Sunrise Alchemist, Ch 9: Advancements (Patreon)

A small emerald dragon made of Wood energy flew in circles above Verse’s cauldron. Its scales shone with a mist of spiritual energy that was raining down into the Woodbalm Paste inside. With each drop that fell, a burst of energy exploded through the mixture and made it bubble.

Below the cauldron, a complex layer of emerald flames that resembled both flower petals and dragon scales was slowly rotating, heating it from below.

Verse’s forehead was beaded with sweat as he kept his attention fixed on the cauldron and the two techniques. Using both of them at once like this was a strain for him, since he’d only just learned them.

“Your Thousand Scales of Emerald Flame technique is coming along nicely,” the shrine said as it observed the layers of fire at the bottom of the cauldron. “Five scales is a good start. One day, you’ll get up to 99 or even 999. Each one allows you to control that section of heat independently. This skill used to be one of the ways an alchemist was ranked.

“Your Emerald Rain Dragon isn’t bad either,” the shrine continued, “but it needs more spirituality to really bring out the Wood aspect. Right now, it’s just raining Wood energy into the cauldron rather than blessing it. You need to break through to the Touch of the Dao with Wood and make it really come to life.”

Verse nodded as he continued to mix the paste. He was no longer using a stick, but rather a flow of diffuse Fire energy that helped to make the liquid flow evenly. It was part of the Thousand Scales technique and technically one of the layers, which was less disruptive to the medicine than the stick, but he had to make sure not to fuse any excess energy into it.

A month had passed since he started studying these techniques. So far, the result was a large pile of low-quality paste, but he had just reached a basic level of proficiency in both of them. If this attempt worked, it would be the first time he made a medium-quality one.

The quality was a good way of marking his progress, but it was still only a beginning. Alchemy relied far more on developing the right techniques for each herb than he’d ever imagined.

He’d been working steadily on this recipe and his core techniques, but his stock of Verdant Leaf and Spiritual Dew was beginning to run low, so he’d have to go out and resupply soon. He pushed the thought to the side as he gave all of his attention to the final steps of the process.

After a few minutes, the emerald dragon tucked its wings and dove into the cauldron, dispersing its energy in a rain that made the entire cauldron bubble as it reached the peak. The infused Wood energy was like a sudden spring boiling up from the inside, scenting the air with green herbs and vitality.

He continued to stir the mixture as he focused on the Thousand Scales technique, slowly reducing the heat. One of the advantages of this technique was that he could move the scales around, concentrating the flame in specific areas or dispersing it. Right now, he pulled the scales apart and let more air flow between them.

The heat dropped and the liquid condensed as it cooled, slowly turning into a paste.

He could sense that the spiritual energy in it was stronger than usual, but he held back his excitement. This wasn’t the first time he’d reached this point. The key factor was in controlling the mixture to the end. He couldn’t let excitement make him rush.

He continued to reduce the flames, letting the paste set. When it finally did, he studied the result. After a moment, a low laugh sounded out in the courtyard. The surface of the paste looked like a river with a thousand ripples across its surface. They were the result of the way he’d mixed the Wood and Fire energy in. They also marked that it had reached medium quality.

“Success,” he said as he let himself grin. “It’s surprising how much more control those two techniques give me.”

“Just wait until you see a real master at work,” the shrine said. “I have a few memories I can share with you, but it’s not the same as seeing it for yourself. You should probably visit one of the alchemy competitions in town and see what you can pick up from watching others. They won’t be dragons, but every alchemist has their strong points.”

“I’m itching to experiment with these two techniques in a fight,” Verse said. “They aren’t designed for combat, but I feel like I can turn them into battle techniques without too much trouble.”

He already had Ice Dragon’s Scales as a shield technique and the Thousand Scales of Emerald Flame showed him a way to use Fire for something similar. He just needed to make it bigger. Since it was designed to focus heat, it wouldn’t have to be a defensive tactic. He could use it as a shield with the heat focused outward, or as a trap to incinerate an enemy if he reversed it.

