35. Golem Synthesis (1)

Yujin’s party stood before the borderlands checkpoint gate.

“Hweuk. Hek.”
“I really thought I was gonna die.”
“S-Senior. Your arm ain’t fallen off?”

Half-dead, the members of [the Scraps] stared at one another with hollow eyes.

Standing behind them, Yujin grumbled even as a holy spell knitted the party’s drained stamina back together.

“You’re laying it on thick. You’ve all still got your arms and legs, haven’t you?”

“It was so much harder without Master Fafnir.”

Kang Minho waved his arm weakly. His shield had been caved in and warped so badly that its original round shape was barely recognizable, less a thing to be repaired than one to be melted down in a furnace and forged anew.

Kang Minyeong wrung out her voice too.

“Bro. Wouldn’t it have been better if you’d at least let those guys help?”

A rank of Armored Skeletons stood lined up behind Yujin, about half of them shouldering several large sacks each. The sacks held mana stones and byproducts harvested from the monsters that had come swarming to the Necropolis; two weeks of felling them without rest had piled up a truly staggering haul.

“I can’t just leave money lying on the ground, can I.”
“That’s true enough.”
“Hey! How can you agree with him there!”

Half the servants had stayed behind to manage the byproducts and mana stones. The remaining ten Armored Skeletons, [the Scraps], and Yujin were the ones who had to carve the path forward.

No crises, but it’s a touch tiring.

This was the borderlands; even a little movement brought them face to face with monsters, one battle after another. Good thing Life Drain restored stamina along with everything else, or it would have taken several more days of fighting and resting in an endless loop.

You enjoy watching other people suffer that much?

I’d rather not. I went to all the trouble of regressing, so I’m going to coast off it; no need to circle back around or invite hardship on myself. From here on, let’s kick back and enjoy the good life.

“You may pass.”

The soldier at the gate, taking in the throng of Armored Skeletons, was only mildly startled and didn’t stop them. They headed straight on to Shin Junseok’s workshop.

“Partner. I’m glad you made it back safe.”

He didn’t even make a fuss at the sight of the skeletons anymore. They say man is a creature of adaptation, and Shin Junseok certainly adapted fast.

Now, now. What’s all this surrender between partners?

Ignoring Kronos’s heckling, Yujin picked up his phone.

“Madam speaking.”
“It’s me.”
“Oh my. Could it be you’re calling from the land of the living, and not the netherworld?”
“That’s a pretty weak joke.”
“I heard you’d crossed over into the borderlands. You came back alive — impressive.”
“You’re well aware the far side of the border is livable enough in its own way, aren’t you?”

Ground Zero faced the borderlands too. That was the very reason the government left a substantial stretch of lawless territory, the old outlet mall included, well alone. In place of paying taxes, the outlaws held the borderlands’ monsters at bay.

A tacit arrangement, you might call it.

While Yujin dredged up memories of the past, the Madam’s voice came through the receiver.

“You sound like you’ve only just gotten back. So what’s the matter?”
“There’s a favor I need.”

He switched to a video call and showed her the byproducts and mana stones heaped up in front of the workshop.

“Sir. There seems to be some misunderstanding…”
“You can do this much as a courtesy, can’t you?”
“Handling byproducts isn’t the Galaxy Pub’s line of work.”
“So you won’t do it?”

A brief silence.

“I’ll send someone.”
“One more favor.”
“Let me hear it before I decide.”
“Take what these byproducts sell for and get me an elixir that raises magic.”
“No preference on type or attribute?”
“None.”
“Understood. I’ll find you a suitable elixir, then.”

— Click.

Cold-hearted, hanging up the second the business was done.

And how would a Constellation understand the human heart well enough to say that?

I’d rather not hear that from a Constellation who ate his own sons to cling to power.

Yujin snorted through his nose and ignored Kronos’s reproach.

He’d handed the byproducts off to the Madam, but plenty of business still remained to be settled.

“You’re sure you don’t need our help?”
“Yeah. I’m fine, so the three of you head to Myeongdong.”
“Myeongdong? Why all of a sudden…”
“The first gate we ever met at. The Garden of Antiquity has a hidden element.”

Yujin explained the conditions for entering the Ancient Proving Ground I.

What’s different?

Back then I didn’t know if they’d turn out to be strangers, but after acting together this much, I can trust them.

These were the future Mirror Hunters. Judging by how the Kang siblings had behaved before the regression, they were worth trusting. Lee Seongmin, who worked alongside them as a teammate, fell short of complete trust, but his unique trait was worth using, so Yujin meant to cultivate him.

Once he’s had a taste of the honey, I doubt he will.

After all, this was a magic lecture delivered in person by a former 9th Stellar Rank, a precious course available nowhere else in the whole world.

If he’s got ears to listen, he’ll grasp how remarkable my lessons are.

He’d taught them the process of rearranging mana, the knack of releasing it, and several other things besides.

I didn’t go so far as to teach them how to draw out their unique traits, but it should be enough.

At the very least, they’d be able to tell whether the rope dangling before them was spun from gold or from rot.

His explanation done, Yujin looked the members of [the Scraps] over.

“Questions?”
“You’re saying the trial’s opponent is a Draconian.”
“It’s restricted to the 2nd Rank in its stats, but it’s a formidable foe all the same.”
“And we have to take it on one-on-one.”
“You won’t die even if you lose the trial.”

There was some relief in not having to stake their lives, though failing would still hurt badly enough to feel like dying.

“You can only enter when the full moon’s up, so go into the gate and scout it out well ahead of time.”

