When the news was announced that the Alchemy Tower is capable of producing the fabled Nine-Cycle Elixirs, the whole of Grimlands was shaken.
There were cheaper alternatives to the elixirs of Medical System but their effects are weak and they triggers the cultivators’ bodies to produce resistances which disables them from receiving effects from the rest of the meridian-refining elixirs in the future. Due to that, many would prefer to suffer the shackles and wait for the opportunity than to completely cease their potentials altogether.
The Clan Master had already verified its authenticity and so, everyone is looking forward for their sale.
Master Trey, the Master for Marketing, had thought well of the fixed price. The ingredients for the elixirs’ production were surprisingly common and cheap that even if they drop the price to half of the Medical System’s price tag, they will still make twenty times of their capital.
However, they ultimately decided to lower it down to 30%. Making a price tag that’s highly suitable for large scale promotions is one of the reasons but above all else, the cheaper price will enable the quicker improvements of the cultivators in the Grimlands and as a result, they can better deter the threats from the Voided Reaches.
Still, in the business sense of things, the moment the Nine-Cycle Elixirs were released, the Alchemy Tower had reached a newer and higher height not only in the Grimlands but in the surrounding realms as well.
Before long, both the confederation and the empire had sent their ambassadors to meet the Clan Master with their respective proposals over a steady purchase of these elixirs.
The Medical System weren’t too happy about it when they received the news. The empire and the confederation are their biggest clienteles and the Nine-Cycle was one of their most lucrative products. With what Lugiel did, the Medical System had just lost both.
Hence, as precautionary measures, the Clan Master increased the number of guards both for the Tower and the residences of its executives especially Lugiel’s.
With more that might come from him in the future, Lugiel’s safety had just become the Clan’s priority number two.
Since then, a month had passed.
*Swoosh!
Upon exiting the back channel, he and Magnum had covertly entered the realm of Volpex. Here is not their destination but to where they will ride an airship bound to Alphonia, the central realm of the Core Branches and the capital of the One Empire.
Ideally, it is still unwise to flaunt his presence, despite being covert, in an imperial territory, much more to its capital, after the fiasco he spearheaded against the 47th Fleet a month ago. It is still fresh in the empire’s mind and thus, the hunt for him is still hot. Shem, the hag as Magnum would often address her, who they are about to have a meeting with is also someone they would want to refrain sharing tables with for as much as possible. Ultimately, this entire effort is a lump of risks and inconveniences.
Unfortunately, they have no choice but to comply and go through this as Shem’s new intel might lead them again to another ancient ruin they were looking for.
Hence, he could only sigh in defeat as he receive his ticket and settle to his seat.
The travel time is half an hour with the back channel and another half an hour in Alphonia proper. Despite the distance between the exit point and the realm can technically be covered in five minutes, the strict security inspection consumes a lot of time.
“What’s your purpose in Alphonia?” The imperial customs officer demanded. First timer and rare travellers to Alphonia, especially if towards its Imperial City of Ivona, are all doomed to be hassled by this specific process.
“I’m a canvasser,” he replied, presenting his documents. “I travel from realm to realm to find potential suppliers of raw materials for our products.”
The officer checked the authenticity of his document, searching if something is amiss. Unfortunately for him, he will surely find none despite the falsehood. The company and the identity are both legit. Wanderers are cultivators living primarily in coverts and therefore, preparations such as these are basic standards. Aside from that, he had also strengthened it further using his influence as a Zolrath so it’s absolutely airtight.
Finally, the officer gave him a green light allowing him entrance to the imperial city.
After leaving the station, he headed immediately to the trade center in which despite the empire’s fascist ruling is surprisingly lively and found the shop given in the instruction, a tiny shop that’s rather inconveniently established in a small alley. If not for the definitive address provided to him, he would not have found it.
The shop’s dimly lit and its racks were filled with transparent glass jars containing different organs and tissues submerged in a green liquid. Above that, everything is pretty dusty, poorly maintained.
Very typical of her.
“You’re here!” From the sales counter, an old woman wearing a tall pointed hat is seated. Her face is heavily wrinkled and full of warts with a nose hooked like a hawk’s talons.
Unfortunately for them, this hideous creature is Shem.
“Yeah, I’m here,” was his nearly nonchalant response as he approach the counter. “The network relayed that you have something for me.”
“Yes,” she said and stood from her seat. “This might interest you.”
She then pulled out a stone slab the size of a book from her storage ring and places it above the counter. The slab is made out of pure gold.
“What is this?” He wondered before touching it
*Pzzzt!
Upon contact, Wanda experienced a sudden jolt which was also conveyed to Magnum who presently rested within the pocket of his jacket. Through that, he is able to identify it.
“This is an ancient beast relic, pre-cluster.”
Pre-cluster is what they call the years prior to the first coalition or cluster of realms in the Galactic Tree, technically, the time before the discovery of the dimensional stem and the back channels which what brought the realms, the leaves of the Galactic Tree together.
“Where did you get this?”
“That’s the intel I’m intending to sell,” she said, chuckling, which is akin to an owl hooting. “The Crimson Molluscs had recently discovered an ancient ruin and an impatient one among them had luckily fenced some of their loots to me.”
He nodded.
Supposedly, tomb raiders like the Crimson Molluscs will never cash any of their loots not until their dig is completely over in order to not compromise their location both from their competitors and the faction where their dig sites belonged. However, this one is apparently in a dire need of a quick grab that he completely disregarded the consequences.
Regardless, it is lady lucky smiling to him that he fenced his loots to Shem of all people in the Tree.
“What’s the entire package?” There’s a reason why she made him wait for a couple of months.
“The details, a false identity, and a recommendation to include you into the dig.”
“Sold.” This is what he likes about Shem. She might be an uncomfortable associate but she gets the job done.
He then opened his right palm, situating it between them, and with a thought, blood mists emerged from the pores of his skin and coagulate into a red pearl. Once it was fully formed, Shem gleefully took it.
The pearl is his blood essence. Of all the races in the Tree, his is the only one that has an innate function to absorb and refine Mana to lengthen their youth and lifespans instead of the usual where the Mana accumulation simply affects the body and therefore, produces effects such as delayed aging. The produced years are also transferrable through the form of the blood essence and the one Shem just took is worth ten years. Unfortunately, it is not without consequences and Shem’s current appearance is one of those.
Decades ago when he first met her, she was a fine maiden with beauty that even time can’t easily waver. However now, after several consumption of his blood essence to extend her life, she’d been reduced to this hideous form.
He’s not one to judge of her choices though. Like him, she has an obligation to fulfil and until then, she will do everything to keep her death at bay.
“When is it?”
“The day after tomorrow.”