Warlock Apprentice

Chapter 1371: Section 1372: Witness Ceremony

When the discussion was nearly over, Muse exposed the mechanical armament she was currently working on to Angel.

Indeed, mechanical armaments bore some resemblance to mechas, but compared to the more advanced concept of fully covered and automatically operated mechas, mechanical armaments were more like wearable exoskeletons. This reminded Angel of his own Phantom Limb.

However, after careful comparison, there were differences from the Phantom Limb.

The Phantom Limb belonged to the flesh, the stronger the body, the stronger it itself.

But with mechanical armaments, it was the Alchemist’s technique that made it stronger the better the technology.

In terms of potential alone, Angel felt the Phantom Limb might be superior. However, mechanical armaments had the advantage of simplicity, and they could be enchanted, spell techniques could be solidified… There were various ways to enhance them, and they could be replaced at any time without depleting one’s Magical Core.

In short, while similar to some extent, each had its strengths. In Angel’s view, if physical strength was not taken into account, mechanical armaments, once formed, would definitely outperform when compared to the Phantom Limb.

After Muse had introduced her mechanical armament, she made a request of Angel:

“May I incorporate some of the ideas you’ve spoken of into the mechanical armament I am currently making?”

Muse hesitated for a moment, “Of course, I won’t take advantage of you, and will give you appropriate compensation.”

Angel was taken aback, as what he had said were merely ideas and concepts, far from being realized. If Muse was to implement these ideas, there would be a long road ahead.

Moreover, the thoughts he had expressed had already been shared with Midora, so Angel wasn’t keen on cherishing them as if they were secrets.

Angel nodded, “Of course, that’s fine, and there’s really no need for any kind of compensat…”

“Ahem.” Angel hadn’t finished speaking when Midora suddenly coughed, interrupting him.

Angel looked bemused when Midora gave him a meaningful glance.

Angel nodded, somewhat understanding, and continued, “I am really looking forward to seeing what the mechanical armament will look like after incorporating the mecha concept.”

Muse also noticed Midora’s look, a flash of dark light crossed her eyes, but her expression remained unchanged, “With your mecha concept, it has provided me with new ideas for a project that had long been stagnant. I estimate it won’t take long before the finished product is ready. When it is ready, I will inform you immediately.”

Angel nodded, anticipation apparent in his eyes.

“Similarly, I am very much looking forward to the mecha you spoke of,” said Muse.

However, Angel had no current plans to create a mecha, so faced with Muse’s expectations, he could only give a noncommital smile.

Just as the atmosphere remained fairly congenial, suddenly, a light blue humanoid Spirit emerged from the ground.

“Antonio, what is it?” Muse looked toward the blue-glowing figure whose features were blurred, with only a faint light visible.

Antonio, like a Butler from a noble family, bowed gently to Muse: “My apologies for the interruption, madam, but there are already several ready to leave in the conference room. If you do not arrive soon, the number of members left might not suffice to witness the induction of the new member.”

“Is that so?” Muse pulled out a mechanical pocket watch, checked the time, and muttered, “We’ve only been talking for an hour, what’s the rush?”

Antonio continued calmly, “Yes, madam, you and Mr. Pat have only spoken for an hour. However, an hour before that is when you summoned them. So on average, they have been waiting for more than two hours.”

Muse stood up grumbling, “Fine, let’s call it a day and get this trivial matter over with.”

“That’s not a trivial matter, it’s a Ceremony that has existed since the previous generation.”

“It’s just a formality of a witnessing ceremony, I don’t know why it has to be so formal.” Muse muttered, then turned to Angel, “Come on, though it’s just a formality, it’s still something one must go through.”

Muse walked ahead, while Antonio turned his indistinct face back, nodded at Angel, and then vanished from sight.

Midora then said, “Joining the research institute does indeed require a formality. Muse invited you here for this very reason. Let’s go, the group of Alchemists has been waiting for hours, and they’re probably getting impatient.”

As they spoke, Muse, who was ahead, had already turned the corner and left the Creation Hall.

Angel had thought the conference room was inside the Creation Hall, but Muse led them along a path outside the hall, descending along a wall that was like a cliff.

