Valm didn’t want to wake up. Through his gentle morning slumber, he felt something warm and fluffy against his back, making him clutch the large pillow under his cheek even tighter. If only it weren’t for that foreign breathing behind him…

  Breathing?! There shouldn’t be any breathing behind him…

  Sleep vanished in an instant. The alchemist turned around in a flash, locking eyes with a broad, flattened pink nose beneath which short but sharp fangs were visible. Raising his gaze higher, he met a pair of predatory, blood-red eyes.

  “Dammit, Qian! What are you doing in my bed?!”

  “Oh, teacher, you were sleeping so sweetly, so why are you shouting now?”

  “Don’t try to fool me! I asked, what are you doing in my bed?!”

  Qian rolled onto her back and placed both paws behind her head.

  “What am I doing…? Warming you up, teacher. You were trembling so much that I didn’t even know what to do. I put two blankets over you, but you were still shivering… I wanted to add a third, but I was afraid it would crush you.”

  “And so you…”

  “Yep, I decided to warm you up this way. It was warm, wasn’t it?” The girl turned onto her side again, playfully glancing at Valm. “Come on, admit it, it was warm, wasn’t it?”

  Her already narrow red eyes grew even more predatory with mischief. And those sharp fangs flashing right next to his nose…

  “Yeah, warm…” he decided not to escalate things. “And now get out of my bed!”

  So much for not escalating…

  Qian sighed, which sounded more like a growl, and sat up on the bed, her back to him. Then she began transforming into her human form.

  So that’s how it works… That fluffy fur doesn’t shed—it retracts into the body. Interesting.

  “Have you seen enough, teacher?” the girl asked while putting on her underwear.

  “Oh, sorry. Yes, I’ve seen enough. How long?”

  “How long what?”

  “How long was I asleep, of course. What else would I be asking?”

  “Almost three days.”

  “Thank you, Qian. I know you took care of me as best you could.”

  The girl snorted in an unclear manner and left the room. But a moment later, she peeked back in.

  “Teacher, stay in bed for now. I’ll roast a duck for you!”

  “And what about Grem?”

  “Oh, same as always—a log among logs…”

  Valm smiled. If he was still alive, then he wouldn’t die.

  This time, three days… That was good—it meant he had grown much more resilient over the past few years. The last time he had prepared a ninth-class pill on the orders of that crazy bitch, he had been unconscious for nearly a month. But that was when he became a stepson of the Law of Alchemy, which ultimately granted him freedom. Even she, that lunatic, hadn’t dared to risk his life and had let Valm escape. Whether she had done it intentionally or not, the alchemist still wasn’t sure.

  With an effort of will, he forced himself to stop dwelling on those dark times and turned his thoughts to Grem. After taking the ninth-class body transformation pill, there should be no limits to his development. The level of a Battle Ancestor would no longer be an unbreakable ceiling for him.

  Valm chuckled quietly. Grem was in for a surprise when he woke up!

  But then he sighed. Now, the alchemist couldn’t even guess when that would happen. The body transformation pill he had made was the first of its kind in history. And as for calculations… Grem had been severely wounded, and at the time, it had been impossible to determine his true condition. Right now, any calculations would be as useful as fortune-telling with flower petals.

  Valm got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He needed to check on the Battle Master and assess his condition. After all, Qian’s “a log among logs” wasn’t exactly informative.

  The hot water streams refreshed the alchemist, washing away all worries.

  When he entered the house where Grem lay motionless on the table, Valm finally understood the girl’s phrase. He examined the body, where the traces of surgical intervention were barely visible. The wounds had healed quite well…

  Valm used his claw to cut the stitches and pulled out the threads. The small openings in the skin closed up before his eyes.

  The ninth-class body transformation pill was working even better than his boldest expectations. The alchemist checked Grem’s pulse—strong, steady… If all went well, in a few months—maybe half a year—the Battle Master would awaken as a Battle Ancestor.

  Valm smiled again. Maybe he should write a paper on this transformation? It would cause a sensation in the world of martial arts!

