Chapter 12
Early in the morning, Adem went to Professor Margot's experimental lab to inform her of his breakthrough.
As soon as he entered, a familiar voice greeted him.
"It seems you've broken through to a Level 1 Acolyte. Good… good, very good," said Professor Margot, setting down the book she had been reading.
Today, she wasn't wearing her usual white dress and Magus robe. Instead, she wore fitted black pants, a navy-blue shirt that reached up to her neck and covered her arms, and a white lab coat draped over it. Her black leather boots gleamed faintly under the soft morning light. Her blonde hair was tied neatly into a ponytail; her skin was tan and smooth like polished jade, and her lips held the soft red hue of a cherry blossom.
Adem was momentarily flustered—he hadn't seen such modern-looking clothes since arriving in this world.
"Professor, you look beautiful today. What's the occasion?" Adem asked.
"Today? So you're saying I'm ugly the rest of the time?" she replied, feigning offense.
"N-No! That's not what I meant! You're always beautiful—it's just… I've never seen you wear clothes like these before," Adem stammered.
"You haven't even known me for a full month, boy," she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "But thank you for the compliment. As for these clothes, I made them myself—they're far more comfortable."
When she called him "boy," Adem was reminded that he was still only ten years old, with the appearance of a twelve-year-old in this world. The thought left him slightly bitter.
"Get ready, Adem," Professor Margot said, pulling him back from his thoughts. "Your lessons will begin with Herbology. Memorize everything in here."
She handed him a crystal sphere similar to the one he had received upon joining the academy.
It was a Memory Crystal—an artifact capable of transferring knowledge directly into the user's mind.
Adem sat cross-legged on the floor and pressed the crystal against his forehead. At once, a flood of information surged into his mind—names, roots, essences, and diagrams overlapping in bursts of glowing light. The scents of phantom herbs seemed to drift through his consciousness as knowledge carved itself into memory.
A few minutes later, he exhaled slowly and stood. "I think I've memorized them all, Professor," he said, excitement painting his face.
Professor Margot's eyes glimmered with approval. Before Adem could speak further, she began clearing the worktable. Her movements were precise and fluid—each gesture refined by years of habit.
"Now," she said, her tone smooth as tempered glass, "let's put that knowledge to use. Watch closely, Adem. Alchemy is not merely a craft of hands… it's an art of creation."
She placed several sealed jars on the table—each holding peculiar ingredients: a length of dark red root, silver-sheened petals, and a viscous sap that shimmered faintly under the light.
"This," she said, lifting the crimson root, "is Ignis Root. Grown near volcanic ley lines—it carries dormant Fire essence. Mishandle it, and it'll burn through your table before you can blink."
Adem leaned closer as she sliced the root into thin wafers. Tiny sparks leapt from the blade, hissing softly before vanishing.
Margot smiled faintly. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
Next, she uncorked a vial of pale blue liquid. "Aqua Veil Petals, distilled under moonlight. They soothe and temper the Fire."
She poured it into the cauldron. The liquid shimmered, turning a tranquil turquoise. Then, as the heat beneath the cauldron rose, she added a pinch of powdered Ignis Root.
Fsshh!
A pulse of amber fire flared through the mixture before settling into a golden glow. The air filled with the scent of rain striking hot stone.
Margot's eyes reflected the flickering light. "Alchemy is about balance, Adem. Find it—or it'll explode in your face."
She reached for a small phial filled with glowing sap—Lunaris Sap. As each drop fell, silver ripples spread across the potion's surface.
Adem's heart quickened; the sight felt almost alive, as though the potion itself were breathing.
"Now," she whispered, "watch."
For a moment, the entire room fell silent. The cauldron pulsed rhythmically—slow and steady, like a living heart.
Then, she sealed the mixture with a swirl of her finger and a faint incantation. A soft green mist coiled upward before dissipating.
When the potion finally stilled, it glowed like molten glass—golden, threaded with veins of silver and green that shimmered beneath the surface.
"This," Margot said, carefully pouring it into a thin crystal vial, "is the Elixir of Elemental Reclamation. It restores a Magus's magic power."
Adem could only stare, completely entranced. Even the air felt charged—alive.
Professor Margot smiled at his wide-eyed expression. "You'll make your own one day," she said softly. "But remember this—every potion begins with respect. For what you command… and the limits you place on yourself."
Adem stood there long after the cauldron's glow had faded, the faint scent of herbs and ozone still lingering in the air.
Something deep within him stirred—a kind of recognition, as if his very soul had glimpsed a truth it had always known but never understood.
He finally understood why alchemists were called creators—no, drug lords in a sense. They could make anything… potions, elixirs, miracles, and poisons.
The controlled fire, the careful flow of spiritual energy, the delicate equilibrium of elements—it was like watching a symphony where every note carried danger and wonder. And he was drawn to it completely.
His spiritual sea pulsed faintly, resonating with the residual energy floating in the room. The elemental particles around him trembled, echoing the rhythm of the Elixir.
A slow smile crept across his lips.
"So this is what real alchemy feels like," he whispered.
Professor Margot glanced at him from the corner of her eye, a faint smile of approval ghosting across her face.
"Good," she murmured. "That look in your eyes… that's what separates a dabbler from a Magus. Curiosity sharper than fear."
Adem bowed his head slightly, still dazed. "I'll master this, Professor. No matter how long it takes."
Margot turned away, hiding her satisfaction.
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Yo , it's me again, don't forget to me where I can improve either in plot or something.
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