Root of Wisdom

"Squeak, squeak-squeak, squeak!"

Ignoring the sounds from the meat lump—which, while unintelligible, certainly didn't sound very clean—Olive carefully ground the [Tartar Emetic] into a fine powder. She sprinkled it over the pulsating skin of the meat, causing the tentacles to twitch violently. Next, she opened the lid of the transparent water tank. With a wet splat, the meat lump rolled around a few times before flattening out completely, exuding an aura of utter existential despair.

I'm tired. Just destroy me already. Hurry up.

Shifting her attention away from the tank, Olive meticulously wiped the slime from her palms with a handkerchief. She spoke abruptly, offering her first greeting to her apprentice since their reunion.

"Hmm, the one Veronica mentioned—the alchemy apprentice found at the original site of the Sacred Heart Hospital who awakened the First Seal—is that you?"

"...Ah?"

Even knowing her mentor's personality, such a blunt question made Hohenheim stiffen for a moment. He instinctively wanted to gloss over it, just as he had hidden the existence of the [Flame of Destiny] before. However, after a brief hesitation, the boy finally nodded in confirmation.

"Yes."

Now, it was Olive's turn to fall silent.

She pursed her lips slightly, and at the base of her right pupil, calcite-like patterns diffused outward. Olive opened her [Alchemy Eye], observing the boy before her as if analyzing a precious material.

Or rather, she was observing the torrent of scorching blood flowing within him.

Wisps of the spirituality of [Ember] were entangled within his blood vessels, using his blood as a carrier to flow throughout his body with every heartbeat. It shared similarities with the principles of the [Heart], yet its core was diametrically opposed.

First Seal: [Blood Scorcher]!

Staring at Hohenheim, Olive maintained an expressionless face. She seemed to be deep in thought, or perhaps just lost in a trance; the prolonged, static silence made Hohenheim's skin crawl.

Just as the meat lump began to slap its tentacles against the glass again and the boy was about to break the silence, Olive rubbed her temples, withdrew her gaze, sighed slowly, and shook her head.

"I don't understand it."

?

???

??????

Countless thoughts swirled, collided, split, and multiplied in his mind, eventually fusing into one giant question mark. Hohenheim had anticipated disappointment, anger, or even surprise, but he had never expected such an answer.

Fortunately, while Olive was socially inept and prone to dramatic pauses, she didn't have the bad habit of speaking in riddles.

"...Although I don't understand it, it is good. Much better than I expected."

"I had originally intended for you to spend a few more years as an alchemy apprentice to build a foundation. Only after you were capable of studying [Great Knowledge] and making achievements on the Tree of Wisdom would I have introduced you to the path of the transcendent."

"However, there is no need for such trouble now."

Tugging at her sleeve, Olive curled her right index finger, signaling Hohenheim to step closer, then reached out to lightly tap his collarbone.

He didn't see how she did it. Hohenheim merely felt a chill, and a wisp of orange-red thread was drawn out, coiling around Olive's finger. Under the breath of her exhale, it visibly disintegrated, dissolving into even finer threads that vanished into the air.

In that instant, Hohenheim had a vision of Veronica's effortless grace when she plucked the silk of a [Mist Spider]. Although the technique was similar, the focus was different—it was gentler and more meticulous.

Following the naming convention of the light screen, this move could perhaps be called: Skill: [Sampling and Investigation]?

Pinching that wisp of orange-red, Olive's expression turned serious as she confirmed to the distracted Hohenheim.

"You are very talented, Hohenheim. As a self-awakened individual, your First Seal is a rare dual-aspect manifestation. This means your desires are sufficient to support the foundations of the [Ember] and [Blood] principles, and it seems you have already made your choice at the crossroads of these two paths."

Hohenheim naturally knew what she was referring to.

In the cramped little apartment in the Lower District, the moment he had exhausted all options and chosen to bite into the monster's flesh—thereby truly awakening the [Flame of Destiny]—he had entered the long, stressful period preceding his transformation into a transcendent.

During this stage, an uncontrollable passion would flood one's heart, preparing the soul to bear the seal. The behavioral patterns driven by this passion in "candidate transcendents" reflected their underlying path inclinations.

For instance, [Blood] corresponded to the intense hunger and urge to [Devour] he had felt at the time. He would naturally have been drawn to the high-level ritual, the [Blood Pool], located beneath the Hound Bar. He would have either fallen into the pool to become nourishment or, by risking everything, usurped the ritual's ownership, seized Belloc's accumulations, and drained the pool to achieve promotion.

