Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

"Hey, Kenneth, zaima?" He shouted lazily, moving closer to the statue, his soles making a slight echo on the ground. "Do you think this statue is Inti's? I think it looks very similar."

The light from the skylight hit the shoulders of the Inti statue, casting a mysterious halo over it. Xing Qingji walked up to the statue, but his eyes didn't lock on it. Instead, he bent down and dipped his fingers into the cornmeal scattered beside it.

"Hmm...hmm...you're asking me if I can sense spirits?" He vaguely responded to Kenneth's question while observing the cornmeal on his fingers. Then he lowered his head and licked his fingertips, a slightly smug smile on his face. "Just like the situation in the temple, there's no spirit on the statue—"

"--but there is on the sacrifice," he licked the cornmeal on his fingers again and smacked his lips, "the characteristics of this spirit are very similar to the ones we encountered in the village before, and the spiritual characteristics on the sacrifices we received at last year's Sun Festival." "Well... I don't think you need to come back for the time being," he continued through empathy while observing the statue, "how about this, you stay in the village for another night, observe their sacrificial process carefully and then tell me, I will see if I can replicate it here--"

"—If it can be successfully replicated, it means the temple is not a necessary element of the ritual."

After saying this, Xing Qingyu blinked, and the glow in his left eye suddenly went out. He temporarily severed his empathic connection with Kenneth. Although he could use split thinking to prevent the empathic magic from affecting his actions, it still had some impact on Kenneth.

"Come on, come on, sweetheart, it's time to get up." Xing Qingqiu turned around, glanced around casually, and walked out of the room. When he returned, he had a chair in his hands. He walked straight towards Isidro and dragged the chair over with him, making a harsh mopping sound.

He bent down, picked up Isidro's body, and threw him onto the chair like a sack. Then, he expertly tied the old man's hands behind his back to the chair and tied them tightly with a rope to ensure that he could not move.

"Let me see," he said, standing in front of Isidro, tapping his fingers on the back of the chair, "what I can get out of you later."

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I secretly wrote for a while on my phone while I was at work today, so I can update it earlier.

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Volume 12: Endosymbiosis: . I can't possibly tell you anything ahhhhhhhhhhhh

"I can't possibly tell you anything uh ...

Before Isidro could finish his words, a torrent of screams erupted, filling the room like a torrent. The sound felt like a knife piercing the eardrums, ripping the silence apart. The heart-wrenching, lung-shattering wail echoed through the small room, like the helpless struggle of prey gripped by a beast, pounding against the walls again and again, the sound bouncing back, becoming increasingly harsh and desperate.

Isidro's body began to convulse violently and uncontrollably, as if a taut bowstring had been snapped. His limbs twisted erratically, his muscles contracting rhythmically as if under an overload of electricity. His entire posture felt as if gripped by an invisible hand, cruelly tugging at every nerve. His face turned pale with agony, his skin covered in sweat from the electrical current. It was as if every drop of moisture in his body had been forced out by the shock, flowing down his forehead, neck, and back, finally dripping onto the cold concrete floor with a subtle "snap."

Isidro's breathing became rapid and erratic, his chest heaving violently. Every breath he took seemed like a desperate struggle against suffocation. His eyes were bloodshot from the pain, his gaze vacant and lifeless, a mixture of fear and resentment. His hands were tied behind the back of the chair, his knuckles white, clenched stiffly, as if grasping at a non-existent straw in despair.

"Are you going to confess, or not?" Xing Qingqu stood beside him. With a light touch of his fingers, the two wires in his hands intersected once again. With a sharp crackle of electricity, sparks danced in the air, and a flash of lightning briefly pierced the dim room, instantly illuminating Isidro's contorted face. His body shuddered violently, as if every muscle in his body was burning. He let out a tearing scream, and his entire body suddenly leaned back, the chair legs hitting the ground with a teeth-grinding "squeak."

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you..." Isidro finally couldn't bear it anymore, his voice hoarse, as if he was about to collapse from the agony. He gasped desperately, as if trying to find some relief, but his throat felt like it was burning, and almost every breath was accompanied by a staccato groan. After a few weak gasps, he raised his head, his lips trembling.

"Fuck you! All the magicians in Europe deserve to be fucked, ugh ...

"How many times have I told you this?" Xing Qingfeng said impatiently. "Do you really think you're a good person? I didn't start to attack you until half the day had passed and the sun was almost setting. Do you really think I'm easy to talk to?"

