Chapter 53: Alchemist’s Dream
Scents of crushed herbs and burning incense filled the eastern wing of the estate, moving through the hallways like phantom breeze.
The room was warmer than the others, unnaturally so, and lit with a strange orange glow that beat against the walls like firelight through amber.
Lan stepped inside.
The side chamber had once been a study, long since abandoned. Now, it had become something far more. Copper cauldrons bubbled quietly over rune-inscribed braziers.
Shelves were crowded with jars of crushed bark, dried roots, and crystalized animal glands. Scrolls and diagrams covered one wall—half-inked symbols written in both the elegant script of old Solaris and the jagged glyphs of alchemical theory.
Two small furnaces at the back spat low flames, each emitting a different hue. The air was dense with Qi, not the kind that surged in battle, but something subtler—focused, cultivated, breathing.
Seraphine stood at the center, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her hair pulled back, golden strands streaked with soot. Her hands worked with the precision of a surgeon and the reverence of a monk.
Lan leaned against the doorway, watching her for a while before speaking.
"You look like you’ve been here for days."
She didn’t turn. "Three nights. I sleep for a couple hours when my legs give out."
Lan chuckled softly. "You’ll collapse before long."
"Not if I perfect this first," she said, finally glancing back. Her eyes gleamed with fervor, the same light he’d seen during battle—only now, it was alchemical fire instead of adrenaline.