Unexpected (Thanks to Two of Bamboos for the Alliance Leader

Blood Fever.

That was what alchemists called this condition.

A chain reaction triggered by the accumulation of large amounts of Hell Sediment and abyssal essence within the body, alchemical poison that had seeped in bit by bit through years of contact with miracles and calamities.

Miracles and calamities too immense had taken root within it. Once the restless phase began, Source Matter rapidly split apart, interfering with the body and producing terrifying High Temperature.

It was the favor of molten fire.

Afflicted alchemists instead took pride in it.

If one had not ventured too deeply down this path, if one could not forge the purest miracles and calamities, one could never possess such profound karmic consequence.

This was not a condition that could not be suppressed or alleviated.

For Garland, even more so.

Only, the timing could not have been worse—at such an awkward juncture.

He could neither replace his blood nor cool himself in the Silver Cellar. In the lunar environment, Garland could only barely keep it under control, using dialysis to disperse the High Temperature in his body as quickly as possible, then injecting medicine to physically freeze and cool it.

Half an hour later, when the old man rose from the melted chairs, not a trace of scorching heat remained around him.

Instead, he radiated waves of bone-piercing chill.

His eyes had turned a frozen pure white.

When the door was pushed open, the alchemists arguing noisily in the lounge finally calmed down.

Literally—they quieted down in the cold.

The chill was oppressive.

Among the agitated alchemists, someone spoke. "Grandmaster, we have to depart immediately. If we delay any longer, who knows what might happen?"

Leaning on his cane, Garland slowly stepped forward and merely said, "Someone has not arrived yet."

"Isn't everyone already here?"

A red-haired