Deep in the Forbidden Forest.
Luster lounged on a bed of auspicious clouds, with another cloud holding up a small golden gourd in front of him.
Suddenly, Lucien's figure emerged from the gourd's mouth.
In his hands, he cradled a transparent box. Floating in the center was a gray-brown solid that looked, at first glance, like dried dirt.
"Whew, finally finished brewing the Delayed Truth. Good thing nothing went wrong."
He used magic to secure it in the middle of the container, not touching any walls, to avoid accidental bumps setting it off and causing a boom.
Time to test the effects.
Lucien waved his wand, breaking off a tiny fragment the size of his pinky nail from the gray-brown lump.
"According to the book, this amount should explode with a radius of..."
He calculated the distance and flicked the fragment about twenty meters away.
It landed lightly on the ground, unchanged—like any old clump of mud.
The gray-brown bit bounced once, then fell again.
In an instant, the fragment swelled up, ballooning into a two-meter-wide sphere.
Boom—
The deafening roar echoed through the forest, startling birds and beasts into a frenzy of calls.
Once everything quieted down, Lucien and Luster approached.
There, in the dirt, was a crater five or six meters across.
Not bad at all.
Lucien noticed some weird gray-brown liquid clinging to the crater's edges, steadily eating away at the soil.
Must be from the properties of the Poisonhorn Beast's explosive fluid—this kind of blast was more like dissolution.
Not just shattering things apart, but melting them down too.
For thick defenses, it'd probably break through even faster.
"Luster, keep an eye out for me."
After telling the little qilin to stand guard, Lucien dove back into the golden gourd—this one was his dedicated alchemy setup.
He didn't keep the little guy waiting long this time.
The main parts were already done; Lucien just needed to load the Delayed Truth into special casings.
The tricky bit was preventing misfires and how to trigger it on impact, but he'd brainstormed the design ages ago.
Magic made it a breeze to whip up exactly what he needed.
When he popped back out, Lucien had a box of grayish-yellow bullets in hand.
His other hand pulled out the transfiguring pocket watch.
As magic surged, the hands stopped on a revolver icon.
In a flash, the watch turned into a brass-colored revolver.
He loaded a bullet experimentally and aimed at a distant tree.
Bang—
The instant the shot rang out, a bulge swelled on the trunk.
Then, part of the trunk just... vanished.
Pretty solid.
As the tree crashed down, Lucien eyed the bullets.
"Yeah, let's call these Truth Bullets."
He stowed the ammo and the reverted watch, then patted Luster's neck.
"Come on, let's head out—one more stop, that Mooncalf den from last time."
"Okay, master. Oh, I have something to tell you!"
"Oh? What's up?"
Luster suddenly got all shy.
"Um, I think I'm about to shed my scales!"
Lucien turned to the little qilin, looking puzzled.
"You said... shed your scales?"
At the same time, he mentally pinged the system.
"System, do qilins shed scales too?"
[Yep, especially during growth phases—they do it more often, about once a month.]
[Each shed marks your body's progress.]
With the system's explanation, Lucien relaxed.
So, just a normal growing thing.
Wonder what the shed scales look like...
Hey, qilin scales—magical creature tissue.
Something clicked for Lucien. He pulled a thinner book from his pocket, embossed with a gold "P."
Flipping to the right page from memory.
There it was: using magical creature body parts as the base to amplify and harness their traits.
It was an alchemy technique from the Potter family grimoire.
Hmm, could he use the little qilin's shed scales to craft some special alchemical gear?
Waste not, want not—they were coming off anyway.
Plus, qilin scales had some magic resistance.
Turn 'em into protective stuff? Super practical.
Or maybe try fusing them into the transfiguring watch for new effects?
Lucien was lost in thought when Luster's voice chimed in his mind again.
"Oh yeah, master—I think I'm gonna shed a horn too!"
Shed a horn?
"System, qilins shedding horns..."
But before Lucien could finish asking.
Plop—
A forked little antler hit the ground.
Lucien instinctively looked at it—smooth as jade, rounded at the tip.
Then back at Luster: only a single stub left on its forehead.
"Master, my head feels itchy!"
Whoa, just like a deer?
Lucien remembered seeing deer in their shedding phase before.
Some rocked a lopsided single antler; others got off-balance from the weight.
Good thing the little qilin's weren't huge—aside from looking kinda goofy.
Ah, the awkward phase.
"Luster, you dropped one of your horns."
"Oh, uh."
Lucien shook his head with a helpless smile and waved his wand to summon the horn to his hand.
A flick—but the qilin horn stayed put, dead silent.
"Hm?"
Spell glitch?
Nah, magic felt fine.
Like the scales, did the horn have magic resistance too?
He tried again. Still nothing.
"Interesting."
Lucien bent down and picked up the jade-like horn. Even detached, it felt warmly alive.
He set it on a nearby boulder.
With another wand wave, spells flew: winds howled, fires swirled, lightning cracked.
When the dust settled...
The boulder was reduced to a base, but the qilin horn in the middle? Pristine.
Not a single mark on its white-jade surface.
"Feels like its magic resistance is even stronger than the scales."
At least spells left some impact on qilin scales.
An idea sparked for Lucien.
He cast a Protego around himself.
A shimmering shield enveloped him—a standard protection charm.
It could deflect objects or spells, even dissipate them, safeguarding the caster and a bit around.
With the shield up, Lucien reached out to touch the horn.
Crack—
As the caster, he felt an invisible shattering.