Grantham had logged out of the game earlier, removed his VR headset, eaten, rested, and posted on the forum. After an hour of heated discussion, he logged back in.
"I've already told them," he muttered, "that every hour—which equals four years in the game—I'll log out for one minute. During that time, the medical researchers will report their progress in this thread and let me know what I need to do in the other world... what plants to study, what subjects to investigate."
"We'll communicate every four years... I really hope that mobilizing the entire internet can help me find a way."
With that, he stopped thinking and quietly put his VR glasses back on.
When he next opened his eyes, he found himself in a majestic chamber within the royal palace.
To Grantham, his forty-some years on Earth felt insignificant. It was this world—this wondrous realm of magic—where he truly belonged. As the illustrious Emperor of Alchemy, he felt more alive than ever.
"Now that I rule this world unchallenged," he said to himself, "I should boldly pursue the things I love."
And what did he love?
Building.
The Kingdom of Babylon, Year 415
Grantham, Emperor of Alchemy, devoted himself fully to advancing alchemical technology. His rule was wise and benevolent, earning him the title of the most inspiring emperor in human history.
He was a flawless monarch—heroic, charismatic, and visionary.
He pioneered alchemical machinery, championed pharmacological research, and founded three great institutions: the Babylonian Magic Academy, the Beastmen Magic Academy, and the Royal Rose Academy.
Within these, he established departments of Alchemy, Pharmacology, and Magic—the Three Fundamental Magic Disciplines.
Every three years, the academies held grand exchanges with neighboring kingdoms to share knowledge and compete for academic prestige. Almost every graduating class produced a genius witch, who would be summoned to the palace to become a minister and receive personal instruction from the Emperor himself.
Grantham abolished slavery and promoted the equality of all sentient beings. He enacted laws to protect the giant beasts, warning witches against excessive hunting to preserve the ecosystem and prevent extinction.
He was the invincible Emperor of the Era.
Women across the land dreamed of him. Countless brilliant witches longed for his affection. But Grantham remained faithful—he was a devoted husband who tirelessly worked on an alchemical potion to extend the lives of the Seven Little Witches.
Glorious, heroic, enigmatic, invincible, and devoted—
The Emperor of Alchemy's achievements were too many to count. His name would be immortalized in history, his deeds sung by bards for centuries to come.
The Kingdom of Babylon, Year 422
The development of alchemical patterns and crest formations reached completion.
The Age of Alchemy had officially begun.
Graduates from the academies dazzled the world with brilliance, like stars scattered across the night sky.
That same year, a monumental magical text was published:
The Gates of Truth.
"The great Creator once said that mankind is an intelligent species because we can use tools. Mages are scholars and seekers of Truth. With enough knowledge, we can move the entire world!"
These words, penned by Emperor Grantham himself, became the foundation of the Magic World's evolving civilization.
The Kingdom of Babylon, Year 423
With the help of genius alchemists, Grantham completed the miraculous construct known as Adolphus—a towering alchemical giant powered by thirty thousand slimes.
Adolphus wielded a colossal shovel and tirelessly dug into the earth's depths, seeking the planet's lower limits. With its lifelike design and massive presence, it appeared as though a living mountain strode among men.
Witches regularly delivered cartloads of "meat" to fuel the construct. Without rest or hesitation, it devoured and dug, day and night.
Three years later, a massive chasm over a hundred meters wide appeared in the Charsi Grand Canyon.
Tremors from the bottom could be felt in surrounding towns. Locals called it the Alchemical Pit of Tartarus—a name that symbolized devouring darkness and mankind's fear of the unknown.
"That terrifying giant keeps digging, day and night, making this bottomless pit!"
"The Emperor's skills are godlike... It's like the construct is alive!"
"If witches didn't regularly replace its worn-out parts, we'd think it was a living creature!"
To the people of Babylon, Adolphus was nothing short of a miracle.
When Xu Zhi saw it, he was speechless.
Back in the smaller sandbox, this guy had evolved tentacles and spent all his time digging, claiming he was "mining." Now he was at it again—furiously burrowing into the earth.
"You really can't change human nature."
In the majestic throne room of Babylon, sunlight streamed through a white dome and shimmered upon columns carved with magical crests.
Upon a sculpted throne sat a towering, three-meter-tall man with the physique of a Greek god and eyes filled with solemn wisdom.
Grantham sighed.
"Back then, Gilgamesh mapped the world's borders and declared the earth to be square and the sky a circle. But he only explored the four poles... not the heights above or depths below."
"Today, I—Grantham of Babylon—will complete what he could not. History is a saga of passion and courage. I will become one of the forebears who shaped it."
The witches below him held their breath.
This moment would go down in legend. Their king rivaled Gilgamesh—no, he surpassed him.
Just then, a stunning witch entered the hall and knelt.
"Your Majesty, Emperor of Alchemy! Master of the Magic World! Adolphus has reached the deepest point of the earth you commanded. Thirty thousand meters below... It cannot dig any deeper."
Of course, this was due to Xu Zhi's built-in sandbox limits. No one could dig beyond them.
"Thirty thousand meters..." Grantham whispered. "If the earth has limits... then what of the sky?"
He looked upward, his gaze piercing the palace roof as if he could see the heavens themselves.
"The sky is uncharted territory—the domain of gods! When the Three Witches died, the God of Wisdom, Mercury, sent down three great miracles: the flower monument, the fragrant crimson rain, and the symphony of fate."
"Today, I shall ascend. I will find the legendary land of the gods—Achilles—and offer them our gratitude!"
In Babylonian, "Achilles" meant The Home of the Gods.
"Historian."
"I am here." A witch in crimson stepped forward.
"Record this in The Spear of Witchcraft: The Kingdom of Babylon, Year 428. Emperor Grantham built the Hanging Gardens of Babylon to rise into the Nine Heavens... to meet the gods!"
He raised his staff.
BOOM.
Ripples swept across the floor.
The palace began to shake.
RUMBLE!!
Long ago, the Royal Palace had been remodeled into a flying fortress. Today, it awakened.
This monumental alchemical machine, powered by thirty thousand slimes, rivaled even Adolphus.
Its name was:
The Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
CLACK!!!
Structures filled with lush plants and intricate architecture rose from the palace ground and soared into the sky.
The Gardens resembled a massive fighter jet—streamlined wings, aerodynamic curves, and snow-white beastbone frames. A glorious palace complex adorned its back, with the throne room at its core.
"Oh my god, what is that!?"
"That's the royal palace... It's flying!"
The gigantic construct darkened the skies as citizens poured into the streets, mouths agape.
Inside the cockpit.
Grantham sat regally on his throne, staff in hand, surrounded by his finest ministers—witches in crimson court robes bearing the crest of Babylon. Their shapely forms and graceful composure stood as symbols of the Empire's strength and beauty.
"Let's see what lies above the clouds," Grantham said. "Will the gods recognize my genius? Perhaps I shall ascend the divine throne, light the sacred flame, and become—the God of Alchemy!"
But from outside the game...
Xu Zhi stepped out of his shed with a smirk.
"Grantham, you're too full of yourself," he muttered, holding up a high-powered electric fan. "Just like Akina's Speedster, you still need a good beatdown from society!"