“My domain?” Percy frowned, not having expected the burly elder’s remark. “But how? It’s not possible to infuse willpower into reagents.”

It was a well-known fact that willpower could only be added to one’s mana while it was being converted to their affinity inside their core. Alchemical ingredients generally didn’t contain any, regardless of their mana type.

Even if a mage possessed the same affinity, trying to consume the ingredients to add willpower to them would be beyond foolish and wouldn’t even work. Feeding raw ingredients into one’s core was harmful and would rob mana of other important properties that allowed it to exist in a stable state outside a person’s body, preventing it from being extracted and used in alchemy later.

This was also why it was impossible for Percy to shape his trollsfury tattoos into runes to amplify or modify their effect.

If there was an exception to the rule, it was that his crystallized mana still contained traces of willpower even after being ground to powder and bonded to elixirs, which was barely enough for him to turn it invisible or incorporeal. The grey dust – and potentially nectar – were the only ingredients where this was possible, because they weren’t harvested from magical plants.

However, Percy had never found any other way to benefit from this minor feature during the brewing process.

Paracelsus shook his head. “That’s mostly correct, yet directly altering reagents isn’t the only potential application of an alchemist’s willpower. If anything, the fact that your domain doesn’t react with the ingredients is a good thing, as it lets you do something different. Have you considered spreading it inside your cauldron to locate or eliminate the solid lumps?”

Percy couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. He genuinely hadn’t thought of that, and he wasn’t even sure why such an obvious thing had escaped his mind. He generally prided himself in his ability to think outside the box, having done a great job finding applications for the knowledge and techniques that his clones had brought back to Remior over the years.

Pondering over the senior alchemist’s suggestion, it didn’t take Percy long to recognize why he had instinctively ignored this approach.

“If it’s that simple, why didn’t I ever see any mention of this in my travels?”

None of the documents or alchemic lessons he had received in the Vault, Atlantis, Felmara, Nephthys’s Sanctuary or anywhere else had so much as hinted at this possibility.

“I’m not surprised.” Paracelsus shrugged before evening out a few creases along the violet fabric on his left shoulder. “Would you ever feel the need to remind a junior alchemist to use their eyes or hands while brewing? Of course not. It’s a bit like that. Using one’s domain isn’t an alchemic principle or some profound technique – just something that comes naturally to a powerful mage.”

Percy wasn’t quite convinced.

“I don’t know about that. Orin had to teach me to use my Mana Sense back when he was mentoring me. I would have probably thought of it at some point, but it could have easily taken years. What’s second nature to a veteran clearly isn’t as obvious to a student.”

“Indeed.” The elder nodded, his blue eyes regarding Percy. “However, there is a fundamental difference. Mana Sense is relevant to a junior alchemist, while domains are reserved for masters. Green-borns rarely bother with alchemy, and Yellow-borns have amassed centuries of experience in brewing or wielding their willpower by the time they reach Violet, so they don’t need anyone to point this out.”

“Violets? What about Blues? They’re more common, younger, and less experienced, so they could probably use the advice,” Percy protested.

“Correct. Sadly, this isn’t applicable to them. While a Blue’s domain is sensitive enough to be used in battle, it doesn’t quite cut it for alchemy. You know as well as I do that the lumps we need to detect are tiny and have to be eliminated swiftly. Let me ask you this: do you recall ever seeing your mentor apply his domain to his brews?”

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Thinking back, Percy couldn’t say that he had.

Not that he’d possessed the means to detect Orin’s domain during his apprenticeship, but Percy guessed that his mentor would have at least mentioned it at some point if it was something that he regularly used.

Like Paracelsus had said, by the time a Blue alchemist advanced to the next grade, they would be accustomed to whipping out their domain for pretty much every little task. In fact, they would hypothesize about this application decades before their actual promotion, giving them yet another reason to look forward to their advancement.

This simply wasn’t something that needed to be taught, generally speaking.

