When Saine returned to Mentor Mosido's laboratory, the latter's pale yellow eyes studied him with keen interest.
"Hehehe, you little troublemaker, always stirring up something," Mentor Mosido remarked with a chuckle. "A simple mandatory academy task, and yet you come back covered in injuries."
Faced with his mentor's teasing, Saine lowered his head in embarrassment.
Before coming here, he had already endured a scolding from Lina. Fortunately, the situation had turned out to be more alarming than dangerous. After a thorough examination, it was confirmed that there were no lasting aftereffects—just superficial wounds that needed time to heal. The cut on his neck, though gruesome-looking, was nothing serious aside from the troublesome paralyzing toxin left by the blue moss.
Mosido said nothing more in response to Saine's silence. However, just before entering the laboratory, he added coldly, "Hmph, this time I won't be casting any regenerative healing spells on you. Let these wounds serve as a lesson—maybe then you'll think twice before acting so recklessly."
With that, Mosido strode into the lab, leaving Saine behind. However, his senior siblings, Zorro and Feier, approached to check on him.
Seizing the opportunity, Saine asked Feier if she could teach him her method for brewing nutrient potions. At the same time, he requested Zorro to spare some time to guide him in alchemy.
Of course, seeking help from his seniors came at a cost. Magicians strictly adhered to the principle of equivalent exchange. If Boss managed to sell their stock of goods, Saine would have the funds to compensate them. Alternatively, he still had a few valuable items of his own—whether it was the magic core of the Saltwater Crocodile or the low-tier core of the Azure-Beak Raptor King, he could offer them as payment.
Saine had long realized one thing: wealth was ultimately transient, but true power was something that belonged entirely to oneself. And for magicians, knowledge was power.
Feier readily agreed to his request. The process of making nutrient potions wasn't particularly complicated, and the fact that Saine wanted to learn from her gave her a peculiar sense of excitement and satisfaction—especially since she wasn't exactly skilled in cooking.
Zorro, however, was less straightforward in his response. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "I'm currently assisting the mentor with an important alchemy experiment. I won't have time during the day—only at night."
The underground world had no concept of day or night, but the general perception of time still followed the surface world's rhythm. The Black Magic Academy marked each period with corresponding chimes, and even the apprentices' schedules adhered to this system.
Both seniors had agreed to his requests without specifying any immediate compensation, which touched Saine deeply. In truth, Mosido had already instructed them to guide Saine more closely. With the mentor too busy to teach him personally, it fell upon these two senior disciples to share the responsibility.
In high spirits despite his injuries, Saine returned to his private side chamber. For now, his focus would be on meditating to restore his mental energy—until he fully recovered, he wouldn't be able to assist in any experimental research.
Feier soon left as well, but Zorro lingered for a moment, watching Saine enter his room before quietly departing with a thoughtful expression.
"Just as I suspected… The mentor took Saine in because he sees traces of Second Junior Brother in him."
"Beyond the golden hair, it's more about their temperament and way of doing things…"
Recalling the junior brother who had tragically perished thirty years ago, Zorro sighed softly. Among Mosido's disciples, the one with the greatest potential should have been Second Junior Brother. Like Zorro himself, Second Junior Brother had followed Mosido all the way from the Western Isles to the Dark Territory.
In contrast, the later disciples—Third Junior Sister Feier, Fourth Junior Brother, and Fifth Junior Brother Saine—were all taken in after their arrival in the Dark Territory. In terms of the effort and emotional investment Mosido had poured into him, the deceased Second Junior Brother had truly been the mentor's chosen successor.
With another sigh, Zorro turned and entered the laboratory. Recently, the alchemy tasks assigned by the mentor had grown more demanding—especially since the two deputy deans of Shadowvale had begun pressing for results.
Before a small experimental table, Saine stared intently at a fixed segment of an Azure-Beak Raptor's claw. In his hand was a triangular magic awl—a gift from Senior Brother Zorro a few days prior.
As Saine carefully traced the awl across the claw's surface, intricate patterns gradually emerged. By the time the engravings covered two-thirds of the claw, a momentary lapse in concentration caused an elemental disturbance.
The previously unremarkable claw suddenly emitted intense heat, melting part of the steel frame on the table and completely erasing the painstakingly carved patterns Saine had spent hours creating.
Realizing that the faint elemental energy within the claw had also been completely depleted, Saine slammed it onto the table in frustration. "Another failure!"
This was the third Azure-Beak claw he had ruined. Considering that each claw could withstand three or four attempts at engraving magic arrays, this meant Saine had already failed over a dozen times.
Indeed, there were no natural-born geniuses in this world. Even though both his mentor and senior brother had praised his talent in alchemy, Saine was far from being able to craft proper magical artifacts—not even something as simple as attaching a Sharpness spell to a raptor's claw.
And this was with the Azure-Beak claw already being a magical material with inherent elemental properties. If he were working with enchanted steel or ordinary metal—materials lacking innate elemental energy—the process would require manually infusing them with magic, increasing both the risks and the failure rate.
How many failures must a proper alchemist endure before they truly master their craft?
No wonder someone as free-spirited as Feier had no interest in alchemy. Repeated setbacks could easily crush one's confidence.
Shaking off his discouragement, Saine began analyzing his mistakes and possible improvements—not just in his technique, but also the limitations of the experimental table and the two previously failed claws.
After a long silence, instead of immediately starting anew, Saine turned to Lina, who had been quietly reading a magic tome beside him.
"This table really is too small," he said. "We should revisit our plans to move."