Plans

Wilson came from a Magic Clan on Ailande, but he was not a magical genius. The fact that he had not advanced to Intermediate Alchemist in the twenty years since becoming a Full Alchemist proved it. However, the world of Alchemists was not judged entirely by practical accomplishments; academic standing also mattered. As he grew old and frail, with no hope of advancement, he desperately longed for an academic achievement he could be proud of.

Among the subjects he was currently researching was a project to reproduce the Artificial Stone found in ruins from the Guoluo Muluo era. Of course, there were many worthwhile subjects in ruins from before the Great Cataclysm, especially the Alchemical items carefully preserved in the core areas of those ruins, which had remained intact for thousands of years. Some of their functions were practically miraculous. But those things were beyond the reach of a Full Alchemist like him—or rather, a Beginner Level Alchemist. Artificial Stone, however, which had been widely used in the construction of ruins, was something any Alchemist could study.

The Artificial Stone in those ancient ruins was mostly gray-white, and most of it was less dense than real stone. At first, the scholars excavating the ruins believed it to be some unknown kind of rock. Yet as they went deeper into the ruins, they discovered countless buildings constructed from this material. They were not things ordinary people could easily build, and in the central areas of the ruins, walls several meters thick made of Artificial Stone protected the core. The scholars had no choice but to hire Alchemists to forcibly demolish certain structures. That was how this Artificial Stone entered the Alchemists' field of vision.

Current research showed that after this Artificial Stone was broken down using a Transmutation Circle, its composition was exactly the same as certain kinds of rock. Yet when Alchemists used a Transmutation Circle to synthesize it again according to the proportions of its materials, they obtained only real stone, not this Artificial Stone. For now, they could only infer that this Artificial Stone did not rely on extraordinary power, but was a material ordinary people could mass-produce and mold effectively. After all, the scale of those ruins could not have been built by the small number of professionals alone.

When Wilson took the stone Edward handed him, he had thought the youngster had stumbled upon an unprocessed gemstone through Dogshit Luck. But upon closer inspection, he recognized it as Artificial Stone identical to that found in the ruins. The Alchemy Department's teaching laboratory had plenty of such stone samples. He had been about to mock this ignorant Apprentice and tell him not to assume everything from a ruin was valuable.

But on second thought, this student would never try to fool him with a worthless stone if he wanted his help. He had clearly come prepared. Everyone in the Alchemy Department knew about his research topic. Therefore, it was only logical that this student had solved the long-standing problem of manufacturing Artificial Stone and was using the technology Wilson desperately wanted as leverage to ask for his assistance.

At that thought, he found it hard to believe. He had researched the matter for years without gaining any results, yet this Apprentice had studied Alchemy for only a few years and had already achieved so much?

He raised his head and asked uncertainly, "Could it be...?"

The student standing across from him wore an expression of absolute confidence.

"That's right. Just as you think. A method for the mass production of Artificial Stone by ordinary means."

As he spoke, he pulled a document with gilded edges from his pocket. The words Ayrland Empire Patent Office were printed at the top. Wilson immediately forgot his manners and snatched the patent document from him, examining it closely.

"A method for the mass production of Cement?" Wilson looked up at Edward. "Ce... ment. I didn't read that wrong, did I? Is this a made-up word?" His face said plainly, I've read plenty, so don't try to fool me.

Edward sat back down, leaned against the chair, crossed his right leg over his left, and looked entirely relaxed.

"Respected Mentor Wilson, do you think I could have walked out of the Patent Office if I had written 'a method for the mass production of Guoluo Muluo Artificial Stone'? They would definitely tie me up and send me to the Royal Alchemist Committee for detailed questioning. Within days, newspapers would be full of headlines saying: Shocking—Ayrland Empire Solves the Mystery of the Millennium Ruins! Better to make up a word. Ever since the Patent Office was established the year before last, new things like this have emerged one after another. Most of them are handed over to ignorant Alchemist Apprentices like me for review."

"Can you guarantee it?" Wilson's voice was urgent.

"I guarantee that everything I said is true. The Cement I developed is Artificial Stone. We can sign a Magic Contract. People can lie, but contracts cannot." Edward spoke calmly as he pulled a thick stack of documents from his robe.

"These are my Notes from the beginning of my research, along with the final paper on the results. As long as you sign your name, the doors of the Royal Alchemist Committee will open for you, and the Philosopher's Stone Award will beckon to you..." Edward's voice was soft and magnetic. Though it contained no Magic Power, to Mentor Wilson it sounded like a devil's whisper, leaving him distracted and his blood surging.

"But... but why not put your own name on it?" Wilson swallowed. "Such an achievement would be enough to keep you away from the battlefield and make you the most outstanding graduate of this class..."

"You should understand the saying, 'A beggar is not guilty, but a beggar carrying a gold brick is.' I'm merely a nobody. I might gain a good reputation, but the immense benefits that follow would attract countless hands seeking to take it from me. If things went badly, I might even lose my life."

