Chapter 250: Alchemy Factory, Up and Running
With the final screw tightened into the last metal plate, Ambrose pressed the switch on the mana extraction furnace.
Through an intricate magic array, the energy stored within gemstones was converted and funneled into the massive apparatus. One by one, indicator lights flickered to life, and the towering furnace roared fully into operation.
From this moment on, until the day it broke down, the furnace core would run without pause, unstoppable.
Ambrose worked the control panel, flipping a series of switches and inputting several alchemical formulas.
Immediately, hundreds of intake ports began feeding in raw materials. Within minutes, an equal number of output channels started releasing refined liquid compounds.
He had already prepared a bottling line. Before long, potions of every hue filled hundreds of glass containers.
These, however, were not finished products, only base solutions. They still required secondary post-processing and blending to become market-ready potions.
If Ambrose had a second extraction furnace, he could pipe these materials directly into another line and produce finished goods in one go. But such machinery was prohibitively expensive not just to purchase, but to sustain. The mana required for continuous operation was staggering. Building another one would likely bankrupt him.
The sealed base liquids were automatically transported into crates, then carried away by the magical automata Ambrose had constructed. Each shipment was delivered neatly into storage.
Undead labor was unsuitable here. Lesser undead couldn't properly contain the spread of dark magic, risking contamination of the potions. The automata, on the other hand, confined their energy within closed mechanical circuits. Unless the potions were physically damaged, there would be no leakage.
Even these automata were built from materials Ambrose had sweet-talked out of Gustavo Flynn. They were the most basic models, but for simple hauling work, precision wasn't necessary. He just needed enough shock absorption to avoid shattering the fragile glass bottles.
Though lively, this underground factory was nothing compared to the great workshops of Alkhemia.
Ambrose had once seen the central alchemy complex in Alkhemia. There were hundreds of extraction furnaces alone, and over a million automaton constructs working in unison. The sheer scale had made his very soul tremble.
If he had even half the profits from that place...
Still, no matter. Sooner or later, he would build a grand alchemical city of his own, starting from this very dungeon.
The base solutions were sorted and stored. At current production rates, assuming sufficient raw materials, all warehouses would be filled within three months. With secondary post-processing factored in, the timeline could stretch to half a year.
He would need to focus on sales, too—it wasn't enough to simply stockpile potions.
After Harvey's market research, Ambrose decided to focus on two products for the desert.
The first was the standard vitality potion. Its formula was already optimized beyond improvement, leaving no room for cost-cutting innovations. Competing meant seizing market share from existing vendors.
Fortunately, Ambrose had luck on his side. Several distributors had previously relied on Alkhemia. When its leadership collapsed, their supply chains vanished with it. Ambrose had already sent Harvey to negotiate—securing those channels would save considerable time.
The second product was Ambrose's own invention: sunscreen.
Desert dwellers spent their days wrapped in layers. Goggles, scarves, and full-body coverings were stifling under the heat. Without protection, however, most races save for lizardfolk would be scorched raw by the sun.
Sunscreen had undeniable market potential. At the very least, it would allow people to expose their arms and legs for some relief.
Of course, others had already recognized this. Sunscreen existed, but it was exorbitantly priced, a luxury reserved for desert nobility, marketed in high-end variations with different fragrances.
Ambrose aimed for the common market. That meant creating a cheaper alternative.
To do that, he first had to crack the existing formula and improve upon it. For most alchemists, this would take years. Formulas were often deliberately obscured and padded with misleading additives to make replication difficult.
Only something like the vitality potion, studied to exhaustion, had become universally accessible. The market for it was essentially a battle of labor costs.
But Ambrose didn't need years. All he had to do was compile a list of possible ingredients... and roll a few dice.
That was the advantage of being a diviner. Believe in fate, and fate would reward you.
Within days, Ambrose had deciphered most of the sunscreen formula. And in doing so, he discovered why it was so expensive.
One key ingredient was incredibly rare and outrageously priced: mycelid spore powder from the Umbral Depths.
