The Alchemist’s Light

When not at work, Iordera immersed herself in the library.

Among the countless volumes, one particular book,

“A Teenager’s Cultivation Handbook,” captivated her attention for an entire day, yielding profound insights.

It offered valuable advice on advancing through various cultivation stages, noting, for instance, that “repetitive exertion exercises” proved immensely effective up to Level 40, allowing for significant rank increases through sheer practice.

Glancing at her control panel, Iordera observed that her current skillset seemed to require no weapons; she might as well return home and practice punching a sandbag.

She would train her sinews and bones, refine her inner strength, and develop the explosive power of a pinecone’s sudden tremor (TL Note: “松果弹抖劲儿” refers to a martial arts technique emphasizing explosive, spring-like power originating from the joints).

Beyond these practical tips, she also stumbled upon an intriguing piece of common knowledge within the book.

It revealed that while people on this continent typically lacked surnames, royalty, nobles, and legendary powerhouses possessed hereditary titles.

In formal settings, their names would thus transform into—

Midashir, Holy Might

Irena, Daughter of Cinder

Jack, Solitary Love-Burier

And so on.

Iordera had spent the day engrossed in her reading, rubbing her eyes as she finally looked out the window to find dusk descending.

“Oh no, it’s time to deliver dinner!”

She dared not let that witch go hungry; the consequences would be terrifying.

Fortunately, apart from their “heart-to-heart” conversation that morning, Hecate had remained remarkably quiet throughout the day, speaking very little.

When food arrived, she ate; when the loli (TL Note: A Japanese slang term for a young girl, often depicted in anime or manga with childlike features) appeared, she simply watched.

Her days passed pleasantly enough.

Iordera, too, successfully completed her day’s work and departed with her pay.

Today had truly been a good day; no mishaps at work, no masked assailants on her way home.

Juneburg, it seemed, had transformed into a harmonious and peaceful city.

As evening fell, however, patrol guards appeared on either side of the streets, posting notices on the walls.

Being nearby, Iordera seized the opportunity to investigate.

[Proclamation to the Citizens:

My dear brothers and sisters, elders and kin, I, the City Lord of Juneburg, extend my sincerest greetings to you all.

In recent times, many events have transpired within our city, burdening each of us.

Yet, I implore you to trust me; soon, I shall restore a safe and beautiful life to everyone.

Furthermore, the day after tomorrow, I shall deliver a city-wide address in Juneburg Plaza, personally explaining and assuring you of these matters.

Martin, Sword-Gatherer]

“Excellent! If the City Lord says so, he must have a solution.”

“Those damned masked men will finally be dealt with!”

“City Lord Martin is truly commendable; he’s a real man.”

The onlookers by the notice chattered excitedly, but Iordera, unlike them, felt no such sentiments, merely finding the City Lord’s title rather unique.

‘Clearly, resolving these matters requires a prominent figure like the City Lord.

The witch’s incitement for me to meddle must surely be a trick.’

‘Fortunately, I saw through her scheme at a glance!’

Iordera mentally applauded her own sharp wit.

It was time to head home and enjoy dinner in peace.

Iordera returned to her dwelling cheerfully, only to open the door to a dim, lifeless home.

In the faint light, she located the two sisters sprawled on the sofa, seemingly lifeless. “Nina, Yuna, I’m back.

Where’s dinner?”

And the lights weren’t even on.

“Miss, the lights are broken,” Nina said weakly. “We can’t cook in the dark.

Just wait a bit.”

Iordera, who had been reaching for the light switch, pressed it, but nothing happened in the room.

It truly was broken.

“But won’t it get even darker later?” she asked, failing to grasp Nina’s meaning. “Wait for what?”

“For the person to fix the light.”

Just then, a knocking sounded at the door, and Andrew’s voice drifted in: “Girls, are you there?

I’m here to fix your light.”

“Coming, coming, right away,” Nina called out, then turned to Iordera. “Miss, could you please open the door?

Thank you.”

‘Well, well, having the Miss open the door while the maid herself still lies about.’

Iordera opened the door to let Andrew in, observing the bald uncle carrying a toolbox.

“A few days ago, some masked men were fighting right outside, and the residual shockwave might have damaged a wire in the light,” he explained, placing a hat fitted with a glowing panel on his head. “It needs proper repair.”

Iordera seemed to understand. “Is this light an alchemical item?”

“Of course.”

The two maids no longer lay idle; they helped move a stool over.

Andrew stepped onto it and began repairing the alchemical lightbulb on the ceiling.

Iordera rubbed her small hands together. “Uncle Andrew, you’ve been busy all day, and now you’re helping us fix things.

I feel quite bad.”

“It’s no trouble at all, just a routine task,” Andrew chuckled heartily. “At most, it’ll take a bit of time.”

Feeling awkward just watching, Iordera pondered what she could do to help.

“Perhaps I could hold the light for you?”

“No need, I’ve got this on my head,” Andrew said casually, adjusting his hat. “Besides, little lass, you’re not tall enough to shine it properly.”

That single remark instantly made the eager-to-help loli (TL Note: A Japanese slang term for a young girl, often depicted in anime or manga with childlike features) withdraw into herself.

With no other option, she merely watched from the side, offering a few awkward compliments.

“Uncle Andrew, your skills are truly impressive; your craftsmanship is exquisite.”

“Hmph, look at that swing—twenty years of accumulated skill!”

“Truly excellent, truly excellent.”

“You must be quite remarkable in your town, aren’t you?”

Andrew listened with a cheerful grin, and when he paused, he replied, “Actually, there’s nothing remarkable about me; I’m just average.

Those folks the other night, their skills were no worse than mine.”

As he tightened a screw, he continued, “In our town, we only have alchemical artisans, not proper alchemists.

But everyone makes a living this way, and we’ve done a lot of work.

Some families have even inherited their shops for generations, considering themselves no less skilled than the alchemists in the city.”

“However, we’ve never passed the formal assessments, so we lack the official status and ranking.

Now, with the City Lord’s appreciation, we can finally prove ourselves.”

Remembering the people from the barbecue gathering, Iordera asked, “Did many of you come this time?”

“All the skilled artisans from town came; the City Lord personally invited us, and everyone was thrilled, even bringing some younger ones along to gain experience,” Andrew said excitedly. “On the day we left, the mayor’s family stood at the town entrance to see us off, along with many others.”

“Everyone is waiting for us to finish this job, return home gloriously, and make Hammer Town famous.”

Andrew put away his small hammer and stepped down from the stool. “It’s fixed.

Try turning it on.”

Nina, who had been waiting by the switch, pressed it immediately upon hearing his words.

*Click*. The room was instantly bathed in light.

“Thank you, Uncle Andrew,” Iordera called out to him. “Will you join us for dinner?”

“No, I’ve arranged to drink with my friends,” Andrew replied. “We’ll be rushing the project in a couple of days and won’t be able to go home, so we’re having one last drink.

Will you join us for a couple of drinks?”

“I’ll pass,” Iordera quickly declined. “I have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

‘If the witch goes hungry, I won’t be having a good time.’