Chapter Two: The Incredible Alchemy

At midnight, after a long reprieve, Victor found himself unable to sleep. Insomnia was rare for him—the last time it had occurred was when he discovered he had crossed into the world of alchemy. He disliked sudden changes, disliked losing control, and yet, once again, he was forced to leave his comfort zone.

Descending the stairs and passing the door to the alchemy chamber, he paused, surprised to find Vesemir still awake, extracting plant essences. His footsteps could not escape the witcher's keen senses.

Without turning, the witcher called out, "Can't sleep, child?"

"Yes, the new environment unsettles me, so I thought I'd walk around. And you... what potion are you making?"

"The witcher's ancestral formula—stamina soup. It enhances the effects of training. I extract it a few hours ahead, and it's best drunk hot before the session. This will be your daily drink from now on." Vesemir spoke airily, but Victor, who understood a bit of alchemy himself, knew that this was genuine care. There was no need to stay up late for him otherwise.

"Thank you," Victor replied, then turned back to his room, laying himself flat and falling asleep.

...

The stamina soup tasted unexpectedly delicious—sweet like fruit juice. Vesemir explained that it was specially improved for Ciri, the mischievous little monkey, back in the day. Paired with cave fungi, it formed the exclusive nutritious breakfast for witcher apprentices.

Training began with the "Trail," a path encircling the ancient fortress of Kaer Morhen, riddled with obstacles. Witchers practiced running and breath control here. To Victor, it was nothing less than a medieval version of a cross-country obstacle course—a perfect exercise for running, jumping, crawling, climbing, and balance, with the significant drawback that its safety measures were also medieval—none at all.

Despite Vesemir introducing it as "the Trail," the books recorded that young witchers had dubbed it the "Killer Path."

Vesemir accompanied him through the entire course. The old man's attentiveness made Victor somewhat embarrassed, feeling it cruel to have a centuries-old grandfather leap and run beside him. Yet, he soon learned that age brought experience; even as Victor was gasping for breath, Vesemir remained perfectly composed.

After a rest, they moved to basic swordsmanship. The practice swords of Kaer Morhen resembled European longswords, half swords with long crossguards. But in his first lesson, Victor didn't touch a sword at all; until lunch, he practiced only the fundamental footwork—hands on hips, feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, stepping forward with either foot, toe pointed at the opponent, rear foot rotated outward about forty-five degrees. Vesemir explained that this stance ensured balance in all directions. Master the footwork first, lest the sword become a distraction.

After lunch, witcher apprentices would normally resume training after a short rest. At Victor's request, though, the afternoon was free for three hours so he could visit the library, then training continued until sunset.

At day's end, having finished dinner, Victor felt utterly exhausted; after cleaning the dishes, he went upstairs, collapsed onto his bed, and slept deeply.

...

Ensuring the blankets were tucked around the boy, Vesemir left the guest room with a smile.

Regarding today's training, Vesemir found it interesting. The boy lacked technique, but his physique was remarkably well-nourished, and his character unexpectedly resolute. Even when breathless and stumbling on the Trail, he never stopped; in sword practice, though drained and unsteady, he persisted to the end. Yet, resilience must be tested. Vesemir thought, in a peaceful environment, a child like this would likely ask for more rest within a week.

...

A month later, Vesemir admitted he had underestimated the boy's potential—a true prodigy from humble origins.

On the Trail, progress was not astonishing, but steady and swift. Now Victor could complete daily exercises without Vesemir's supervision.

In swordsmanship, he had mastered the plow stance and now began training the ox stance—again, not fast but certainly not slow.

In learning, Victor surpassed all. In centuries of life, Vesemir had taught countless unruly children, some with photographic memories, some who skimmed pages in a glance, some who could extrapolate from a single example. Yet, Victor's focus and calm while reading were the rarest of all.

...

After dinner one evening, Vesemir anticipated another quiet night, but Victor did not head straight to the library. Instead, he sought Vesemir out, asking for his help.

"I must first apologize to you, Vesemir," Victor began. "There are still secrets I haven't told you."

Seeing the sincerity in those blue eyes, Vesemir chuckled warmly. "Child, trust is never achieved overnight. You needn't apologize—I understand completely, and it hasn't troubled me. But I'm glad you're willing to trust me more now. So, what do you wish to tell me?"

"I'm an apprentice alchemist."

"Mm... I knew that already. So?"

"After a month referencing these books, I've confirmed that the alchemy I learned differs from what this world knows—in fact, the difference is decisive..."

Vesemir raised a brow.

"By strict definition, what I learned shouldn't be called alchemy, but rather 'Incredible Alchemy.' And I want to see if I can manifest it in this world!"

...

In the alchemy chamber, Vesemir handed Victor the main ingredient for stamina soup, oca-apple, and watched as Victor unhesitatingly tossed it into the cauldron of boiling water.

"The standard process for alchemical potions involves combinations of extraction, grinding, mixing, fermentation, boiling, distillation, filtration, and blackening.

But 'Incredible Alchemy' is a method that uses one's mind as a reference; through 'boiling,' it conceptually synthesizes the added materials.

So all we need is a fire source, a cauldron, a stirring rod, and water enough to cover all ingredients.

It does look a lot like making soup, doesn't it?"

Indeed, there was hardly any difference... Victor said as he threw in plantain leaves, white crape myrtle petals, vervain, dandelion, and berberis fruit, one after another.

He began stirring.

Green, white, red, yellow, blue, ochre herbs tumbled about the rod, the direction and speed of stirring following no pattern, guided only by his heart.

"When stirring, imagine what the finished product should look like—the clearer your vision, the faster it will be done.

For example, I'm making the witcher's stamina soup. After a month of drinking it, I know its effects well, and can discern which ingredients are impurities, so I estimate about an hour to complete.

Just like this, toss in everything, and keep stirring... stirring..."

At this point, Vesemir was tempted to call a halt.

Oca-apple was fine, but too much plantain, too few crape myrtle petals, only the cap needed from ghost mushroom, dandelion should be just the root—yet Victor dumped in the whole plant, and berberis fruit was added without cracking the hard shell.

Yet, recalling the boy's steady performance over the past month—so steady that he seemed almost unlike a child—Vesemir decided Victor must know what he was doing.

...Well, even if this was just a prank, at worst they'd waste some materials. With that thought, Vesemir relaxed and let him continue.

One hour passed. Vesemir watched, wide-eyed, as Victor hummed a strange, lively foreign tune in the dim chamber, repeating "La la la, Demacia," while stirring the jumble into a yellowish mess with a pungent odor.

Suddenly, dazzling rainbow light burst from the cauldron, flashing into his silver-gray cat-like eyes, leaving him stunned.

At that moment, he could not have anticipated that, by a mere slip of attention, he would become an indispensable figure in textbooks centuries later.

...

In the dim alchemy chamber, the rainbow light shone with brilliance. At that instant, as the first witness in history to 'Incredible Alchemy,' Witcher Vesemir could not help but kneel before the cauldron, speechless with awe.

And the sage who brought forth this divine miracle smiled with holiness: "Want to learn? I'll teach you."

This utterance heralded the dawn of modern alchemy—a moment history must remember...

Excerpted from—"Glorious! Incredible Alchemy!"