Kemo Sturil walked into the alchemy workshop.
"Master Mentor," the apprentices bowed in unison upon seeing Kaimo.
He waved his hand, "You go on." The apprentices squatted down again, busy with their work.
The outermost section of the workshop is the washing and sorting area, where materials from across Graycastle are cleaned, sorted, screened, and ground. The design of this space is ingeniously crafted: stone slabs are laid over a small stream, with a central passage flanked by babbling water that flows parallel to the stone path. After crossing a narrow stream, the outermost zone becomes the washing area.
At first glance, the narrow sorting room appears as if divided into three sections vertically by two streams. Light streams through the window openings on both walls, casting shadows onto the stone floor and the water, forming elongated streaks that span the room. The interplay of light and shadow resembles the patterns of a snake.
Nearly a hundred apprentices leaned against the wall, processing the assigned materials. Discarded debris lighter than water could be directly thrown into the stream, while heavier items had to be collected in baskets and removed from the washing area for disposal. Using running water for cleaning proved significantly more effective than stagnant water in wooden buckets.
They will study here for three to five years until they master sorting and cleaning all kinds of materials, then they may be selected by their mentor as disciples and move to the next room.
Guided by the interplay of light and shadow, Kaimo entered the core of the alchemy workshop—the refining chamber.
Pushing open the door, the view suddenly opened up. Twelve massive logs from the Forest of Concealment formed the pillars supporting this exceptionally spacious chamber. Stone walls on all sides were fitted with windows, and even the roof featured skylights and shading, ensuring abundant natural light. At the center of the refining room stood six wide wooden tables, piled high with alchemical apparatus: round-bottomed flasks, glassware, balances, grinding mortars, furnaces, crucibles... Each mentor managed and used one table, while the Chief Alchemist of Redwater City naturally occupied the longest table, which also held the most equipment.
This place is perpetually imbued with chaos and disorder, akin to alchemy—a process where raw materials are blended, heated, carbonized, watered, and ultimately incinerated. The outcomes are invariably ever-changing, captivating in their diversity.
To discern a clear direction from these chaotic transformations and articulate it in writing constitutes an exceptionally rare alchemical formula. Those who can devise such formulas alone are revered as alchemists. To date, he has compiled over a dozen alchemical formulas, each whispering with divine clarity—Kaimo believes that when alchemy reaches a certain level, it can not only separate the origin but also synthesize all things.
"Chamis, how is your snow powder imitation?" he asked.
A young man in his twenties strode over and shook his head. "These damn royal alchemists must have mixed in other ingredients. The powder is ground to such a fine powder that there's hardly any useful substance left to separate." He was the youngest alchemist in the workshop. Crafting an alchemical formula usually requires years of trial and error, sometimes even a touch of luck. Many in the workshop spent their entire lives as apprentices, yet never achieved mastery. However, Chamis possessed extraordinary talent for alchemy. Two years ago, he developed a method to extract acid from pyrolyzing green vitriol, which earned unanimous approval from the five alchemists. Since then, a long table has been added to the refining room.
"Take your time," he said with a smile, patting the man on the shoulder to reassure him. Having served as chief for eight years, Kaimo knew all too well the challenges of uncovering truth in chaos. "But last night I did create something remarkable—something to show those arrogant fellows what they can do. Come with me." He moved to his desk and had two disciples bring in a storage box—about half a man's height, forged from tempered iron, designed to be both unbreakable and theft-resistant. He took out the key and opened the first compartment, where a small transparent crystal lay in the center.
"Cut crystal?" Chamis stood nearby, carefully cradling it in his hand as he gazed at the sunlight streaming through the window. "No, this is... crystal glass! Good heavens! You've done it!" "Exactly," Kaimo chuckled triumphantly. "I can't wait to see how those bastards will react when they discover their most prized alchemical creation has been successfully replicated by me." Chamis's unbridled admiration startled the other alchemists, who immediately stopped their work and gathered around.
"What's the result of your late-night work last night? Absolutely brilliant." "It's breathtakingly beautiful, like crystal itself." "Congratulations! This will elevate our Alchemy Workshop's standing in the Duke's eyes even further." "How did you achieve this? Could you explain?" Kaimo nodded. "We all know glass and river sand share similar compositions. The varying colors of glass produced from different sands come from impurities. We're either removing these impurities or sourcing purer sand. Everyone's exploring this path, and I'm no exception. This alchemical success was largely due to serendipity. I selected fine white sand from Willow Leaf Town and sandstone from Dragon Falls..." The crowd gathered around him, listening intently until he finished. The alchemists let out a collective sigh. "So that's how it works. You've thought through everything." Crystal is a rare and precious gemstone, and colorless transparent crystal is even rarer. Only the purest, clearest glass can be called crystal glass. The Capital Alchemy Association dominates the Crimson Water City Alchemy Workshop with this product, earning annual Golden Dragons that make the Duke of Crimson Water City envious.
This situation is about to change soon. If Chamis can determine the composition of the snow powder and master the dual-stone acid-making technique, they will completely surpass the Royal Alchemy Association. By then, those who only know how to judge people by their looks might have to bow their heads like roosters. At this thought, Kaimos Thiel felt even more elated.
As he was about to select the second batch of crystal glass raw materials, a disciple hurried to his side. "Chief Mentor, an envoy from Border Town in the Western Frontier wishes to see you. He brought a letter from the Fourth Prince, Roland Wimbledon." "The Fourth Prince?" Kaimo frowned, pondering whether such a figure truly existed in the Graycastle royal family. He knew little of noble affairs, remembering these people as ignorant and bloodthirsty in their power struggles. "What brings him to me?" "I don't know. The envoy said Your Highness would understand once he reads the letter." "..." The Chief Alchemist's face turned as impatient as God, realizing the letter likely offered a lucrative position or denounced alchemy as demonic trickery. Yet since it was a prince, basic etiquette demanded respect. "Take me to him. Let him go once I've read the letter!" "Yes, Chief Mentor."