Percy’s situation was unique. He had unexpectedly obtained a Violet-level domain a couple of years ago, with little prior experience at wielding his willpower. Despite skipping centuries of practice as a Blue, he’d still done a decent job finding all sorts of ways to use it – be it in combat, to fly, scan his surroundings, lift heavy objects, suppress a bunch of arrogant elders, scare the occasional foolish wasp away, or draw runes faster – but he’d been too busy to fully explore its potential.

‘I can’t believe Phoebe didn’t bring this up during our little chat,’ he thought, clicking his tongue.

Having observed him for years, there was no way the titaness had missed his deficiency. Clearly, she’d intentionally avoided mentioning it to let him figure it out by himself.

Percy had no idea how long it would have taken him to come up with the idea if Paracelsus hadn’t approached him, but the existence of this trick certainly helped explain Phoebe’s confidence in his alchemy skills.

If he’d reached a brewing yield of sixty-one percent while unknowingly handicapping himself, it meant that he could do even better now that he’d learned about this. Interestingly, it also sounded like precisely the missing piece that he needed to upgrade his Wild Art a second time into something with “Sovereign’s” in its name.

‘It’ll synergize extremely well with the spell,’ he realized, rhythmically tapping his fingers against the wooden lectern in contemplation.

Sorcerer’s Guidance already allowed him to peer a few centimetres beneath the surface of his concoctions as well as somewhat extrapolate what was going on deeper inside the cauldron, but it wasn’t powerful enough to fully map the contents of the spherical container.

Its recent upgrade had improved the situation significantly while also allowing him to predict some of the lumps in advance, yet it wasn’t perfect. Even worse, the spell inevitably grew less effective whenever he switched to a larger cauldron.

His domain wouldn’t solve that entirely, because the information that it would provide him with would be less detailed than the multifaceted images captured by his mutated eyes. However, it was better than nothing. It would hopefully allow him to infer some of the missing information, pushing the boundary of his sight inward and improving the accuracy of his predictions.

On top of that, he could use his domain to interact with the ingredients. His willpower might not react with them in a magical way, but it could still exert a physical force on his concoctions, allowing him to stir them, compress them, or even heat them up through friction. In fact, the unique flavour of his Dead Winter domain would give him the option of cooling the liquid down too – something that the average Violet alchemist probably didn’t have access to.

The enchantments on his cauldron could accomplish all of that, but they were limited to the surface of the tool. Having a second, more flexible way to interact with the ingredients near the centre of the container would add a new dimension to Percy’s craft.

“Thank you for letting me know,” he told Paracelsus, nodding in gratitude. “I’ll work on this between the lectures and the mana-gathering formation that I’m planning to draw around the Fungal Spire.”

Internally, he berated himself for being surprised by the elder’s wisdom. Sure, Percy had a lot of things to teach Remior’s alchemists, but he’d been a fool to underestimate a group of Violets who had been doing this since before his House existed. It only made sense that they would have a couple valuable tips of their own to share.

“Don’t mention it, kid. It’s the least that you deserve after everything you’re doing for us,” the elder replied, his sharp features morphing into a gentle smile as he patted Percy’s shoulder. “About that formation… Orin told us that you’re going to need some manpower from the Guild. When are you planning to start?”

“Today if possible,” Percy said. At the same time, he brushed his hands over his loose equipment, storing everything back inside his seal.

“Already?” Paracelsus asked, creasing his brow. “You’ve barely returned to the settlement.”

“Well, I’m not tired. The sooner we start, the sooner we can increase the mana density around here. But I can wait another day or two if you need more time to prepare.”

The Violet shook his head. “It’s fine. If you’re sure that you don’t mind jumping straight into more work, I’ll send a bunch of people your way later.”

Percy nodded. He didn’t know how long exactly it would take the clones in the Vault to return, but he’d rather get everything else done by then. Between the wasps, the Guild, and his own alchemy, he’d already wasted a lot of time that could have been spent on his artificial advancement.

Of course, a year or two were hardly worth mentioning compared to his current lifespan, and everything that he’d done in the Fungal Spire was necessary for both his own growth and the development of Remior as a whole, but he was itching to switch back to more interesting projects.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep