course, rob him afterward—taking all the valuables from his pockets as a reward for her assistance.

  But things didn’t go as planned.

  The moment she shoved the pill into the dying Valm’s mouth, several strong hands grabbed her, clamping a cursed device around her neck that prevented her from shifting into her beast form. And in her human form, she had no chance of escape.

  They dragged her into the guild’s basement, chained her to a chair, and gave her a beating. Not too severe compared to the fights in her tribe, but humiliating nonetheless. And the people hitting her kept accusing her of attempting to murder the esteemed alchemist.

  That was the moment she hatched her plan—to become an alchemist herself.

  She had no doubt that Valm was alive; she could sense his aura several floors above her. Now she just needed to wait for him to come and force him to teach her alchemy.

  Then her life would be set.

  Every beastkin knew that alchemists made money hand over fist and were held in the highest regard by society.

  After easily extracting a promise from Valm—and swiping his coin pouch for good measure—Qian was certain that fortune had finally smiled upon her.

  But now… Now her red eyes were on the verge of tears.

  Cooking a duck was definitely not alchemy. Even an idiot could see that.

  And she was no idiot.

  Well, maybe just a little.

  She looked around and saw a warrior in a white straw hat watching her closely.

  “Where’s the kitchen?”

  The warrior gestured toward a large building near the fence.

  “Follow me.”

  He led her inside, and just as she set her cauldron down on the floor, he firmly grabbed her ears.

  “Now listen here, rabbit girl. If you ever disrespect Master Valm again or even think of harming him, I will tan your white fluffy hide so badly you won’t be able to hop for a month. Got it? I know you’re strong in your beast form, but you still wouldn’t stand a chance against me! Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir! Let go!”

  “My name is Grem. Just call me Grem,” he said, releasing her ears.

  “Alright, si… Grem. You care a lot about my teacher…”

  The guard adjusted his hat.

  “He’s my client. I protect him.”

  “You don’t do a very good job… A few days ago, teacher nearly died…”

  She instantly received a light smack on the head.

  “He wasn’t my client back then, you idiot!”

  “Aaaah…” Qian fell silent for a moment. “Grem, what kind of person is my teacher?”

  “Master Valm? He’s an incredible alchemist, the best in the kingdom!” Grem paused. “He’s generous and kind… But not as simple as he seems. Sometimes, he even scares me, especially with his experiments. And remember—he never says anything without a reason. Every word and action of his has meaning.”

  “Experiments? What do you mean?”

  “This place, the Citadel,” the guard spun his finger in the air. “Master Valm studies monsters here. I don’t know exactly what for, but there are cages full of creatures in the back courtyard.”

  “Whoa…”

  They fell silent.

  Just as Grem was about to leave, Qian stopped him with another question.

  “How do I cook a duck?”

  She lifted the unfortunate bird by its head.

  “A duck?” Grem shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m not a cook. But you definitely need to pluck it first and then boil it.”

  With that, the guard left the kitchen, leaving Qian alone.

  “Pluck it first, then boil it… Got it!”

  Qian straddled her alchemical cauldron and enthusiastically began plucking feathers from the bird.

  While dissecting yet another monster, Valm knew that the duck preparation task would be incredibly difficult for his apprentice, but he had no intention of making things easier for her. Of course, he could have taken the easy route and forced her to memorize hundreds of complex recipes like other alchemists’ students did, and then it wouldn’t be his problem anymore…

  But as mentioned before, Valm was a damn perfectionist when it came to alchemy. The nose of an alchemist… It had to become a living laboratory with numerous detectors, allowing instant understanding of the processes occurring in an alchemical cauldron. His teacher had understood this better than anyone, and later, so did he. And cooking was the best way to achieve it.

  “What do you think, will she manage?” he asked the monster while opening its skull. “Yeah, I think so too—not a chance. Whoa, if not for your hypertrophied hypothalamus, I’d think I was looking at a lizard’s brain!”

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  Valm placed the skull cap on the floor and quickly noted down an observation about the underdeveloped prefrontal cortex.

  “And how did your species even manage to survive without aggression inhibitors? Your strength is pathetic…”

  The monster started convulsing when Valm carefully removed a small portion of its brain, and its core flared up brighter.