--But he had chosen a vastly different direction.

Using the violence of [Ember] to cleanse all filth.

Although the promotion process was interrupted by Saliba's interference, he had instead become a target of covetousness due to the "imminent promotion" state he displayed. In the end, he turned misfortune into a blessing; relying on the [Flame of Destiny] to keep his consciousness clear, he acted with the status of a "Sacrificial Messenger" to usurp Saliba's ritual. He crowned himself amidst despair and flames, gaining the gaze of the Hours through the perfect alignment of time, place, and people, thus achieving the First Seal: [Blood Scorcher].

As if by fate, his foundational desire had been established, and desire was the root of power.

Giving him a moment to think, Olive asked further.

"However, before that, I must ask you. Do you wish to continue with me as your mentor, walk the path of [Ember], and study [Alchemy], a branch of Great Knowledge?"

Even her question was so matter-of-fact, just like how she had previously taken it upon herself to arrange his path as a scholar. Olive seemed to have already confirmed that Hohenheim would never retreat in the face of the transcendent, and as his mentor, all she had to do was provide the choice.

The choice to change his fate.

Her plain, straightforward words continued.

"My reputation in the [Endeavor Society] is not exactly good. I have merely opened a workshop in a small place like Birmingham and achieved some insignificant accomplishments on the path of [Ember]. Compared to the truly great powers, I am nothing more than a minor figure. Aside from teaching you alchemy, I have nothing else of value to offer."

"Your surname is Lancaster. I had assumed it was merely an attempt to climb the social ladder or that you were a fallen branch of the family, but now..." She pushed up her glasses and asserted, "The bloodline of the Lancaster family, the victors of the War of the Roses, resides within your veins."

"As long as you are willing, the [Endeavor Society] would be more than happy to put you on a pedestal and complete another one of their 'noble deeds.' If you are obsessed with worldly power, you could use this bloodline to stake your claim. Once that little queen can no longer bear the weight of such an overwhelming Heavenly Mandate, you could even covet the throne of Avalon..."

"...I think I'll pass. Following you and studying is enough for me."

Terrified by the increasingly absurd future Olive was painting, Hohenheim, who was still a loyal citizen of Avalon, did not hesitate for a second.

Although he looked like a prize catch right now, it was only because of a good lineage and the inheritance of so-called "noble blood." Furthermore, his original self's parents had died under mysterious circumstances; how could Hohenheim be sure he wouldn't become the next sacrifice?

In other words, they did not care about what he desired. If that were the case, how was it any different from Saliba, who needed him as a symbol and fulcrum to serve as a stepping stone for his promotion ritual?

It was nothing more than having better table manners.

When he was still unknown, where were those people? Only the professor before him had chosen him, and not because of some so-called "noble blood."

Now that he was technically a contractor for the Prevention and Suppression Bureau, he should seize the opportunity to improve himself significantly; he needed to reach at least the level of a Knower to stand on his own. Before that, it was better not to wade into the muddy waters of Lancaster.

"...Sigh."

Rubbing her brow with a headache, the professor, who usually appeared a bit too young, revealed for the first time a solemn expression that matched her true age. Looking at the boy who seemed like a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger, she was reminded of her younger self.

No, if she had possessed this dazzling potential back then, she surely would have been even more unruly.

"That is exactly why you make me so conflicted right now, Hohenheim."

"Huh?"

Looking at the still-anxious Hohen, Olive adjusted her glasses. For the first time, she looked at the raw, natural talent before her with the eyes of a craftsman rather than a mentor, harboring a faint sense of anticipation.

Like embers unwilling to cool, a scorching flame was reignited.

"A Surgeon uses a scalpel, and a stonemason wields a chisel; yet, there are tools in this world far more precise than both."

"My teacher once said this to me, and now I pass these words on to you."

"Come, let me see if you are truly cut out for this."

As if a fantasy had come true, under the professor's unprecedented, earnest expectation, Hohen's thoughts stalled for a moment, and a sudden chill ran down his spine.

Since his transmigration, Hohen had been smooth sailing in alchemy thanks to the Flame of Destiny. He had grown accustomed to the thrill of grinding for experience, and even the most troublesome problems could be solved by "letting it move on its own," leading to the illusion that he could achieve results without effort and coast by on selling patents.

Alchemy, it turns out, isn't that hard~

But now, Hohen suddenly realized that beneath those thick lenses, in Olive's eyes, true Great Knowledge was smiling at him.

Telling Hohen.

True study begins at this very moment!