Chapter Forty-Two: The Potion of Allure (Part Two)

Three days later, Gong Hao presented his research report to Heinz.

The problem regarding the soul strength of flesh puppets had ultimately been broken down into two parts. While it appeared unfinished, the difficulty of each separated task was far less than when they were combined. It was much like a division problem: splitting a 9 into two 3s made things significantly easier.

“So, you acknowledge my analysis?” he asked.

“That’s right, you’re absolutely correct. Theoretically speaking, this is entirely feasible.”

Of course it’s feasible, I’ve succeeded several nights in a row already, Gong Hao thought to himself.

Heinz continued, “Now, it’s just a matter of time. If all goes well, in at most one or two years, we’ll resolve all the issues with the flesh puppets. The technology isn’t especially complicated; it just needs some time. I think it would be best to assign this to Andrew.”

The old man began to pace excitedly, deep in thought as if wrestling with a significant problem.

After a long pause, he finally asked, “Grael, are you familiar with the Ogre God?”

“Yes, Master. I doubt there’s anyone who hasn’t heard of it.”

“Then do you know there’s also an Ogre God on Purgatory Island?”

“Once, during a conversation with Lord Andrew, he happened to mention it.”

“Oh, that fellow’s never been good at keeping his mouth shut. But it doesn’t matter now, Grael, because I intend to tell you about this myself.”

Heinz gestured for Gong Hao to sit beside him. “The Ogre God’s construction is actually quite similar to that of the flesh puppets, but with crucial differences. It’s stronger, more violent, and far harder to control, making its mastery extremely difficult. Your breakthrough with the flesh puppet’s creation will be of great help to me in the research of the Ogre God. That’s why I want you to join the project. Grael, you are a true genius. You’ve already given me many miracles and surprises, and I believe you’ll bring me even more.”

Gong Hao bowed to Heinz. “Master, I am deeply grateful for your care and trust. However, I regret that I may not be able to contribute much to the research of the Ogre God.”

“Why?” Heinz was puzzled.

“From what I know of the Ogre God, aside from the challenge of crafting the soul orb, the main difficulty lies in how to control it effectively. Developing such control techniques is precisely where an alchemist’s experience is put to the test. Experiments are prone to accidents, and only an experienced alchemist can react instantly, minimizing negative outcomes. Especially with something as formidable as the Ogre God, any mistake would have dire consequences. For an apprentice, experience is exactly what I lack. Solving the mysteries of the flesh puppet’s creation required new ideas—an apprentice might be able to compensate for shortcomings with imagination and diligent study. But the control of the Ogre God demands the rich experience of a master alchemist. That cannot be replaced by effort or wild inspiration alone. Therefore, I don’t believe I can be of much help in this area; after all, experience and foundational knowledge are irreplaceable.”

Heinz nodded. “You’re right, my child. You’re not only clever, but clear-headed as well. To recognize your strengths and shortcomings so clearly is rare. Despite your prodigious talent, you do still lack experience in alchemy. Perhaps involving you in the Ogre God’s research really would be a waste of your gifts. So tell me, where do you think you could make the most outstanding contribution?”

“The sages once said, ‘When you can’t move forward on an old path, perhaps it’s time to try a new one.’ Some things require experience to accomplish, but sometimes, what’s needed is not experience but the ability to forge new paths. I believe I’m suited to pursuing breakthroughs where new directions are needed.”

“Well said.” Heinz closed his eyes in contemplation for a moment. “Purgatory Island has always lagged in achievements in spatial magic. I think I’ll assign you to that area. Grael, do you remember the spatial ring I showed you the first time we met?”

“Yes, Master. I’ll never forget that day, for it was when I first met my great mentor.”

Heinz chuckled. “In the field of alchemy related to spatial magic, the three most valuable branches are storage items, teleportation arrays, and long-distance communication. All three fall under spatial magic, but our accomplishments in this area are limited. If you’d like, dedicate yourself to this field.”

“Yes, Master. May I ask, are these studies also related to Electra?”

“No.” Heinz shook his head immediately. “It’s true Electra conducted experiments in this area, but unfortunately, we never acquired any materials from those studies. The Lance Empire has just a single notebook of Electra’s, and it’s almost entirely about magical constructs. That is our greatest regret. So you’ll have to conduct your experiments based on my own research.”

