Chapter 25: Arrival at the Academy
The carriages carrying newcomers to the city of Rosac reached the meeting point just beyond the border of two provinces.
Six laden black carriages formed a rushing serpent, snaking its way northward along the roads amidst the mountains.
Xia Zuo was quietly memorizing the basics of toxic alchemy.
A muffled sigh echoed from across the table.
"Mars, Senior."
Xia Zuo was still getting used to the titles within the academy.
It took him two days after boarding to adjust to his new status, shifting his address for Mars from "Sir," "Your Excellency," or "Mister" to the current "Senior."
Moben slouched over the table, facing a hefty tome, its pages darkened by the fireplace, his square face showing signs of discouragement:
"I'm not cut out for this reading business; I can't remember a word from these pages."
Moben had broad shoulders and a sturdy back, muscles accrued over years of assisting his father with bellows. Unfortunately, a bulked-up brain wasn't as helpful as those muscles. He'd rather spend a day by the furnace than sit still reading at a desk.
Those words, trailing like shooting stars, forming a connected loop, were as sleep-inducing as hypnotic notes.
Since boarding, he hadn't finished a single book, let alone memorized the convoluted knowledge within.
"Moben, don't lose heart."
Mars sat beside him, saying, "You'll be in the Department of Esoteric Alchemy; there's little theoretical learning, mostly practical."
"But can I... excel in the practical courses?"
Moben looked at his rough, swollen fingers, growing more disheartened.
"Moben!"
Mars attempted to grasp Moben's shoulder but found himself just slightly out of reach. He settled for a gentle pat on the back.
"Stop looking so glum. From what I gather, you'll be studying Gigantology in the Esoteric Alchemy Department. Your mentor is Bolton, like you, not keen on reading but adept at furnace temperature control."
Moben straightened up, fists clenched on the table.
He seemed particularly sensitive to the words 'furnace temperature,' as if they held some sort of conviction, his expression gradually turning confident.
Mars gave him a firmer pat on the back. "Trust me, the professors' discernment isn't amiss. Once you finish this book, the rest of the courses will be a breeze."
Moben nodded in response, lips sealed tight, turning back into a silent, focused machine, reopening the book.
Xia Zuo glanced at his progress: only on page 13...
For a book exceeding 2000 pages in "Alchemy Linguistics," page 35 marked the beginning of the actual content; the prior pages were just indices and essential readings.
"The Basics of Toxic Alchemy: Isolation of Toxins" was written in two languages.
Irrelevant content was in the common language, the one used in everyday speech and writing.
When it delved into crucial alchemical information, it switched to an alchemical language composed of formulas, tenses, operations, quantifiers, and codes.
Xia Zuo had spent almost half a month forcefully memorizing "Alchemy Linguistics" at the checkpoint's library. Without the help of a cheat sheet, he wouldn't fare much better than others.
There were 17 conventional alchemical operations represented in the alchemical language by unfilled geometric shapes serving as symbols.
For instance, circles symbolized blending, triangles denoted heating, squares indicated resting...
Alchemy formulas resembled those from his past life's chemistry studies, with raw materials on the left, products on the right, and symbols like "=" or "→" above denoting operations and below indicating duration or quantity.
Raw materials were named using symbols, not numerical digits like "123," but less interchangeable uppercase characters.
Ordinary products were represented by a combination of special characters, similar to raw materials. Intermediate products, however, were designated by filled geometric shapes.
The most challenging aspect was tense.
For instance, a mild healing potion involved over a dozen processes.
Some processes followed a sequence, while others occurred simultaneously, and the same applied between process groups, demanding precise tense grammar to instruct when to do what.
While cramming 15 tense grammatical structures, Xia Zuo lost clumps of hair...
By the time he finished memorizing the entire book, entering it into his "Knowledge Reserve," his cheeks had hollowed, revealing his cheekbones.
This profoundly dizzying "Alchemy Linguistics" provided 30 points of experience and 0.5 points of mental strength! In terms of time, difficulty, and rewards, it was equivalent to ten ordinary texts.
Best wishes to Moben Liley.
Xia Zuo silently wished Moben luck and continued memorizing the textbook on toxic alchemy.
The information entered into the "Knowledge Reserve" wouldn't fade and could be accessed anytime.
Nevertheless, Xia Zuo still frequently opened his "Alchemy Linguistics," pretending to search for key points.
The faculty surely possessed keen perception; it was crucial to cultivate a habit of disguise before being questioned. Before being able to handle their inquiries, it was imperative not to reveal any anomalies.
...
After the convoy linked up with the final carriage, they continued their journey for another half month.
One morning.
After a simple wash-up, Xia Zuo sat at the table, nibbling on bread and reading.
Mars and Moben did the same, their synchrony evident as they alternated using the washroom.
Outside the carriage window came the sounds of guards.
Xia Zuo didn't rise to peer out; instead, he listened for a while.
It seemed the carriages were undergoing inspection at the city gates.
He was accustomed to this and continued focusing on his book.
Around 20 minutes later, the clinking sound of chains being dragged echoed outside the window.
Mars, sensing something, raised his head, glanced out the window, then turned to the diligently studying newcomer, calling out, "We've arrived! Just entered the gates of the academy."
Xia Zuo looked blankly in that direction, his mind still tangled with perplexing knowledge, only snapping out of it when Mars pulled him towards the window.
The carriage passed through the gate's low walls, onto a square stone ground, with flower beds and stone pavilions scattered amidst the verdant grassland.
Xia Zuo leaned against the window frame, peering forward; a bit further away stood an expansive square and a towering gray castle.
Over twenty carriages stopped at the square.
Newcomers followed their respective guides, disembarking from the carriages, climbing twenty steps, and entering the castle's hall, adorned with pillars.
Sunlight filtered through stained glass skylights, casting colorful beams onto the sleek marble floor, brightening the hall.
The new students became inexplicably excited, pointing toward the beams as if something splendid was drawing them.
Amidst the clamor, Xia Zuo surveyed the surroundings, probing with his Detect Art spells into the mops that moved on their own and the cloths wiping the floor. All responses indicated unknown phenomena.
The crowd of newcomers halted in the center of the hall.
A tall, bearded man stood before them, appearing around 30, clad in a black robe.
With a composed gaze, he scanned each team's guide, and each high-ranking student he locked eyes with offered a nod of greeting.
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