City of Gold.

As its name suggested, this was a prosperous city where gold seemed to flow through every street.

It was the most important port in the Land of Sunrise, housing countless alchemical workshops and tens of thousands of Snake People who depended on these establishments for their livelihoods.

Most of the time, these alchemical workshops struggled to recruit enough workers, making a skilled craftsman highly sought after throughout the city.

Although the entire continent of Suinhor might not have as many craftsmen as the Land of Sunrise, the demand in the City of Gold still far exceeded the supply.

This was not an isolated phenomenon but a situation that plagued the entire Land of Sunrise.

The root cause did not lie in the spread of technology, but in deeper issues related to food acquisition and the nature of civilization itself.

While Curled Ball Fern and other subsequently discovered crops had solved the main food problems of Snake People civilization, their yields remained low. Compared to Curled Ball Fern, other plants had even more stringent cultivation requirements.

Whether in the Land of Sunrise or Suinhor, most people still needed to toil in the fields to barely maintain their families’ food supply.

With most people bound to the land, there were naturally not enough craftsmen or other professions.

Only a wealthy and peaceful land like the Land of Sunrise, blessed with fertile soil and divine favor, could support so many artisans.

On the western side of the City of Gold, near the river mouth, a new workshop had recently been established.

Inside the workshop, a group of craftsmen worked busily. They listened to an old man’s instructions as they modified two machines.

One spinning machine, one weaving machine.

Textile technology had been around for several hundred years, since the era of Prince Smerkel, but there had been little improvement on the original methods.

The old man, and the work unfolding in the workshop, aimed to change this by making significant improvements to existing technology.

This workshop specialized in manufacturing these spinning and weaving machines, with plans to sell them throughout the Land of Sunrise and to Suinhor.

The workshop was called Tut Textile Machine Manufacturing Workshop.

That’s right. It belonged to Old Tut.

After returning to the City of Gold, Old Tut first established a textile machine manufacturing workshop. He planned to implement some of his old ideas for improving spinning and weaving machines, rather than directly beginning to restore the Tower Spirit School. He saw these craftsmen as an extension of alchemy and as seeds for future alchemists.

They represented the future.

In the eyes of many alchemists, work like this, which had nothing to do with alchemy, was beneath the dignity of noble alchemists.

However, after growing older, Old Tut felt that those Tower Spirit mysteries, alchemical secrets, and transcendent techniques of bygone eras were nothing but castles in the air.

These seemingly humble and simple things that could change the fate of millions, these technologies that benefited everyone, were what could truly change the world and everyone’s future.

He wanted to start with the simplest things, working on these most fundamental elements step by step to realize those wildest dreams.

Even if he would not be the one to ultimately achieve these dreams, even if he would long be gone by then.

In the workshop’s workspace, the old man tested the wooden machines while checking and guiding the work.

“Widen this here, according to the blueprint,” he instructed.

“This structure has problems.”

“It needs more work.”

Old Tut stood among the craftsmen, looking like just another ordinary artisan.

A young craftsman beside him wiped the sweat from his forehead and finally asked Tut, “Master Tut, are you really a very powerful alchemist?”

Other craftsmen, who had also heard rumors, chimed in. “I heard that Master Tut was quite famous in the City of Gold long ago, a Second-Rank Lower Alchemist.”

Tut looked at the pairs of curious eyes watching him and joked with them.

“Young men,” Tut said, a twinkle in his eye, “decades ago, I was indeed a Lower Alchemist.”

The old man straightened slightly, a hint of pride in his voice, and he glanced at their expressions from the corner of his eye.

Exclamations arose from the crowd, just as he had expected. To them, a Lower Alchemist was already a very powerful existence.

At the same time, they could not help but speculate: if he was a Lower Alchemist decades ago, what was he now?

“Master Tut, you’re amazing!” one exclaimed, their address shifting from “sir” to “master.”

“And now?” another pressed, crowding forward. “You must have broken through to Second-Rank long ago, surely?”

