Morning arrives, and the city awakens beneath the soft golden rays filtering through the towering palm trees. The wind carries the scent of dust and cinnamon, mingling with the faint mist rising from the great river that cuts through the city. The river, heavy with silt, bears the murky brown hue of soil washed away from distant highlands, as if it carries untold stories from the lands it has traveled through.
Zihao sits beneath a large tree, where long, slender leaves drape down like gentle green curtains, shielding him from the intensifying sunlight. In his hand, he holds a pristine white paper fan, while the tip of his calligraphy brush is soaked in deep black ink, dark as the midnight sky.
Slowly, he lifts his wrist, letting the brush glide smoothly across the fan's surface.
Ink merges with paper, spreading like wisps of smoke dissolving into the air.
The first strokes take form—bold yet fluid, structured yet free.
But Zihao does not rush. He lets his mind drift along with the river before him, allowing the rhythm of nature to guide his hand.
The river.It flows, never stopping.
Its murky waters surge forward, an unwearied traveler—unconcerned with the past, unconcerned with the future.
It carries silt, fragments of time, traces of rain from distant lands.
The river is like an old storyteller, whispering forgotten tales in the sound of waves against the shore—but it is also a wanderer, never once looking back.
Zihao wonders—am I like the river?
A drifter, carried from place to place, swept along by the world's currents, never knowing where to rest?
Or am I merely a small stream, dissolving into the vast river of fate, unable to carve my own path?
The trees.
How long has this tree stood here, watching the world change?
Zihao looks up at the interwoven canopy, filtering the harsh sunlight into a gentle shade, soft as a mother's embrace.
The leaves sway in the wind, painting invisible calligraphy across the endless blue sky.
Trees do not speak, yet they always remain—steadfast but humble, strong without boasting.
Perhaps they understand that they do not need to move to prove they exist.
Unlike the river, always drifting away.Unlike me, always chasing after something unseen.
The brush glides over the fan once more, deepening each stroke.
Today, Zihao does not rush.
He lets himself blend into nature, his thoughts drifting like the gentle ripples on the river's surface.
Perhaps not everything needs an answer right away.Perhaps simply existing—like the river, like the tree—is enough.
Under the shade of the tree, I lean back, resting my head against the rough bark, letting my soul drift with the morning breeze. The ink on the fan dries, and the characters I have just painted faintly reflect under the gentle sunlight of dawn.
A heavy footstep echoes on the sandy path. I do not need to turn around to know who it is.
— "Not at the bakery?"
Joon-soo drops himself onto the grass, stretching like a lazy tiger.
— "Left it to the staff."
I smile slightly, my eyes still fixed on the vast blue sky above.
— "You actually have a day off? But why did you start a bakery in the first place?"
Joon-soo lets out a deep, amused laugh that resonates in the quiet space.
— "A noble holds the ownership for me."
I close my eyes as a light breeze sweeps through, carrying the damp scent of the murky brown river. A name surfaces in my mind, as if I have just tugged on an invisible thread in the web of fate.
— "Zara?"
Joon-soo scoffs, not bothering to hide it.
— "Yeah, Zara."
I ponder. Zara of the city of Tarif. Zara of Rahman Al-Khouri's territory.
— "Are you sure she's not part of the Sapphic Cult?"
Joon-soo clicks his tongue, plucking a blade of grass and twirling it between his fingers.
— "Rahman Al-Khouri wasn't always a unified territory. It used to be four independent kingdoms: Al-Mu'tasim, Qusayr, Dhamar, and Jabal-Al-Kabir. When Zara was not even sixteen, the region plunged into chaos due to water and food shortages. The other three kingdoms weakened over time. And then, in just seven years, Zara led an invasion and unified the entire land. It has been four years since the conquest ended, and Al-Khouri is actively recovering from the war."
I raise an eyebrow.
— "Sixteen?"
— "Yeah. Not only that, she purged every noble who ever kept or indulged in male slaves. Apparently, it stems from her hatred toward homosexuality and queer people in general. She's not the type to tolerate anything that contradicts her beliefs."
