Chapter Twelve: Elegant Cruelty

The Carmel family’s estate was nestled in a picturesque spot just outside Fragrant Leaf City. The family had claimed a vast tract of land here, planting rows of verdant paulownia trees around the perimeter, so that the entire Purple Grape Manor was hidden behind the leafy woods. Even in winter, the emerald leaves of the paulownias gave the place the appearance of midsummer.

At the heart of the grove, a winding path of pebbles had been laid. Whenever a carriage approached, sharp-eyed servants would hurry ahead to attend to the arrival, quickly ascertaining the identity and purpose of the visitor before reporting to their master. This ensured that no embarrassing incidents arose from being caught unprepared.

After traversing the long pebble path, one would arrive at the Purple Grape Manor itself. The manner in which guests were received depended entirely on their status.

Distinguished visitors would be ushered straight to an elegant salon, where the master would grant them an audience. Ordinary guests would be asked to wait in the main hall.

But today’s visitor left the servants at a loss. As they hesitated over whether to allow the guest in, Xiu Yi resolved the matter himself.

“I think we can go straight to the alchemy chamber,” he said, making it clear that this young mage valued efficiency.

“Please, follow me,” the steward Gary replied respectfully.

Not far off, a servant rushed over and gestured subtly to Gary, who nodded in understanding. They did not know that Xiu Yi had spent nearly four years doing menial labor and was fully versed in the meaning of such signals—they meant the master wished to observe the guest first and had no immediate intention of appearing.

Xiu Yi smiled faintly.

The Carmel family’s alchemy chamber was not large, staffed by only a single alchemist and two assistants. In truth, for most alchemists, potion-making was but one aspect of their work. More often, they preferred to pursue new branches of alchemical research rather than stagnate in the repetitive production of known formulas.

Regrettably, alchemy was a profession that devoured wealth. Without the backing of a powerful family, few alchemists could survive, much less make progress. Assisting noble families and merchants with potion-making was a crucial means for some alchemists to advance. Yet most patrons showed no interest in funding the development of new products—such endeavors were far too costly. They preferred investing in tried-and-true recipes with reliable returns.

This meant that those who became family alchemists were typically individuals with a particular skill, but who might never again rise beyond their present achievements.

The man Gary now led Xiu Yi to meet was just such an alchemist of the Lance Empire—George Diamond, a master renowned for his expertise in potions.

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“Oh, what did you just say? You’ve brought that meddling fool who ruined my laboratory? He claims he’s come to instruct me in potion-making?”

Even before entering, Xiu Yi heard George Diamond’s furious roar.

“No, this is an insult!” the man bellowed.

At the doorway, Xiu Yi beheld a middle-aged man in alchemist’s robes and a pointed hat, venting his spleen at the servants.

Upon seeing Xiu Yi at the entrance, George Diamond, the Carmel family’s alchemist, exploded in rage:

“So, it’s this whelp who hasn’t even grown all his hair who wants to teach me how to brew potions? How ridiculous! I won’t accept his meddling! Get him out of my laboratory at once! What? A mage? No, he can’t be a mage—every alchemist knows a few spells. Maybe this boy just pulled a few tricks and fooled you into thinking he’s something special. No, I absolutely refuse to let him interfere in my work. The only mercy I’ll show is not breaking his legs myself!”

Xiu Yi frowned slightly.

In a low voice, he asked Gary, “He seems rather ill-tempered? I only came to help solve your problem, nothing more.”

Gary answered carefully, “Master George Diamond is a highly esteemed alchemist in the Empire. The patriarch’s influence is the only reason we could engage him. The family’s entire potion business relies on Master Diamond, which is why we never produce anything below top-grade. It’s perfectly normal for someone of his station to be difficult to approach.”

Gary’s words made it clear—nearly all capable alchemists were like this.

Lofty, arrogant, and imperious.

Xiu Yi suddenly realized he had overlooked something. All his years on Purgatory Island, even those notorious for their ruthlessness—Heinz, Pierre, Andrew—never put on airs before the servants.

This had led him, subconsciously, to assume that all alchemists ought to behave the same.

But the truth was, arrogance required two foundations: first, an overwhelming sense of superiority and power; second, a suitable audience to witness it.

On Purgatory Island, Heinz and his peers possessed more ability than all the empire’s alchemists combined, but they lacked the second foundation. Arrogance brought them no satisfaction, so they simply focused on their work.