"Fuck you! If you'd only attacked the magician, I could have considered it self-defense and we could even have a drink together," Xing Qingjiu said disdainfully. "But how many of those disappearances of foreign tourists that have occurred so frequently throughout Peru over the past decade or so, dare you say, have nothing to do with you?"

"The fucking Euros are dead, so they're dead, ahh ...

As Isidro finished speaking, pain washed over him like a hurricane. Xing Qingqiu clashed the two wires in his hands, and a sharp crackling sound instantly filled the room. The electricity coursed through Isidro's body like a ferocious beast. His back arched, his limbs twitching in agony. His skin flushed crimson from the intense current, and sweat, mixed with the blood seeping from beneath his skin, streamed down his contorted face.

A pungent, burning smell began to fill the air, like the scent of skin burned by electric shocks mixed with profuse sweat. Isidro's eyes were bloodshot with agony, his face twisted like cracked earth, every muscle fiber completely losing control from the shock. His jaw clenched in agony, but he couldn't suppress the screams that erupted from the depths of his throat, a shrill wail that echoed throughout the cramped room.

"Come on, explain all this to me first." Xing Qingqi looked up at him impatiently, the wire in his hand dangling gently. "Don't f*cking underestimate my psychic magic. I've almost confirmed that most of the missing tourists in recent years are related to you. Tell me clearly where you've been. Got it?"

Isidro trembled, his facial muscles stiff with pain, his breath rumbling like a worn bellows. His eyes trembled slightly, bloodshot whites tinged with despair as he tried to regain some sanity from the abyss of pain. His throat was dry and hoarse, "Have I violated the mysterious First Principle?"

"No." Xing Qingqi replied indifferently, his fingers casually fiddling with the wires in his hand. "You even did it quite beautifully. You hid it perfectly. There's no way to prove it was you without using magic."

"Then why the fuck are you asking your mom? Why did I kill some white pigs? Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah——!"

Xing Qingyu didn't even wait for him to finish his words before the electric current shot through Isidro's body once again. This time, he almost bounced off his chair, the veins on his neck exposed, and his eyes were bloodshot, looking like they were about to burst from their sockets.

"Fuck you, I'm disgusted by magicians who don't treat ordinary people as human beings," Xing Qingwu spat in disgust, his voice full of contempt.

Xing Qingyu stood before Isidro, his head lowered slightly, coldly looking down at the tortured old man, his body twitching. "I'm not going to ask you about your magic secrets right now. I don't have the time—" As he spoke, the wire in his hand trembled slightly, and sparks burst through the air again.

"I just want to ask you one fucking question—"

"-Where the hell did you take those tourists?" He moved slightly closer, his voice very low, with a bone-chilling chill.

"I'll sacrifice those white pigs to death." A sinister smile flashed across Isidro's face. Even though his body was still shaking violently from the aftermath of the electric shock, he still spoke disdainfully, "What? You have an objection?"

"Damn it! Half of my magic circuits are blocked." His laughter was low and hoarse, with a hint of madness and distortion. "If I don't eat a few people, do you think I'm gifted?"

"Don't you know what the white pigs did to the people of this land in the past?" He gritted his teeth, his voice trembling slightly, "How can I eat a few white pigs now? Ugh!!"

"Damn it," Xing Qingqi put away the wire with disdain, looking at Isidro who was completely unconscious in front of him. He was just about to raise his hand to wake him up and treat his injuries to avoid being electrocuted, but he was interrupted by Weber who came in pushing a wheelchair.

"Mr. Xing," Waver said, pushing his wheelchair towards Xing Qingjiu, carrying a stack of documents, "El-Melloi has thoroughly investigated every magician in this area."

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I originally planned to update one more 4k post, but it’s already past o’clock when I was writing, and I have to rush to a night show tonight. I didn’t sleep much yesterday, so I can’t stay up any longer today...

Sorry, I wanted to update more but I couldn't get even one update.

In short, uh, I hope you can cast more free recommendation votes, thank you!

The above is a new book by a new author. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

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By the way, I recommend this book, "The Right Way to Travel Through Pokémon". According to the reviews and some comments, it is very good. If you are interested, you can go and read it.

Volume 13: Endosymbiosis: . The missing decisive variable

"Huh?" Xing Qingqiu stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Weber. He raised an eyebrow and casually took the stack of documents, his tone a bit teasing, "The El-Melloi family is actually willing to use a fax machine?"

"Haha, actually, I started accepting these new technologies quite early on." Waver chuckled softly and slowly pushed his wheelchair closer to the edge of the table. "You haven't paid much attention to the Clock Tower, so you may not have noticed."

