The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

Chapter 170 The Free Iris: Western Alchemy

The warden extended his gloved hand, walked to the bedside, bent down, and touched the water stains on the Marquis's neck with his fingertips.

When the fingertips of the glove touched the remaining liquid, it glowed slightly. It was a very faint blue light, as if something was flowing between the fibers.

Then he moved his hand away, pinched two fingers together and rubbed them, and a small flame suddenly ignited at his fingertips, which flickered twice and then went out.

At this moment, another wisp of smoke rose from the surface of the glove, thin and swirling upwards.

So he straightened up and made a judgment.

These water stains really are from water.

It contains no toxins, no drug residues, and no ingredients that should not be present in human secretions.

But that's precisely why it seems so strange; this water doesn't look like something that came out of a living person's stomach.

It contains no saliva, no stomach acid, and no bodily fluids of any kind. It is simply water.

"Did you find anything else during your inspection?"

Behind the warden stood another man. He was in his thirties, with a long, thin face and equally slender limbs. He wore a dark gray alchemical robe with a mercury droplet badge pinned to his collar.

He was known as the Mercury Alchemist, the resident alchemist of the de Vallier family. Mercury is also quicksilver, meaning he was adept at using poison.

But faced with the scene before him, the mercury alchemist simply shook his head.

"That's it. It's exactly the same as when you came, sir. There are no other clues." He paused, lowering his voice slightly.

Upon hearing this, the warden made no attempt to refute or question it further.

It was the mercury sorcerer who spoke first, asking, "Sir, if I may be so bold as to ask, how many times has this happened?"

The warden was silent for a moment before finally speaking, "This is the fifth time."

Isabella walked alone through a side alley on the Champs-Élysées.

She carried no lantern, yet walked steadily, and soon stopped in front of a small door.

This is the back entrance of a huge mansion. The surrounding gate towers are magnificent, clearly belonging to some noble family.

She stood at the door and knocked twice, once long and once short. Soon, someone opened the door.

-

Despite the luxurious mansion, the person who opened the door was not a maid, but a lady around forty years old, wearing a dark silk home dress, with her hair tied up high, revealing her clean face.

Her eyes scanned the person standing at the doorway in the darkness, then she immediately frowned and gently pulled her inside, avoiding the view of the outside world.

At the same time, she asked in a very low voice, "Isabella? What brings you here? So suddenly."

Isabella didn't make any extra movements; she simply handed over a small jar she was holding.

It was only the size of a thumb, made of glass, and the liquid inside was colorless and transparent, showing no distinguishing features in the dark. Only the cork bore an imprint somewhat similar to the royal iris pattern.

"Miss Anne couldn't endure the abuse." She also lowered her voice. "She acted first. That beast is dead."

She shoved the bottle into the woman's hand: "That's why I came early. Here, take this. I need to hide for a bit."

She took a step back and looked up at the dark window above the door.

"Madam, I believe you can handle this calmly."

-

In the laboratory late at night, it was so quiet that only the faint sound of the phlogiston lamp wick burning could be heard.

Zhang Chang'an stood in front of the fireplace-like alchemical furnace, a fine layer of sweat on his forehead.

He had rolled up the sleeves of his prison uniform to his elbows, and there were several black and gray marks on his forearms.

The furnace was large, made entirely of metal, and its outer wall was welded with concentric transmutation array patterns that ran from the base to the top.

The furnace door was open, and the flames inside had gone out, leaving only a pile of grayish-white ash mixed with a few irregular dark particles. He used an iron hook to pry the particles out, placed them on the stone slab, and picked one up to examine it.

It's not perfectly round, and the surface is pitted and uneven, but the color is uniform, a dark brown, with a slight medicinal fragrance.

The Qi-Nourishing Pill. Its quality isn't great, but it's definitely a success.

The genealogy page unfolded silently at the edge of the field of vision: "Item information has been entered."

"[Peiyuan Dan] (common version) is made from herbs and plants, refining essence into qi, strengthening the foundation and nourishing the source. Taking it can replenish vital energy, strengthen the internal organs, and is especially effective for those with qi and blood deficiency, and those who are weak and powerless."

The color is mixed, the medicinal properties are coarse, the pills are not round, and there are cracks on the surface. The efficacy is about 40% to 60% of the genuine product.

He tossed the pill into the porcelain bowl beside him. The bowl was already half full, and the pills were similar to this one, all looking misshapen and cracked.

Next to it were several other bowls, each containing a different type of pill: Body Nourishing Pill, Breath Regulating Pill, and Mind Clearing Pill. They all looked similar, very rough, and some were even half broken: "[Body Nourishing Pill] (common type) nourishes the body and regulates qi and blood. It can relieve muscle strain, promote wound healing, and is of some benefit to those who are malnourished or overworked."

"[The Breath-Regulating Pill] (common product) unblocks the meridians and harmonizes the breath. It can relieve symptoms of stagnant breath and difficulty breathing, and has a certain effect on those who are in a closed environment for a long time or whose breath is disordered."

"[Qingxin Dan] (common version) calms the mind and soothes the nerves, stabilizing the will and eliminating worries. It can relieve anxiety, palpitations, and insomnia, and is effective for those who are under long-term high pressure or panic. The medicine is mild and its effects are gentle, and it needs to be taken continuously for several days to see results."

"[Nameless Pill] (Residue) A product of failed alchemy. Some medicinal properties remain in the residue, but the composition is mixed, the efficacy is unknown, and it should not be taken."

"The timeline has changed. You have combined your ancestors' Western knowledge with Eastern alchemy to improve a batch of pill formulas. Spacetime fragments +500."

""

Zhang Chang'an quickly placed the iron hook on the shelf, shook his aching wrist, and glanced back.

A whole row of alchemy furnaces and equipment, lined up from one end to the other, numbering at least a dozen.

"Working for this old Deng is frustrating, and my safety is uncertain. Everything else is unpleasant. But there's one advantage: this guy has incredible resources. He gives you whatever you want without batting an eye."

The various alchemical furnaces in front of Zhang Chang'an varied in size and model. Some were fireplace-style like the one in front of him, some were upright cylinders, and some were tower-shaped structures with condenser pipes, but they were all high-power and high-precision products.

This was a force that the warden mobilized in the shortest possible time; their skill levels varied, their effectiveness differed, and most importantly, their strengths differed.

Although it wasn't a furnace he designed, or the one best suited to his Eastern alchemy furnace style, for the time being, these technologically mature alchemical mechanical furnaces were actually more useful to him, a half-baked alchemist with limited skills.

After all, it is manufactured with precise counting, and the temperature control, feeding and discharging can be stably controlled. Even the furnace pressure is marked with a pressure gauge, so there is no need to rely on experience to guess the temperature.

All he had to do was put the materials in in order and watch the dial as he turned the valve.

Although I'm not used to it yet, and it's easy to get distracted while operating it, I still fail.

But this was, after all, his first day practicing alchemy. Even with the partial memory of his ancestors and the experience forcibly grafted over, relying on firing these dozen or so furnaces simultaneously and producing finished products by sheer volume was still the fastest way.

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