Yet, outside that island, almost every alchemist of any standing Xiu Yi encountered was outrageously arrogant. It had nothing to do with their abilities, but rather those two critical foundations.

With this, Xiu Yi understood why his arrival had provoked in George Diamond such unreasoning fury—his offer of guidance was, in the latter’s eyes, nothing short of a direct challenge, an insult to his competence.

Xiu Yi allowed himself a wry smile.

Perhaps it was time to show the man a lesson.

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Entering the laboratory, Xiu Yi glanced around.

He then looked up at the alchemist. “Master George Diamond? My name is Fink Danito. Pleased to meet you.”

“Oh, the pleasure’s all yours. I’m extremely busy! I have a mountain of work, and I’ve no time to chat with an incompetent boy who’s already botched my potions. What do you want? To tell me how to make potions? Laughable. How old are you? How many potions have you brewed? What skill do you possess in alchemy? Get off my premises at once!”

The alchemist’s tirade was nothing short of rude.

Xiu Yi approached him without the least sign of fear. “My mentor once told me, the world is never short of conceited men. Lacking real talent, yet never willing to listen to others’ counsel. I just didn’t expect to find such a person even in a family as reputable as the Carmel. It’s a pity.”

“You dare insult me?”

“No, that’s not an insult—merely a statement of fact,” Xiu Yi replied, unflappable.

He stepped around the alchemist and approached the worktable, picking up some of the ingredients laid out there, ignoring the man’s shouted protests to put them down.

Looking up at George Diamond, Xiu Yi continued, “Perhaps you believe yourself a peerless master in potion-making, above all advice. But I doubt anyone can claim true mastery of all alchemy…” His gaze swept over the table. “It’s hard to imagine you’d actually place fire-serpent ichor, wind-howl blood, and deep-sea whale ointment side by side like this.”

The boy’s tone was calm, yet his words made it sound as if the alchemist had committed a grave mistake.

George Diamond was momentarily stunned. “So what? What’s the problem with that? Will anything happen if they’re together?”

“What’s the problem?” Xiu Yi looked up sharply. “Perhaps I should show you exactly what can happen. Shall we try a little experiment?”

With that, Xiu Yi swiftly seized a beaker, poured generous amounts of fire-serpent ichor and wind-howl blood into it, and said, “Let’s see what else we have here. Ah, some dried leeches—let’s crush them into powder. There, that’s right, toss some in. And here, this can act as an accelerator. Some catalyst as well—let’s add a bit. Now, a few more ingredients… See, the process isn’t complicated. I’m sure you’re following, Master?”

Xiu Yi’s deft handling of the materials made it obvious he was no charlatan in the field.

After quickly preparing the mixture, the beaker held a potion ready for reaction. It flowed quietly within, but no one knew what it truly was.

A mysterious smile played on Xiu Yi’s lips as he picked up a box of ointment made from the fat of a deep-sea leviathan.

“Master Diamond, I’m sure you know fire-serpent ichor is an excellent generator of fire elementals. Under certain conditions, it will continuously produce fire elementals until it’s depleted. You’re aware of that, correct?”

As he spoke, Xiu Yi slowly poured the ointment into the beaker.

At once, the mixture began to change, minute bubbles forming within.

“Take this,” the youth said, handing the beaker to the alchemist.

George Diamond took it in confusion.

He watched as the fire-serpent ichor churned, as if something inside was trying to escape.

Xiu Yi’s voice was devilish in his ear:

“Yes, just as you see now—I’ve used nothing but the materials you so casually left on your table to create this fire element process. Now, the fire-serpent ichor is generating fire elementals non-stop. Normally, these would dissipate harmlessly into the air, but the ointment I added has a peculiar restraining power, trapping them for a time. This lets us observe them more clearly… Of course, it’s only temporary. Magic elements detest such restraints, but for now, the mixture is producing fire elementals at an accelerating rate, thanks to the quantities I used. Their strength will only increase…”

Indeed, just as Xiu Yi described, the liquid in the beaker was birthing fire elementals—red bubbles swelling and bursting, like tiny fireballs popping within.

He fixed the alchemist with a steady gaze.

