After a swift first phase of renovation, Nameless Hill in Newborn Town underwent a second phase on an even larger scale.
Rather than wielding pickaxes, the workers followed the alchemy apprentices' directions, splashing bottle after bottle of bubbling "Stone to Mud" potion onto the rock walls.
Under the potion's effects, the hard rock rapidly softened into malleable earth.
Another team of craftsmen worked like sculptors, using enormous molds to shape it into orderly rooms and corridors. Then "Mud to Stone" potion was poured over it, giving the newly formed walls a hardness comparable to granite.
Master Valerius followed Veylin through this corridor born of magic and labor. At last, Veylin stopped before a heavy iron door.
"...Veylin, forgive my bluntness, but by 'an interesting experiment,' did you mean bringing me to see these... dung-ball enthusiasts?"
Master Valerius adjusted his glasses, striving to maintain his dignity as a scholar, but the slight twitch of his nostrils betrayed his true feelings about the laboratory's smell.
The room before them was brightly lit, with dozens of waist-high iron boxes arranged in neat rows, each densely packed with dung beetles pushing dung balls.
"Rot-Shell Dung Beetles, level-one magical insects. Aside from shells slightly harder than those of ordinary insects, they have no alchemical value."
Valerius delivered his assessment, his tone puzzled. "I truly cannot imagine what makes them worth breeding yourself."
"They have no value because the gods' creations are riddled with redundancy and inefficiency." Veylin walked up to a large iron box, his gaze eager.
"Master, the essence of alchemy is 'transformation,' correct? Using rituals and materials to give matter new properties."
"Of course. That is the cornerstone of alchemy." Valerius nodded.
"But that is too slow." Veylin's voice suddenly grew deep, carrying a strange, compelling power. "What if, instead of 'transforming' dead