The Alchemist's Guide to Flesh and Blood Ascension

The killing intent emanating from the sand armor was gone, replaced by more complex emotions...

"Are you homesick? Are you...sad?" Iseria took a step closer, her expression puzzled. "Isn't this place, Zellharan...your home?"

Seeing that Sha Jia remained silent, she pressed on, "Then... what are you sad about? The caravan you were protecting is still here!"

The armored man remained silent.

"Give it some time. Let's... first deal with those believers and priests who dare not move," Yunefu stretched after a long time and turned to look at the silent members of the ancient church.

The screams and shouts came quickly, and went quickly too...

When the two returned to the sand armor, it finally made a move—picking up a blade of grass that had been cut in half and holding it in its palm as if it were a precious treasure…

Then I watched as the grass turned into dust in an instant.

Or rather, not just this blade of grass, but the entire oasis of Morse...

They are all turning into sand at a visible rate.

"Yonev...it's trembling," Iseria whispered.

"Let me do the thing of pulling down other people's underwear," Yonivo said appropriately, trying to alleviate the post-war silence and oppression.

He stared at the sand armor's visor, cleared his throat, exchanged a glance with Iseria, and then asked, "You... in a sense, don't belong here, right?"

A buzzing sound came from the chest cavity of the sand armor; it was the violent beating of its "heart".

A hoarse, overlapping voice, indistinguishable in gender, crashed into the minds of Yunevo and Iseria.

"Since that's the case..." Its movements became listless, and it plopped down on the sand, kicking the greatsword that had been lying on the ground for a long time a little further away. "You're right, alchemist..."

"I am a sinner in this desert."

In that era known as the "Eternal Oasis," the alchemists and mages of Zelharan were not ostracized, suppressed, or held low status as they are in modern times...

On the contrary, they are the city's arms and the foundation of Vizharan's prosperity.

Two geniuses emerged in the city: an alchemist skilled in "cycles" and a mage with insight into the soul.

They attempted to create something that surpassed the gods.

A scene flashed by.

Before the magnificent altar, two figures stood side by side, surrounded by...

It is an endless expanse of green and a stream that winds its way to the horizon.

They attempted to use alchemy to create an immortal being with limitless potential...

Go and protect the merchants, the ones who initially founded Zelharan, but were persecuted by the monarchy and the church.

That was the starting point of "Sand Armor".

But... the ironclad law of equivalent exchange has never spared anyone.

The key to creating life is more life.

"The moment I was born, the entire oasis..."

"It's like a joke, it's gone."

Yellow sand filled the sky, sweeping away lushness and vitality, and draining the clear springs and streams...

In the center of the sand, a figure clad in dark gold heavy armor slowly materialized.

Its birth originated from the "spark" of two geniuses, which also turned this "eternal oasis" into a "death desert".

Alchemy and magic left a deep, unfathomable scar on the history of the Zerharan people, a scar that lingers whenever the yellow sands blow…

The scars were still throbbing.

But the yellow sands of Zerhalan never cease.

This is both a success and a failure.

To prevent the out-of-control power from completely destroying the entire Zelharan, the alchemist sacrificed his own spiritual power as a "skeleton," and with the mage's aid—a desperate overdraft of spiritual power—...

The souls and bodies of the two, along with the power that destroyed the desert... were locked together within this armor that symbolized "protection".

Shajia knew his origins and remembered every face that had died because of the famine.

It owes this land, and those merchants who were forced to leave their homes, far too much.

This is a debt that can never be repaid.

It slowly raised its head, looked at the merchants who continued on their way, and said in a low voice: "The Church... those greedy newcomers, they only saw the taboo within me, and they want to turn this taboo... into a scepter to rule the world."

"My strength is worn down by time... I can't hold on much longer," it said with a hint of regret, even though it could no longer see the merchants... it still looked in that direction.

Yunefu pinched his cheek, and at this moment, he... had already figured out most of these things.

No wonder the indigenous people resent alchemists and mages so much, no wonder the church went to great lengths to excavate the relics of the saints here...

But what role did he and Iseria play in all of this?

He squinted, recalling what he had heard in the tavern.

Wind, sand, guardianship... this story is not yet over.

"How much longer do you think you can hold on? Be specific," Yonivo asked.

Sha Jia shook his head and said in a low voice, "At least a week, at most a month... I know I'm at my limit."

"But I can't let anyone else see me, and I can't let anyone else know..." Then, it struggled to its feet, slowly regaining its former domineering figure, "I will carve out a trade route here, a golden trade route, an immortal trade route leading to the City of Miracles."

"The City of Miracles...?" Yunefu frowned.

"Hart...the city of alchemists' miracles," it affirmed, "far away, difficult, but I must go."

It looked at Yunevo, its gaze sweeping over the wounds that had healed beyond repair behind his tattered black robe: "You... have the same scent as me, and that same obsession with piecing yourself together into a monster for some purpose."

"But you're different...you'll go very far," it said, tapping its chest with a resounding metallic sound.

"Can you... help me?" Sha Jia looked at the two "outsiders" dressed in black robes. "It won't be for nothing. I... I'll give you a reward."

It tapped its chest, and the golden, spiraling core was faintly visible.

"This thing won't last me much longer..."

“I’m not the kind of person who acts on impulse just because I’m passionate,” Yunefu said, looking at Shajia. “But I think… I still have relatively plenty of time here. In the words of those ‘trading merchants,’ I’ll observe for a while before deciding to invest.”

"So you still have a lot to show us, and also..."

"Would you like some frothing milk pudding?" Yunevo took out the second-to-last serving of frothing milk pudding from his storage bag and handed it to it.