  Leaving Grem’s house, Valm wrote a short letter to Mahur, the head of the craftsman’s guild, and asked Qian to deliver it.

  “Teacher, what about the potion I need to brew?”

  “Shush! Do you want me to repair the road to the Citadel myself? My capsule wouldn’t even make it past the gates!”

  Thus, sending the girl off to the city, Valm finished his breakfast and headed to the laboratory.

  Just as a door-shaped opening appeared in the metal wall, the alchemist felt a chill down his spine. He turned sharply, but no one was there. Still, the sensation was unpleasant, almost physically real.

  “What the hell…” he thought as he closed the door behind him.

  Later, he dismissed it as mere nervous exhaustion from the grueling work of creating a ninth-class pill. Yet, work progressed more slowly than usual. That day, his research into the anatomy of monsters brought him no joy. He worked mechanically, and his mind failed to generate any logical insights or hypotheses.

  Perhaps that was why he finished earlier than usual.

  Even Qian noticed. Her teacher never left the laboratory before eleven at night. Yet now, with the sun still up, he was wandering the courtyard. Sitting on the porch for a while, then standing by his training equipment like a scarecrow.

  “Teacher, is something bothering you?”

  But Valm just waved his hand without answering.

  Not wanting to alarm his student with his behavior, he went to bed, where he tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep. But sleep brought no peace. Over and over again, his dreams were haunted by someone he had long tried to forget. Someone who had once made him tremble—not with joy, but with fear.

  “What the hell…” he whispered to himself the next morning. “Why am I remembering her again? No! Today, only work!”

  With that command to himself, Valm completed his morning exercises, then spent two hours practicing third-circle alchemy with Qian, before finally shutting himself in the laboratory once more.

  Days passed, and at last, Valm regained his much-desired inner peace.

  Grem remained motionless on the table. Qian diligently brewed potions.

  And Valm dissected monsters—until there were no more left.

  The alchemist closed the third volume of the “Encyclopedia” and stretched lazily. He was almost halfway there… Only the monsters of the fourth through seventh classes remained, and his work would be complete. Though his inability to find an effective poison against the creatures was a bit disappointing, and he acknowledged it.

  There was another problem. Monsters of the fourth and higher classes were very rarely encountered on the surface. So rarely that there were probably only a few dozen in the entire kingdom. And that meant only one thing—Valm would have to descend into the dungeon himself. No guild would be able to supply him with monsters of these classes alive. Corpses—sure, as many as he wanted. But alive? Only in one case—during a dungeon break.

  But he didn’t need monster corpses. After all, he wasn’t a butcher. Valm pulled out a recommendation letter from storage, the one given to him by the academy professor over a year ago, and twirled it in his fingers. The B-rank adventurer team “Silver Dragons.” The strongest team in the region. With them, he could descend to a level with fourth-class monsters without excessive risk. And as for solving the problem of mixed weak and strong monsters on the same dungeon level—Valm already had an idea.

  Typically, in the dungeons of this continent, even on the first level, high-class monsters occasionally appeared, leading to numerous adventurer casualties. But there was one exception to this rule—dungeons after a break. When the catastrophe ended and the dungeon lay empty, its levels remained isolated from one another for several decades while the monster population recovered. During this time, creatures couldn’t wander between levels, but people… people could!

  So, Valm decided, it was time to put that recommendation letter to use.

  The next morning, he was already traveling along the newly repaired road to the city. Passersby, even those he didn’t know, greeted his capsule with a wave or a smile. At first, the alchemist was surprised, but he quickly figured out the reason for this attitude toward him. The terrifying natural phenomenon caused by the creation of a ninth-class pill, followed by the appearance of the God of War near the city, had made him famous. Very famous.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Sitting at the capsule’s controls, Valm had to nod and smile in response, so by the time he reached the headquarters of the Silver Dragons, both his cheeks and his neck were aching. He sat motionless for a while after stopping, trying to regain his facial expressions and relax his cramped muscles.