One saving grace was that while the Ancient Proving Ground capped entry at a single person at a time, up to ten could attempt the trial in one day. So as long as they gathered all the materials, the three of them could enter on the same day.

“We’ll be off, then. Boss.”
“See you later. Bro.”
“I’ll be sure to pass the trial and come back!”

[The Scraps] saluted with grim, determined faces and set off for Seoul.

“Ahh. With those guys gone, it’s gotten quiet.”
“You don’t much like the bustle anyway, do you, partner?”
“Well, sometimes it feels a bit empty.”
“Saying things you don’t even mean.”

Yujin gave a faint laugh and perched on a chair. Shin Junseok, seated across the long table from him, spoke up quickly, as though he’d been holding it in all this while.

“Mass production of the Mid-grade Potion is proceeding without a hitch.”
“No problems in the production process?”
“The mixing machine acts up now and then, but that much is trivial.”
“And no investment offers from Arahan or the like?”
“They said they wanted a hand in the factory equipment and the production process too — load of nonsense. I took the investment on condition of handing over only the first production batch.”

Wise. Had he accepted the Arahan Guild’s proposal wholesale, the whole factory might have been signed away down the line. Maybe getting burned once by a big corporation had made him solid on this sort of thing.

Being told a thing and getting burned yourself are two different matters.

Shin Junseok was closer to a collaborator than a comrade. Even before the regression he’d made a name for himself as an alchemist and kept countless apprentices. He wasn’t the sort to follow Yujin’s instructions to the letter; he stood on his own judgment.

There’s a limit to how much I can coach him.

I don’t see what’s so amusing about it.

Letting Kronos’s odd remark slide, Yujin turned his attention back to the conversation with Shin Junseok.

“Did you get everything I mentioned?”
“Yes. Apart from the Arachne’s thread and the mana engine, it was all easy enough to come by.”
“Then we can start the work right away.”

Before Yujin had even finished speaking, Shin Junseok’s nostrils flared to twice their size.

“F-finally!!!”
“There’s a great deal I’ll need you to do.”
“Of course. Whatever it is, just say the word!”

Even the knowledge of alchemy he’d gained on reaching 2nd Rank was only the barest fraction of the whole. As with the Eldritch Dragon, without Shin Junseok’s help he couldn’t so much as attempt Golem Synthesis.

A golem isn’t something you just complete with a snap of magic.

A golem was a creation that drew together every technique of alchemy. Carving the mana circuit line by line was only the basics; synthesis, herb compounding, mana forming, and a host of other elements all went into it. Even from the very same materials, the result varied enormously with the alchemist’s craft.

I’m looking forward to it. A golem made together with the future Grand Alchemist.

The two of them moved over to an empty lot near the workshop.

The corpse of the Masked Demon-Beast lay sprawled across the broad stretch of ground. It had been embalmed, but there was no keeping the flies off, and part of it had rotted.

“Uuugh. My apologies. I did try to manage it as best I could.”
“For two weeks gone by, this is excellent.”

Yujin laid his hand on the corpse of the Masked Demon-Beast.

— Sssssss!

A whitish energy seeped in through the point of contact and circulated through the whole rotted-in-places body. The decayed parts were drawn out, and the vermin that had taken up residence in the corpse were driven off as well.

A bit different. I’m not making undead this time.

This was nothing like the time he’d carved a mana circuit into the Draconian corpse. He restored the dead thing to its purest possible form, then halted the flow of spirit-power.

“Bring the materials.”
“Yes.”

Shin Junseok carried the alchemy materials he’d ordered in advance over to the lot.

“You’d do well to set up the cylinder and the Witch’s Cauldron too. To cut down on the legwork.”
“Understood.”

While the alchemy setup was being finished, Yujin examined the quality of the materials one by one.

As expected of Shin Junseok. He’s stocked up some fine goods.

The state of the catalysts was another factor that decided an alchemy’s success or failure. From culling the materials to managing them, Shin Junseok had been thorough, tuning every element to its peak condition.

“Partner. I have one question.”
“You’re curious why the golem’s medium is a corpse, right?”
“Do you read minds or something?”
“No. I figured you’d be asking that about now, so I said it first.”

A golem was an artificial life-form created through alchemy, its very nature determined by the ‘medium’ it was first shaped from. Shaped from rock, it became a Rock Golem; from iron, an Iron Golem; from the whole sum of magitech, something like the Gigant Golem. A golem couldn’t be pinned down as any single thing; there were all sorts.

“With a corpse this enormous, undead would turn a better profit — so why a golem? That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?”
“It’s embarrassing, but yes. I couldn’t make out your thinking, partner.”
“Well, you’re half right. What I’m going to make is something that straddles both undead and golem.”

What Yujin meant to make was a secret-art golem passed down among Necromancers.

“A Blood Golem.”
“…Blood, you mean?”
“That’s right. The golem I’m going to make is one that takes blood as its own body.”

Blood is the currency of life. So say the Necromancers, who ply a trade defying death, and the vampires who toy with life itself.

“A golem that takes blood — the very essence of life — for its body. Doesn’t it make you curious what it’ll look like?”

I doubt that.

A golem that took blood itself for its medium ran counter to the very mechanism of an ordinary one. Carving a mana circuit into a liquid that wouldn’t sit still, that kept trying to flow away? No alchemist alive could resist it.

“I’m incredibly excited!!!!”

The pocket watch trembled hard. Contradicted flat the moment the words left his mouth, Kronos must have been quite put out.

Why don’t you just sit quietly and watch, oh Incompetent Constellation.

A shut mouth catches no flies. Yujin rubbed his hands together, swallowed a laugh, and, calling to mind the knowledge he’d amassed before the regression, gave the order for the next task.