Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

While in a hallucinogenic state, it's normal to experience visual and auditory hallucinations and a sense of ascension. Therefore, in mythological traditions, the gods were often in heaven, and communication with them required ascending to heaven through various rituals. But when priests were later assigned the responsibility of relaying messages, those who weren't high noticed: "Hey, this guy isn't even ascending; he's just lying on the ground!" Was this guy's supposed oracle a lie?

Perhaps the priest was truly communicating with the gods of the Age of Gods, or perhaps he was simply a con man who met a group of fools. This explanation was further developed, with the high-drug priest interpreting the incident as his spirit leaving his body to commune with the gods, while his body remained temporarily on earth. Seeing that the priest was indeed abnormal after his walk, the bystanders also believed it.

Considering that the concepts of souls and out-of-body experiences are present in religions and folklore around the world, we might have to admit that a common trait among all humans long ago was drug use. And considering that many myths involve gods descending upon priests, and that in primitive times these deities often exhibited convulsions and other symptoms, well…

All we can say is that books, anesthetics, and the corpses of plants shaped the gods and transformed the gods of the Age of Gods into spirits.

The cigar magic gift set that follows this principle does have the effect of making the soul leave the body, but the reason is not the addictive nature of the poison. Xing Qingwu has always hated poisons, so naturally he would not mix them with things like ice.

He had simply used some transmuted mercury in his cigars. If it weren't for the unknown reason that mercury treated with magical power wouldn't cause mercury poisoning, Weber, who had been inhaling mercury vapor through his nose, would have died long ago.

Xing Qingjiu precisely measured the characteristics of Weber's soul, derived its eigenformula, and then, through complex calculations and modulation, designed the cigar into a customizable magic gift. Only Weber could use it, no one else could; it was truly a soul-binding experience.

Simply put, this cigar intensifies Weber's clairvoyance by adjusting his soul, allowing him to enter the so-called "religious experience" like the ancient shamans. Therefore, the current scene -

——Weber's soul floated in the air, his body lay on the ground, and everything became extremely normal.

He lowered his head and looked at the lifeless body with a cigar stuck in its nostrils. The scene was really funny and a bit absurdly ironic.

However, Weber's attention was quickly drawn back to the old man before him. Isidro had already walked over to his body and slowly squatted down, his fingers suspended in the air, as if sensing something.

"Shit," Weber cursed inwardly, "This old man can't handle it anymore."

Through his heightened clairvoyance and perception, Waver sensed the ripples of spiritual veins. The magical energy in the air surged toward Isidro like a tide, even seeping through the stone walls and rolling in from the depths of the distant earth. His lips moved slightly, channeling the spiritual energy of the room through chanting. A faint glow emerged from the ground, and the power of the spiritual land began to activate.

As for Waver, his soul had left his body and he could no longer use conventional magic. Facing Isidro, who used the spiritual land to perform a multi-section large-scale magic, Waver could only raise his hand and point at him, quietly listening to Isidro's chanting and deducing the basis of his magic.

——The answer is discerning eyes!

And at his fingertips, a faint magical power was also gathering strength, this was a magic developed based on the principle of cursing the opponent by pointing a finger.

——Yin Sha Bullet.

Weber was also very nervous at this moment. Using Yin Sha Bullet to hit Great Magic sounded like using Sky Striker to hit Prime Pearl Tears.

If we add the Detective Eye, maybe it will be Intelligence Sky Striker vs. Pearl Tear, and she will win!

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This chapter has a lot of settings, but I tried to write it in a light-hearted and humorous way, so it should be a good read (

The above is a new story for a new person. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

Volume 10: Symbiotic Relationships: . Grand Order

Isidro raised his head, frowning, his eyes coldly scanning the man slowly ascending into the air. Sunlight streamed through the shabby skylight, striking Weber like a divine beam lifting him up. The burning cigar was still stuck in Weber's nostrils, his long black hair drooping, gently swaying in the breeze. He seemed to be receiving some kind of call from the sunlight, emanating a strange sense of holiness.

—it would have looked quite divine indeed, if he hadn't had that cigar stuck up his nostrils.

