Chapter Five: Lancelot (Part One)

The days that followed became simple and monotonous.

The sheer number of books in the library meant he never had to worry about running out of things to study.

Of course, Gong Hao still spent most of his time in the greenhouse. As before, he carefully studied the various magical plants, observing their habits, their natures, and their preferences.

He noticed that these magical plants also possessed emotions. When he cut away some of their roots or extracted their sap, they showed pain and fear. And when he took good care of them, they responded with happiness and even laughter.

For instance, the Weeping Grass did not always weep. Once, he saw with his own eyes that the Weeping Grass stopped crying when a pot of Enchantment Grass was placed beside it.

From that day, Gong Hao kept the Enchantment Grass and the Weeping Grass together, and discovered that the Weeping Grass's secretion of saliva increased significantly, as did the yield of materials from the Enchantment Grass.

This allowed him to collect several times more than before in a single harvest.

A few days later, Gong Hao found a record about the Enchantment Grass and the Weeping Grass in the library. The record did not describe in detail the life forms of these two magical plants, but it mentioned an interesting phenomenon: wherever there was Enchantment Grass, there was always Weeping Grass. The two were never found alone.

Companion magical plants? The thought flashed through Gong Hao's mind.

He understood one thing very well: the growth of any life form is deeply connected to its ecological context. The closer a being is to its original living conditions, the better it thrives; otherwise, it falters. This meant that the improved growth of the Weeping Grass and the Enchantment Grass was likely related to this phenomenon. If he could deepen his understanding of the native ecology of these plants, it would greatly benefit their cultivation.

Furthermore, magical plants were the foundation for the existence of all magical beasts and insects. The extinction of many magical beasts was often caused by the destruction of their natural habitats. If these magical plants could be cultivated on a large scale, it would not be a dream to restore the former glory of alchemy.

He began to make a conscious effort to prioritize learning everything related to magical plants.

Alchemists usually did not pay much attention to the gathering of materials, as such tasks were left to apprentices or servants. Thus, the library's records on magical plants were limited, but Gong Hao still found many useful things.

Through these records, Gong Hao realized he could completely optimize the cultivation of the forty-two magical plants in Area 13. He began to experiment, and the results were almost immediate.

The work efficiency in Area 3 increased significantly. Tasks that once took five hours could now be completed in just two. Although Gong Hao still had to go to the library every day for record-keeping, he actually found himself with more leisure time.

This left many of the servants clicking their tongues in amazement.

Yet the seed of the Blood Orchid that he had planted showed no sign of sprouting. More than ten days passed without even a single shoot emerging, which left Gong Hao deeply troubled.

A month quickly passed.

According to the rules, Andrew would take away a batch of servants whose work was unsatisfactory.

As expected, Andrew did not take Gong Hao but kept him on. Brent, who had once bullied Xiu Yi and Fink, was among those taken away.

This time, twelve people were taken, and on the same day, the Liberty brought twelve new servants.

Seeing the newcomers, Gong Hao was suddenly struck by a realization.

He remembered that the Liberty had taken five days to reach Purgatory Island, and that Xiu Yi Glaire had been bought by the golden-armored warrior Chakley seven days earlier, with Fink and himself being the twelfth and thirteenth to be chosen. This meant Chakley had spent at least three days collecting boys who met his criteria.

Therefore, at least ten days before the new servants were transported, the Liberty already knew exactly how many would be needed at Purgatory Island.

Given that the current Wind Song Continent seemed not to possess long-range communication, it was likely that at each delivery, Purgatory Island informed the Liberty how many new servants would be needed next time.

That is to say, they set the number of required servants in advance, and then, based on this number, selected the worst-performing for removal each month.

So, the departure of these servants was clearly not as simple as poor performance...

But where exactly did they go? Gong Hao was desperate to know the answer.

"Sisle." Gong Hao sought out Sisle once more.

Over the past month, whenever he had spare time, Gong Hao helped Sisle with tasks, and so they had developed a good relationship.

"Hey, Glaire, I've finished today's work already. You don't need to help me," Sisle said.

"Oh, that's a pity," Gong Hao replied.

"It's nothing, Glaire. Thank you for the thought."

"Sisle, can you do me a favor?"

"Go ahead, as long as it's within my ability."

"It's like this. I remember that every time the Liberty delivers goods, we have to send a group of people to hand over the month's alchemical products."

"That's right."

"Next month, could you send me?"

"Why?"

Gong Hao shrugged. "I haven’t seen the sea for a month. Being locked in this castle for so long is stifling."

"I thought you only cared about work." Sisle laughed heartily. "Alright, no problem. Next month, I'll arrange for you to go with the others to deliver the goods... Though the Sea of Death isn't much to look at."

"By the way, the month I arrived, you had records of goods coming in and out, right? Could I take a look?"

"Why?"

"I just wanted to see how much we've contributed to the empire over the years."

Sisle agreed with a smile, found the records, and handed them to Gong Hao.

Gong Hao carefully examined the records from the past half-year, but his attention was mainly on the comings and goings of people.

After a while, he frowned. "Are these only for the past six months?"

"Older records are all stored in the library. Aren’t you working there? You can find them yourself."

"Thanks."

