Chapter 62: The Alchemical Trial

“Lord Mishus, may I ask if the Thomas you mentioned is from Porter Academy?” Rollin wanted to confirm, so he asked.

“Oh, that little Thomas is not only from Porter Academy, but he’s also a necromancer,” Mishus replied carelessly.

Rollin was now certain—it was indeed the same Thomas, one of the two great prodigies from Porter Academy in a millennium. Three hundred years ago, he too had entered this place, just as Rollin was doing now, and had undergone the three trials. It seemed that his own life trajectory bore quite a resemblance to that of Thomas.

The two walked and conversed as they made their way along the corridor to a towering structure. Mishus stopped, saying, “Rollin, I believe you’ve asked most of your questions by now. It’s time for you to prepare for the first trial. However, before you begin, you must sign a contract promising not to reveal anything you see or hear during the trial to outsiders!”

With that, Mishus produced a magical scroll from within his robes and handed it to Rollin.

Rollin immediately understood; no wonder that in ten thousand years, more than a hundred people had entered the Mishus Sanctuary to attempt the trial, yet no word of it ever reached the outside world. They had all signed a secrecy contract.

He recognized it as a soul contract, something all students learned in their first year at Porter Academy. Rollin examined the contract’s contents, which matched exactly what Mishus had just said. Finding nothing amiss, he released his spiritual power and signed his name on the contract.

Spiritual power, generated from the soul in the dantian, was often called soul-force. Using this force, Rollin inscribed his name, thus completing the soul contract.

As the final stroke was finished, the contract suddenly ignited with a soft pop, burning away in an instant until not a trace remained. This signified that the soul contract had taken effect. Should Rollin ever violate its terms, he would suffer punishment by the very laws of the realm.

Seeing Rollin finally complete this rather tedious contract, Mishus sighed helplessly. “I truly don’t know what Mishus himself was thinking back then, making it all so complicated. If you ask me, he’d have been better off letting word spread and inviting the whole continent—maybe then someone would actually pass the trials, and I wouldn’t have had to spend ten thousand years guarding this place all alone. Well, enough of this nonsense. Let’s get on with the first trial!”

Rollin followed the grumbling Mishus into a grand hall. He dared not interrupt, fearing any slip of the tongue might offend this character and make him a target for petty revenge during the trial, leaving him with no recourse.

The hall was spacious, floored with white stone slabs and otherwise empty, save for a single stone platform in the center, rising to about chest height.

Mishus led Rollin to the platform and explained, “This is where your first trial will take place. You must successfully concoct a three-star basic alchemical potion within one day. The materials are limited—you have only five attempts. If you use up all five sets of ingredients without success, you will have failed the trial!”

“Lord Mishus, but I…” Rollin began, but Mishus waved him off.

“I know, you’re going to say you don’t know alchemical potion-making, right? Here, I have a few three-star basic potion recipes and their preparation methods for you to study. I’ll also give you the materials.” With a wave of his large hand, a thin booklet, five grade-three magic cores, and a small pile of herbs appeared on the stone platform.

“A spatial ring!” Rollin noted inwardly, glancing at the ancient black ring on Mishus’s hand.

“Oh, that’s right. Rollin, let me tell you about the reward for passing this first trial!” Just as Rollin was about to examine the booklet, Mishus spoke up again.

At this, Rollin perked up. He had vaguely heard Mishus mention that the rewards for each of the three trials were exceedingly generous, so he listened intently.

Seeing Rollin’s eager demeanor, Mishus slowed his speech for effect. “If you manage to pass this first trial, you will receive—” He deliberately drew out his words, making Rollin crane his neck and strain his ears, afraid to miss a single syllable.

Mishus continued, “Passing the first trial will earn you: a book on potion alchemy, potion recipes from three to six stars, and a spatial ring with a capacity of ten cubic meters!”

Rollin could not help but gasp. Such an abundance of rewards for merely passing the first trial! Even without the alchemy book and recipes, that spatial ring alone was worth a fortune. Old Mal’s two or three-cubic-meter ring had cost tens of thousands of gold coins and required considerable connections to acquire. A ten-cubic-meter ring, nearly the size of his necromancer's space, was beyond price!

Mishus was clearly pleased with Rollin’s astonished expression. After spending thousands of years alone in this sanctuary, perhaps the only joy he had was watching the reactions of those who came to undertake the trials.

Next, Rollin gently picked up the thin booklet from the platform and leafed through it. When he read the first step of potion-making, a faintly strange look appeared in his eyes.

The first step was to draw an alchemical array, and the array required for a three-star basic potion was a pentagram of 256 strokes. Rollin clearly remembered that when he had shaped his necromancer’s space, the magical array had required weaving a hexagram with 1,024 threads of magic—a task far more complex than these alchemical arrays.

Half an hour later, Rollin set down the booklet. He closed his eyes and recalled the method in detail, ensuring he had memorized it thoroughly. Satisfied, he took a deep breath, extended his right index finger, and gathered fire-elemental magic at its tip. He was ready to begin the first step—drawing the alchemical array.

Mishus narrowed his eyes with an air of calm amusement. He knew that drawing the array was no simple matter; over the millennia, many had stumbled at this very step, providing him with no end of entertainment. Folding his arms, he watched Rollin, already anticipating the youth's impending embarrassment, a smile curling on his lips.

Yet, the very next moment, Mishus’s smile froze, for to his astonishment, Rollin’s finger began to glide swiftly and smoothly across the stone platform, the movement as fluid as flowing water!