“Could you be Third-Rank now?” Everyone looked at him with worshipful eyes. Alchemists were, after all, objects of admiration and aspiration for everyone in the Land of Sunrise.

Although they did not understand the secrets of alchemy, as craftsmen in the City of Gold, they remembered the ranks of alchemists very clearly.

Old Tut finally gave them his answer. “Now,” he said, “I am still a Lower Alchemist.”

Old Tut sighed, a note of regret in his voice as he lamented life’s circumstances and fate.

“When I was young,” he began, “I only knew how to dream.”

“In my middle age, I only knew how to regret.”

“During my youngest and strongest years, when I was most capable of accomplishing things, I failed to achieve anything.”

“I wasted most of my life. I only hope that in my remaining days, I can do a few things that I find meaningful.”

As he spoke those last words, the old man’s gaze fixed on the spinning machine.

The young craftsman tilted his head. “Meaningful things? You mean these spinning and weaving machines?”

“But you’re a powerful Second-Rank Alchemist,” he pressed.

“Shouldn’t alchemists be creating powerful artifacts, and all kinds of unimaginable, wondrous creations?”

Old Tut nodded. “Exactly. These machines are what I consider meaningful.”

He then asked everyone present, “In this world, what do you think is the most important thing?”

The group of craftsmen looked at each other. They discussed this in low voices, their opinions varied.

Finally, one craftsman stood up and shouted, “The most important thing is definitely having enough to eat!”

Old Tut found this quite reasonable. “And besides having enough to eat?” he asked again.

This time, more people shouted out, “After eating our fill, we naturally need to dress warmly!”

Old Tut nodded. “Exactly,” he said to them.

“Most people in this world still cannot afford proper clothing, and they do not have enough food.”

“I cannot conjure food from thin air. That’s not alchemy, that’s dreaming.”

“But with this machine,” he continued, “I can make cloth more plentiful and affordable.”

“It allows one person to do the work of seven or eight, producing the amount of cloth that seven or eight people could make.”

The old man’s hand rested on the wooden machine. “This machine,” he said, “can allow more people to wear clothes.”

“Do you still think this work lacks meaning?”

When the craftsmen heard Old Tut speak this way, they began to feel completely different about their work.

Originally, they were just working here. Now, however, they felt their work had been given a special meaning.

A new energy filled the craftsmen, and everyone became more efficient.

A few days later, after several revisions, Old Tut’s improved spinning and weaving machines were ready.

That day, even more craftsmen came. Many non-craftsmen also attended, mostly young people from the city, children of its residents. Old Tut did not forbid them from entering.

A female craftsman personally operated the machines, first demonstrating the spinning, then the weaving.

The spinning machine quickly spun Net Rope Vine fibers into thread. The final woven cloth was not only more refined but was also produced several times faster than before.

Although it was crude compared to the legendary divine garments, it was already on par with the fabrics worn by nobles.

“Oh!” The craftsmen cheered, arms raised, as they saw the cloth being produced.

“Success! Success!” People were extremely excited. They felt they had created not just a spinning machine, but something of great significance.

“So fast, and spun so well!” they exclaimed, crowding around one by one to see.

Old Tut stood before the machines and addressed everyone.

“Thank you all!”

“Thank you for your work modifying these two spinning and weaving machines.”

“Your hard work today will become clothing on the bodies of thousands upon thousands of people.”

People shouted, “Master Tut!”

“You’re too kind,” one called out. “This is all your achievement.”

Another added, “It’s your genius ideas that created such convenient spinning and weaving machines.”

People were encountering such a modest and approachable alchemist for the first time, “Exactly, I’ve never seen such a humble alchemist as you.”

Usually, workshops like this were run by alchemical apprentices or servant alchemists.

Second-Rank Alchemists like Old Tut, especially veteran alchemists who mastered numerous alchemical secrets, were among the elite in any alchemical city in the Land of Sunrise.

But Tut sighed. “These were all designed when I was young,” he said, “but I didn’t pay attention to them back then.”

“At that time, I was arrogant and proud.”