  “You feel pain from this?! But that’s impossible, the brains of living beings can’t… wait a minute!”

  A vague idea was swirling in the alchemist’s mind. He rushed to the shelves of medical equipment to grab the necessary instruments, but he was too late—the monster had already died before he returned.

  “Heeeeeeeh,” the alchemist sighed. “This one too…”

  He returned the equipment to its place and began studying the monster’s structure, making sketches and notes. This time, Valm wasn’t at all worried about not having had enough time to research everything he wanted—the trade guild would bring him as many creatures as he needed.

  Valm left the laboratory late in the evening and found Qian waiting patiently at the doorstep.

  “Why do you look so happy?”

  “I cooked the duck, Master! Please come to the dining room!”

  Valm smiled.

  “You’ve even intrigued me…”

  He sat down and sniffed the air in the house. Damn! It was even worse than he had expected. Beaming, Qian placed a tray with the bird in front of him. Dozens of boils, like gray pustules, stuck out from the duck’s white skin, and its dirty beak seemed to mock him: “How do you like me? Pretty? Tasty?”

  “Qian… If I throw this duck into a tub of water right now, it will start quacking happily. Do you understand that?”

  The joy on the rabbit-girl’s face turned into confusion. She had plucked it, boiled it… What the hell was wrong now?

  “You boiled it with its guts, you fool! The intestines have to be removed!”

  But… Grem hadn’t said a word about that! He had only told her to pluck and boil it…

  The unfortunate bird, along with the tray, went flying straight at Qian’s head.

  “Throw this garbage to the monsters in the cages. And cook the duck properly!”

  Valm pulled a new bird from storage and shoved it into the girl’s hands. Then, pressing his lips together until they turned white, he headed for his bedroom. The door slammed shut.

  Upset, Qian sat on the floor, hugging the bird her master had given her. How? Why? Maybe Grem knew something? She jumped to her feet and ran off to find the guard.

  After hearing her out, Grem burst into laughter.

  “Wait, wait! Say that again—you really boiled it with the guts?! Ahahahaha, I can’t!… Poor Master Valm, I can just imagine what it’s like for him when his only apprentice tries to feed him crap! Ahahahaha!”

  “Grem! But what do I do now?”

  “Ooooh, Qian, hold on, let me laugh some more,” the guard wiped his eyes several times. “Listen, the cook will arrive in the morning—ask her for help, okay?”

  He drew his dagger and swiftly beheaded the duck that Qian was holding by its feet.

  “And drain the blood, or even a cook won’t be able to help you if it congeals inside the carcass, got it?”

  The strike was so fast that Qian barely saw it happen. “So quick!” she thought. The guard was only a step stronger than her in her beast form, but his speed was astounding. A thin stream of blood trickled to the ground from the bird’s neck.

  “Drain the blood?” She didn’t understand.

  “Of course. In Master Valm’s storage ring, time stops for objects, so you have to do it immediately after he gives you a bird.”

  “Oh! Got it!”

  “Well then, Master… Tomorrow, I’ll surprise you!” she decided as she carried her failed culinary experiment to feed the monsters.

  Shutting the bedroom door, Valm immediately collapsed face-first onto his bed, his shoulders shaking. With laughter he couldn’t suppress. This was unbelievable… Maybe she would finally realize that alchemy wasn’t her path and leave? Valm would be perfectly fine with that.

  In the morning, Valm noticed Qian intently gutting a headless bird. Grem was meditating in the courtyard after taking another pill the alchemist had created. “Did she figure it out on her own?” Valm wondered as he walked toward the laboratory.

  Standing at the central control panel, he pushed all other thoughts aside and focused as he dragged a new monster into the lab. This time, he changed the order of operations, beginning immediately with a craniotomy to study the brain’s structure.

  One could say that during this experiment, the monster remained stable, although its heart rate and blood pressure spiked due to fear. Perhaps he should try removing the adrenal glands so that adrenaline would stop entering the bloodstream? Valm picked up a scalpel and approached the restrained monster from behind.

  The idea, in the alchemist’s opinion, wasn’t bad, but the monster still died from pain shock before he even finished cutting open its chest.

