Chapter 6: The Arrival of Little Black

Alchemists held the most revered status on the continent of Aragon, valued even above the noble magi by the great powers of the land. This was due, naturally, to their wondrous ability to turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. The path to becoming an alchemist was so demanding that their numbers were exceedingly rare, and it was this very scarcity that elevated their prestige even higher.

Rowling understood this much. He listened as Kus continued, “There are three kinds of alchemists: potion alchemists, artifact alchemists, and puppet alchemists. Among them, potion alchemists can craft a superior elixir capable of restoring those born paralyzed to full health.”

Rowling’s eyes lit up. “Uncle Kus, does that mean that if I have enough gold coins, I could buy such a superior potion?” As he spoke, his heart pounded violently in his chest.

But Kus shook his head. “In my time, alchemists who could create such advanced elixirs had already vanished. Whether a grandmaster of that level exists a thousand years later is unknown. Even if one does, the price of such a potion would be astronomical. You might not manage to gather enough gold even after twenty or thirty years.”

Twenty or thirty years? Rowling could hardly imagine the cruelty of his brother spending decades confined to a wheelchair. His youth would fade away, and even if his legs were healed by then, his dreams and ambitions would likely have withered.

“Uncle Kus, then what’s the point of telling me all this?” Rowling asked in disappointment.

A sly, mocking smile flickered across Kus’s gaunt face, making him appear even more sinister. “Boy, I would never speak useless words. During my training in the Maya Mountains, I stumbled upon an ancient ruin. After much investigation, I finally uncovered the identity of its owner. Guess, who do you think the master of that ruin was?” Kus deliberately paused, keeping Rowling in suspense.

Rowling’s eyes darted as he pondered, and suddenly his face brightened. “Could it be... an alchemist?”

Kus nodded approvingly. “Not just an alchemist, but a grandmaster-level potion alchemist!”

Rowling’s heart blazed with hope—a grandmaster potion alchemist! That meant he might be able to create an elixir to cure little Hawk’s legs. “Wait, but it’s called a ruin, so that alchemist must be long dead. How could he still make potions?”

“As far as I know, before his demise, that predecessor set a formidable mechanism to protect his relic. Even with my strength as a Sanctuary Magister at the time, I couldn’t force it open. However, he left a safe passage for his ‘future apprentice’ to enter.”

“Uncle Kus, you mean...” Rowling’s heart was pounding violently; he was beginning to guess where this was leading.

“Exactly. You meet that predecessor’s requirements and can enter his ruin!”

Rowling took a deep breath to steady himself and voiced his doubt. “Uncle Kus, I imagine the criteria for his future disciple were strict. But with your abilities as a Sanctuary Magister, you should have found a candidate if you’d tried. Why has it taken so long?”

Kus nodded, inwardly impressed by the ten-year-old before him who, even after hearing such a weighty secret, remained clear-headed enough to ask such a pointed question.

“You’re right. I became deeply interested in that predecessor’s ruin and began searching for a suitable candidate after my time in the Maya Mountains. But then a great upheaval swept the continent. I lost my physical body in that event, and if not for this ‘white stone,’ my soul would have long since faded into nothing.” At this, Kus seemed a little desolate.

“Uncle Kus, don’t be too discouraged. Perhaps you’ll recover your body one day,” Rowling offered, trying to comfort him.

“Heh, save your breath. If I could regain my body, would I have languished inside this white stone for over a thousand years?” Kus gave a bitter laugh. “By the way, Uncle Kus, when can I enter the Maya Mountains and unlock that predecessor’s ruin?” Rowling asked, finally voicing the question that burned most in his heart.

Kus sighed. “The Maya Mountains are the most perilous place on the continent. Even with my guidance along a safer path, you’ll need to reach at least third-rank mage to attempt it.”

“A third-rank mage? How long would that take?”

Kus stroked his chin thoughtfully before answering, “With your exceptional elemental affinity, it should take about four or five years. But with my guidance and your willingness to work hard, you could shorten that by more than a year!”

“Uncle Kus, you’re willing to teach me?” Rowling asked, delighted.

“Since I can’t leave you anyway, and there’s nothing else to do, I might as well instruct you.”

“Thank you, Uncle Kus! You’re a truly good person!” To be personally taught by a Sanctuary Magister was a dream come true.

“Good person...” Kus looked at the elated Rowling and fell silent. In all his life, it was perhaps the first time anyone had called him kind.

After wandering the town with his brother for quite some time, Rowling finally returned home.

That evening, the family talked late into the night. Only at dawn did Rowling doze off, but he was soon roused by his father, Gregil, for he was to gather at the church and depart for the academy.

Before leaving, Rowling took ten gold coins out of the purse Uncle Alva had given him the day before, leaving the remaining twenty at home. His parents were reluctant to accept them, arguing that one must be well-funded when away from home, but Rowling insisted until they finally agreed.

The early spring morning was still chilly. Rowling blew warm air on his hands and rubbed them together. “Father, Mother, little Hawk, we’re at the church. You’d better head back. It’s cold—don’t catch a chill.”

“I’m not cold at all, Brother. I want to see you off.” Though only seven, little Hawk hadn’t slept in, but had risen early to say goodbye.

“Rowling, you’re here early.” While the family spoke, Karina arrived at the church square with her father, Morey. A servant led a small horse behind them.

“Karina, Uncle Morey, we just got here as well,” Rowling greeted them.

The two families soon began chatting cheerfully. As more people gathered in the square, Rowling was surprised to see his Uncle Alva had come to see him off as well.

A little later, young Master Merle also arrived, but looked uneasy as he passed Rowling’s group.

“Merle, thank you for the hundred gold coins yesterday!” Rowling suddenly called out.

Merle’s face flushed bright red. Just as he was about to say something sharp, Rowling continued, “I mean it, Master Merle. Without your hundred gold coins, I might not have been able to take the test yesterday. Don’t worry—I’ll pay you back when I can.”

“Uh, it’s nothing, Rowling. To be honest, I gave you the gold yesterday hoping to embarrass you... I’m sorry for everything—I hope you can forgive me.”

After a few words, the animosity between Rowling and Merle seemed to vanish. Rowling had done it for his family; he was leaving, but his parents and brother would remain in town, and he wanted to leave them peace.

With their reconciliation, Merle’s family also approached and greeted Rowling’s parents warmly—something that would have been unthinkable before.

Creak—the church doors opened and several teachers emerged. Harvey and the other two teachers from Potter Academy greeted Rowling and Karina, then mounted their horses and took the lead.

“I forgot to buy a horse for young Rowling yesterday,” Gregil lamented, smacking his forehead.

“Don’t worry, old Gregil, I’ll send a servant to fetch one from home,” Morey offered.

Rowling’s family was at a loss for words—Morey had already brought them food yesterday and now insisted on providing a horse.

Just as Rowling was about to thank Morey, he suddenly felt himself lifted from behind and set down softly. To his astonishment, he found himself seated on the back of a donkey. The donkey turned its large head and grinned at him, showing its teeth.

“Little Black, you...” Before he could finish, a green-glowing orb rose from the donkey’s head, floating before him.

Kus’s voice rang out in surprise, “It’s its magic core! Rowling, hurry—drip your blood and complete the soul contract with the magic core!”