The Emerald Rain Dragon also gave him an idea for how to manipulate energy to attack. He had his Crimson Sunset Pillars and Piercing Rain, which could both rain from the sky, but this technique was much more intricate.

Alchemy was making a thousand ideas run through his mind as he tested and tried new things, and many of them weren’t related to cauldrons or medicines.

“Many alchemists have been skilled mages,” the shrine agreed. “The same ability that lends to fine control over alchemy techniques works for spells in battle. If they are adept in controlling the shifts in energy for a cauldron, they are also often good at controlling a fight. Just remember to keep your focus on the enemy and not how their spells work.”

“I’ll take a mission soon and test it out,” Verse said as he began cleaning up the leftover materials from this batch. “It’ll be a good chance to stretch my legs after sitting here. Plus, I want to gather some beast cores and other resources. If they aren’t good for alchemy or my cultivation, I can use them to buy more herbs.”

“Just remember to be cautious of the local alchemists and the alchemy sects,” the shrine said. “Based on what we’ve learned over the past couple of weeks, they make a habit of trying to rope in foreign alchemists and learn their secrets.”

“I’ve been thinking about what to do,” Verse said with a nod. The shrine was right, so he needed to be cautious with showing off his recipes. He’d made some small inquiries about selling the paste already, and the response had been far stronger than he’d expected.

Initially, he’d thought he would be able to sell it and not get too much attention, since it was only a basic healing salve, but he’d underestimated how obsessed Boreas was with alchemy recipes. No matter where he went, as soon as he mentioned a new recipe, peoples' eyes lit up like stars.

The same thing had happened at the auction house when he checked with an appraiser to make sure the recipe was unknown. He hadn't given them the recipe, but describing its effects was enough for them to decide that it was new and worthy of attention. It wasn't a very advanced recipe, but that didn't matter.

Novelty drew eyes all on its own.

The paste was decent in that there was no harm in applying too much of it and it had no harmful residue. The same could not be said for other healing products. Low quality pills tended to leave a mess of impurities behind from poor refinement techniques.

It was commonly called pill residue or pill toxicity. It was one of the reasons that people didn't take too many pills at once, as well as why continued use of the same pill could result in a weaker effect. For his paste to be free of it was a good thing for potential sales.

Even if he needed to be cautious, he was looking forward to that. It would give him some funds and a chance to get in touch with the Alchemists’ Guild. Then he could gather more information about the local market and public demonstrations. Boreas was famous for its alchemy competitions and spectating was a time-honored tradition for the locals. That would let him see how the empire did alchemy.

With a flick of his hand, he brought out a few jade boxes before he scooped the Woodbalm Paste into them and put them away in his spatial ring. For now, he would keep the medium-quality version to himself. He wanted to sell off the low-quality ones first. Otherwise, the price for them would drop.

These two techniques and all the recent practice had made him realize just how rough his initial control was. He’d been lucky in making the paste the second time around, since he’d basically just been smashing things together with some energy and heat. For anything better than low quality, that sort of tactic was doomed to failure.

Alchemy wasn’t the same as boiling a pot of water.

The techniques he was using existed for a reason. They might seem complicated if you didn’t understand, but they were a form of skill and knowledge combined together, a method that was designed to stimulate the medicinal properties of the herbs and bring out the right qualities.

For example, the Wood infusion needed to merge in a particular cadence and at a set interval with the Verdant Leaf and Spiritual Dew, so that the nature of those two herbs would combine. One was Wood aligned and the other was Water, and the Emerald Rain Dragon helped to bring them together. It was a combination of Wood and Water that gathered the spiritual energy and merged them, while also making the mixture boil.

Similarly, the Thousand Scales technique used Fire to stimulate the potential in the herbs to their peak state and added an additional layer of energy to create a medicine that was greater than the original sum of the parts. With a gradual application, it left the herbs full of energy and right at the edge of breaking down, so that they would begin working instantly when they were applied.

The techniques looked ornate, but that was because they had passed through the hands of one skilled alchemist after another through the ages. Each of them had added their own flourishes, turning them into artistic expressions of a heritage. To anyone who understood, the techniques showed what school he was from, who he had learned from, and more. They were signature skills.