Gong Hao paused, then turned back to Sisle. "Oh, and Sisle, could you not mention this to anyone? I suspect Lord Andrew doesn’t like people asking too many questions, and I’d rather not upset him."

"No problem," Sisle replied readily.

Back in the library, Gong Hao wore a grave expression.

He began swiftly searching through all personnel records for Purgatory Island over the past twenty years.

The records were not classified and were easy to find.

To his surprise, in the early days of the laboratory, as many as forty or fifty servants were sent each month. But as time went on, the number gradually decreased.

Yet what truly filled him with dread was this: in all the years of records, not a single servant had ever worked on Purgatory Island for more than a year. Even the best performers, after a year, were forcibly taken away.

All those taken away were no older than sixteen.

There was another uncanny coincidence—the number of flesh golems, undead puppets, and those so-called demonic spirits sent out as goods was always exactly the same as the number of new servants brought in the following month.

What did this mean?

Gently closing the ledger, Gong Hao fell into deep thought.

No matter how deep the fear lurking within him, he had only one choice—to bury his terror and continue working hard.

Sometimes, work is the best way to forget everything. Perhaps his fascination with mysterious sciences made him so engrossed that he forgot all else, including those terrifying suspicions.

Thus, Gong Hao devoted himself even more to the study of alchemy, diligently reading through the books in the library. When two hours proved insufficient, he would secretly take some books with him. Eventually, he even began openly bringing library books back to Area 13 to study, as it seemed the apprentices did not mind.

Today, Gong Hao was in the greenhouse, reading about the preparation of corrosive agents. These agents were usually applied to weapons to grant them the ability to pierce armor. The agent itself was not difficult to prepare; the challenge lay in preventing the weapon from being corroded as well. This required coating the weapon with a protective, corrosion-resistant membrane before application. The more powerful the agent, the higher the demands on the membrane's resistance.

This design, both sword and shield in one, made improving the effectiveness of corrosive agents a difficult problem.

So far, such agents could only pierce ordinary armor, and were nearly useless against well-crafted magical armor.

Gong Hao was engrossed, analyzing the various ingredients and their proportions for both the agent and the membrane, when a deep voice suddenly sounded beside him: "Very diligent, I see."

Gong Hao looked up sharply, startled to see a middle-aged man in ancient armor standing before him.

The man was clearly no automaton, but a true warrior. With long brown hair and a sword at his left hip that shimmered with magical light, his armor bore dark blood-red patterns, and the killing aura radiating from him was palpable—an inherent, commanding presence.

Gong Hao quickly closed his book and bowed respectfully. "My lord."

"I hope I haven't disturbed you," the middle-aged warrior said, a weathered face breaking into a slight smile.

"No, you haven’t," Gong Hao replied nervously.

He did not know who this man was and could only choose his words carefully, addressing him formally.

From behind the warrior stepped an apprentice—Yvo. Gong Hao had become familiar with the apprentices through his frequent library visits, and had even met Lord Pierre once, though never Lord Hines. Yvo now said, "This is Lord Lancelot."

Gong Hao bowed again. "Greetings, Lord Lancelot."

So this was the man Niel had spoken of, on par with Andrew and Pierre. He had thought Lancelot an alchemist, but he was a warrior.

Lancelot waved his hand, and Yvo brought over a flowerpot.

The flower was most peculiar—its blossom resembled a human face, yet was twisted and terrifying, baring fangs and occasionally flicking out a long, blood-red tongue.

"Ghostface Flower?" Gong Hao exclaimed.

The Ghostface Flower was a highly aggressive plant capable of releasing potent toxic gas, effective against most creatures. Alchemists extracted powerful poisons from its sap.

"No, this is not an ordinary Ghostface Flower," Lancelot shook his head. "The toxicity of the Ghostface Flower means its surroundings are always barren, with few other magical plants able to grow nearby. When I found this flower, I first thought it was a Ghostface Flower, but I couldn't understand why so many other magical plants grew around it. I suspect it's not a Ghostface Flower at all."

"Then what is it?" Gong Hao asked, intrigued.

Lancelot smiled faintly. "That is exactly why I brought it to Area 13. I’ve heard the servants here have the easiest lives, and even with scribe duties, you have plenty of time to read alchemical notes."

"I just want to do my library work well," Gong Hao replied.

"Regardless, you certainly have enough time. From now on, this flower is your responsibility. Nurture it well—it may very well be a new species."

Gong Hao nodded eagerly. "My lord, may I ask where you found this flower?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'd like to understand its environment and habits. If it's not an ordinary Ghostface Flower and can coexist with other magical plants, I can't treat it as one. The more I know about its habitat, the better I can care for it."

Lancelot nodded. "Fair point. I found this flower in the central region of Purgatory Island, growing in a swamp, alongside a seventh-rank Spotted Venom Python."

The central region? A seventh-rank Venom Python?

Gong Hao's heart pounded violently.

He finally understood Lancelot’s role. He was the one responsible for capturing magical beasts in the jungle, seeking out rare species, and bringing back any creature that could provide valuable materials.

To venture into the central jungle of Purgatory Island, home to the most powerful magical beasts, this man must possess extraordinary strength.