What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

In the depths of the Arend Island Labyrinth, at the Magical Beast Raising Grounds, Leon stood with his hands clasped behind his back atop a hastily erected raised platform, supervising everyone as they cleaned the Labyrinth.

“Move it, you lot!” Simon, acting as Supervisor, patrolled between several Breeding Pools, clapping his hands as he urged his subordinates on. “Clean out all the feed buckets properly—don’t let anyone see any bloodstains! Nain, is Breeding Pool Number Six rinsed clean yet? I can still smell something foul!!”

After quite a while, Simon walked beneath the platform, raised his head, and respectfully reported to Leon, “Mr. Fenrir, the cleanup is expected to be completed in another fifteen minutes.”

“Very good.” Leon glanced at his pocket watch. There were still roughly two hours before the agreed time.

Just yesterday, a confidential letter had been delivered to one of his contact points in River Valley County. It was from Bishop Becket, informing him that the person sent by the Earl to conduct the inspection would arrive at the pier of Arend Island at precisely ten in the morning today, and instructing him to clear the area on time to receive them.

To that end, Leon had sealed off the pier a day in advance, increased the stationed personnel on the island, conducted a thorough cleanup and reorganization of the Labyrinth area, and reinforced the railings of the Breeding Pools.

Leon descended the steps of the platform, walked along the path between the Breeding Pools, and entered the Temple. Rena was tidying instruments between the Experimental Tables.

Leon shifted his attention to the Hidden Chamber. After completing the ritual of the Hidden Chamber once, Leon had discovered that, as the Lord of the Labyrinth, he could control the chamber’s door at will with his thoughts, opening or sealing it at any time. He could also sense the conditions inside.

At present, only that Shapeshifter remained within the Hidden Chamber, transformed into a drifting mass of smoke-like black mana. Leon had not killed the Shapeshifter generated by the chamber, but had instead kept it alive for the time being.

Shapeshifter was in fact a general and colloquial term for many Magical Beasts. Any Magical Beast capable of transforming into other forms—including humans—or creating illusions could be called a Shapeshifter.

The Shapeshifter in their Hidden Chamber, however, was academically known as a “Phantom.” It was a special Magical Beast that could not reproduce on its own and was entirely generated by the Labyrinth’s mana. Kept within the Labyrinth, it required neither food nor water, needing only to absorb the surrounding mana to survive indefinitely.

There was no need to let the inspectors see this Hidden Chamber or the Shapeshifter within. Any information concerning his identity as the Lord of the Labyrinth and his Witch’s Blessing was not something he intended to disclose. At present, only Rena knew his secret.

“Have all the Third-Level Magical Beasts been secured?” Leon asked Rena.

“Yes. They’ve all been moved into the caves carved into the mountainside. We stacked crates outside—no one can see them,” Rena replied.

The Demonic Wolves acting as guards, as well as the Petrifying Lizards hatched during his earlier experiments with the Lord of the Labyrinth’s power, had also been hidden away under Rena’s control.

Although the Demonic Wolves followed Rena’s commands completely, they might still display stress reactions if provoked. During the inspection, any number of unforeseen incidents could occur.

On the other hand, Leon did not wish the Earl’s side to know that he possessed the capability to raise Third-Level Magical Beasts on a large scale.

If high-level Magical Beasts such as Demonic Wolves and Petrifying Lizards were raised in large numbers, the average purity and output of mana could be further increased, and the variety of Magical Potions could be expanded. The Earl would certainly take interest in that.

At present, by increasing manpower and enlarging the size of the Breeding Pools, raising low-level Magical Beasts no longer required Rena to use the power of the Blood Pact to control them.

However, if Third-Level Magical Beasts were raised on a large scale, Rena would have to periodically feed them blood to maintain order. Given their size, the amount of blood required would be considerable—a tremendous burden on Rena.

Leon had no intention of expanding production scale or profits. It was better that the Earl’s side remained unaware that they even had such capabilities. Likewise, Rena’s abilities in her Succubus form were not information that needed to be known by outsiders.

“During the inspection, should I avoid being present?” Rena asked Leon.

“Carry on working here as usual. Just cover your face so they don’t see it. The key focus of this so-called inspection is here. They say they want to help us improve our techniques, but they’re likely observing our operational model and considering replicating it elsewhere,” Leon said.

He had already verified for the Earl the feasibility of producing mana within the Empire. If the Earl wished to replicate this model, Leon did not particularly care.

Leon helped Rena tidy the Workshop a little more, confirmed the time one last time, and then set off from the Labyrinth toward the pier.

As ten o’clock approached, he stood at the lighthouse with his subordinates, gazing out over the sea. He soon spotted the armed cargo ship sailing straight toward them. Just as agreed beforehand, the ship flew the family crest banner of the Earl Foyle.

The inspectors were punctual.

“Prepare,” Leon commanded his subordinates to form up at the pier according to the rehearsed ceremony.

Leon himself walked onto the jetty of the pier and waited with his cane planted before him, standing upright in the sea breeze.