  Thus, the experiment concluded with the finding that adrenaline was crucial for monsters, allowing them to suppress fear and continue attacking relentlessly even when maimed. Underdeveloped prefrontal cortex, hypertrophied hypothalamus, dependence on adrenaline… With each new study, the mosaic became more expansive and colorful. And more difficult to decipher.

  After quickly completing the anatomical analysis and cleaning up, Valm left the laboratory, deciding to take a short lunch break.

  From the Citadel courtyard, he caught the scent of roasted duck. It surprised him so much that he stopped in his tracks, pondering what the trick was. He had no doubt that this was some kind of deception by his apprentice.

  “You want to play games? Fine!” Valm decided, confidently heading inside.

  “Master! I cooked the duck! And this time, without the crap, I swear!”

  “Oh, you’re surprising me!” the alchemist feigned ignorance.

  He waited eagerly in the dining room to see what Qian had come up with this time. She quickly appeared and placed a roasted duck in front of him.

  Valm closed his eyes and focused on the scent. He took another deep breath before picking up the knife and fork. Carefully, he separated a leg, examining the joint. Then he placed it on the plate and sniffed the sauce. He grimaced.

  “This time, the duck won’t be flying at your head only because the cook prepared it instead of you.”

  “Master, how did you…”

  Valm raised a hand, stopping her.

  “Give it to Grem. It’s roasted well enough for his standards, but it’s absolute garbage for mine. If you want, I can tell you what’s wrong with it.”

  Qian quickly nodded, turning her ears toward the alchemist.

  “Just so you know, duck is one of the most demanding poultry to prepare. It has tough skin that must not be dried out and a thick layer of fat beneath it. The meat itself is quite firm. So, it needs to be roasted at low temperatures to keep the skin tender while allowing the slowly melting fat to be fully absorbed into the meat. And this particular specimen, as you can see… The skin may have a pleasant color, but it’s as tough as a boot sole. All the fat has simply drained away, leaving the meat tough and tasteless. Conclusion: it was roasted too quickly at a temperature ten or twelve degrees higher than necessary.

  Now, about the prune sauce. Not a bad choice when honey and ginger aren’t available, but… Dried prunes must be roasted before being pureed to fully release their sugar! And instead of that, you”—Valm jabbed a finger into the sauce, licked it, then quickly wiped his tongue with a napkin—“added cane sugar! And all just to mask the natural acidity of the fruit! What idiots! Get this garbage away from me!”

  Valm was fuming. He was less offended by the attempt at deception than by how badly executed it was. Frightened by his outburst, Qian snatched up the plate of duck and dashed outside. The sauce dish flew after her.

  “You forgot the sauce!”

  Without realizing it, Valm was now acting exactly like his own teacher, the grumpy old man everyone called the Toxic Dragon. He went to the kitchen, quickly prepared a simple tomato omelet for himself, and sat down to eat. He tore into the hard crust of black bread with strong teeth and scraped his fork against the bottom of his plate.

  “Grem, the master ordered you to have this…” Qian placed the plate in front of the guard. “But the sauce, unfortunately, well…”

  The Battle Master chuckled and tore off a wing.

  “Not bad!” he concluded. “Master Valm didn’t like it again?”

  “Nope. Not only did he immediately figure out that the cook had made it, but he also said that, in simple terms, it was no good.”

  “Well, if he said that, he must have explained why, right?”

  “Yeah… But I still didn’t understand any of it.”

  Grem wiped his greasy hands with a napkin and pushed the plate aside.

  “Think about his words, kid. Try to recall exactly what he said and how he said it, and reflect on it. I’ll leave you to it.”

  Grem pulled his white straw hat low over his eyes and walked away. He actually found Valm and his apprentice’s interactions amusing. Life in the Citadel was dull for the Battle Master, so this was at least some form of entertainment.

  He settled in a quiet corner and resumed meditating. A few days ago, the alchemist had surprised him by giving him pills to raise his level. Grem had expected that to happen much later—perhaps in the second half of their agreed period—but for it to come so soon, within the first few days of his service… It seemed Valm had decided to trust him.