Every year, countless adventurers ventured into that dangerous yet opportunity-filled realm to bring back small quantities of the powder. Supply was scarce, and shortages were not uncommon.
That limitation turned sunscreen into a noble luxury, much like Ambrose's own modified youth elixirs. It was a product for fleecing the rich, not the poor.
The solution was obvious: Black Rose.
If he could secure a steady supply of spore powder, he could mass-produce affordable sunscreen and dominate the market.
As for intellectual property, that was hardly a problem at all. The dwarven kingdom didn't recognize such protections. As long as you weren't outright reselling someone else's product, reverse-engineering was perfectly legal. Ambrose felt no guilt, and no fear of lawsuits.
Since the ingredient came from the Umbral Depths, Black Rose was the obvious person to contact. Taking out his Necromantic Codex, Ambrose prepared to message Black Rose—only to notice the group chat was unusually active.
That was rare. Members of the Elegiac Society were typically reclusive; lively discussions were uncommon.
Scrolling through the messages, Ambrose was surprised to find the center of attention was Heki Stone.
The dwarven vampire had been enthusiastically boasting about his latest research, which had caught the attention of the Poet.
The Elegiac Society took its name from two figures: the Mourner and the Poet.
The Mourner was the president. The other was widely known to be the vice-president, though that wasn't stated anywhere outright.
After reading Heki's extensive research on Arthur Lyon, the Poet responded.
[Poet: A heroic spirit of Arthur Lyon is still extant? Mercy from the Lord of Dawn, perhaps?]
[Human-Hater: Mercy? What do you mean, senior? Considering all that Arthur Lyon achieved... Did he do something wrong?]
[Poet: Are you all unaware? Arthur Lyon couldn't even enter the Lord of Dawn's divine realm after death. His soul has been completely annihilated. That heroic spirit might be the only trace he left behind.]
The revelation stunned the group.
[Dullahan's Crown: What?! How is that possible? Arthur Lyon was the Lord of Dawn's chosen! It wouldn't even have been strange for him to enter the divine realm while alive. How could his soul have been destroyed?]
[Pale Little Skeleton: Exactly! He drove us dragonkind out of the world! Even as an enemy, that level of achievement should guarantee entry!]
Even long-silent members like Mute and Non-Vegetarian joined in, voicing their disbelief.
Ambrose had joined just in time to see the Poet elaborate.
[Poet: I met the kid once. He got drunk and mocked my poetry alongside some elven punk, so I beat them both senseless and locked them up for three days. As punishment, every poem I wrote afterward would imprint directly onto his soul. But later, that imprint disappeared. I could feel that his soul had completely vanished.]
Ambrose didn't even know where to begin.
The "elven punk"... wasn't that the old king of the Court of the Silver Moon?
Arthur Lyon had fought a demigod on equal footing even as a mere heroic spirit. In his prime, he might have surpassed even the Silvermoon Knight.
And yet he and the elven king together had been utterly crushed.
This Poet... might very well be a true god.
A god of the undead? Valarun? No... his personality didn't fit.
Now wasn't the time to dwell on that. Ambrose quickly asked, [Megaman Tiga: Senior, could the Lord of Dawn have removed the imprint?]
[Poet: No. If He had acted, it wouldn't have taken so many years, and I would have sensed the interference. The imprint vanished along with Arthur Lyon's soul. Of that, I am certain. A pity... I was asleep when he died, or I would have investigated.]
The certainty in his tone left little room for doubt.
Undead understood souls better than anyone, and a god of the undead would not be mistaken.
But that only made things more absurd. How could a king of such unmatched merit meet such an end?
If even Arthur Lyon couldn't enter the Lord of Dawn's divine realm, what hope was there for anyone else?
"What exactly did the Lord of Dawn do...? And what happened back then? Could it be related to the dragonblood curse?"
The mystery only deepened. But speculation could wait. Reviving alchemy came first.
Shaking off the distraction, Ambrose exited the group chat and sent a private message to Black Rose.
Her reply came quickly.
[Black Rose: Mycelid spore powder? Which type of mycelid are you looking for?]
That question stumped Ambrose. Were there different kinds?
