One-Eyed Monster

Stan Sol’s Sharkmon was quite ferocious, hopping around and consuming incessantly, as if it hadn’t had a proper meal in a long time.

”How long has it been since you let him out to stretch his legs? He’s behaving like a starved ghost!” Joela crossed his arms and watched everything unfold.

”Not... time,” Stan Sol responded in his unique way. ”Is... Spirit Power... rare!” The two parties were currently at a ceasefire, joining forces to confront the hidden enemy.

Baharo was puzzled, still not understanding what was happening.

”I never thought we’d actually see the World Setting Technique. Carmello mentioned it before, but I didn’t pay much attention. Now, this lost Alchemy Array stands before me! I feel like my heart is about to burst.” Hector was ecstatic, fascinated by the Alchemy Array; he hadn’t seen one of this caliber in a very long time.

”What a pity this array has ended up so fragmented.” Joela sighed softly, seemingly regretful about the Alchemy Array’s ruin.

As an Alchemist of the Golden Seats, he indeed held a special attachment to every Alchemy Array. Alchemy Arrays are unlike a Wizard’s Spellcraft; they are the result of the joint efforts of every Alchemist, every alchemy apprentice, and even every Alchemy Servant. The resources needed to create an Alchemy Array are enormous. The Alchemical Markers alone require alchemy apprentices and Alchemy Servants to refine them cooperatively. Markers are the most fundamental tools of an Alchemy Workshop. They are not weapons, yet they are comparable to weapons. With these specially refined Markers, those of the Golden Seats could utilize their intellect to continuously create breathtaking Alchemy Arrays.

So, when Joela saw this World Setting Technique array being torn to shreds by the Sharkmon, he couldn’t help but think of the Markers, refined day and night by alchemy apprentices and Alchemy Servants, about to be destroyed...

”The way that Sharkmon devours Spirit Power is truly terrifying,” Brad, who was usually quiet, remarked.

”Spirit Power... special,” Stan Sol emphasized again.

The Sharkmon is not an inherently vicious creature. Even though its food is the Spirit Power from others, it isn’t considered a malevolent monster. Sharkmon are rare, mostly surviving in the territories of the Vero Realm controlled by Water Spirits. Some say Sharkmon are mutated Water Spirits, which is utter nonsense. Water Spirits, no matter the circumstances, would never associate with Sharkmon because Water Spirits are an Alien Species that highly values appearances. Even their outcasts, if placed among humans, would be considered exceptionally beautiful. How could such an Alien Species, so incredibly focused on appearance, associate with a Sharkmon? That beast was willing to change into any form imaginable; it was simply shameless.

Besides, a Sharkmon is, at the end of the day, just a beast. Water Spirits would find them too repulsive to even keep as pets.

The Sharkmon chomped at the area that was simultaneously a cliff draped with Undroppable Vines and a mountain path covered with shrubs. CHOMP. CHOMP. After a short while, the corner that had displayed two sceneries revealed its true form.

It was a large stone, surrounded by a fairly spacious clearing. A few crudely made stone benches, clearly left by Treasure Hunters, were scattered about—obviously a place where they rested when tired from their journeys.

”So, we’ve just been going in circles all this time, and such a small circle at that,” Hector said with a bitter smile upon seeing this.

”What on earth is going on here!” Baharo, for some reason, still couldn’t keep up with the situation and felt rather clueless.

The Sharkmon’s consumption gradually slowed. The illusions that had seemed so real moments ago were now gone, presenting everyone with a hybrid scene of fractured remnants mixed with the actual landscape.

”Has your monster had its fill?” Joela glanced at Stan Sol.

”Spirit Power... special. Needs... digestion.” Stan Sol had mentioned this detail about the Spirit Power being special several times, but no one had paid any mind.

”Hmph, now that it’s eaten and drunk its fill, let it rest on the side. It’s our turn to act.” Joela cracked his knuckles. CRACK! The sharp sounds seemed to announce he was ready.

”Wait, can someone tell me what’s happening?” Baharo jumped out from somewhere, blocking Joela’s path.

”You are not worthy to block my path,” Joela said dismissively. Hector and Brad immediately moved to flank Baharo with clenched fists, looking as if they would attack him if Joela gave the order.

”Seeing as you indirectly helped us find a flaw in our opponent’s setup, we’ll let it slide this time. Hector, you can tell him what happened.”

”Yes, Elder Joela.”

”Brad!” Joela continued to command, ”Join me in destroying the Alchemical Markers.”

”Yes!”

Seeing this, Stan Sol also recalled his Sharkmon. The creature had certainly eaten its fill today; not just a full meal, but a sumptuous feast. This was because the Spirit Power within the Spirit Paintings was unusual, like a blend from two individuals—one abundant and rich, the other meticulous and cautious. This kind of blended Spirit Power was somewhat difficult for the Sharkmon to consume, let alone digest.

Stan Sol gently stroked the Sharkmon’s head, observing the actions of Joela and the others. He couldn’t say for sure if the Sharkmon would need to enter the fray again later.

After all, once the array was broken, they would return to being adversaries.

Even though Baharo and Hector seemed to be chatting amicably now, who knew if they wouldn’t be at each other’s throats again in a moment...

It was Stan Sol’s habit to always remain vigilant, but at this moment, he also felt that matters were becoming increasingly tricky. Take the Sharkmon, for example. It was hard to say if its combat power would surge after a full meal. Some individuals grew stronger after eating their fill, while others became lethargic and lost all will to fight.

”Are you saying we’ll be able to forge our own path and leave soon?” Baharo couldn’t believe what had just transpired.

”Whether you leave or not isn’t for you to decide,” Hector retorted with an upward tilt of his lips, clearly very confident in the Alchemy Workshop’s strength.

”I don’t understand at all. This World Setting Technique, to put it bluntly, only confuses vision. I’m a Hunter; I rely on my Secret Sensing Skills. What I can’t figure out is, could my nose also be deceived by that person behind all this?”

Baharo’s remark was casual, but those who heard it didn’t think so. Clearly, this big fellow had hit upon a suspicious point. It seemed this mountain involved more than just the World Setting Technique.

It looked like forging a path through this fog was not going to be so simple.

Stan Sol watched Joela and the others move with lightning speed and couldn’t help but admire the capabilities of these Alchemists.

Sometimes, awe for an opponent is also a form of vigilance. Only by understanding every detail about your enemy can you defeat them. Perhaps the saying, ’Know thyself, know thy enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles,’ truly captures this principle.

For now, they shared a common goal: to forge their own respective paths forward through this increasingly transparent fog.