Alchemy was similar to cooking in a certain way, where you had to be careful to grill a steak just right or you’d ruin the flavor, except that in alchemy you were cooking each corner of the steak a different way and trying to leave the center still raw.

Then you had to add the separate seasonings, divide the steak into a dozen filets, stack the filets on top of each other in order of how well done they were by flipping the entire grill into the air with one hand, paint ten layers of seasonings on the outside with a quick artistic touch, and then finally skewer them all on a stick that was exactly the right temperature to keep them warm and was charred to a different level for each filet.

All while maximizing the flavor and making it look pretty.

He laughed at the thought as he let the cauldron dissipate into emerald mist. It wasn’t wrong, but his cooking metaphor was getting a bit out of hand, so now that he was finished with this batch, he should probably go get something to eat.

Steak sounded good.

There was a small restaurant not far from his house that served a good selection of wine and grilled meats, all infused with the local abundance of spiritual herbs. They also had a nice arrangement of sauces to dip the slices of meat in. He’d taken to eating there a couple of nights a week, and he’d been thinking about it just now while building his comparison.

With thoughts of food on his mind, he dusted off his robes. Leaf quickly leapt up from where he was sleeping and curled around his neck as he headed for the entrance.

He’d thought the elemental would be bored in the courtyard, but Leaf had taken to watching him with great curiosity, his head tilted as he studied what Verse was doing. It turned out that he was fascinated by alchemy. His green eyes rarely left the cauldron as he watched the Wood energies mixing.

When he wasn’t observing, he fell asleep while releasing a low and resonant hum that was similar to a purr. As it passed over the herbs in the courtyard, they looked healthier and filled with vitality.

Verse scratched the elemental’s head as he closed the door behind him and headed out onto the street. The Residential Quarter was quiet at this time of the evening. Most of his neighbors were having dinner or out in the city.

As he walked to the restaurant, he considered what he’d learned about the state of alchemy in Boreas and the empire in general over the last month. Besides practicing, he’d spent a lot of time gathering information, since before he started selling anything, he wanted to know what he was dealing with and what to avoid.

The main thing he needed to decide was how much to reveal about his recipes and how much attention he wanted. His initial questions showed that alchemy was practically a religion in Boreas, so there was no doubt that he would get some eyes on him as soon as he showed off a new product.

It was possible to hide everything and not sell his work, but a sense of pride in his veins refused to allow it. He had come to Boreas to practice with alchemy. He wasn’t going to hide like a coward in the shadows.

The waitress at the restaurant flashed him a quick smile as she found him an empty table and took his order. Before long, plates of steaming grilled meat, a dozen different sauces from spicy to sweet, and a selection of savory herb pastries were arranged across the table. The waitress had barely turned around before Leaf leapt off his shoulder and swiped a pastry.

“That whole plate is for you, if you want it,” Verse said with a chuckle. “I ordered it for you.”

Leaf gave him a side-eye frown as he looked between Verse and the plate. Then he let out a quiet snort.

“What, it’s more fun to steal it?” Verse asked. “I won’t order you your own plate in the future then.”

The elemental tugged on Verse’s ear with a claw, his tiny claws pricking the skin as he let out a hiss of agreement.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Verse laughed as he turned to his own meal. He dipped a slice of meat into a sauce as he considered his plans for Boreas.

Now that he’d managed to make a medium-quality paste, he was planning to head to the Alchemists’ Guild to get it approved. That would be the beginning of his public appearance. Before that, however, he wanted to get a little more information.

Based on everything he’d learned so far, there weren’t many traveling alchemists around Boreas, nor in the empire at large. Almost everyone belonged to an alchemy sect, the guild, or another large organization.

Part of that was because it was extremely expensive to practice alchemy and a large organization helped to support alchemists at the beginning of their careers. The other reason was because recipes were considered to be private property. Each sect had its own tradition and set of recipes that it excelled in.