— "So, she's anti-LGBT?"
Joon-soo shrugs.
— "Given the old Islamic beliefs in the region, it's not surprising."
I nod silently. I do not care about such things—morality, rights, personal freedoms... they are all tools. The only thing worth concerning oneself with is power.
— "If that's the case..." I say quietly, looking at Joon-soo with sharp eyes. "Can we form an alliance with her?"
Joon-soo smirks.
— "What do you have to offer?"
I remain silent.
Zara is not someone easily swayed. A young noble, an exceptional strategist, ruling a vast territory, rich in resources... What do I have that could interest her?
Suddenly, a thought strikes me.
— "Aldo."
Joon-soo narrows his eyes.
— "Aldo?"
— "Back when he was a slave, he collected many artifact fragments from dungeons. Those artifacts might be the key to securing Zara's support."
Joon-soo crosses his arms, clicking his tongue.
— "Those artifacts belong to Aldo. Do you think he'll just hand them over to you?"
I smirk, my gaze locking onto his.
— "Then, can you convince Aldo?"
— "Hah, why should it be me?"
— "Because I don't think you can."
Joon-soo immediately bolts upright, his face reddening with anger.
— "What did you just say?"
I feign a sigh.
— "If even this is beyond you, then..."
— "Hah, listen here, Zihao." Joon-soo growls, his eyes blazing. "I'll convince Aldo to hand over those artifacts in just three sentences. Then we'll see what you have to say!"
With that, he spins on his heels and storms off, his footsteps heavy against the ground.
I watch him go, the corner of my lips curving slightly.
The wind blows again—gentle, invisible, but undeniable.
Everything will fall into place.
Aldo sits cross-legged on the floor, the dim light from the oil lamp on the table casting flickering shadows across his face and onto the cold stone surface. He focuses intently on the numbers in the documents before him, cross-referencing them with previous experimental results. Enzyme purity, extraction efficiency, filtration speed, raw material consumption—all are critical parameters that determine the production line's effectiveness.
Nearby, Helene is engrossed in her technical drawings. She never takes her eyes off the parchment, her fingers moving swiftly as sharp charcoal strokes carve intricate details of her design into the paper. Every movement is precise, and each component is calculated with meticulous care.
Her blueprint strictly follows mechanical standards:
Detailed drawings: Depicting the structure of each individual component, from the grinder's crushing blades to the centrifugal fan in the drying machine.
Assembly drawings: Showing how the components connect and function together.
Standard notations: Centerlines, nominal dimensions, surface roughness, assembly tolerances...
Material and machining specifications: Hardness, durability, and load-bearing requirements for each part.
Helene is so absorbed in her work that she loses track of time, completely unaware of Veritas' eyes fixed on her blueprint.
Veritas, despite being unfamiliar with mechanical engineering conventions, tries to decipher the drawings by focusing on the technical specifications and material requirements.
— "How much force does the grinder's main shaft need to withstand?" he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the fine print along the page's edge.
Helene glances briefly at him before returning to her drawing.
— "Around 1200 MPa, including the safety factor."
Veritas flips to the next page, pausing at the specifications for the grinder:
Crushing blade hardness: Minimum 58 HRC to prevent wear.
Blade rotation speed: 2500 RPM.
Motor power: 7.5 kW.
Maximum grinding capacity: 5 kg of raw material per minute.
He tries to visualize the mechanism based on these figures, but the technical jargon makes him furrow his brows.
Meanwhile, Helene is designing the centrifugal system, a key component in separating enzymes from the solution.
— "Can the drive system for the rotating shaft use a belt or gears?" Aldo asks without looking up from his documents.
Helene nods slightly.
— "Gears are more durable. I designed the shaft to reach a maximum speed of 5000 RPM, so the bearings must withstand significant centrifugal force."