At this point, Edward adjusted his posture and leaned slightly forward before continuing.

"You are different. Your Family can easily block the greedy gazes of all outsiders. Not only can you gain honor, you can turn it into enormous profit. Think about it—how significant would something that can rapidly construct defensive fortifications be in future wars? And all you need to do is help me with a small favor. There are no moral or legal risks whatsoever."

"But... you already registered the patent under your own name. Wouldn't it be bad if people found out...?"

Mentor Wilson rubbed his hands together, his face full of conflict.

"Isn't it commonplace for a student to register a patent for a Mentor devoted to research, then transfer the patent to that Mentor?" Edward asked with a smile.

"Then let's sign the Magic Contract at once!" Mentor Wilson rubbed the Spatial Ring on his left Middle Finger with his right hand, and a blank Magic Contract scroll inlaid with golden patterns appeared in his right hand. Judging by its quality, it was a medium-grade Magic Contract, the Highest Level item the Mentor could obtain. Its binding force was extremely strong. At least, neither of them possessed the strength to violate its restrictions.

"Please wait." Seeing this, Edward smiled and paused the transaction. "Respected Mentor Wilson, do you know what principle Alchemists revere most?"

"Of course, Equivalent Exchange!" Wilson blurted out instinctively, then immediately realized. "You mean helping you repay your loan and graduate early isn't enough leverage?... What else do you want?"

Edward gestured with his lips toward the unremarkable metal ring on Wilson's left Middle Finger.

"This Spatial Ring? Don't even think about it. It's a medium-sized Spatial Ring with thirty cubic meters of space. It's my family heirloom!"

The Mentor covered his left hand and leaned back.

"Don't you think that after becoming a member of the Royal Alchemist Committee, replacing it with a large Spatial Ring as your family heirloom would better suit your status?" Edward continued smiling.

"Then... fine... deal!" The Mentor looked as though his flesh were being carved away. "But I can't give it to you right away. Let me properly arrange the things inside before handing it over."

"Then it's a deal!"

Edward then carefully drafted the contract terms with the Mentor. After copying them onto the official scroll, he and the Mentor placed their hands at either end of the contract, poured in their Magic Power, and imprinted their magical marks on the scroll. The contract then turned into Ashes and vanished. At the same time, both men felt their hearts tighten as invisible Shackles wrapped around them.

That was the power of a Magic Contract. Once activated, it had no physical form, but it pointed directly at one's Original Heart. It compelled people to carry out the terms specified in the contract until the transaction was complete.

Having stopped reminiscing about what had happened not long ago, Edward stepped into the Backyard of the Blacksmith Shop—his home in his memories. The place was now desolate and dilapidated. Weeds filled the courtyard, and the surrounding houses lacked Doors and Windows, clearly having been violently dismantled. Since his Parents had left, thieves who knew the place well had carried away every Bottles and Jars worth even a little money, along with furniture such as tables, chairs, and benches. After that, no one came here again.

This residence had been bought through the tireless efforts of Edward's grandfather and parents over two generations. It stood at the end of South Street by the gates of White Eagle City. Its layout resembled the character for "sun," somewhat like the courtyard houses of the Jin dynasty from his previous life. The front yard contained the blacksmith shop and warehouse, while the rear housed the family residence. It was about twenty meters wide from east to west and forty meters long from north to south, over an acre by the standards of his previous life. In his previous life, that would have been the size of a detached villa. But the New Continent was vast and sparsely populated, so even in densely populated White Eagle City, such a house only counted as middle class.

The house faced north with its back to the south. A cliff lay to the south, and the city wall stood to the east, so sunlight was often blocked by the wall and the southern cliff. The north side faced the street entrance. Only ten meters of the northern side formed a street-facing Shopfront, while the other half was blocked by the neighboring shop to the right. It was the deepest spot on the street. Thus, despite being on the bustling City Gate Street, it had the worst location for a shop. Yet thanks to the fine craftsmanship of two generations of blacksmiths, they had built the renowned signboard of Smith Blacksmith Shop. They had lived a rare, comfortable life and even had enough spare money to support the young Edward through General Knowledge School. This allowed Edward to be tested for magical talent by a Mage from Middle Earth before graduation, enabling him to travel to Middle Earth to study.

After his Parents died, Edward had received a Letter from the real estate agent his Parents had hired. Someone wanted to buy the house, but the offer was very low. At the time, he had earned a little money in the Ayrland Empire and did not care about those Gold Coins. He had also begun to think of returning home. So he rejected the agent and kept the house.

Returning here and looking at this familiar yet unfamiliar place, he felt as though a lifetime had passed. He vigorously rubbed his cheeks, red from the cold, and let out a deep sigh. "This really is bare walls and nothing else."

Remembering how, when he had first been found to possess magical talent, he had puffed out his chest and promised his father, "When I become a Mage, I'll come back and use magic to help you forge iron. I'll become a magical blacksmith!" The memory of the entire Family laughing together made Edward smile knowingly. "Then let the Blacksmith Shop reopen!"