Veylin gently tapped his knuckles against the iron box holding the Insect Kings.
"Master, imagine this."
"We keep breeding them until their shells are as strong as steel, then use them to make armor."
Veylin turned to the deathly pale old man, his eyes burning.
"Or, say, we breed ants that can secrete strong acid and use them to mine ore... We'd need far fewer smiths and miners, and 'keepers' are much easier to train than skilled workers."
Valerius's mind roared.
This wasn't alchemy...
This was industry! A living, biologically based industrial system that could reproduce without limit!
He staggered half a step back, his eyes filled with terror.
"No!" The old man's voice warped into something close to a shriek.
"This is sacrilege! Living creatures are living creatures, and tools are tools!"
"You... you want insects to replace craftsmen? What will happen to the craftsmen? What about the miners?"
"You'll throw the entire world's order into chaos!"
Veylin ignored his bellowing.
He simply regarded the chief Alchemist calmly, as though observing a child frightened by the tide of a new age.
"Order?" Veylin chuckled and countered.
"The order that makes miners cough up blood in dark shafts, leaves them looking like walking corpses by thirty, and gives them a few Silver Moons in return?"
"Or the order that makes smiths hammer away day and night, yet never lets them afford a suit of their own armor in an entire lifetime?"
He stepped forward.
"Master, do you think that kind of order deserves to be preserved?"
Valerius fell silent at once.
His mouth hung open, but not a syllable came out.
Veylin's calm words carried more force than any roar, tearing the "order" he took such pride in to shreds.
Veylin paid him no further attention and once again focused