Chapter Fifty-Five: The Fallacy of Truth

He had always been quite curious as to why the luminescent grass could serve as the main ingredient for vitality potions. After all, the grass itself was hardly anything special—a plant that emitted a faint glow at night, its natural properties seemingly unrelated to the replenishment of vigor or energy. Qixiao had brewed it countless times without truly understanding, simply following the recipe as written.

But now he finally understood: potion ingredients were divided into explicit and latent types. The luminescent grass contained a unique internal magic, most active when glowing at night, capable of stimulating the vitality of living beings.

Furthermore, during the alchemical process, the grass could be liquefied and combined with life dew, triggering a remarkable chemical reaction that released elements able to enhance biological vitality.

Life dew, despite its lofty name, could actually be collected from common plant leaves, especially morning dew—easy to obtain and inexpensive. He heard that before these properties were discovered, vitality potions were far less affordable than they are now, though their effects were somewhat superior. The diminished efficacy of current potions was, after all, a trade-off for lower costs.

After spending two days finishing the introductory manual on potion-making, Qixiao, already possessing a solid foundation in the field, found it easy to grasp. He promptly returned the book and borrowed the advanced manual.

He handled the advanced manual with great care, placing it reverently on his desk and opening to the first page.

From this point onward, every alchemy book could fetch a handsome price. Beyond these lay the formal legacies of alchemy, each one commanding a king’s ransom.

Though the title was plain, its contents could captivate any alchemist. Qixiao quickly became engrossed.

He did not know how many days had passed before a gentle knock on the door roused him from his reverie.

He straightened himself a bit, his voice hoarse: "Enter."

The young blood servant stepped in respectfully and bowed. "Young Master Qixiao, the Master has returned. He requests your presence in the study."

Qixiao was sipping black tea to soothe his throat. Hearing the servant’s words, a hint of joy appeared on his face; he was in good spirits and replied, "Understood, I’ll go now. Have you learned the wizard’s tongue? How is Bloodruo progressing?"

Bloodlian, too, was delighted, his essence slightly spilling forth. "Bloodruo is still practicing, but he’s nearly found his footing—he’ll master it within a week at most."

Qixiao praised them both, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and made his way to his mentor’s study.

At the door, before he could knock, the entrance swung open by itself.

Qixiao had barely stepped into the room when his complexion turned ghostly pale.

'Disorder.' 'Chaos.' 'Fallacy.'... Several words flashed through his mind, and yet none could adequately describe the aura he sensed. It seemed to encompass endless confusion, as if it were the antithesis of truth—simultaneously alluring and instinctively repellent.

His pallor deepened until Midiel’s staff tapped the floor, a crisp sound ringing out that jolted him awake.

Qixiao regained clarity, and that aura surged toward its origin before vanishing without a trace.

He gasped for breath, nearly collapsing, then, after a few moments, looked toward the source of that unsettling presence.

A dazzling orb of light danced in the air.

His pupils contracted. Having spent more than a month in the organization, he naturally recognized its true master—a Level 3 Mysterious Side Truth Wizard, "Paradox of Truth" Demos Alfred.

As for which school he belonged to, there seemed to be no definitive answer—rumors abounded.

Qixiao also knew his sensitivities, so he respectfully greeted, "I greet you, Paradox of Truth."

Demos appeared quite interested in Qixiao, circling around him. Qixiao dared neither look nor speak, only standing quietly, glancing toward his mentor and hoping for rescue.

He wondered how his mentor had ever befriended two people so utterly unlike himself... Was the mentor reserved, and the other two overt?

"Paradox of Truth" Demos, "Shadow of the World" Midiel, and "Voice of the Mortal Realm" Elinor were legends from three centuries ago in the All Souls Vault.

Not only had they met in obscurity, leaving many stories in the wizarding world, but all three had become formal wizards and risen to the upper echelons of the Vault.

Demos, in fact, rose from slave to the supreme leader of one of the largest northern wizarding organizations—a tale adapted by countless novels and picture books.

Qixiao had first heard Demos’s story from a protagonist’s perspective in a film. After arriving at the Vault, he heard much more, and his admiration and curiosity grew. He even secretly inquired about him with his mentor.

Midiel had only responded, his expression complicated, "He’s... quite a peculiar man."

Peculiar? Qixiao never quite grasped that understatement. In his mind, Demos was likely a striking, commanding, and composed young man—something akin to a heroic dragon.

Yet now, the filter shattered with a silent crack as he watched the mercurial... orb of light flitting around him.

Midiel seemed unable to bear it any longer, his tone tinged with annoyance: "If you wanted to meet him merely for this sort of thing, please leave. You may idle your time, but my disciple will not waste his in such a manner."

Qixiao felt embarrassed. Was his time more precious than the Vaultmaster’s? He dared not utter such words.

The orb stopped circling at this, complaining, "I simply wanted to observe a bit first... Honestly. Little one, call me Uncle. This is my gift to you for our first meeting~"

A wooden box, glowing with the same light as the orb, floated slowly toward Qixiao and halted before him. He did not accept it immediately but instead looked to his mentor.

Seeing no objection, Qixiao understood that silence meant consent in his mentor’s eyes. He took the box with both hands and hurriedly bowed in thanks, "Thank you, Uncle."

The orb’s light dimmed considerably, its tone weakening, "I’ve truly gone all out this time, little one. Don’t let me down."

As the orb slowly faded, it could not help but add, "If you’ve chosen wrongly, I won’t let it go!"

Midiel, for the first time, responded, his voice grave and sincere, "Rest assured. Trust me. Trust him."

The orb said no more and vanished completely.

Qixiao pondered their conversation. Once Demos’s orb disappeared, Midiel relaxed, his manner gentle yet solemn as he cautioned, "Put this away for now. Do not open it until you become an advanced wizard apprentice. When the time comes, let me know beforehand—never open it in private."