  The Battle Master focused on the changes in his body and marveled again at how smoothly it all was happening. He had heard countless stories from other warriors who had increased their level using alchemy. According to them, it was supposed to be difficult and painful. But with Valm’s pills, it was the opposite. As the alchemist had warned, the first two days had left him feeling weak, as if he had dropped a rank, but now… A tremendous power surged inside him, urging him to move, to act, to do something… Yet, Grem had approached breakthroughs before, so he remained as composed as possible. In the sleepy Citadel, that wasn’t difficult.

  But it wasn’t just his physical body that was changing. Grem noticed his thinking becoming sharper and deeper, his memory surfacing details he had long forgotten. Quite by accident, he recalled where he had previously sensed the aura left by the assassin on that strange needle when it was stabbed into Valm’s back.

  Grem didn’t know the man’s name, but he had no doubt—he was from Gray Ravens.

  Years ago, the guard had helped an adventurer who had been attacked by the Ravens. Grem wasn’t overly bloodthirsty, so he had simply let the attackers go after breaking a few of their bones… Looks like he shouldn’t have let them go after all.

  Now, however, he faced a dilemma that kept him from fully concentrating on his meditation. Should he tell Valm, or keep quiet and leave things as they were? He had no way of predicting the alchemist’s reaction to such news. Would he become afraid and lock himself inside the Citadel? Or, on the contrary, would he order Grem to attack Gray Ravens himself?

  One thing was certain—those bastards would try to kill Valm again.

  Grem wasn’t afraid of them. Even now, at an intermediate level, he could easily defeat any one of them in a one-on-one fight. And after his breakthrough to the next rank of Battle Master? No contest. But the problem was, there were a lot of Gray Ravens—no fewer than fifty killers. If they all came at once, he wouldn’t just fail to protect Valm; he probably wouldn’t survive himself.

  That troubled him.

  From Grem’s perspective, there was no good option right now.

  So he decided that telling Valm the truth was the best course of action. The guard believed that the intelligent and level-headed alchemist would find the right way to deal with Gray Ravens once and for all. After all, his very survival depended on it.

  Valm sat in the dining hall, staring at his empty plate, berating himself for the outburst he had unleashed on Qian. Yes, she was still a fool, but she had at least tried to do her best. At least from her own perspective.

  The alchemist pulled out a stylus and some sheets of paper and began writing.

  A recipe for roasted duck.

  The one his teacher had never given him, the one he had developed on his own after countless trials and even more mistakes.

  This wasn’t just a simple recipe listing ingredients and temperatures—no. Valm carefully detailed every step, explaining why it was necessary and what would happen as a result. Each spice, its importance, its color, its grind consistency, its aroma… And most importantly, how to combine everything correctly to achieve the best result.

  When he finished, he read through it again, nodding to himself in a rhythm only he understood.

  Perfect.

  An explanation so clear and detailed that even a child could grasp it.

  Humming to himself, he stepped outside to hand the papers to his apprentice. She was just returning from the monster pens, where she had fed the kitchen scraps to the creatures. Upon seeing her teacher, she flinched, hesitated between two directions, then finally froze in place. It would be odd for a student to start avoiding her teacher, she decided.

  “Once more, Qian, prepare a duck!”

  Valm pulled a fresh bird from his storage and placed it in her hands.

  “And this”—he set the papers on top—“is a recipe with instructions and explanations. I hope this time you get it right.”

  Qian was shocked by her teacher’s behavior; she simply couldn’t understand why he was acting like this.

  “Yes, Master! I will!”

  Before his eyes, she tore off the duck’s head with a single motion to let the blood drain.

  Valm recoiled.

  She’s insane! That’s what knives are for—they were invented for this!

  “Uh… well… all right then… I’ll be going, and you should too—go handle your tasks…”

  But just as he took a few steps toward the lab, Grem called out to him.

  “Master Valm, wait! I have something to tell you!”

  “Is it urgent?”

  “That’s for you to decide. I just need to report… Do you remember that needle you were attacked with?”

  Qian, who had already walked a few meters away, stopped and turned her ears toward Valm and Grem.

  “Yes. What about it?”

  “Today, during meditation, I remembered who that aura on the handle belongs to! It’s a member of Gray Ravens!”