The zigzag path continued to descend, going below the ground, crossing the Abyss, and then they passed through a well-lit grand door. Angel noticed that beyond the door was an upside-down sky.

It was only upon a closer look that they realized they were already outside the research institute’s towering high rise.

Having crossed the mechanically forged steel arch bridge, they arrived at the Sky Fortress floating in mid-air.

Inside the fortress was a circular hall, and at its center, a long table illuminated by the lights hanging overhead.

Encircling the table was an array of seats arranged like those of a courtroom’s gallery, but at that moment, they were all empty.

“Actually, according to the ceremony process, there would be alchemists attending as observers, but this time Muse made an abrupt decision to have you join the research institute, so we skipped that step,” Midora explained. “Even those ten witnessing members were hastily assembled.”

Muse took his seat at the head of the table, while Angel was arranged to sit opposite him as the guest of honor.

Midora patted Angel on the shoulder and then found her own seat.

It wasn’t until Angel was seated that he noticed there were more than thirty places at the table, yet a third of them were empty.

Looking closer, it seemed that most of the seated figures weren’t real people at all.

All were some kind of illusions.

“It’s not personal. In fact, most members of the research institute are quite lazy and usually attend the witness ceremonies in this manner. Moreover, the ceremony was so sudden this time that even if they had wanted to, many members couldn’t have made it,” said the speaker, a middle-aged woman who was also not real, but an illusion.

She sat closest to Angel, to his right.

Noticing Angel looking over, she smiled and said, “My name is Portia. I work in Potionology on the Airy Hills.”

Angel nodded somewhat reservedly, “I’m called…”

“Angel Pat. I’m very familiar with your name,” Portia said with a smile. “I also watch ‘Glowing City Night Talk.’

As Portia chatted amiably with Angel, he listened, pondering the notion that he had heard her name somewhere before…

“Though many members couldn’t rush back for the ceremony this time due to special reasons, there is one exception,” said Portia, her gaze drifting towards a certain seat at the table, her eyes shimmering with an elusive glow. “Granny decided to attend in person for the first time in a millennium. It seems she has taken quite an interest in you.”

Angel followed Portia’s gaze and was taken aback.

Angel didn’t know the seating hierarchy here, but he figured the closer one was to the head of the table, the higher their status likely was.

At the moment, sitting to Muse’s left was Midora; to his right was the “Granny” Portia had mentioned, and Angel was not at all unfamiliar with her.

It was the Nail Granny he had met not so long ago.

The owner of the Nail Alchemy House!

Perhaps sensing Angel’s gaze, Nail Granny turned her head to look at him, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.

“Nail Granny is also a member of the research institute?”

Portia nodded, “Yes, Granny is not only a formal member but also one of the elder members. She created many glorious works a thousand years ago, but then, due to certain reasons, she secluded herself.”

Angel nodded in understanding. He remembered that when he first met Nail Granny, she had said, “My name? It’s been so long; I’ve forgotten it.”

There was a nostalgia in Nail Granny’s eyes when she spoke those words. It wasn’t that she truly forgot, but that she chose not to speak of it.

Angel didn’t know the story behind Nail Granny’s seclusion, why she no longer wished to mention her past, including her own name. However, seeing this somewhat familiar figure in the research institute did bring a measure of comfort to him.

Having spotted Nail Granny, Angel began to observe the other individuals around the table.

Most of them looked familiar to Angel, all were famed Alchemy Masters from the Southern Domain. Yet unlike Nail Granny or Midora, their attitude toward him was more ambiguous. The looks they gave Angel were more evaluative and curious than overtly friendly or hostile.

Angel couldn’t tell whether they bore him good will or ill.

It seemed Portia noticed Angel’s thoughts, for she explained with a smile, “Those who responded to the Dean’s call have more or less taken their stance and wouldn’t really bother you. The members who might make you uncomfortable haven’t shown up this time.”

As she spoke, Portia’s gaze shifted towards an empty spot in the middle of the long table.

“Do you know who sits there?” Portia didn’t expect an answer from Angel and continued, “Have you heard of the ‘Grafting Maniac’?”