Stealing a recipe was a grave crime, one that the guild punished harshly as soon as it caught the perpetrator. That was mainly due to profits, since if everyone had the recipes, the guild couldn’t raise the price to the maximum when they sold it.

Another way of looking at it was that the guild had a massive monopoly on alchemy and controlled the prices. Limiting access to recipes was part of that control. The guild saw them highly sensitive trade secrets and exerted an enormous amount of influence to keep them out of public circulation.

After a long period of guild control, recipes were treated like sacred scrolls. You couldn’t just have some unique ones and not get attention. It was guaranteed that as soon as you showed them to the world or tried to sell a new product, everyone would start looking at you, wondering where you got it.

Being the owner of a unique recipe was a type of prestige, one that brought a great deal of attention. It was an unexpected hurdle. He helped Leaf demolish some of the herb pastries as he looked into the distance, his thoughts flowing like a crystalline river.

If he wanted to sell things in Boreas, he needed some sort of background, or at least something to tell people about where his recipes came from.

Some basic recipes could be purchased from the guild, but only if you already had an identity as an alchemist in their good graces. Other recipes could be earned through specific levels of authority with them, which was hard to get, and they still tended to be only the most common types.

Other than that, the vast majority of recipes in the empire were the domain of specific alchemy sects that were enormous powers in their own right. Nearly all of them had sub-branches in Boreas. There were a dozen or so in total, and their disciples made up the majority of alchemists.

The only alchemists not in the sects were those from a handful of ancient alchemist clans or one of the few wandering alchemists who were considered to be sub-par trash until they managed to make a name for themselves.

Some of the latter who managed to rise to fame with an inheritance or through developing a unique pill, but they were very rare. When they did appear, they were often lured over to one of the alchemy sects before long.

All told, there was no such thing as having a few unique recipes and selling them quietly on his own. The amount of attention it would bring was well beyond what he’d expected. If he wanted to do it, he needed a cover story, one that was acceptable enough to deflect attention.

He continued to think about it as he filled his stomach. Before long, the food on the table was gone and Leaf was lazing on his shoulders with a contented expression and closed eyes. A cup of spiced spirit tea released curls of steam into the air as he held the cup in his hand, studying the wave design on it with distant eyes.

He needed to get a bit more information before he made a decision, and he knew just the place to do it. There was more than one way to figure out the inner workings of the guild.

The shopkeeper at the alchemy store where he got the herbs had been helpful before. Perhaps she would be again, especially if he bought more herbs. She should know how the guild would respond to new recipes. Her husband was an alchemist and she dealt with the local market every day.

He breathed in the curls of mist from the teacup and breathed out again, unconsciously letting a similar mist flow from his nostrils in two twisting streams. There was more energy in his breath than in the tea, and the mist traveled across the length of the table like a curl of auspicious qi before it dissipated into the air. Leaf watched with one half-open eye, his gaze curious, but Verse’s attention was fixed on other things.

A little while later, Verse set the tea cup down on the table with a clink. He had a clear path in mind now.

*****

“What can I do for you today? More herbs?” The shopkeeper’s smile was wide as she looked at Verse across the counter. His last purchase had left an impression. She held out the jade plate that held the store’s inventory to him as he approached the counter.

“Of course,” he said with a laugh as he took the plate and began browsing through it. “I’m here to stock up on more Verdant Leaf and Spiritual Dew, but I’m always interested in if anything unique has come in recently. Do you have anything Rank 3 or above that’s still a living herb?”

“We have a rare Obsidian Wind Leaf that came in yesterday,” the shopkeeper said thoughtfully. “That one is Rank 5, but it’s not living. It’s a prime component for two or three powerful pills, and whenever one comes in, it’s in high demand. I expect it will be sold by tomorrow, once everyone has a chance to bid on it.”

Verse didn’t hide his smile. Her words proved she knew the herbs required for several strong recipes, or at least some of the major components. She might not have the full recipe for them, but she had some information.

After he purchased another stock of the herbs he needed, he turned the conversation to the real reason he’d come. A jade box appeared in his hand and he opened it, showing the Woodbalm Paste inside as he set it on the counter.

