Hel's analysis left everyone present frozen in place.
Albert's students all wore stunned expressions.
In their minds, only one thought remained:
Who in the world is this person's subordinate? How can someone be this fearless?
At the same time, they were eagerly waiting for Vice Dean Albert to erupt in fury—waiting for this ignorant fool, who clearly didn't know the height of heaven or the depth of earth, to be thrown out on the spot.
To them, it didn't matter who Hel was.
It didn't matter whether what she said made sense.
What mattered was that today…there was going to be entertainment.
But contrary to their expectations, Albert did not explode.
After hearing Hel's words, he instead fell into deep thought.
Rationally, he believed what she said was complete nonsense.
Some kind of "life transmutation technique"?
How could there possibly be alchemy that broke the Three Principles?
But emotionally…he wanted to believe her.
Because only then could he explain why, after more than ten years of reverse research on the Philosopher's Stone…they still had not uncovered anything meaningful.
So he restrained himself and asked Hel humbly,
"May I ask, student… you said that two thousand years ago, someone had already created a Philosopher's Stone. Is that true?"
This was what Albert cared about most.
If such a person truly existed, then their name should have been passed down.
Even if the Holy Court had imposed a knowledge blockade…some scattered legends might still remain.
Hel recalled a bit of obscure knowledge she had once discussed with the Magic Witch, and spoke calmly.
"I believe it was more than two thousand years ago.
In the magic empire of Sothir, there was an alchemist named Nicolas Flamel.
Through a Soul-Fusion Method, he created the very first Philosopher's Stone.
But later, he went to the Holy Court…and never returned."
Strictly speaking, Hel's alchemy came from the goblins.
There were subtle differences between goblin alchemy and human alchemy.
And she didn't actually know many famous human alchemists.
But she had heard that name—Nicolas—mentioned once by the Magic Witch.
He seemed to have been quite an extraordinary figure.
Hel simply hadn't expected that the moment she said the name…
Albert hadn't even reacted yet—when one of the students suddenly cried out in shock:
"Nicolas Flamel? Isn't that the fraud who claimed to have made an immortality potion?"
"Immortality potion… fraud…"
With that reminder, Albert finally remembered who Nicolas Flamel was.
But unlike the student, Albert trusted Hel's words even more.
Because in his early years studying abroad in the Ymir Empire, his mentor had once told him:
In the southern continent, many brilliant scholars—once they discovered knowledge sealed away by the Holy Court—would be taken away by the Court, offered "better opportunities."
But publicly, in order to bury those discoveries…the Holy Court would smear and disgrace them.
So the people of the south would continue believing that alchemy was inherently inconvenient, that potion-making was inherently complicated, and that the advancement of transcendents was forever limited by talent—that whether noble or commoner, their life's ceiling had already been decided at birth.
Of course, later on…the Bloodline Academy's blood transplantation technology, and the Potion Academy's extremely costly breakthrough elixirs, finally shattered the last line of the Church's knowledge blockade.
Only then did people realize…talent did not decide everything.
So Albert believed that Nicolas Flamel was very likely one of those truly great alchemists.
Thus, he ignored the student's outburst entirely.
Instead, he looked at Hel with burning sincerity, and bowed deeply like a seeker of knowledge.
"May I ask… do you know how the Soul-Fusion Method is performed?"
"I do."
Hel nodded.
Then she swept her gaze across the room before looking back at Albert.
"I can also tell you the Spirit-Gathering Method and the Soul-Congealing Method that come after it.
But as an alchemist…you should understand the principle of equivalent exchange.
And as an alchemist…maintaining an appropriate level of secrecy is also a necessary form of protection."
Albert immediately understood.
He waved his hand, dismissing all the students from the laboratory.
Only when the room was left with just the three of them…did he hurriedly toss the clutter from the sofa onto the floor.
He even wiped the dust away with his sleeve.
Then, in an awkward tone that was unmistakably ingratiating, he said,
"Master… please sit. I'll make you some tea."
But after glancing around his laboratory…he realized that although the massive room was filled with every kind of alchemical material…there was not a single tool for making tea.
Seeing this, Hel waved her hand, signaling him to stop.
At the same time, she pulled Hiness to sit beside her.
She looked at Albert, who sat stiffly across from them, his hands so tense he didn't even know where to place them.
Then she went straight to the point.
"Enough. No need for that.
Since you want my techniques…you should already be prepared to pay the corresponding price."
"Y-Yes."
Albert replied nervously.
At this moment, he felt as though he had returned to the Royal Alchemy Institute of Ymir, standing before his own mentor.
And the more he felt this way…the more convinced he became that this absurdly young girl before him was a hidden alchemical giant.
Perhaps today…was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that could overturn his entire life.
No matter what price he had to pay, he wanted that formula.
Even if it cost him his life.
But Hel simply held Hiness's hand and introduced her to Albert.
"This is Savant's Seventh Princess, Hiness.
And she is the future King of Savant whom I intend to support."
"This…"
Albert froze.
Completely ignorant of politics, he had no idea what Hel was trying to do.
But Hel's next explanation made it clear.
"In this royal election, your Alchemy Academy is supporting the Fourth Princess.
So my condition is simple:
Your academy must abandon the Fourth Princess…and give its full support to Hiness instead."
"This…"
Albert hesitated.
He had already prepared himself to sacrifice everything—but that did not mean he could represent the will of the entire academy.
He understood his own weight.
In the academy, he was little more than a symbol.
The one who truly held power was still the dean.
And so, Albert cautiously tested the waters.
"Could we… change the condition? I don't have the authority to decide the Alchemy Academy's stance."