  The headquarters was located in a large mansion almost in the city center, which must have cost the team a fortune. But as the top-ranked team, they had to maintain their status. The alchemist shook his head. Status… The most useless thing in his personal system of values, yet most people chased after it with all their might. What nonsense…

  Valm stepped out of the capsule and pressed the doorbell button at the gate. He expected at least a few questions before entry, but instead, the large gates simply swung open before him, inviting him inside.

  Walking along the wide yellow-brick path leading to the tall porch, he pulled the letter from storage.

  Being just an ordinary human, Valm couldn’t sense how many eyes were watching him… And among them was one pair filled with fear and hatred.

  Ladbor.

  When he felt the alchemist’s aura approaching headquarters, he sobered up instantly. Not long ago, while watching the sky near the city, he had truly understood who the alchemist was. And when he sensed the aura of the God of War flashing above the city, he had nearly suffered a panic attack.

  And though he blamed the alchemist for all his troubles—his fallout with the mayor and the indefinite postponement of his wedding to Sari—he had grasped one simple truth: he needed to stay as far away from Valm as possible.

  But now this bastard had come to him!

  And the adventurer had every reason to believe that Valm might have come specifically for his head.

  However, suppressing his panic, he ordered the alchemist to be let in. If Valm had any ill intentions toward him, he wouldn’t have come so openly—he would have sent… well, the God of War himself, who had recently visited the Citadel.

  “Good day, I’d like to place an order for an escort mission. I have a recommendation from…” Valm began to say to the warrior who had opened the entrance door for him.

  “Please come in, Master Alchemist. Our captain has ordered that you be taken directly to the negotiation room.”

  The warrior led Valm into the room, where three members of the main team were already waiting.

  “Welcome, Master Alchemist. What brings you to the Silver Dragons?” Ladbor asked impatiently.

  “Good day, my name is Valm. Here is my recommendation letter from the previous captain of the Dragons. I’d like to hire your group for an escort mission.”

  The adventurer took the letter and set it aside after barely glancing at it.

  “No recommendations are worth more than your true reputation, Master Valm! If you allow me to introduce myself, I am Ladbor, the team captain, an attacker, rank B. This is Skrait, a defender, rank B,” the adventurer gestured toward the giant sitting by the window. “And this is Tani, a fifth-circle mage, also rank B.”

  Valm quickly looked them over. Rank B was equivalent to a mid- or even high-level Battle Master. A strong team for this kingdom. If the other members were of the same level, he could even venture into fifth-class monster territory with them.

  “Then I won’t waste your time, gentlemen, and I’ll get straight to the point. I would like to hire your team to escort me into a dungeon. The mission is long-term—around three months, I believe.”

  “Master Valm, as the captain, I need more details about the mission to approve it and determine a fair price.”

  “I study monsters, and the mission’s goal is to research fourth-class monsters. To preempt your concerns about mixed monster strengths on the levels, I’ll say right away that my target is the Tik-Tak Dungeon. I assume you’ve heard of it.”

  The adventurers exchanged glances. Of course, they had.

  “Master Valm, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Tik-Tak is heavily damaged, and traversing it is no simple task,” Ladbor frowned.

  “Difficult, but possible, isn’t it?”

  Silence fell. In truth, Ladbor had already made his decision, but for formality’s sake, he waited for his teammates’ input.

  “Only fourth-class? No question about it…” Skrait rumbled in his deep bass voice.

  “Not a problem for me either. I’m sure the others won’t mind…” the mage’s voice was clear and slightly grating on the ears.

  Ladbor smiled. That settled it.

  “Very well, Master Valm. The Silver Dragons accept this mission. As for the price, it will be ten thousand gold per month for the duration in the dungeon, two thousand gold for travel time, plus incidental expenses up to five percent of the total campaign cost. Do you agree?”

  The mage, unable to hold back, let out a quiet croak and stared at the captain. That price was almost double their usual rate. The alchemist also raised an eyebrow in displeasure. The cost was as if he were hiring an A-rank team. But the alternatives weren’t great either.

  “I agree.”

  By agreeing, Valm knew full well that he currently lacked the funds for this deal. So he immediately added,

  “As for the payment schedule, the best option for me would be to pay a seventy percent advance of the contract itself now, with the remaining thirty percent, along with travel and incidental costs, paid upon mission completion. Would that be acceptable to your team?”