"Oh?" Xing Qingfeng asked casually as he flipped through the documents in his hand, "When did you become so open-minded?"

"Actually, a few years ago, both the El-Melloi School and the Archibald family, under Mr. Kenneth's instructions, have gradually moved closer to the Democratic Party," Waver explained softly. "Now, rather than being nominally aristocratic, they're more like neutrals."

Xing Qingfeng listened to Weber's explanation, nodding occasionally, but he didn't stop flipping through the papers. In the dim room, the only sounds were the rustling of his hands and the gentle rolling of Weber's wheelchair.

"Hmm? Wait a minute." Xing Qingyu suddenly stopped flipping through the information, his eyes becoming slightly more serious. He pointed at a page of information and asked with a frown, "Is this guy's family also a European magic family?"

"That's right." Weber nodded, taking over Xing Qingjiu's words and explaining seriously, "Their original family is the De Valdés family in Spain. In the 16th century, the De Valdés family was very keen on colonial activities."

"But almost all of the de Valdés family's overseas branches gradually withered away due to acclimatization issues. It can be said that this branch is their last remaining colonial branch."

Xing Qingyu listened, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He continued to browse the materials in his hand as he listened to Weber's narration, his eyes quickly scanning the boring family history and magical lineage information.

"And about a hundred years ago, this branch of the family completely severed ties with the main family," Waver continued, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "This incident is quite famous in the magic world—"

"—Originally a well-established magic family, they chose to send a large number of their talents abroad to colonize, but due to various reasons, their branches declined."

"They originally planned to have the branches plunder resources in the colonies and return them to the main family. However, almost all of them quickly withered due to poor acclimatization or mismanagement. Ultimately, their plan completely failed. It can be said that they had nothing to gain."

"And precisely because they sent so many of their talents abroad, the main family gradually declined. What was once a powerful family in Spain is now reduced to a third-rate family, guarding its own sacred land." Waver spread his hands and said in a relaxed tone, "They can be said to have taught the entire magic world a lesson."

"Really?" Xing Qingqi nodded, flipping through the information in his hand with a calm expression. But suddenly, he stopped, his eyes fixed on a certain line of text, and raised his eyebrows slightly. "Hey, wait, magic families usually don't marry outsiders, right? Even if they do, they try to find someone with magical talent, right?"

"That's right." Weber pushed his wheelchair and stopped beside Xing Qingyu, nodding seriously in response. "Marriages between magic families are mostly to maintain the purity of the magic circuit. After all, pure-blooded magic families usually have better qualifications."

"Heh, that's quite interesting." Xing Qingqi's lips curled up in a subtle smile. He put the information down and took another look at the unconscious Isidro, scrutinizing the old man's features closely. The old man's skin was pale, his hair color typical of Spanish descent, and his face showed no trace of mixed blood. "This guy claims to be pure-blooded Spanish, but he seems to enjoy calling me 'white pig' all the time."

"Hmm... this is a bit off." Weber glanced at Isidro and frowned slightly, noticing the contradiction. "Is this cultural anti-colonial sentiment? That's not right. Anti-colonial sentiment usually only appears among native people. This old man is European. Can he still wash his identity by relying on cultural recognition?"

Cultural anti-colonial sentiment refers to resistance and opposition to colonialism and its legacy at the cultural and ideological levels. It is not only a political opposition, but also a preservation and reconstruction of cultural identity, manifested in a renewed recognition of one's own culture and a rejection of the imposition of foreign cultures.

"...Hiss, wait, something's wrong..."

"What's wrong?" Xing Qingyu keenly caught the change in Weber's expression and looked up at him.

"I remember it clearly." Waver's voice grew serious, his fingers tapping unconsciously on his knees. "He said before that his magic circuits were clogged, so he decided to perform a blood sacrifice on those European tourists. That sounds reasonable. After all, they are more closely related by blood, and using European blood sacrifices would indeed be more effective in alleviating the problem of acclimatization."

"But... I remember him explicitly mentioning during one of his phone calls that he wasn't up to the blood sacrifice." Waver's tone became a little hesitant. He thought for a moment before continuing, "I remember he specifically mocked the Mexican magician after the call, saying they were just a bunch of barbarians who only knew how to perform blood sacrifices."

"So," Xing Qingqiu kept looking at Isidro, "this guy is contradicting himself."

"That's right." Waver nodded. "From our private conversations, it seems his aversion to blood sacrifice comes from the heart. It's not a disguise or an exaggeration, but a subconscious aversion. So... his claim that he used blood sacrifice to solve the circuit blockage is probably false."