“We wanted to pursue higher and stronger alchemy. We aimed to accomplish what our predecessors could not, to unlock one supreme mystery of alchemy after another, and to solve the puzzles they left behind.”

“I never thought that decades later, I would start over here again.”

“However!” The old man’s tone began to shift.

“This is just the beginning. Next, we will create new machines.”

“For example, water-powered spinning machines, and various other machines.”

“I need your help. I need everyone to work together on this.”

The most important part came last. “I will test your talents,” he announced. “Anyone among you who has the aptitude to become an alchemist or an Ability User, I will help and teach you about alchemy.”

The crowd immediately fell silent. No one spoke for a long time.

Finally, the young craftsman from before spoke up, “What if someone has poor talent and can barely become an alchemical apprentice?”

In the Land of Sunrise, most alchemists would not take students unless they were family members. Even alchemists from schools generally selected only those with exceptional talents, individuals who could help them in the future.

Those who seemed capable of becoming alchemists but were unlikely to achieve much, especially those from humble backgrounds without resources, generally had no path to learning.

The old man looked at the young craftsman seriously. “I will teach you all the same,” he said.

“I won’t say something like talent doesn’t matter, but I want to tell you this.”

“Everyone indeed has their own limits.”

“But without exploring, without trying, how can you know where your true limits lie?”

The old man appeared short, aged beyond recognition, and somewhat balding.

But his words were extraordinarily inspiring.

Then, he looked at the other craftsmen.

“Even without talent, just by being an ordinary craftsman, you can still create your own miracles and leave your names in history.”

“You can even surpass powerful alchemists, surpass kings, and surpass mighty Ability Users.”

“Just like these two spinning and weaving machines.”

“I will keep these two original machines forever. I will carve all your names on them. Among all those who benefit from machines based on these two in the future, someone will remember your names.”

Now, the craftsmen looked at the old man differently.

This was exactly what the old man wanted, and he struck while the iron was hot.

“Many of you just mentioned hearing my name.”

“Then you should also have vaguely heard where I come from. Have you heard of the Tower Spirit School?”

Everyone immediately began discussing in low voices, sharing various rumors concerning the Tower Spirit School.

There were positive and negative opinions.

Old Tut said, “The Tower Spirit School is an open school. It passes down knowledge through teacher-student relationships, rather than through traditional family bloodline inheritance.”

“The Tower Spirit School accepts alchemists who share its ideals, and it cultivates alchemists with those same ideals from childhood.”

“No matter your background, you can enter and learn.”

“I was born into a craftsman family, yet I became the chief disciple of the Tower Spirit School at a young age. No one in the school ever looked down on me.”

“This was because I had solved multiple unsolved alchemical puzzles.”

“We don’t ask about background. We ask what you can accomplish.”

The former Tower Spirit School was out of place, even among the various schools of inheritance.

The young craftsman asked Old Tut, “Did your genius ideas come from the Tower Spirit School?”

Old Tut very much liked this kind of question. “Not just that!” he exclaimed.

He then spoke of some former alchemists’ brilliant ideas and amazing concepts.

“The Tower Spirit School once theorized that mental power is also a form of energy. Could this energy be stored and continuously charge artifacts, creating machines that could operate perpetually?”

“For example, alchemical spinning machines that could weave cloth continuously, without human power.”

“The Tower Spirit School also had another theory, one which was its supreme mystery.”

“This theory refers to the two words ‘Tower Spirit’ in our school’s name.”

“It describes a kind of spirit entity, one with wisdom and personality. Such an entity could replace alchemists in controlling and operating entire complex systems. It would be capable of calculation and solving various puzzles.”

“If we could create such a spirit, it alone could replace millions of people. It would be equivalent to a completely self-operating alchemical workshop.”

Old Tut had opened his floodgates of speech. He talked non-stop, completely captivating everyone.

Many alchemists knew the ultimate mysteries and theories of the Tower Spirit School. Most of them scoffed at such fantastical speculations. Of course, over the years, many people had also rushed to join, believing that all of this could be realized.

Now, Old Tut was seeking new people who could solve these puzzles.