As the ship drew closer, Leon realized it was even larger than he had imagined. There were eighteen gunports arranged in rows along its sides.

As it neared the pier, Leon even worried that the extended jetty might be shattered by the massive vessel.

Fortunately, the cargo ship approached steadily and cast anchor. Sailors disembarked in small boats, climbed onto the pier, and secured thick ropes to fasten the ship in place.

Afterward, a wooden gangplank was brought over and set between the deck and the jetty.

Leon finally saw the person who had come to conduct the inspection slowly walking down from the deck. It was a young woman with her long hair coiled up. She appeared about his age—perhaps a few years older. She wore a long dress with gold as its base color, layered with a black sheer outer garment.

She descended the gangplank with her chin slightly raised. A tall woman in formal knight attire followed behind her, seemingly acting as her attendant and protector.

As the woman descended, her gaze met Leon’s on the jetty.

After examining Leon for a moment, she raised her hand and tossed a gold coin toward him. Leon caught it and glanced at it. The coin bore not the royal shield of imperial gold coins, but a sun—the family crest of the Earl Foyle.

Within the Empire, the Earl Foyle was not merely licensed to operate banks; he was also one of the few lords granted the right to mint coinage. This was the gold coin issued within his territory.

Yet this coin was different. At the very center of the sun emblem, a vivid red had been painted.

This was the token Bishop Becket had mentioned in his letter, meant to verify the inspector’s identity.

“Thank you for making the journey personally, Miss Ophelia,” Leon said, pocketing the token and lifting his head to greet the woman descending the gangplank.

Bishop Becket had not disclosed the inspector’s full name in his letter, instructing him only to address her as “Miss Ophelia.”

Among the cadres of the Earl’s forces known to Leon, there was no such woman. Yet the fact that the Earl had personally dispatched her for this inspection indicated great trust.

Both the Earl and Bishop Becket had been reticent about her identity, but upon seeing her face, Leon already had some understanding.

Her brows and eyes bore a strong resemblance to the Earl.

Ophelia did not immediately respond to Leon’s greeting. When she reached the end of the gangplank and was about to step onto the jetty, she paused and extended her hand toward Leon.

Leon reacted, stepping forward to take her hand and assist her down the final steps.

He released her hand afterward, but Ophelia did not withdraw hers. Instead, she turned to look at him, raised her brows, and revealed a puzzled smile.

“No one ever taught you how to perform a hand-kiss, Mr. Fenrir?” she asked.

Leon showed a somewhat embarrassed expression. He then gently took Ophelia’s hand again and, somewhat unskillfully, bent down to press a kiss to her fingertips.

Ophelia covered her mouth and laughed softly, then said to Leon, “Thank you for personally coming to receive me.”

“The honor is mine,” Leon replied.

“Where is the Labyrinth?” Ophelia asked directly.

“From here, it’s about half an hour by carriage into the mountains. The carriage is ready. This way, please,” Leon gestured for Ophelia to proceed.

Ophelia boarded the carriage. Just as Leon was about to ride alongside on horseback, Ophelia called out from inside, “Aren’t you coming in?”

“If you don’t mind.” Leon dismounted and stepped into the carriage, glancing at the older female attendant who remained standing outside.

He had assumed the attendant would accompany Ophelia inside, but to his surprise, Ophelia waved her off. The attendant closed the carriage door and mounted Leon’s horse instead, preparing to travel alongside the carriage.

Only Leon and Ophelia remained inside the carriage.

As the convoy began to move, Ophelia sat opposite Leon with her arms folded, continuously studying his face.

“Miss Ophelia, would you like me to brief you on the situation within the Labyrinth in advance?” Leon took the initiative to start a conversation.

“No need. I’ll see for myself when we arrive.” Ophelia continued staring at his face. Her gaze was not particularly interested, but neither was it cold. “Mr. Fenrir, have you guessed my identity?”

“You mean your relationship with the Earl Foyle?” Leon countered.

“You’ve already figured it out?” Ophelia raised a brow.

“Your eyes resemble the Earl’s,” Leon nodded.

Looking at Ophelia’s overall appearance alone, she could not be said to closely resemble the Earl.

But given the hints laid by the Earl and Bishop Becket, Leon had already suspected such a possibility. Viewing her with that premise in mind, it became easy to discern their similarities.

“If you can guess who my father is, then you should also be able to guess who my mother is, right? After all, you’re one of the few who knows of my father’s past,” Ophelia said with a smile.

“Yes.” Leon nodded again.

Publicly, the Earl Foyle had only two sons, born to his legitimate wife whom he married after gaining his title fifteen years ago. His eldest son was only fourteen this year.

Ophelia appeared to be in her twenties. If she was indeed the Earl’s daughter, she was clearly not born of the current Countess. Moreover, the Earl had mentioned that she had been raised under the Great Witch at a Witch Gathering. She was most likely a Witch herself.

In other words, she was likely the daughter of the Earl Foyle and the Witch who had sacrificed herself twenty years ago.