At that moment, an awkward silence filled the air. Isidro's eyes twitched slightly, a hint of disdain playing at the corner of his mouth. He spat forcefully and muttered something under his breath. This room itself was built on a spiritual vein node, and the spiritual vein beneath his feet continued to feed him magic power. Although Weber's Yinsha bullet did hit the key node where he channeled his magic power, causing a brief magical fluctuation, he remained calm. The reason was simple—

——He didn't need to rely on his own magic power to support the magic he constructed, and his meager magic power was not enough to do that.

Isidro's family roots run deep. The de Valdés clan, originally from distant Spain, arrived in South America in the 16th century and began occupying the sacred lands of this region. Despite forcibly bringing Spanish culture and customs to this land and colonizing it, and even though their magical foundation was inherently well-suited to colonial activities, reality soon dealt them a heavy blow.

The climate, topography, and even the local spiritual veins of South America were vastly different from the Europe they were familiar with. Generation after generation, the family members gradually felt a strong sense of rejection. They should have long ago, like the Matou family in Japan, completely blocked their magic circuits and ended their family line.

——Until they chose to sever ties with their main family and plundered the "Grand Order" of the local South American magic family.

The so-called Grand Order is the original order held by a family lineage that has been passed down from pre-Western times to the present day. It is the most noble blood code in the world of magic. It is a pride that is strictly observed, like a curse, to sacrifice for that mission until the entire clan is extinct.

——This is the Grand Order.

After forcibly plundering their bloodline's legacy through various means, Isidro's family finally slowed down its decline. Even so, by Isidro's generation, his magic circuits had become nearly 50% blocked.

Even though he occupied a spiritual land, his own magical power was pitifully low. Even so, with the support of the spiritual land, he was still able to channel enough power to construct large-scale magic. As for the backlash from the magic riot? He didn't care at all.

The hallmark of their family's magic is dispersal. Isidro family magicians excel at dispersing their spirits outside their bodies, harnessing their control over spiritual meridian nodes to create magic within. This method significantly reduces the magician's dependence on the individual, but without a viable spiritual land to operate, they are useless.

It was precisely because of their family's magical quest for spiritual lands that the de Valdés family became the most enthusiastic mage-based family to colonize South America during the Spanish era. They attempted to simultaneously extinguish native cultures while simultaneously colonizing South America, forcibly imbuing Spanish culture with its own. From a secular perspective, they were successful, as Spanish is now the official language of most South American countries. However, from a magical perspective, they failed. They were unable to overcome their acclimatization problems, nor even understand the underlying principles of acclimatization. This also led to the gradual decline of most of the branches of the family that remained in their homeland, degenerating into ordinary families. Isidro's family was the only exception.

"Esta tierra nospertenece..." (This land is my master...) Isidro's voice was low and cold, carrying the arrogance of a conqueror. He shook his arms, feeling the power from his spiritual veins surge through him. He carelessly dropped the two runestones in his hands to the ground. Then, he deftly drew his sword from his waist.

——It was a rusty Spanish knight's sword.

Isidro raised his sword high, pointing the tip directly at Weber in the air. As he swung the sword fiercely, an invisible barrier unfolded as the sword passed, further entangling and squeezing Weber's body.

Waver's body hovered in mid-air, the cigar still burning in his nostrils, emitting a pungent smell of tobacco. His soul had been forced out of his body, and his flesh, relying only on the power of magic, soared upwards, attempting to escape this hopeless battlefield. Because his soul had been removed from his body, Waver had no way of knowing what his body was doing. But he could see and hear the creaking of his bones under the strain, his limbs twisting at strange angles, his tendons and muscles weakening and weakening from the twisting and squeezing.

Then, there was a crisp sound of bone breaking, "Crack——" and Weber's right arm was suddenly broken by a powerful force. The snow-white bone stump penetrated the muscles and tore the skin. Blood flowed out from the gap and dripped onto the ground below, forming a bright red bloodstain.

He had no idea what kind of torture his body was suffering, only the constant pressure on his bones and the tearing of his muscles. Even so, he refused to give up, using his remaining magic to control his body and continue to soar upwards.