“I understand, Master.”

With this new assignment, Gong Hao knew he would devote himself fully to the study of spatial magic in the days ahead. If he could not solve the problem of the teleportation array, his only way off Purgatory Island would be to build a raft again.

He had destroyed the previous raft for safety not long after Fink’s death.

Life settled into a simple and monotonous rhythm.

Isadora became Gong Hao’s errand runner, shuttling back and forth between the sixth and ground floors of the Alchemy Tower each day.

Gong Hao ceaselessly brewed potions and experimented with new recipes—potions that had existed in similar forms in his own era, but now, thanks to magic, their effects were far more potent. He also began foundational study and research into spatial magic.

He noticed that Isadora was lingering longer and longer in Pierre’s room.

One time, she stayed there a full two hours, and when she emerged, her face was flushed and she looked flustered.

She said nothing, but it was clear the potion had worked.

Pierre, a pedophilic sadist, had been confined for twenty years, and when confronted with Isadora under the influence of a charm potion, the fire within him erupted like a volcano. His self-control was plummeting rapidly.

Apart from this, Gong Hao made a point to finish his work early each day so he could spend his afternoons with Avril, telling her stories in the evenings.

His mind was a trove of tales, legends, fables, myths, language, and religious parables, enough that he never worried about running out. As Avril listened, she gradually learned about the ways people interact in the vast world. She became more sensible, gentle, and lovable—and more dependent on Gong Hao.

While she waited for him, Avril would pass the time with fireworks.

Each morning, she would set off beautiful fireworks at the harbor, watching them rise and fade, with Gong Hao’s image filling her mind. In those moments, waiting and longing were sweet, and she would often rest her chin in her hands and giggle to herself. The young princess did not know this feeling was called longing; she simply thought it was anticipation for something wonderful.

From that time on, a beautiful spectacle appeared over the always-dark and eerie Sea of Death. The few ships daring to cross would see, at the heart of the mysterious mists, clusters of resplendent firelight illuminating the sky.

They blazed with color, like lanterns offering warmth to sailors on their journey.

They pierced the fog, drove away the darkness, brought light and beauty, and filled travelers with hope.

In this sea steeped in gloom and death, the blooming of those radiant flowers brought profound spiritual solace.

Over time, word of the dazzling fireworks over the Sea of Death spread. Some said it was the goddess of the sea, guiding lost sailors.

Eventually, it became a legend, with many exquisite and moving stories woven around it.

A few months later, the Liberty arrived again.

Bailey brought Gong Hao the soul magic tome he had been waiting for.

That night, Gong Hao opened its pages.

Soul magic, like necromancy, had always been a forbidden art across the continent.

But its forbidden nature was different from necromancy. Necromancy violated the dead, something humanity could not abide. Soul magic, however, required contact with vast amounts of soul energy. Many soul mages became crazed murderers, much like Heinz, who crafted flesh puppets from the living—only soul mages went further, more ruthlessly.

They would kill indiscriminately, sometimes slaughtering many at once, merely to advance their own power.

Soul magic also had a unique property: its attacks completely ignored differences in level or rank.

The only defense was the willpower of the individual. Physical strength, battle aura, or magical power made little difference.

A soul shock spell might leave an ordinary person unharmed, yet instantly kill a powerful mage.

Fortunately, the offensive power of soul magic was generally low, but its various secondary effects were anything but simple. Many became obsessed with soul magic and, as a result, trod a path of slaughter and madness.

The most infamous soul mage in the Lance Empire was Inigo Daemon, a seventh-level golden-robed sorcerer. His wanton killings were notorious; once, he unleashed a mass mind storm spell on a small village, killing half its inhabitants. He became wanted across the continent, known as the Nightmare Mage.

At the time, the Nightmare Mage shamelessly claimed that so many in the village had died simply because their willpower was too weak.

Perhaps because it was forbidden, soul magic lacked large-scale research and so had few varieties or strange offshoots. Its system was thus relatively complete and straightforward, allowing Gong Hao to comprehend it easily. It was nothing like wind magic, where sorting through the countless variations to find the standard forms had nearly driven him mad.

For apprentices, there were only two basic spells in soul magic.

One was called Soul Burn, the other, Soul Shock.

Yet these two spells were precisely what Gong Hao had long sought.

At that moment, he knew Pierre’s end was near.