  This condition was different from standard dungeon mission contracts. Due to high risks, full payment was always required upfront. But aside from not having enough funds at the moment, Valm also figured that an unpaid portion would make the adventurers more inclined to protect him in the dungeon.

  Ladbor grinned. The advance alone exceeded their usual hiring fee.

  “Of course! Shall we sign the contract now?”

  A few minutes went into filling out the standard Adventurer Guild contract form, after which Valm pulled an entire chest of gold coins from storage.

  “Would you like to count it?” he asked Ladbor.

  “That’s unnecessary, Mr. Valm. A person of such prominence wouldn’t risk their reputation for a few gold coins.”

  The alchemist gave a sour smile. He had been stripped clean like a helpless child.

  “So then, Mr. Valm,” Ladbor said, escorting the alchemist to the door, “we’ll be expecting you exactly two weeks from now!”

  “Yes, farewell, Mr. Ladbor.”

  As the adventurer returned to the negotiation room, Tani rushed up to him.

  “Ladbor, have you completely lost your mind?! Ten thousand a month?!”

  “What are you unhappy about? That Valm makes so much money from his pills that we could never even dream of! How much do you think that War God paid him the other day?”

  Skrait didn’t bother listening to the rest of the argument and left the room. What was the point when the alchemist had already paid?

  Meanwhile, sitting in his capsule, Valm was pondering where to find cash in the next two weeks. He could, of course, sell a large quantity of potions, but the price for a bulk sale would be pathetic. He sighed and headed toward the Merchant Guild.

  The alchemist never quite understood how Pak managed to meet him in the foyer every single time, the moment Valm stepped over the guild’s threshold. But today, as always, it was the same—his trademark smile, immaculate hairstyle, and a suit as if fresh from the tailor’s needle.

  “Mr. Valm! A pleasure to see you again! Need more monsters?”

  The alchemist smiled helplessly.

  “Not really… Today, I need money…”

  For a moment, Pak was struck speechless. An alchemist asking for money?! What in the devil’s name was happening to this world?!

  “Well, our bank can offer you a loan. As a valued client, your interest rates would be—”

  “I think I misspoke. I want to put a pill up for auction this Sunday.”

  Pak’s eyes gleamed.

  “Mr. Valm, I believe we should continue this conversation in my office.”

  “So, which pill are we talking about, Mr. Valm?” he asked once they were comfortably seated in his office chairs.

  The alchemist pulled out a small gray casket and opened it. A faintly sweet, fruity aroma lingered in the air. Inside, lined with black velvet, lay a large, translucent pink pill. If one looked closely, they could see eight strange pink clouds slowly swirling and intertwining within it.

  Pak froze and leaned in toward the casket.

  “The Eighth-Class Youth and Beauty Pill,” Valm said.

  He had plenty of these in his storage—failed attempts at creating a Ninth-Class pill for that crazy witch. The alchemist sighed. Another bitter reminder.

  “Mr… Mr. Valm! I’m not sure our auction is worthy of presenting such a treasure! There simply won’t be any buyers in the kingdom capable of offering you a fair price!”

  “That’s fine, Mr. Pak. A starting price of fifty thousand will do. I’m sure it’ll quickly find a new owner.”

  “That may be true, but—”

  “It’s alright, this is my decision. Please list it for the upcoming Sunday auction.”

  “Of course, as you wish. Mr. Valm, I feel like you’re rushing this. Otherwise, I would suggest—”

  “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Pak. I’ll be leaving the city for a few months.”

  “Ah, it’s good to take a break sometimes, go on a vacation—”

  “If only… But this journey is work-related, so not this time.”

  “Oh, Mr. Valm, that’s unfortunate to hear,” Pak said, tucking the pill away and standing up to escort the alchemist. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself. Working too much isn’t good for you.”

  “Yes, yes,” Valm shook hands with Manager Pak. “Farewell.”

  “Goodbye! If you’d like to attend the auction, come at four on Sunday. Or at nine if you prefer not to!”