"Keep going, keep going up..." Weber was anxious. No matter how damaged his body was, as long as he could escape, he still had hope. No matter how damaged his body was, as long as he could escape and find Xing Qingfan, there would be no big problem.

In fact, if Weber ran away like this, Xing Qingfeng could also find a way to preserve his soul and spirit and stuff them into a teddy bear, and then slowly consider the matter of his original body.

However, Weber could not be as open-minded as Xing Qingjiu. He still wanted to keep his original body.

In the air, Isidro watched Weber's struggle with indifference. He swung his sword again, and as his lips hummed a curse, the oppressive feeling became stronger, pressing Weber's body further from all sides, almost tearing him apart completely.

"You can't escape," Isidro's voice was still emotionless. "This sacred land belongs to my family. There's no point in you running away from here. If you stay, I can give you a quick death." As he declared, the barrier that had been crushing Weber's broken body like a millstone began to increase the pressure further, crushing Weber's bones inch by inch.

Waver's body still teetered in midair, relying on the last of his magic to continue climbing upward, as if defying fate. However, his flesh was already shattered, his arms and legs twisted like a crushed rag doll, blood streaking through the air. Yet, with every inch he soared, Waver's body endured more torture, as if being torn apart by invisible hands, twisting his limbs, and his bones creaking with a horrifying sound.

Isidro stood below, holding the hilt of his sword with both hands, but his expression was not anxious. At the moment when Waver's body was about to break through the skylight -

Isidro suddenly raised his head and began to sing with a voice full of emotion. As he sang, Weber's body suddenly shook, as if strangled by some invisible force, unable to move upwards.

"Mein Sohn, wasbirgst du so bang dein Gesicht (My son, why are you so frightened?)" Isidro walked slowly, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor. The sword in his hand lightly scraped across the ground, making a sharp friction sound.

Weber's body twitched violently, as if he was tied up by invisible chains. His limbs were squeezed by the force again, and his bones made dull "crackling" sounds, as if they would shatter at any time.

"Siehst, Vater, duden Erlkoenig nicht (Father, don't you see the devil?)?" Isidro's voice echoed loudly in the room. He stood below, raised his head, and looked at the struggling Weber with indifference.

The air seemed filled with an intense pressure, so heavy it felt suffocating. The surroundings resonated with Isidro's chant. The mottled cracks on the dilapidated stone walls flickered faintly, and sunlight filtered through the shattered skylight, casting dappled shadows. But even these rays, under Isidro's chant, seemed to become a cage, tightly locking away every inch of Weber's freedom.

Waver felt his body grow heavier, as if every syllable was like an iron chain wrapped around his limbs, pulling him back to the ground. The air seemed to grow thicker. Though he couldn't feel his body, Waver could still feel his heartbeat gradually weakening, even his will gradually being consumed. Yet, he didn't stop. His body continued to strive upwards, even though his bones were twisted, even though his limbs twitched like broken puppets, he didn't give up.

"Den Erlkönig mit Kron' und Schweif (The devil wears a crown and a long dress)." Isidro continued to sing slowly and loudly. As he chanted, the air around Weber began to distort, and a vague figure gradually emerged beside him. The figure wore a heavy crown, and a long cloak flowed behind it, emitting a deep and eerie light. It was expressionless, but its empty eyes stared straight at Weber.

The shadowy hand slowly reached toward Weber, its long, slender fingers gently tracing his flesh. However, its target wasn't his shattered flesh and blood, but his soul. Weber could feel his consciousness being constantly tugged at, as if his soul were being seized and nearly torn apart.

"Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt fasst er mich an (Father, Father, he caught me)!" Isidro's chant continued to echo in the room, his voice high and teasing, lingering in the air with the cold wind, pushing Weber into the abyss of despair.

Waver hung in mid-air, his body shattered and tattered, like a haphazardly twisted rag. His limbs twisted at strange angles, the sound of bones snapping incessantly in his ears. His feeble consciousness felt the connection between soul and body crumbling bit by bit, like a thin rope being slowly severed. The tearing sensation seemed to assault him from all sides, the excruciating pain in his soul nearly driving him mad, yet he struggled upwards, desperately trying to escape.