Centrifuge Structure:
Rotating drum: Holds the enzyme containers.Drive system: Enables high-speed rotation.Shock absorption system: Reduces vibration during operation.Liquid drainage system: Extracts purified enzymes from impurities.
Helene doesn't pause, her hand moving steadily as she sketches the sedimentation and filtration tanks, a crucial step in achieving the highest enzyme purity before moving on to the drying phase.
— "How many filtration layers will there be?" Aldo asks, still focused on the documents.
— "Three: sand layer, activated carbon layer, microfiltration membrane."
Aldo nods in approval, flipping to the design of the spray dryer, the final piece of equipment transforming liquid enzymes into dry powder.
— "What's the nozzle diameter?" Veritas asks, curiosity lacing his tone.
— "Around 0.5 mm, to produce fine enzyme particles."
Suddenly, the door bursts open.
— "Aldo! I need your artifact."
Everyone turns their heads. Joon-soo stands at the entrance, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp eyes radiating confidence.
His heavy footsteps echo as he strides into the room, his keen gaze scanning the items spread before Aldo.
— "Aldo, I need your artifact."
Aldo doesn't even look up, merely pointing toward the corner of the room, where a heap of **fragments—broken remains of magical artifacts—**is piled. Some still faintly radiate magical energy, while others are nothing but worthless remnants.
— "Most of them are just fragments or broken items," Aldo says calmly. "But a few are still functional, and only a handful are truly valuable."
He scans the artifacts before selecting five noteworthy ones:
Bloodspear – A spear once wielded by a cursed knight. Its blade, soaked in demonic blood, grants it the ability to absorb the life force of its enemies.
Bloopspear (The Spiral Spear) – A weapon forged by the elves, designed specifically to counter the Bone Collector, a lich infamous for kidnapping children and livestock to harvest their bones for dark magic.
Azure Dragon Scale Armor – A suit of armor crafted from the scales of a blue dragon, offering high resistance against magic and fire.
Tombstone of the Straw King – A mysterious gravestone made of straw, inscribed with the tale of a legendary ruler known only as the 'Straw King'.
Eternal Maiden's Blood Vial – A vial containing the arterial blood of a nymph, slain by Mikhland hunters. The blood possesses extraordinary regenerative properties.
Joon-soo stares intently at the artifacts, his eyes gleaming with interest as he fires off a barrage of questions.
"Bloodspear… from which dungeon expedition?"
"Dungeon 14."
"Its history?"
"It belonged to a knight who fought against demons. In a desperate battle, he let demon blood soak into the spearhead so he could keep fighting, but that also cursed him."
"Effects in combat?"
"It absorbs vitality from enemies, enhancing the user's strength."
"And outside of combat?"
"No practical use—unless you want a wireless blood transfusion tube."
Joon-soo bursts out laughing before moving on to Bloopspear.
"Which dungeon?"
"Dungeon 27."
"Origin?"
"The elves forged it to destroy the Bone Collector—a lich with a habit of kidnapping children and livestock, then stripping their bones for dark magic rituals."
"Effects?"
"Deals immense damage to undead and weakens their regeneration."
"Uses outside of combat?"
"You can use it to stake undead corpses."
Joon-soo continues interrogating each artifact. When he reaches the final question, he stares at Aldo.
Joon-soo fixes his gaze on the two remaining items on the table, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. He turns to Aldo, his voice filled with excitement:
"This armor… It's made from green dragon scales, right? Which dungeon did you find it in?"
Aldo nods, his voice calm:
"Dungeon 29, a monster nest deep in the rainforest. More precisely, from the corpse of a Green Draken. It's not a pure dragon, but it still had an immense amount of mana."
Joon-soo raises an eyebrow:
"Wait, you took it from its corpse? So that thing was already dead?"
Aldo shrugs:
"Yeah, when I got there, it was already dead. There were signs of a massive battle—blood, scorch marks from magic, and even claw marks from another creature. My guess? Internal conflict between them."
Joon-soo clicks his tongue:
"What a waste. If you had hunted a live one, the material's value would be much higher."
