Chapter 25: Arrival at the Academy
Chapter 25: Arrival at the Academy
The convoy of new students’ carriages from Rosak City gathered with others outside the checkpoint at the border between the two provinces.
Six black carriages, fully loaded, formed a flowing chain, winding along the mountain roads, heading steadily northward.
Xia Zuo was silently reciting the foundational textbook on Poisonous Alchemy.
A heavy sigh came from across the table.
“Senior Mars.”
Xiao Moben was still unaccustomed to the formal titles used within the academy.
It took him two days after boarding the carriage to adjust to his new status, changing his address for Mars from “my lord,” “sir,” or “mister” to the current “senior.”
Xiao Moben rested his head on the table, a thick, heavy book closed before him. His face, tanned and weathered by the furnace fire, showed signs of frustration.
“I’m not cut out for reading; I just can’t remember the words.”
Xiao Moben’s broad shoulders and sturdy back bore the marks of years spent pushing and pulling the bellows for his father’s forge, building a solid frame of muscle. Unfortunately, having more muscle in the head didn’t help with memory.
He would much rather spend the whole day tinkering by the furnace than sit still at the desk reading.
The text, with its flowing characters like shooting stars linked in circles, felt like hypnotic notes lulling him to sleep.
Since boarding, he hadn’t finished a single book—let alone memorized the dense, awkward knowledge within.
“Xiao Moben, don’t be discouraged.”
Mars took a seat beside him. “You’re entering the Department of Extraordinary Alchemy. There will be few reading courses; most will be practical.”
“But... can I handle the practical ones?”
Xiao Moben looked down at his rough, swollen fingers, his despondency deepening.
“Xiao Moben!”
Mars reached out to clasp his shoulder but found he was just a bit too far. He patted Xiao Moben’s back instead.
“Don’t wear such a gloomy face. From what I see, you’ll be studying the department’s advanced creation discipline. Your tutor is Bolton—like you, not fond of reading, but has exceptional control over furnace temperatures.”
At the mention of “furnace temperature,” Xiao Moben straightened abruptly, his clenched fists resting on the table. The words seemed to ignite a spark of belief within him, and his expression grew steadily confident.
Mars gave his back a firmer pat. “Trust me, the professors’ judgment in selecting students is never wrong. Once you finish this book, the rest of the courses will be a breeze.”
Xiao Moben nodded silently, pressed his lips together, turned the page, and resumed reading.
---
Xia Zuo glanced at his companion’s progress—only page 13 so far.
For a tome over two thousand pages long, “Alchemical Linguistics” only truly began at page 35; the earlier parts were just the table of contents and essential introductions.
“The Basics of Poisonous Alchemy: Toxin Separation” was written in two languages.
The trivial content was in the common tongue—the language spoken and written daily.
But whenever the alchemical content demanded absolute precision, it switched to the alchemical language, a complex system composed of formulas, tenses, procedures, measures, and codes.
Xia Zuo had spent over half a month in the detection station’s library, forcefully memorizing “Alchemical Linguistics.” Without the help of his special talent, he wouldn’t have fared much better than others.
Alchemy involved seventeen routine operations, each represented by unfilled geometric symbols in the alchemical language.
For example, a circle stood for mixing, a triangle for heating, and a square for resting.
Alchemical formulas resembled the chemical equations he had learned in a past life. Raw materials appeared on the left, products on the right. Above the equal sign or arrow were the operations; below were the duration or frequency.
Raw materials were named with codes—not simple numbers like “123,” but uppercase characters chosen to avoid confusion.
Ordinary products used special character combinations, while intermediate products were represented by filled geometric shapes.
The most challenging part was mastering the tenses.
Take a weak restorative potion: its brewing required a dozen or more steps, some sequential, others simultaneous, as were groups of steps.
Thus, extremely precise tense grammar was essential to instruct the maker exactly when to perform each task.
As Xia Zuo memorized the fifteen tenses, his hair fell in handfuls.
By the time he had memorized the entire book and recorded it into his [Knowledge Reserve], his cheeks had hollowed, revealing his jawbone beneath the skin.
This profound and dizzying “Alchemical Linguistics” granted 30 experience points and 0.5 mental points!
In terms of time, difficulty, and reward, it was worth as much as ten ordinary tomes.
Good luck, Xiao Moben Riley.
Xia Zuo silently wished him well and continued reciting the textbook on poisonous alchemy.
Information stored in [Knowledge Reserve] would never be forgotten and could be accessed at any time.
Still, Xia Zuo often reopened his copy of “Alchemical Linguistics,” feigning a search for key points.
The professors at the academy undoubtedly possessed keen perception; it was necessary to cultivate the habit of disguise.
Until capable of handling their scrutiny, he must avoid revealing anything unusual.
---
After the last carriage joined the convoy, they traveled another half month.
One early morning.
Xia Zuo rose, washed briefly, and settled at the table, eating bread while reading.
Mars and Xiao Moben followed suit, the three taking turns using the washroom with tacit understanding.
Voices of guards came drifting from outside the carriage window.
Xia Zuo did not rise to look but listened attentively.
It seemed the convoy was undergoing inspection at the city gate.
He was accustomed to this and continued to bury his nose in the book.
About twenty minutes later, the clattering sounds of dragging chains echoed outside.
Mars, sensing something, lifted his head and peered out the window, then turned back to call to the studious new student.
“We’re here! Just passed through the academy gates.”
Xia Zuo’s eyes glazed momentarily, still swirling with complex concepts, until Mars pulled him to the window.
The carriage passed through a low-walled gate and onto a square paved with stone bricks. Several altars and stone pavilions rested on lush green lawns.
Xia Zuo leaned on the window frame, gazing ahead at a broad plaza and a towering gray ancient castle.
Over twenty carriages halted in the plaza.
New students followed their leaders off the carriages, climbing twenty steps to enter the castle’s hall lined with stone pillars.
Sunlight streamed through stained glass skylights, casting colorful beams onto the polished marble floor, illuminating the hall brilliantly.
The surrounding new students suddenly grew noisier, pointing toward the light columns, as if drawn to some dazzling spectacle.
Xia Zuo scanned the bustling crowd, casting a divination spell toward the self-moving mops and cloths wiping the floor; all returned as unknown entities.
The new students gathered in the center of the hall.
A tall, bearded man stood before them. He appeared about thirty years old, dressed in a black robe.
With calm eyes, he surveyed each team leader; every senior student he regarded nodded respectfully in return.
(End of Chapter)