Alchemists do not need self-cultivation

"You carry these luggage."

"Get lost."

Isaac refused without hesitation.

It's not that he couldn't lift it; even if all the luggage were on Isaac, he wouldn't feel any weight. But carrying a pile of luggage always felt very strange.

He took out his pocket watch and checked the time; there was still time left before the deadline stated on the invitation.

“I parked the car a kilometer away from the school. If you can carry this luggage a kilometer to my car, I will allow you to bring this much luggage.”

"Waaah..."

Victorica's face puffed up instantly.

"If you can't, adjust your 'minimum baggage' to the minimum, otherwise I'll go on the ship alone, and I'll take this victory."

“Isaac, you…”

Victorique was so angry by Isaac's words that her face turned red, but there was nothing she could do.

She had no choice but to open her suitcase.

"These are all very important things..."

Who brings a chair when they travel?

Isaac pulled a wooden chair out of his huge suitcase.

"Just bring one change of clothes, leave the other fifty sets behind. You don't need the life jacket, I'll pull you out if things really get dangerous. And this is enough snacks for you for a month, just take a little..."

Before Victorique could stop him, Isaac pulled out a bunch of random things.

In the end, only a small suitcase remained with its contents.

"Phew... I'm really curious how you managed to move so much stuff down from the main library."

"You..."

"Ok?"

"Are you recycling scrap metal?!"

"Don't talk nonsense. We'll have someone put these things back where you live."

Isaac picked up his small suitcase and walked forward.

"We can set off now. It will take about an hour to drive from here to the port."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The car was moving on the road.

This car was modified by Isaac using alchemy. Unlike ordinary cars of this era, although it is not visible from the outside, the engine cylinders inside use 21st-century technology and it is an automatic.

The luggage was placed in the trunk, and Victorica sat quietly in the passenger seat.

I thought she would be angry about losing so much luggage, but all her anger vanished the moment she left the house.

She simply opened her emerald green eyes wide in surprise and stared out the window.

Lush greenery covers the majestic landscape of the mountains.

Then, more and more buildings and roads began to appear. Gradually, they transformed into city streets. They had descended the foot of the hill where the school was located and entered the town. Victorica gazed intently at everything before her.

It's like a child stepping out of the house for the first time, curious about everything.

"Be careful, don't stick your head out of the window."

"Isaac, what's that?"

"what?"

Isaac glanced out the window and saw a newsstand.

"Oh, the newspaper seller."

"what is that?"

"department store."

"what about this?"

"Ice cream vendor... By the way, is this your first time going out?"

"..."

Surprisingly, Victorica did not answer the question, though she looked somewhat displeased.

Would you like some ice cream?

"Huh? Is that okay?"

"Judging from your appearance, it's rare for you to come out."

Isaac parked the car on the side of the road, opened the car door and said to the ice cream stand owner, "Boss, one vanilla ice cream, please."

"okay."

The middle-aged owner, wearing an apron, scooped a large spoonful of ice cream from the refrigerator and handed it to Isaac.

"Sir, are you out with your daughter?"

"Where exactly do we look alike?"

"Haha, that's true."

After receiving the ice cream from the shop owner, Isaac handed it to Victoria, paid, and continued driving.

"How...how do you eat this?"

"Try licking it."

"Um……"

Victorica frowned as she looked at the pristine white ice cream, then stuck out her little tongue and licked it.

"It's so cold... but it's quite sweet."

The wide avenue was painted with several lanes, and carriages and cars flowed endlessly. The sidewalks were crowded with people who walked with a familiar pace across the avenue where carriages and cars sped by. They would get into a carriage as soon as it stopped. Luxurious shops lined the sidewalks, their windows displaying fine pastries, elegant dresses, hats, and fans.

As the car drove on, Victorica looked out the window with the same curiosity as before.

She seemed to have never been outside; her curiosity about the outside world was palpable.

The sea is very close here; you can faintly smell the seawater.

At the port, Gurevan was already waiting.

He walked up to Isaac and knocked on the car door as Isaac parked the car.

Isaac rolled down the car window, stuck his head out, and asked, "What's up? Are you coming to pick us up?"

"That's it."

Gurevan smiled, then his expression turned serious.

"We smelled something from that maid earlier. Since she's Arab, we had to find a translator. We didn't get any useful information; she only said one sentence."

"what?"

“She said… ‘This is the box’s revenge.’”

"box?"

Victorique frowned and opened the invitation.

The words 'The Small Garden' were written on it.

"In short, I'll leave this matter alone for now. Remember to contact me if anything happens."

"understood."

……

After leaving Gurevan, the two found the passenger ship using the map on the invitation, by which time the sun had already set. They showed the invitation to the ship, which was moored on the dimly lit shore, and were allowed to board.

Isaac and Victorica seemed to be the last guests. The ship immediately pulled away from the shore and began to move forward, braving the huge roar of the waves.

The large "ueen Berry" written on the ship also identifies it as such.

The Queen Bailey, which appeared in the strange tales of the Kingdom of Suvar.

Chapter 1072: On the Ship

The ship was enormous, and for some reason, its funnel was unusually tall, almost disproportionate to the size of the ship, standing like a black tower in the center of the vessel.

The interior of the ship was pitch black.

The guide, a man with dark, shiny muscles, appeared to be a foreigner. He remained silent, guiding Isaac and Victorique by the light of his lantern.

The waves were quite large at night, and the spray crashed against the boat with a loud roar.

The two entered a dining room with a brand-new, long, narrow dining table and a chandelier. The chandelier was not lit, and the room was dimly lit, or rather, completely dark.

Ten dinner dishes were laid out on the large dining table, steaming hot. Ten dim candlelight flickered in the darkness, just enough to illuminate each person's immediate vicinity.

"Are you deliberately playing mysterious?" Victorique frowned.

"It seems so. By the way, the competition has already begun."

"You're really stubborn."

"Sorry, but when it comes to winning or losing, you have to give it your all, and I really want to win," Isaac said with a smile.

"Don't forget you've already lost one game to me."

"Huh? Where?"

"Just the day before yesterday, I bet you would return to the Kingdom of Suvar."

"……cut."

Let's turn our attention back to the dimly lit dining table.

The dishes, which should have been served in order, from appetizers to main courses, were all arranged on the table, seemingly without the need for servants to attend to them.

In the darkness, nine people were already seated, indicating that dinner had begun, with the clinking of knives and forks echoing throughout.