"Erlkoenig hat mirein Leids getan (The devil has captured me and taken me away)." Isidro gently raised his sword, the tip gleaming with a cold metallic gleam in the dim light, as if waiting for Waver's body to fall. The shadowy hand had already ruthlessly strangled Waver's soul. Waves of oppression emanated from the void, suppressing every ounce of his resistance.

Weber gasped, the scene before his eyes began to blur, his world was gradually swallowed by darkness, and everything around him was distorted and collapsed in his vision.

"Dem Vater grauset's, er reitet geschwind (The father is mad, whipping his horse to gallop)." Each word cut through Weber's last shred of resistance with the precision of a blade. The shadowy figure's fingers tightened, and the connection between soul and body was on the verge of breaking.

"Er haelt in den Armen das aechzende Kind (He hugged the child in his arms tightly)." The shadowy figure had completely enveloped Weber's consciousness, as if the shadow would swallow him whole. Weber's vision was shrinking, and the sounds around him seemed to be getting farther and farther away. Only Isidro's cold voice was still echoing in his ears.

“*Erreicht den Hofmit Mühe und Not—— (He made great efforts to reach the manor——)”

Suddenly, "Bang!" A gunshot broke the silence, and the air was instantly filled with the strong smell of gunpowder.

Isidro's chanting came to an abrupt halt. He lowered his head to look at his chest, where a bullet hole appeared. Blood gushed out of his chest like a tide.

His lungs were pierced, blood gushing from his mouth. He gasped for breath, attempting to chant the final incantation. However, the lacerated wounds burned every breath like a blazing flame, and the pain made it impossible to maintain his impassive demeanor. He forced himself to raise his sword, attempting to complete the final incantation, but his voice was already breaking and hoarse.

"In seinen Armendas Kind——" He squeezed out the last sentence with difficulty, but before he could finish his words, the second gunshot pierced the air again.

"Bang!" The bullet pierced his throat, blood gushing out. Isidro's eyes instantly blurred, his hand loosened from his sword, and his body leaned back weakly. The shadow gradually became illusory before Weber's eyes, and finally dissipated into the air as Isidro fell.

"Look, I told you that using a gun is much more effective against a magician than using any magic tricks," Xing Qingqiu's voice came from the shadows not far away. He paused, as if listening to the comments of his companions, "Ah, yes, yes, you only need less than two seconds to complete a three-measure magic trick—"

"—but it only takes me a fraction of a second to pull the trigger."

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OK, the general foreshadowing has been completed, and the next step is to explain the foreshadowing and promote the development of the next plot.

In this chapter, Isidro actually sings "The Devil", which I actually copied from my friend's idea (boo). Considering that putting all the lyrics there would be suspicion of inflating the word count, I omitted most of it and only put a small part. And these extra lyrics do not affect the subscription price, so you can rest assured!

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, is there anyone who has written a book? I was thinking that if I pack a box for myself while the discount is on, would it be much better? The number of new additions and follow-up subscriptions has never increased, and even the number of favorites has decreased. This is clearly during the discount period... So I want to pack a box for myself to see if I can increase it a little. Will it be effective?

Volume 11: Symbiosis: . The Soulless Idol

Xing Qingfeng stepped out of the shadows, his figure gradually emerging from the dimming sunlight. His steps were relaxed and deliberate, and he raised the pistol slightly. Smoke from the muzzle drifted out, forming a tiny vortex that seemed to linger in the air for a moment before dissipating. He blew on it casually, as if the precise shot he had just made was nothing more than a trivial matter to him.

"I told you long ago to come and see what's going on," Xing Qingqiu said with a clear hint of teasing, his eyebrows slightly raised, and his tone relaxed. "He's still there admiring the murals. If I had come a little later, your apprentice would have gone straight to God. Then I might as well paint a portrait of you on the wall, and you can come over and continue to slowly admire your murals."