"Hmm... so," Xing Qingfeng nodded, "do you think there's a chance those missing tourists are still alive?"

Weber didn't answer immediately. He frowned, pondered for a moment, then gently closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm afraid it's not very optimistic. Even if he didn't sacrifice these people for other purposes..." Weber hesitated and continued, "Their situation probably wouldn't be much better."

Xing Qingqiu was silent for a moment. He stood in the dim room, looking down at Isidro who was tied to the chair.

"Forget it." Xing Qingyu waved his hand gently, as if trying to shake off the lingering disgust in his heart. He tutted coldly, turned and walked to the corner of the room, carefully rolling up the wires that were tangled on the ground.

"You should rest first, Weber." Xing Qingqi glanced at the wheelchair that Weber was pushing. "I will continue investigating these matters tonight and try this old man tomorrow."

As he spoke, the setting sun gradually sank below the horizon, and darkness crept in. Xing Qingqi casually snapped his fingers, a crisp sound echoing through the silent room. The faint moisture in the air was instantly gathered by magic. He precisely electrolyzed the water, igniting hydrogen. Then, a tiny but bright flame rose from his palm, illuminating the dim room for Weber.

But just as they were about to leave the room together, Xing Qingjiu suddenly stopped. His gaze suddenly turned to the corner of the room. The statue of Inti, enshrined on the stone platform, was covered in fine powder.

——That was the cornmeal used for sacrifice that Weber had knocked to the ground earlier.

Xing Qingwu's eyes became sharp!

His nonchalant attitude vanished instantly. Xing Qingfeng frowned and slowly approached the statue, his eyes fixed on the pile of cornmeal.

——Even though the sun has set, a faint spiritual aura still lingers on the offerings, which has not completely dissipated with the disappearance of the light.

"Kenneth, can you hear me?" Xing Qingqiu's left eye lit up slightly, a gem-like radiance emanating from his pupil. "Confirm again, will the offerings in the temple dissipate synchronously with the setting sun?"

"Is that so..." He crouched down, his fingers lightly tracing the ground as he carefully gathered the fine cornmeal. "Even the temple couldn't maintain its spirituality, yet the offerings here are still preserved... While the spirituality isn't as strong as the corn from the Sun Festival, the cornmeal here is closer in nature."

He stood up, the cornmeal in his hand gleaming slightly in the firelight. Xing Qingfeng carefully put the cornmeal away, thought for a moment, and said, "Kenneth, try to understand the sacrificial process over there as much as you can—"

As he spoke, Xing Qingqiu turned and walked outside. Night had already fallen. The outline of the distant mountains was faintly visible in the darkness, and the chill in the air was becoming increasingly oppressive. He looked up at the horizon, and after confirming that the sun had completely sunk below the horizon, he slowly said:

"—I'll try to replicate it here tomorrow when the sun rises."

The next morning, a thin mist shrouded the mountains, and the air was filled with a hint of damp chill. The sky had not yet fully brightened, and the distant mountains were faintly visible in the dim light. The sunlight only faintly penetrated the outline of the mountains, far from filling the earth.

At this moment, the faint morning light filtered through the skylight, falling precisely on the statue of Inti in the center of the room, like a natural spotlight. The skylight's unique design seemed to focus the light on the statue no matter the angle from which it struck.

Xing Qingfu sat cross-legged before the statue, his gaze focused and calm, his hand tightly clutching the cornmeal he had prepared the previous night. The light emanating from his left eye, like a gem, flickered in the dim room. As the morning chill settled upon him, he took a deep breath, slowly knelt, his hands firmly placed on his knees, and began to prepare for the sacrifice.

Originally, daily sacrifices were simplified, without such a complicated process. Last night, Kenneth specifically consulted the village chief about the complete sacrificial process used during festivals, and Xing Qingfeng chose to use the complete sacrificial process used during festivals.

Festivals represent the extraordinary in the everyday, symbolizing the singularity of ending, revival, and a fresh start. Whether creating or destroying, the accumulated anomaly will aid magic.

He first took the clay plate that had been repaired the previous night. There were a few tiny cracks on it, indicating it had been broken, but these cracks had been repaired almost perfectly. He then took a cup of water and poured a few drops of it at the feet of the Inti statue. The water slowly slid down and seeped into the cracks in the stone platform.

He then delicately dusted the stone platform with his palm. He took a pinch of cornmeal from the dish and carefully sprinkled it at the feet of the statue. With gentle movements, the powder fell in a simple circle. The powder blended with the dust at the feet of the statue, mixing. He then held a bundle of herbs high in the air, then slowly lowered it to the statue.

