The Glorious Evolution

The attendant led Levi and Jasmine into a smaller hall, where close to fifty guests gathered around tables overlooking an indoor pond.

Levi recognized Rusk’s voice among the conversations.

The Viscount discussed equipment with a Cauldron-Fey alchemist, apparently making good use of his invitation already.

Elsewhere, a Count offered to fund a research project in exchange for priority over its findings... another guest wanted an alchemist to supervise his family’s evolutionary preparations.

Nobody bothered displaying a public trading list here... the guests came to discuss arrangements worth more than an evening’s purchases.

Levi listened with interest until an introduction near the pond distracted him.

”Count Wick’Ral. How lovely that your daughter could join us.”

’...Wick’Ral?’ Levi frowned.

His Harmonic Spine traced an unnaturally slender figure with pointed ears and a crown of candles in place of hair... wax slid down the layered folds of his robes, thickening before it reached the floor.

The Black Slimes’ report on House Targon’s backer had supplied the name long before tonight... later, Bishop Va’ren shared the part that the report had omitted.

The Count was a Rook of the Duskbound Order, and he was the one posting that generous bounty on his head.

Levi shared the news with Jasmine.

’How many people have you offended...? It’s our first night out, Levi. Should I be thinking about a second date or planning our escape?’ Jasmine teased.

Even Levi was taken aback by meeting Wick’Kral and Drayven at the same event... he already knew such gatherings were popular amongst high nobility in the expanse, but still.

’Drayven likes me now.’ Levi coughed.

Jasmine chuckled inwardly and dropped the matter.

Levi also ignored the Count and treated him just like any other nobleman at the dinner... he had no intention of abandoning the dinner.

Still, he kept his ears hovering on top of the Count, listening to him introduce the young woman beside him as his daughter.

She wore a fitted gown with long, divided sleeves, and narrow candles rose from the coil of hair behind her head... her father’s hand rested at her back while he described her interest in alchemy.

”She has reached the point where it’s a must to get her a Master Alchemist to guide her correctly.”

Crowglass received the compliment with a pleasant hum.

”Then I hope she enjoys meeting everyone...”

She turned to his daughter and asked what she liked studying.

The Count allowed the young woman to answer for herself, and her explanation soon moved from medicinal preparations to controlling heat during extraction.

Levi left them to it as he knew that Wick’Ral’s daughter wasn’t the only prospective student competing for attention.

Parents introduced their children to the masters, while nobles without companions presented their own study records.

One elderly Baron discussed his failed concoction with such enthusiasm that Levi initially mistook him for an established alchemist describing a project.

Strength and age didn’t decide who could begin learning this craft.

For these families, securing a teacher meant more than giving a child a respectable occupation.

A family alchemist could research their bloodline’s formulas, supervise precious ingredients, and spare them years of depending on outsiders whenever someone approached an evolution.

The Sovereignty of Seven Hearths built its influence around that need... each Hearth honored one of the seven Grandmasters the Cauldron-Fey had produced throughout their history, living or dead.

Tonight, one of their living Grandmasters stood within reach, and these powerful nobles followed her around like ducklings.

Soon, Crowglass moved next to Levi and Jasmine, greeting them with a pleasant smile... before they could respond, another father approached with his son.

By then, even her attendants struggled to find a gap between introductions.

”My dears... at this rate, our cooks will grow old waiting for us.”

Her gentle complaint earned a few embarrassed laughs. After consulting the masters beside her, Crowglass turned back to her guests.

”Shall we have our little dinner games again?”

The parents understood at once... and their children struggled to contain their excitement.

Whenever too many of Crowglass’s friends approached her about apprenticeships, she settled their competing requests through these tests.

The masters could examine the hopeful students, and everyone else could enjoy the entertainment before dinner.

A father near Levi quietly urged his daughter forward.

”You’ve studied for this. Take your time, read carefully... and show them.”

Similar reminders passed between the other families. The children approached the central tables with their parents’ expectations following them, while nobles seeking instruction for themselves joined without waiting for encouragement.

