Sophia Lexington’s gaze swept over the class, her gentle voice silencing even the most talkative students. “Today, I’ll demonstrate the basics of alchemy,” she said, her tone calm yet authoritative. With a flick of her wrist, an alchemy furnace appeared on the podium, along with neatly arranged bundles of herbs.
“To create a successful pill, you must control the furnace’s temperature evenly,” she began, gesturing gracefully as she spoke. “Each ingredient must be added in sequence, allowing the properties to merge without conflict.”
Asmon leaned back in his seat, watching intently. 'Alchemy, huh? This might actually be interesting.'
Sophia Lexington’s movements were poetry in motion, her hands gliding effortlessly as she worked. Her fingers traced patterns across the array of controls surrounding the alchemy furnace. With precision, she adjusted the flame intensity, nudging the mixture toward the perfect temperature—a precise 375 degrees, where the volatile components would harmonize instead of combust.
The furnace before her hummed softly, a low, rhythmic vibration like the purr of a contented cat. Inside, the mixture of powdered moonflower petals, crushed star quartz, and a delicate drizzle of silver dew began to shimmer. Each ingredient had been carefully measured, its mass calculated down to the last grain. The star quartz, an unusually reactive mineral, was the heart of the concoction, its crystalline structure catalyzing the transformation.
Sophia’s eyes narrowed as she observed the mixture through the furnace’s observation panel. A thin mist of vapor began to swirl within, a sign that the volatile compounds were releasing their essence. She introduced a final ingredient—a drop of liquid emberthorn extract. The extract fizzled upon contact, sending radiant threads of gold coursing through the mixture like veins of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
The furnace’s hum changed pitch slightly, an almost imperceptible shift that Sophia caught instantly. "Steady," she murmured, her voice calm but commanding. She adjusted the furnace’s airflow with a twist of her wrist, balancing the oxygen levels to sustain the reaction without overwhelming it.
Minutes ticked by as Sophia worked. The concoction within the furnace glowed faintly, its color transitioning from pale lavender to a luminous emerald—the final stage. She tapped a small rune etched onto the furnace’s control panel, triggering the cooling phase. The emerald glow dimmed as the mixture solidified, compressing into a perfect sphere.
A fragrant cloud of success wafted through the air, tinged with notes of citrus and earth. Sophia lifted the furnace’s lid with a soft click and carefully retrieved the finished pill. She held it up to the light, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “Perfect,” she whispered, the word resonating like a quiet victory.
Asmon leaned back in his seat, watching the scene with casual interest until a familiar ding resonated in his mind.
[You observed a third-rank alchemist refine a powerful pill. Insight gained, understanding deepened, experience amplified. You have advanced to First-Rank Alchemist!]
A rush of knowledge flooded Asmon’s brain, almost as if someone had downloaded centuries of alchemical expertise directly into his memory. He smirked. 'This MAGA system is like playing life on cheat mode.'
Sophia turned to her students, her voice lively and encouraging. “Now that I’ve demonstrated the process, who’s feeling bold enough to give it a shot? Successfully refine a powerful pill, and I’ll personally recommend you for a promotion to B-Class.”
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Pandemonium erupted.
“Yes! This is it! My time to shine!”
“Finally, a chance to hit B-Class without begging for resources!”
Some students practically vibrated with excitement, while others looked like they’d seen the end credits of their alchemical careers. At Silvercrest Martial Institute, ranking wasn’t just a title—it was the golden key to better resources, prestige, and bragging rights. The B-Class was a game-changer.
“I’ll try!” a confident student declared, practically vaulting to the podium.
He didn’t last long. A minor miscalculation here, an overheating furnace there, and soon the class was treated to the smell of charred failure.
One by one, students attempted the refinement process, only to meet with varying levels of disappointment. Even Lucas , a self-proclaimed alchemical prodigy, stepped up and managed to blow up the furnace in spectacular fashion.
Sophia, ever patient, suppressed a sigh and addressed the room. “Is there anyone else who’d like to try?” Her tone was polite, but the subtle disappointment wasn’t lost on anyone.
Asmon stretched lazily in his chair before standing up. “Really?” Lucas barked, still wiping soot off his face. “You? You’ve been here for what—five minutes? Do you even know which end of the furnace is up?”
Asmon’s expression didn’t waver. “And who says a beginner can’t try alchemy?”
Lucas let out a derisive laugh. “Alchemy isn’t child’s play. I’ve been practicing for months, and I still struggle. Don’t set yourself up for public humiliation.”
“Months?” Asmon tilted his head mockingly. “And yet you still can’t manage even a basic-grade pill? Sounds like a 'you' problem.”
Lucas Yates turned redder than the furnace flames. “Fine! If you can make a powerful pill, I’ll bow to you, serve you tea, and call you ‘teacher.’ How’s that?”
Asmon smirked. “Serve me tea? I wouldn’t accept a useless disciple like you even if you begged for it.”
“You—!” Lucas sputtered, searching for words. Giving up, he whirled to face Sophia . “Teacher Sophia, you can’t seriously let this—this 'novice'—waste everyone’s time!”
Asmon, unfazed, strolled to the podium. “Don’t be so quick to write me off. If I succeed, you can pack up your ego and leave the classroom instead.”
Lucas sneered. “You’re bluffing.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Asmon shot back with a grin.
[You are preparing to refine a Low Qi Essence Pill. Success rate enhanced, precision optimized, outcome maximized.]
Asmon nearly laughed aloud. Enhanced success rate? Talk about overkill. He didn’t need luck—he had a system that practically whispered, '“You’ve already won.”'
With deliberate precision, Asmon began placing the ingredients into the furnace. Every motion was smooth and confident, as if he’d been doing this for years. From controlling the temperature to balancing the ingredients, it all came together like a perfectly choreographed move. Even Sophia raised an eyebrow, her professional curiosity piqued.
Minutes later, an enticing aroma filled the room. The kind that made students lean forward, sniffing the air like starving wolves.
[You’ve successfully refined a Low Qi Essence Pill. Experience surged, mastery deepened, rank elevated. You have advanced to Second-Rank Alchemist!]
The class exploded into whispers.
“Did he…actually succeed?”
“No way. That’s impossible!”
“His technique is as smooth as Teacher Sophia!”
Lucas looked like someone had just told him his life was a lie. He gawked at the pill in Asmon’s hand, disbelief etched across his face.
Sophia broke the stunned silence. “Student Asmon.” Her tone was measured, but her eyes gleamed with something close to admiration. “Your skills are remarkable. Would you like to attempt refining a Body Tempering Pill? If you succeed, I’ll recommend you for A-class student status immediately.”
Asmon blinked. A Body Tempering Pill? On his first day? Either she was testing him or seriously thought he had potential. Not that it mattered—if she was providing the ingredients, he’d take the challenge.
He smiled casually. “If Teacher Sophia insists, I’m happy to oblige.”
"Is he for real? Does he actually think he can refine a Body Tempering Pill?" one student whispered, his voice filled with disbelief.
From the sidelines, Lucas snorted, his laugh loud enough to turn heads. "This guy gets a few wins and suddenly thinks he’s a master alchemist? A Body Tempering Pill isn’t child’s play. Even first-rank alchemists break a sweat over it! What’s he so confident about? His overinflated ego?"