In the workshop’s workspace, many Snake People sat cross-legged like students, completely absorbed in his words.

They all believed Old Tut’s words represented the future. This was because of the spinning and weaving machines behind him, and because these two machines would soon bear their names forever.

They believed that technological advancement would surely bring them a beautiful life and future.

Finally, Old Tut ended the discussion with one sentence.

“But all of this,” he stated, “is still just speculation.”

“However, I believe someone will realize these things someday.”

Old Tut paused. His gaze swept over everyone present.

“Perhaps it will be you.”

With that one sentence, he planted seeds in the hearts of many present.

Sometimes, what changes a person’s fate is just something someone says.

You meet a certain person. You hear what they say. Then, you believe it.

That can change everything.

Even if you fail in the end, life is completely different from before.

The day before the Tut Textile Machine Manufacturing Workshop opened, the old man sat in the room behind the workshop, planning its future. He recorded the day’s events and noted those among the listeners whom he considered talented seeds.

Finally, the old man wrote on the first page of his alchemical notes:

“Everyone knows to lift their heads and gaze at the stars in the sky.”

“They all want to grow wings and soar with the wind.”

“But no one looks down to build the ladder to the sky.”

“Because building a ladder is too troublesome and takes too long. Perhaps the ladder cannot be completed even until one’s death.”

“However, not everyone can grow wings, and wind does not come at every moment.”

“Those gifted few who grow wings will ultimately become unrepeatable legends, disappearing into history. Those lucky ones who soar with the wind will eventually fall silent when the wind stops, forgotten by all.”

“They change only themselves, not the world.”

“But if we possess a ladder to the sky, just like the ancient Snake People built the Tower of Heaven in the City of Life, we can all ascend to the sky and touch the stars.”

“In that era, everyone can grow wings, everyone can soar with the wind.”

Tut closed the notebook. When he did, his eyes were completely different.

Relationships between people are mutual.

When you change others, others are also changing you.

When Tut spoke those words, he was influencing others, but he was also telling himself:

“What am I going to do?”

“Why am I doing this?”

“What is the meaning of what I’m doing?”

The moment Tut closed the notebook, he knew.

His heart was incredibly firm.

The Tut Textile Machine Workshop opened. From its very first day, it caused a sensation throughout the city.

Dozens, then hundreds, of merchants poured into the Tut Textile Machine Workshop. They were shocked by the extremely high efficiency of the two spinning and weaving machines.

Amid the sounds of the wooden machines operating, the craftsmen saw in their whirring the rhythm of an era that would revolutionize textile technology.

In the merchants’ eyes, these machines produced the sound of coins flowing.

“This is it! This is wonderful!”

“I want to buy ten units! Ten of each!”

“I want them all!”

“What do you mean there aren’t that many?” a merchant demanded. “When can they be made?”

Old Tut stood on the second floor, watching the scene below.

He did not care about how many units were sold. What he saw was a fire, the fire that would ignite the world.

Business at the Tut Textile Machine Workshop was extraordinarily booming. Orders flowed in continuously, not only from the City of Gold but also from cities like the City of Miracles, Black Fire City, and the City of Lights.

Subsequently, even merchant ships from far-off Suinhor came, ordering machines to take back to various cities in Suinhor.

Compared to the Land of Sunrise, Suinhor had an even greater demand for textiles and cloth.

However, at the same time, imitations began to appear.

But that did not matter.

Old Tut began new experimental projects and research. He started to attempt creating new machines.

Old Tut took several students from among the craftsmen.

He planned to lead these students in research on water-powered spinning machines. Although he already had partial ideas in mind, he hoped to use this project to teach this group of students how to explore the secrets of alchemy and how to correctly view its role.

He even wanted to use this project to revise some of the former Tower Spirit School’s concepts.

A new era, and a new Tower Spirit School, also needed new ideals to guide everyone’s direction forward.

Old Tut brought his students outside the city. He wanted them to see the broad river and the water wheels built beside it.

Water pushed the water wheels, making them turn. The flowing water moved continuously along channels toward distant fields where Curled Ball Fern grew abundantly.