“I’d like your opinion on something,” he said. “As far as I can tell, this recipe of mine is unknown in the city. It’s not a powerful medicine, but I’m planning on having the guild verify it soon. Perhaps tomorrow. Do you have any advice on the best way to do that?”

“A new recipe?” the shopkeeper’s eyes widened slightly as she looked down at the paste. “I wondered what you were buying all of those herbs for. If it’s actually a new one, you’ll get quite a bit of attention about it, no matter what rank it is. What do you call it?”

“Woodheal Salve,” Verse said. He’d decided to use a different name for the recipe, just in case someone had a record of the old one, however unlikely that was. “It’s a Rank 1 healing ointment, mostly for external injuries. I’m hoping it will sell well.”

“Similar to some other ointments,” the shopkeeper said with a nod, “but products like this are in high demand since everyone can use them. They are the type of thing that sells in bulk.” Her hand hovered over the salve, but she didn’t touch it. She looked thoughtful as she considered his question.

“You have two options,” she said eventually. “Assuming the guild verifies it, you can either sell the recipe to the guild or one of the large sects, or you can give the guild a small percentage of your sales to help you protect the recipe; in which case, they will ensure that you are the only one who is authorized to make the ointment. If anyone else tries, the guild will arrest them on your behalf.”

“I’d prefer to keep the recipe,” Verse said with a nod. “I should add that it requires a particular method to create, one that relies heavily on my cultivation method. It’s not something that can be done by anyone.”

“It’s a cultivation-linked recipe?” the shopkeeper looked up at him curiously, her interest rising. “There are quite a few of those around and they tend to be more powerful than basic recipes at the same tier. How effective is this on wounds? And how limiting is the restriction? Can anyone learn it or is it absolutely essential to have your cultivation method?”

“Without the right method, it’s impossible to make,” he said, shaking his head. “The most that someone could do without the method is a rough paste that probably wouldn’t even reach low quality. As for its effect, it’s as good as any basic healing pill I’ve seen and it doesn’t leave pill residue behind.”

It was the pure truth. Without his soul cauldron, bloodline, and the specific techniques he was using, there was no way to follow the recipe. Even getting a low-quality version was impossible. Someone might be able to use the herbs to make a different paste, but it wouldn’t be this one.

The shopkeeper just nodded, as if she weren’t surprised.

“That makes it easier, actually,” she said. “You’ll want to take the guild’s protection and pay their standard tax. Selling a recipe like that won’t get you much. Normally, the sects would bid for a new recipe and you could make a significant amount, but if the recipe is that specific, they won’t offer a good price. The real question, however, is if you have more of these recipes. Do you have a full inheritance that uses your cultivation method?”

The question was a bit more than he’d planned to answer, but after a moment, Verse nodded in agreement. “I do.”

“I see....” The shopkeeper tapped her fingers on the table. The gaze she was giving him now was far more considering than before, as if she were looking for hidden facets on a gemstone. “I know you’re an Imperial Knight, but more than that I think you’re an honest fellow, and I don’t want to see you get in trouble, so let me give you some advice.”

“Please do,” Verse nodded in agreement.

“You might not like the guild’s protection, but you absolutely need to accept it,” she said as she stared at him. “Pay that protection fee to them, or you are likely to find yourself in trouble. You need to trust me on that, and it’s not just because I have my own connections to the guild. It’s the best option for you. They can be a little greedy at times, but they’re also the most open to independent alchemists like you joining them.”

“Are things that bad?” he asked with surprise. He had considered the problem, but he wanted to hear her reasoning. “I thought alchemy recipes were well protected within the city?”

“They are for those with power and who are already influential,” she replied seriously. “For those alone, it can be difficult. You wouldn’t be the first cultivator with a bright future who’s disappeared into the depths of a sect and was never seen from again. The competition for worthwhile recipes makes some people willing to do anything to get them.

"So, before you go announcing to the world that you have an entire heritage, you need to get the guild’s backing. With them behind you, it will keep the rest of the sharks away. How much you tell them about your heritage recipes is something you’ll want to give a lot of thought. I recommend not revealing much, besides that you have some.”