After everything was arranged, Xing Qingqi closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and began to whisper a prayer in Quechua. He prayed to the god Inti, praying for a good harvest, praying for strength, and praying that the spirit would once again respond to this ancient land.

When he finished his prayer and opened his eyes, there was a hint of expectation and scrutiny in his eyes. He carefully observed the cornmeal in front of the statue, waiting for something unusual to happen.

—And yet, the cornmeal lay quietly on the ground, unchanged, still just that simple powder. There was no movement in the air.

"What's going on... I should have completely replicated the ritual process, right?" Xing Qingyu frowned and thought, "The village chief is an ordinary person and the old man is a magician, so the problem shouldn't be here..."

As he was thinking, he suddenly realized something, pulled Weber over and taught him the ritual process step by step, and then started the entire sacrificial process again.

More than half an hour passed, and the sun gradually climbed up the sky. The sunlight poured into the room through the skylight, and the warm light slowly spread, illuminating the statue of Inti and the cornmeal under his feet.

As the last prayer slipped from Weber's mouth, the entire sacrificial process was completed again in Weber's hands. Xing Qingfeng and Weber stood side by side in front of the stone platform, holding their breath, their eyes fixed on the circle of corn flour -

——There was no movement, no unusual aura, no spirituality appeared, and the powder on the stone platform remained plain.

"This is strange. The variables should have been eliminated..." Xing Qingyu frowned as he observed the statue in front of him. "The variable is a local? That doesn't seem right. The local villagers don't have any spiritual power during their own sacrifices, but that old man is clearly a pure-blooded European Spaniard, yet he can still bestow spiritual power during the sacrifice..."

“…Where exactly is the decisive variable?”

"Fuckin' European barbarians," Isidro, who was tied to a chair, was perhaps awakened by Xing Qingfan and Weber's motives, and the first thing he did when he woke up was to babble insults, "Fuckin' kill me, kill me, dig out my heart and put it in a jar to use as magic material for you dogs."

"Ha, you still want to covet the gift of the God Inti?" Isidro saw the actions of Xing Qingqi and Weber clearly, and laughed even louder, "Fuck you, are you worthy?

"Even the Inti divine bird wouldn't even bother giving a damn about you bastards. This is the territory of the Inti descendants, and the white pigs should just go back to Europe."

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I originally wanted to use dialogue to make the clues clearer at the end, but I always feel that it is a bit stupid to write it this way. He was electrocuted for half a chapter without saying a word, but when he woke up and cursed, his true identity was exposed. It makes me feel uncomfortable no matter how I look at it. I don't like forced stupidity to advance the plot, so I took a slight detour and hid the information.

That’s about it. The above is for a new author and a new book. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

By the way, if possible, could you please give me more free recommendation tickets in the next two days? Thank you!

Volume 14: Symbiotic Relationships: . Strict punishments to break the courage of evildoers

The sky was gloomy, its gray clouds seeming to weigh down the entire landscape. The atmosphere inside the room contrasted sharply with the heavy sky outside. Faint morning light slanted in through the cracks in the skylight. Xing Qingfeng stood beside the statue, his gaze sweeping across the altar. His fingers tapped lightly on the stone, his mind reflecting on the previous ritual procedures.

"...No, this isn't modern magic at all," Kenneth, who had just returned, said. He examined the statue and the altar, his brow furrowed. His fingers brushed lightly over the cornmeal, then looked up at Xing Qingjiu. "Remember what I said before? The native magic base in South America likely declined because its culture was forcibly interrupted."

"Mr. Kenneth," Weber suddenly took over the conversation and said, "It's probably not a high probability, but it was indeed caused to decline by the De Valdés family at the time through some means."

"Oh? Is there a record?" Kenneth raised his eyebrows when he heard this, and turned to look at Weber with a little surprise.

"Yes, the information El-Melloi gave me mentioned this." Waver nodded, flipping through the stack of documents in his hand. He continued to explain as he flipped through the documents. "Unlike Europe, in South America, the secular kings and other nobles hold the power of sacrifice and even magic. They do not adhere to the principle of leaking secrets, but closely integrate them with their secular power—"

"——As for the magi of the De Valdés family, who had just arrived in South America, far from their sacred land, it was impossible for them to become enemies. Furthermore, due to the close ties between the native magi and secular powers in South America, any secular colonial activities would have been met with direct counterattack from the native magi."