“Water wheels?”

“Teacher Tut,” one asked, “why did you bring us to see these?”

Old Tut told them, “Because I need you to observe the power of water and learn how to apply it through alchemy.”

But the students felt this had nothing to do with alchemy.

“How could this be alchemy?” one student wondered aloud.

“Exactly,” another agreed. “This is just using the power of flowing water.”

Old Tut asked them, “What do you think alchemy is?”

A student answered, “At least it should involve supernatural power, right?”

Old Tut did not answer directly. Instead, he spoke of something else, mentioning another person.

“My good friend Oran is an absolute genius,” Tut began. “He became a Third-Rank Ability User at a very young age. I feel his talent and brilliance surpassed everyone of that era.”

“I even believed he could forge his own Fourth-Rank apostle path through his own power.”

“Although he eventually did possess apostle-level power… but…”

Here, Old Tut suddenly stopped speaking.

He did not continue.

The students, however, were stunned. They were unable to imagine such a person existed in this world.

A Third-Rank Ability User, at an apostle level.

Third-Rank Ability Users already seemed beyond their reach. Apostle level beings, to them, were almost indistinguishable from mortal deities.

Old Tut took out a letter. “He sent me this not long ago,” he said to his students.

“What do you think someone like him believes alchemy to be?”

The students had no way of knowing. They could only prick up their ears and listen as Old Tut continued.

Old Tut opened the letter and read aloud from it.

“Tut,” he began, his voice carrying the weight of Oran’s words.

“In the past, we always tried to understand this world through our own thoughts. We were always thinking we could create everything, always naming everything according to our own ideas, as if we had pioneered everything ourselves.”

“We always thought we could create everything, create the future.”

“But all of this already exists in the world.”

“It’s right there, unchanging, regardless of us.”

“What we do is not create these things, but discover them.”

“We don’t create mysteries. We discover the secrets of this world.”

When Old Tut finished reading, all the students fell into deep thought.

These were, after all, words from a being with apostle-level power.

“Not long ago,” Old Tut said, “I also wrote a passage for myself, as my creed for starting anew.”

The old man repeated the passage again, exactly as he had written it in his notebook before.

“Everyone knows to lift their heads and gaze at the stars in the sky.”

“They all want to grow wings and soar with the wind.”

“But no one looks down to build the ladder to the sky.”

“…”

The old man’s voice was not loud. Yet, to his students, it was like a beam of light, a door leading them to a completely new world, a world that truly belonged to alchemy.

“Just like the ancient Snake People built the Tower of Heaven in the City of Life, we can all ascend to the sky and touch the stars.”

“In that era, everyone can grow wings, everyone can soar with the wind.”

A smile touched Old Tut’s face, a smile of understanding between friends.

“Though Oran and I said different things,” he explained, “we both thought of the same core idea.”

“And so, I want to tell you that alchemy is the secret hidden in this world. Discovering and utilizing these secrets is alchemy.”

Old Tut gave his students an unforgettable lesson before they began their first project.

“I hope you will always remember what Oran and I have said.”

“I hope that one day, you can rebuild this Tower of Heaven.”

“The Tower Spirit School’s former ideal was that we are an open school, welcoming everyone who shares our ideals.”

“I now want to add something to that for you.”

“Alchemy is discovery, not creation.”

Old Tut was extremely serious. “I hope you can be down-to-earth and analyze all the secrets of this world. Take this water, for example. Water can become clouds, rain, rivers, and seas. It possesses endless secrets. It is not something you can underestimate.”

“Or consider this wind. Do you know where wind comes from? Do you know how to create wind?”

“You know nothing of these things. Your eyes only see the application of so-called supernatural power.”

“The supernatural power and divine techniques you admire are just what predecessors created by observing the world.”

“Now, I need you to pioneer new supernatural abilities, to discover new secrets in this world.”

“Those most minute and unremarkable phenomena might contain the ultimate mysteries of this world.”

The former Tower of Heaven was tangible.

But the Tower of Heaven that Old Tut spoke of was intangible.