“Because they’re the biggest shark of all?” Verse said with a dark humor, his eyebrow rising.

“That’s not too far off,” she said with a quiet laugh. “But they have their traditions and if they break them, they’d lose a lot of trust. So long as you keep it in their interest to support you, they will. Pay their tax.”

“The protection fee,” he said with a nod. He’d considered getting the guild’s backing before, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. “How does that work?”

“Ten percent,” she said simply. “They’ll try to take more than that, but bargain them down. That’s the standard rate, so they’ll get there eventually. That’ll get you a guild medallion, an official alchemist rank, and a market to buy and sell your medicines through. In return, they’ll verify your recipes, protect your right to make them, and not let anyone else steal them, as much as they can anyway. If your recipes get too much attention, you’ll still need to be careful.

“When you go to register your ointment here,” she continued as she waved her hand at the jade box, “you need to tell them exactly what you’re worth. Make them see you as a gold mine, one that will make them a lot of money, but also one that they can’t get without you. That’s where your cultivation method comes in. Keep that secret and make sure they know all your recipes require it. That will work in your favor.”

“So, make them think they can only get it by working with me,” Verse said as he looked down at the ointment, his thoughts surging. “And be careful not to give away the recipes.”

“Yes,” the shopkeeper agreed, “although it might be in your interest to let them try one or two for themselves, so that they can see it doesn’t work. It would be a small sacrifice for a good return. It should keep them busy for a while, and if they can’t figure out those recipes, they won’t have any reason to ask for more.”

She reached out and closed the jade box, pushing the ointment back across the counter toward him. “Based on this, I take it you need time to master your heritage. That’s why you’ve come to Boreas?”

“That’s right.” Verse nodded in agreement. It really was rather obvious from the low-quality of the product he’d shown her and the vast number of herbs he was going through.

“Then when you go to the appraiser, be honest and tell him you’re the last descendant of an alchemy heritage,” she said with a small quirk at the corner of her mouth. “Looking at you, I have the feeling that it’s true. I’ve never seen anyone with quite that aura you have, and I can sense it in your ointment too. The guild has a tradition of fostering lost schools of alchemy, so take advantage of it. Since it’s cultivation-linked, it won’t be that surprising. Finding inheritors for those is a pain in the neck.”

“Just like that?” Verse asked with a chuckle. “I was expecting they’d make things difficult or try to steal the recipes.”

“They will eventually,” she replied with a stern look, “but not at first. They’ll want to learn everything about you before then, and they’ll take the time to study you to see how the recipe and your cultivation method works. You use them, but never doubt that they’ll plan to use you. The guild’s protection is a two-edged sword. They’ll want you for their own, and if they can use what you have, they’ll try. So keep your head about you and look for allies.”

“So, nothing new then?” Verse interlaced his fingers and stretched them as he looked at the shopkeeper, and a slight smile appeared on his face. She was being far more honest with him than he’d expected. It made him like her.

“Power is the same everywhere,” she replied, her expression still stern. “Don’t forget that people follow the golden path, not the clay one.”

“Even you?” he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

“Even me,” she agreed, but her smile was still there. Despite that, there was a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “My name is Seresa, by the way. Make sure to show that plate I gave you when you get there, and to tell them that. It’s lucky for you that the bonus they’ll give me is the same whether or not they fleece you. And you should know that with each rank you make, I’ll get another bonus for sending you their way. So, it’s in my interest to help you out a bit.”

“You’ve done a little more than that,” Verse said with a quick grin back at her. “I’ll remember it.”

“That’s business too, my fine Imperial Knight,” she said as her own smile widened. “There aren’t so many of you around that I’d take that for granted. Now I have a connection with you if I ever need to ask you for a favor.”

“Yes, you do,” Verse agreed with a laugh. “Now, I suppose I should take another hundred Verdant Leaves and Spiritual Dews, just to say thank you.”

“Indeed you should,” she agreed as she passed the jade plate back to him. “And perhaps a Rank 2 or 3 herb as well.”