“In order to break free from the ointment’s restraint, the fire elementals need to amass enough power. Do you know how powerful the resulting explosion will be once they reach that threshold? Even this small beaker’s worth could blow the entire room to pieces.”

All present recoiled in fright.

George Diamond stared at Xiu Yi in utter shock, mumbling, “Oh… my God…”

Yet the boy’s expression remained as composed as ever, as if he’d done nothing of consequence.

He said softly, “Master, your time is running short. The fire-serpent ichor is churning out more fire elementals by the second. Because I added ample quantities this time, they’ll reach critical mass very soon. So, let’s begin the countdown, shall we? I estimate you have about thirty seconds before detonation. Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”

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The air froze. All eyes turned to George Diamond.

The once arrogant master alchemist now trembled, staring at the roiling beaker in terror.

“Twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three…” Xiu Yi’s countdown continued.

“No!” the alchemist cried out. “Tell me what to do! Hurry!”

“Twenty. Master Diamond, you’re an outstanding alchemist. Surely such a minor issue can’t stump you.”

“Are you insane? It’s about to explode! Fix it!” George Diamond howled, nearly hysterical.

“Eighteen, seventeen.” The youth’s voice remained calm: “No need to panic, Master. We still have time. Composure—remember your composure. An alchemist is elegant, wise, noble. We never shout, not even in the face of death…”

The beaker’s liquid now frothed with dense red bubbles, like liquid dynamite, ready to devastate everything in its path.

Everyone stared, transfixed by the beaker, by the blood-red tumult within—a prelude to volcanic cataclysm.

“Thirteen… twelve…” The boy’s voice was as serene and elegant as ever, his expression tranquil.

He seemed a model youth, as though he were merely playing with a toy.

He smiled through it all, heedless of the alchemist’s terror.

“No! No! You lunatic, fix it!” George Diamond screamed, hands shaking uncontrollably.

Unmoved, Xiu Yi placed his hands behind his back. “Hold it steady, Master Diamond. Haven’t thought of a solution? You still have ten seconds.”

“Oh, my God, my God, this is madness—I can’t fix it!” the alchemist wailed, “Please, I yield! You’re better than me! I apologize! Oh, God, it’s going to blow!”

He screamed himself hoarse, while inside the beaker, flames began to flicker—the fire elementals were trying to burst free, while at the bottom, more gathered, coalescing like magma before eruption.

Even a fool could see that if these forcibly contained elementals exploded, it would demolish more than just the laboratory; the entire estate might be obliterated.

“I said I yield—did you hear me?!” George Diamond finally broke down in tears.

Xiu Yi shook his head regretfully. “Why surrender so soon? I told you, there’s still time… seven seconds left.”

Tears streaming, George Diamond pleaded, “No, I beg you! Don’t let it explode, take it from me… Oh, God! Take it, let me go… This is madness!”

With a gentle sigh, the youth shook his head with a smile. “I’m surprised—your courage is not at all equal to your arrogance. I’m sorry to have frightened you…”

Xiu Yi calmly took the beaker from his hand.

Only five seconds remained.

Everyone held their breath.

Still smiling, Xiu Yi explained, “The solution is actually simple—just add some wintergrass sap, which rapidly absorbs fire elementals. But don’t use too much at once, or it’ll destroy the ointment’s restraint before the elementals are absorbed, causing a premature explosion.”

He added a few drops of wintergrass sap.

At that moment, only one second remained.

The beaker, on the verge of explosion, was saturated with fire elementals ready to burst. George Diamond was limp with terror, unable even to run.

But as soon as the wintergrass sap touched the mixture, the flames vanished. The amassed fire elementals dissipated instantly, leaving only a billow of white vapor at the mouth of the beaker—a fleeting testament to their previous presence.

The once-violent world within the beaker had quieted as if nothing had ever happened.

Just like that, it was over.

George Diamond gasped for breath, sweat pouring down his face, staring at Xiu Yi in speechless awe.

In fact, everyone was dumbstruck.

Xiu Yi stood there, still smiling.

He looked every bit the distinguished young aristocrat—elegant, calm, scholarly, never overstepping propriety.

He had, with a few common ingredients, conjured a deadly crisis and then dispelled it at the last moment, all with unwavering composure.

People now realized that behind this youth’s gentle manners lay a fearsome ruthlessness.

A refined ruthlessness.

A touch of madness, elegantly concealed.