Yet, its construction was thousands, even tens of thousands, of times more difficult than building a tangible Tower of Heaven.

The students looked at the flowing river again, at the moving water.

Suddenly, they had a different feeling in their hearts.

They developed an infinite curiosity about this world, along with a deep reverence for it.

Old Tut led his students as they began to modify water-powered spinning machines. Each student had different ideas. Old Tut did not say who was right or wrong, but instead let them form different groups for different experiments.

His teaching methods and philosophy were obviously very different from the former Tower Spirit School.

Everything was on the right track, just as Old Tut hoped.

Night fell.

Most people in the textile machine workshop had gone home from work, but some remained.

“It’s not like that.”

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“I think it can be changed this way.”

Tut’s students argued endlessly. Although they worked separately, they still liked to debate, each trying to prove their ideas were better.

After arguing for a long time, one student finally sighed, “It would be great if we could create alchemical artifact-type textile machines.”

Another student shook his head. “Don’t even think about it. Alchemical artifact-type textile machines are beyond what we can create now. Moreover, most alchemical artifacts can only be used briefly. They can’t operate long-term. The power consumption would be unimaginable.”

An even more fantastical idea emerged, “It would be great if we could store mental power as energy to supplement it, like the teacher said.”

The previous student said again, “That’s even more beyond what we can do now.”

With no other option, they could only continue step by step from the basics. “Sigh! Let’s just honestly work on the water-powered one!”

Old Tut looked at the students, busy with several craftsmen in the textile machine workshop’s workspace. A gratified expression touched his face.

He left the workshop and walked along the main road, heading towards the distance.

He planned to go to the Miracle Temple. There, he would spend some money to request the use of the Rainbow Tree’s power to send a letter far away, to his friend Oran.

However, halfway there, numerous cloaked figures suddenly appeared from dark alleys.

Each of them held metal lanterns and wore clothes with special insignia.

“Lantern Bearers?”

Old Tut knew these people. They were the Lantern Bearers, the most elite Ability User squad controlled by the Alchemical Council, specifically deployed to handle the most troublesome matters.

They specialized in combat and, in that regard, were completely incomparable to alchemists like Old Tut.

One of them came before Old Tut. “The Elder wants to see you,” the figure said.

Old Tut asked, “Which Elder?”

But the Lantern Bearer said no more.

City of Lights.

Lamps lit up throughout the Miracle Temple. No expense was spared, even at night, to ensure the entire temple was lavishly illuminated.

Lamplight was proof of divine power. Lamplight was the symbol of the god.

An elder, wearing a white ornate hat, emerged from a dark corridor. He passed a person-height bronze mirror placed on the side of the passage.

This mirror was valuable, even in ordinary people’s eyes.

This was especially true since this mirror was different from ordinary mirrors.

It was polished so smooth that it could clearly reflect even the fine hairs on a person’s face.

When the elder stopped before this bronze mirror, he could not help but pause and look at himself.

In the mirror, he saw himself wearing pure white robes, holding a staff in his hand. His Grand Elder crown was inlaid with supernatural gems.

Just by looking, one could see the tremendous power this person possessed.

He quietly admired his reflection, thinking to himself, “This is the master of the Land of Sunrise, the one who rules over it all.”

He could not help but move closer, wanting to see himself more clearly.

However, when he got closer, he saw that the face in the mirror was so aged.

Beneath the exterior of power and authority lay an ugly, decrepit old Snake Person.

In an instant, the elder’s expression changed.

A surge of anger erupted within him, swift and fierce, like a sudden storm.

He raised his staff and smashed it heavily against the mirror.

Clang!

The bronze mirror shattered into pieces, which scattered all over the ground.

The elder no longer lingered. He walked outside.

At the same time, he kept muttering, “Tower Spirit School.”

“They must know how to plunder others’ talents.”

“I need to change my talent. As long as I have talent, I can gain divine recognition.”

He looked at the lamplight outside, his figure gradually disappearing under the bright lamps.

“I will become an apostle,” he vowed, “the god’s first apostle.”