  The alchemist just waved in response. He didn’t like auctions and only attended when he wanted to bid on something interesting himself. Well, the cash problem was practically solved; now, he just needed to make the final preparations for his journey.

  First, he visited the market, meticulously selecting and purchasing plenty of food and spices. Once that was done, he decided he wouldn’t always have time or opportunity to cook, so he spent the rest of the day visiting several restaurants, ordering almost the entire menu at each one. In truth, the alchemist disliked food prepared by others, as he couldn’t help but methodically analyze its smell and taste, identifying dozens, if not hundreds, of mistakes made by the cooks. But, oh well, he decided.

  The next day, he tackled another important task—thoroughly cleaning his laboratory. Despite daily cleanups of blood and monster remains, dust had still gathered in the corners. By midday, he realized he had overestimated his stamina. Doing it all with just two hands turned out to be exhausting. Thus, the cursed cleaning dragged on for two days.

  Satisfied with his work, Valm locked up the laboratory and took one last look at it before storing it away. When the massive metal cube disappeared into the ring on his finger, the yard took on a desolate look, revealing the now-empty monster cages.

  Qian, who had just stepped out of Grem’s house, let out a surprised gasp.

  “Master, what happened? Are we moving?”

  “We aren’t, but I’ll be leaving for a few months.”

  The girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “As your devoted disciple, I—”

  “Are staying in the Citadel,” Valm finished for her.

  “Why-y-y?!”

  “Because I need you to look after Grem.”

  “But if something happens to him, what could I possibly do?”

  “Nothing will happen to him. He’ll just keep lying there until he wakes up.”

  “And if nothing happens, then why can’t I—”

  “Because I’m going somewhere dangerous.”

  “Where?”

  “The dungeon.”

  “Then I definitely have to go with you, Master! Someone has to protect you from the monsters, since you’re so fragile!”

  “I’ve already hired an entire team for that.”

  “With me, you’ll be twice as protected!”

  “Shut it, rabbit ears! You’ll just get in their way!”

  “But Masteeer—”

  “Shut it, I said! You’re staying here and focusing on alchemy! And if you don’t do well, I’ll test my experimental potions on you!”

  Qian stared into Valm’s eyes, then at his claws…

  “The same ones you drink? Well, I guess I could try—”

  “No! Even more experimental! I’m scared to even sniff them. Want some?”

  “Never mind! I’ll just stay here and brew some potions…”

  She pretended to busy herself and was about to leave when Valm stopped her.

  “Give me your blood.”

  “Okay, now that’s just too much! Such intimate requests shouldn’t be made so—”

  “For setting up the bracelet, idiot! How else are you going to control the Citadel without me?”

  “Ohhh, well, why didn’t you just say so?”

  The alchemist adjusted the bracelet, granting Qian the same access rights he had.

  The following days, he dedicated entirely to his apprentice, teaching her the secrets of third-level alchemy, as well as some tricks that made experimenting with new formulas easier. This was no longer standard alchemy. He spoke of things he had discovered on his own—things not even his teacher, the Toxic Dragon, had known.

  On Sunday evening, Valm headed to the Merchant Guild. Despite the late hour, the foyer was packed with excited auction-goers, eagerly discussing the final lot—a Class Eight pill that had sold for nearly eighty thousand gold coins.

  Valm smiled as he walked toward Pak’s office. Not bad. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t even notice Pak hadn’t greeted him as usual.

  The guildmaster sat at his desk, silent and pale, when Valm opened the door without knocking. The alchemist was just about to greet him when his nose caught a faint trace of a familiar perfume.

  And who, if not Valm, would recognize it?

  “Damn it! This is impossible! How did she…”

  The thought barely formed before the alchemist sprang backward toward the door.

  But he was too late.

  A slender feminine finger barely touched the door, and it slammed shut with a terrifying crash, sending ceiling decorations tumbling to the floor.

  Valm’s heart stopped, gripped by horror, and all thoughts vanished from his mind.

  “Darling, where are you rushing off to?” a melodic female voice asked.