Aldo shakes his head:
"Not really. Its scales only harden completely after the body loses all its life force. When it's alive, the scales are still soft and flexible—not at their maximum durability."
Joon-soo nods slowly, his eyes showing newfound understanding.
"What are its properties?"
Aldo gestures at the armor:
"High-level fire resistance, reduces impact from slashes and thrusts, and most notably, grants immunity to mid-tier toxins. Outside of combat, it retains heat exceptionally well—practically a cold-resistant coat."
Joon-soo claps his hands together:
"Nice! If we ever go to a frozen region, I'll make sure to bring it."
He quickly shifts his attention to the last item—a tombstone… made of straw?
"The Tombstone of the Straw King? What kind of weird name is that?"
Aldo crosses his arms:
"Found in Dungeon 35, an ancient religious ruin deep underground. It was placed at the center of a desolate cathedral, surrounded by hundreds of statues bowing their heads, as if in mourning."
Joon-soo shivers:
"Creepy. Who was the Straw King?"
Aldo replies slowly:
"No one knows his true identity. Legends say he was a benevolent king who ruled over a now-forgotten kingdom. When his nation fell, he didn't flee. Instead, he stood in the burning capital and used straw from the land's last remaining fields to craft his own tombstone."
Joon-soo gapes:
"A tombstone made of straw… and it still exists? It hasn't burned or rotted away?"
Aldo nods:
"That's the special thing. It never decays, can't be burned, and can't be destroyed. Swords, fire, magic—nothing works on it."
Joon-soo gently touches the tombstone, his expression thoughtful:
"So, what's its function?"
Aldo smirks:
"It creates a zone of tranquility. Anyone near it feels calm, losing all hatred and fear. In battle, if placed between two opposing sides, both will pause—at least for a few minutes."
Joon-soo rests his chin on his hand, mumbling:
"That could be useful for negotiations or defensive tactics…"
Aldo adds:
"It also helps people sleep deeply and recover their mental strength faster. I left it in my room overnight once, and when I woke up, I felt incredibly refreshed."
Joon-soo laughs:
"Sounds like a premium pillow!"
Aldo doesn't deny it, simply shrugging. Joon-soo turns to the final item—the **Blood Vessel of the Everlasting Virgin—**and his eyes light up with curiosity once more.
Joon-soo picks up the vessel and gives it a gentle shake. The thick, dark red liquid inside gleams unnaturally, unlike ordinary blood. He raises an eyebrow, looking at Aldo:
"That name is way too dramatic… 'Everlasting Virgin'? Who even comes up with something that sounds like a romantic legend?"
Aldo responds indifferently:"Because it is indeed a romantic legend, but in a way… not romantic at all."
Joon-soo places the bottle down, crosses his arms, and his eyes gleam with interest:"Now I have to hear the whole thing. Where did you find it?"
Aldo speaks slowly:"DungeonForty. An underground dungeon beneath a lake, once a temple dedicated to a goddess of water. After Mikhland's churchravaged it, all the temple guardians were slaughtered, except for one—the Nymph, the protector of the sanctuary."
Joon-soofrowns:"A Nymph? You mean… a water fairy?"
Aldonods:"Yes. Not just an ordinary water fairy, but the guardian of a sacred lake, living for centuries without aging. A literally immortal being."
Joon-sooswallows hard:"Sounds like a powerful character."
Aldosmirks:"Not really. Nymphslack combat abilities. She was hunted down by a group of Mikhland hunters and eventually captured. But since they couldn't kill an immortal being, they came up with a different method—extracting blood from her aortic artery."
Joon-sooshudders:"… This blood is from the aortic artery?"
Aldonods:"Yes. The huntersdrained her continuously for days, as the Nymphnever died. But as her blood was extracted excessively, she gradually lost consciousness and turned into a stone statueat the bottom of the lake. This bottle of blood is the last few drops that remain."
Joon-soosighs:"That's brutal… But what does it do?"