”We can accept up to two students tonight,” Crowglass told them. ”Provided we find two we wish to teach. If nobody impresses us, we shall simply enjoy our dinner together.”

None of the families questioned that condition. Securing a place at her dinner took connections... leaving with a teacher required something their parents couldn’t provide for them.

Levi intended to watch until Ash’Kral spoke.

’Join them.’

’Huh? How can I? I am not ready.’

’You keep pestering me about being ready to learn alchemy... now, you aren’t? Here are some of the ’finest’ alchemists of this age, willing to teach. Go learn what they know.’

Levi recognized the opportunity... while Ash’Kral had clearly recognized an even better one: making Levi’s early mentorship someone else’s problem.

Ash’Kral was never against teaching Levi; he just found it a waste of his time and effort to mentor him before he became a Master Alchemist... only then would he be able to grasp the real ancient alchemy, not the modern, simplified version.

Levi might have respected that excuse if the bastard were actually busy... but most of his precious time went into playing board games with the Titan.

’Your laziness really has no limits.’

’Neither does your complaining... Move.’

In the end, Levi decided to join, as he had nothing to lose by trying.

Levi sent Jasmine a message before joining the candidates. She chose a seat facing the tables and wished him better luck than he had enjoyed upstairs.

Levi’s brow twitched, but he decided to forgive that unnecessary addition.

Fifteen candidates lined up before Crowglass as she summoned a standard alchemy station from her dimensional wallet.

A bronze cauldron sat over a heating array at the center of the stone workbench, with precision scales, a mortar and pestle, and glass extraction vessels arranged beside it.

Measuring vials and stirring rods filled a narrow rack along the back.

Everything an Aspiring Alchemist needed for a low-grade potion.

”Three questions, my dears... followed by a practical test for those who answer all three correctly.”

She shared a private answer screen with each participant.

”You’ll receive the same questions and the same time to consider them. Include your reasoning... a fortunate guess won’t earn you a place at the next stage.”

Their submissions would remain hidden until the allotted time ended. After each question, the masters would review the answers and dismiss anyone who failed.

”Those who remain will prepare the same low-grade potion,” she continued. ”The finest result wins the final game. Until then, keep your answers to yourselves.”

Levi opened his screen while the candidates settled into silence.

”Now... let us begin.”

Crowglass displayed the first problem on the station and sent a copy to everyone.

It concerned three batches of Blue Hour Rime, all harvested together and stored at the same temperature.

Their weights and spiritual readings matched, yet only one could still steady the reaction in the supplied formula.

The candidates received each batch’s storage record and had to identify the usable portion, the damaged property, and why ordinary inspection missed the damage.

Levi examined the records... all three collectors kept the frost cold, but only one stored it in a lightproof container.

’If the temperature was right for all three... why mention the containers?’

Then he remembered Alzhukar’s warning in one of his notes... exposure to light ruined Blue Hour Rime’s ability to steady a reaction, even while the frost remained frozen and retained its spiritual energy.

The usual checks could confirm its weight and energy... not whether it still worked.

’The third batch... that’s the one. The other collectors kept it from melting, but their display cases let the light ruin the property they needed.’

He submitted his explanation and waited.

”The third batch,” Crowglass revealed. ”Cold preserved the frost’s shape. Darkness preserved the property this formula requires.”

She displayed the matching spiritual readings beside the storage records.

”These measurements tell you how much spiritual energy remains... not whether that energy can still serve its intended purpose. A lamp may be full of oil and still refuse to burn because someone damaged its wick.”

The comparison made the mistake clear, even to the guests without alchemical knowledge.

Levi and ten others passed.

The four unsuccessful candidates returned to their seats while Crowglass shared the explanation for everyone to keep.

”That alone was worth attending tonight, Madam,” one noble praised.

An alchemist beside him agreed. ”I may borrow your lamp comparison for my students...”

More compliments followed... including an enthusiastic declaration from a father whose son had just failed that no teacher could explain the matter more clearly.

’If flattery counted as alchemy, nobody here would need a mentor.’

Levi’s upper lip twitched at the fakeness of it all, but he kept the thought to himself.