Chapter 32: The Alchemist Guild’s Shared Hall

For Ian, the Alchemist Guild's Shared Hall wasn't entirely unfamiliar, though he wouldn't call himself well-versed in its workings. He had previously earned the recognition of Greenholm, the head of the Storm Cape branch, to become an official alchemist. However, Ian hadn't spent much time there due to his unique circumstances, focusing instead on meditation and training at his castle.

Ian had often heard about the Paradise Harbor branch of the Alchemist Guild's Shared Hall. Established just a year after Paradise Island was discovered, it was second in scale only to the guild's Eastern Continent headquarters. It was also the most peculiar extraordinary association Ian had encountered—simultaneously frugal and extravagant.

Instead of being situated on Central Street, the guild was tucked away 20 kilometers east of Paradise Harbor along an unassuming gravel road. At the end of the road lay a massive circular plaza.

This, Ian learned, was the Alchemist Guild's Shared Hall.

There was no grand entrance, no pristine stone-paved paths, and no majestic buildings—just a vast plaza surrounded by six modest, hexagonal towers.

The plaza, though expansive with a three-kilometer diameter, was admittedly rough around the edges. Besides a few winding "paths," it was overgrown with weeds, and there wasn't a sculpture or fountain in sight.

Each of the six towers was situated at a corner of the hexagonal plaza. Standing only two stories tall and coated in blackened stone, they were thoroughly unassuming.

Curious, Ian strolled around the plaza. A closer look revealed that it was constructed as a large-scale alchemical array, with the "paths" actually composed of intricate silver-white lines.

Kneeling down for a better view, Ian discovered that the material was primarily silver, interwoven with dazzling mithril—a renowned alchemical product.

Mithril, often called "true silver," was as light as a feather, as tough as dragon scales, and exceptionally efficient at conducting extraordinary energy without loss. Rare and coveted, mithril wasn't a natural metal but a magical creation, painstakingly produced by processing alchemical stones through advanced arrays at great cost.

As Ian ran his fingers along the mithril lines, he appeared calm outwardly, but inwardly, his thoughts raced. For all its outward simplicity, the guild had evidently spared no expense.

When Ian entered one of the towers, he realized he had still underestimated the Alchemist Guild.

Each tower turned out to be a massive, inverted wizard's tower. The two visible floors were merely the base, with seven additional underground levels.

The tower Ian entered, closest to Paradise Harbor, was known as the First Wizard's Tower or the Tower of Potionry, established by the great potion master, Andymion.

The reception was handled by an apprentice—a non-extraordinary individual. Upon learning that Ian was an unregistered alchemist, the apprentice remained unfazed.

"Please wait here," the apprentice said, leading Ian to a sparsely furnished room with a table, chairs, and a single light fixture before leaving.

Thankfully, Ian didn't have to wait long before sensing someone approaching.

"Apologies for the wait. I'm Selk, responsible for registrations. Follow me."

The man who entered had an unkempt beard and a disheveled appearance. He spoke quickly, turning to leave before Ian could reply.

Suppressing a chuckle, Ian followed, sensing Selk's pure, energetic spirit and lack of hostility.

Inside a room dominated by a massive crystal sphere, Selk began asking questions.

"Name?"

"Tryst."

"Age?"

"…"

Their exchange was swift, with Selk recording the details into a glowing leather-bound ledger.

"Now, place your hands on the crystal sphere. Your spiritual signature will be recorded for access to the tower. Areas you can't enter will be restricted by your clearance level."

Having gone through this process before at Storm Cape, Ian placed his hands on the sphere without hesitation.

As his spiritual energy surged, strong ripples spread across the room. The sphere glowed brightly—different from what Ian had experienced before. His heartbeat quickened involuntarily.

However, nothing unusual occurred. The sphere completed its recording, and everything returned to normal.

Ian exhaled quietly, maintaining a composed expression despite his inner confusion.

He suspected that his spiritual signature had changed after his reincarnation, possibly due to his enhanced and refined spiritual traits.

With the registration complete, Selk instructed Ian to seek out apprentices for information about guild rules before hurrying off.

That suited Ian just fine. He already knew the basics:

Knowledge for Sequence 9 alchemists was free, while anything beyond Sequence 8 required payment based on its value.

Basic information on magical equipment, alchemical products, and material identification was free, but formulas and crafting methods came at a cost.

The guild operated on a contribution point system. These points could be used to purchase knowledge, potions, equipment, and materials, often of extraordinary rarity and value.

Contribution points could be earned in various ways, but the most common method was through knowledge exchange. The guild wasn't interested in money—it valued knowledge above all else.

This wasn't limited to extraordinary or forbidden knowledge; even mundane insights were accepted, provided the guild deemed them valuable.

Ian had already prepared for this. His trump card was his expertise in crafting enchanted weapon oils.

Thanks to his unique spiritual traits, Ian's insights into the process were unparalleled. His guide on crafting enchanted weapon oils was certain to be a hit among alchemists, significantly improving their success rates and quality—how much, of course, would still depend on individual skill.

After all, as the old saying goes: You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.