Aldopoints at the liquid inside the bottle:"Whoever drinks a single drop will have their body instantly restored to the best condition within the past twenty-four hours. This means if you are injured, you will heal. If you are exhausted, you will regain energy as if at your peak state."
Joon-soowidens his eyes:"Sounds like… time restoration?"
Aldoshakes his head:"Not time travel, just body synchronization with a previous state. But there's a drawback."
Joon-soonarrows his eyes:"What drawback?"
Aldospeaks slowly:"If you drink it continuously for days, your body will forget how to age. As a result, even if you live for decades, your body remains frozen at the state of the first day you drank it."
Joon-soopauses in silence, then chuckles softly:"So this is why it's called The Everlasting Virgin?"
Aldonods:"Exactly. Someone who keeps drinking this blood can become immortal, but it's not a natural immortality. It's a standing death—the body remains unchanged, but the mind keeps aging."
Joon-soocrosses his arms, deep in thought:"Hmm… So aside from combat, does it have any practical use?"
Aldoshrugs:"It can maintain the health of the elderly, cure terminal illnesses, or if someone needs a healthy body for experiments, this is an extremely valuable material."
Joon-soolaughs:"So basically… a form of an elixir of life, but with the risk of driving someone insane."
— "How much does it cost?"
Aldoshrugs.
— "It's free."
Joon-soofreezes slightly.
— "Free? Are you serious?"
— "Yes."Aldoreplies curtly, offering no explanation.
Joon-soobursts into laughter, claps Aldo on the shoulder, then quickly gathers his belongings before dashing out of the room, looking like a child who just won the lottery.
A moment later—Helene, who still focuses on her design, lifts her head.— "We need ethanol and ammonium sulfate (NH₄)₂SO₄ for the precipitation device."
Aldonods silently.— "Ethanolcan be produced independently. The processis quite simple: purchasegrains from farmers, useamylase enzyme (which our group has in abundance) to break downstarch into sugar, ferment it with yeast from the same grains, then distill it."
He pauses for a moment, then continues:— "Excess ethanolcan be sold as a solvent for perfume, cosmetics, beverages, alcohol, or used as a marinade alongside the enzymes we sell."
Helenenods, then says:— "We shoulddehydrate it to achieveethanolpurity above 95%. If we use an azeotrope with benzene, then—"
Veritasinterjects:— "That methodis too complicated. Usingquicklime (CaO)is much simpler."
He continues his explanation:— "Near the city, seven kilometerswest, there is a limestone mountain that has been mined for over twenty years. We can obtainlimestone, burn it to producequicklime, then use it to dehydrateethanol."
Helenenods in agreement but then frowns.— "What aboutammonium sulfate? Thatis the real problem."
Aldo and Veritasshake their heads.— "Mikhland and this entire world (Terre)lack the technology to produce it."
The threefall into deep thought for a moment. Then, Heleneslowly speaks:— "I willbuy it from Edison Industry."
Veritasraises an eyebrow.— "Edison Industry? Who are they?"
— "A group of former slavesspecializing in industry, but they keep a low profile. At present, they do not yet produceammonium sulfate, but they possess all the necessary materials to make it."
Aldonods.
Veritasremains curious.— "If they have the materials, then howdo they plan to produceammonium sulfate? Do they have the Haber-Bosch process?"
Heleneshakes her head.— "No, they do not useHaber-Bosch. Their ammoniais extracted from coal gas."
Veritasfrowns.— "Whydo they choose that method instead of Haber-Bosch?"
Heleneexplains:— "First, they own several coal mines. Second, the Haber-Bosch processrequireshigh pressure and iron catalysts, while they lack the infrastructure and prioritize their alloy production. Usingcoal gasis simpler—they only need to burncoal in a low-oxygen environment to produce a coal gas mixture, then extractNH₃ from it."
Veritasnods, finally understandingEdison Industry's decision.
Aldoconcludes:— "Then the issue of raw materialsis resolved."
Helenesighs in relief, while Veritassmirks. The groupresumes their work.