He paused, his left eye blinking slightly, and only then did Weber notice the difference. Xing Qingjiu's left eye was completely different from usual, now emitting a brilliant gemstone-like light. It wasn't a blinding glare, but rather a layered halo, like a finely crafted gem standing out against the dimness. It was like a crystal embedded in the eye socket, its every slight movement reflecting a cold light. Weber could even sense the subtle pressure emanating from that eye.

"Ah, right, right," Xing Qingqi continued jokingly, "Just keep watching. Weber's been arrested, and you're just looking at the murals. Weber's going to be sent to Mexico in a few days for modern human trafficking, and you're just touching the reliefs. ?陾久笼物?〝三八妻依??彡Weber's about to be beaten to death, and you're just eating tortillas—"

"—When you return to Europe, your sister, anxious to find her lover, comes right up to you and asks, 'Where's Weber?' You say the South American murals are beautiful, the tortillas and chicken soup are delicious, but when you ask how Weber is doing, you wave your hands and say, 'I don't know.'"

"Uh... Mr. Xing...?" Weber half-floated in the air and called out to Xing Qingqi tentatively. He wasn't sure if Xing Qingqi could detect his current condition.

"Ah, Weber, don't worry," Xing Qingfeng immediately turned towards Weber and looked him straight in the eye. He soothed Weber, who was floating in the air, "Don't rush back now. Float for a while while I repair your body. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll die of pain."

"Actually, what I want to ask is... what's wrong with your eyes?" The tension in Weber's heart relaxed a little, but his gaze fell on Xing Qingqi's left eye. The eyes sparkling with gem-like light were particularly eye-catching in the dim environment.

"Oh, the magic eye?" Xing Qingfeng touched his left eye and then took it off. He held the eye, which shone with a cold light, in his hand. The light danced between his palms, like a gem flowing with magic. "I used your teacher's gem to refine it for fun. I added a sympathetic magic to it and started a live broadcast for your teacher."

"...You mean, uh, Mr. Kenneth is watching too?"

"Yes, we watched you stuff the cigar up your nostrils," Xing Qingqi nodded. As he spoke, he casually tossed the Demonic Eye, which drew a bright arc in the air before landing accurately in his left eye socket. "You truly are a genius."

"..." Weber suddenly looked hopeless, and suddenly wanted to stop saving him and just let him die.

Xing Qingfeng casually pulled an old metal syringe from his pocket. The thick outer shell gleamed with a cold metallic sheen, as if it had been handed down from some antique laboratory. A narrow glass window adorned the side of the syringe, through which he could see the slightly swaying silver liquid within. Xing Qingfeng expressionlessly turned the syringe over several times in his hands, then without hesitation, plunged it into Weber's flesh on the ground.

Weber's soul was still floating in the air, unable to feel the cold sensation of the needle piercing his thigh, nor could he sense any changes as the medicine slowly seeped into his bloodstream. He looked down at his own body from above, seeing the metal syringe firmly inserted into his leg like a bizarre instrument, and the light liquid being pushed into his veins through the thin needle tube, giving Weber a strange feeling.

The moment the needle pierced Weber's thigh, a slight "pop" sound was heard. Weber couldn't help but look at the metal syringe stuck in his leg, the liquid in the syringe slowly pouring into his body. The old engraving on the syringe's casing was particularly clear in the dim light, gleaming with a hint of metallic luster.

"Uh, is this a new medicine?" Weber's soul floated in the air. Although he could not feel any reaction from his body, the sight of the thick metal syringe piercing his body made him unable to help but ask.

"No, it's still the old recipe." Xing Qingjiu didn't even raise his head. As he spoke, his hands moved in one go. After pushing the last drop of medicine in, he released his fingers on the syringe.

"Just considering that drinking mercury directly might be unacceptable to some people, I changed to a more direct method—"

"--And ah," he said, pulling out the needle neatly, playing with it for a few seconds, smiling and flicking it lightly, and finally putting it in his pocket with a somewhat complacent look on his face, "Don't you think it looks very handsome?"

Xing Qingfeng crouched down, carefully examining the unconscious Isidro. His lungs and throat were completely pierced, and his breathing was as weak as a dying beast, with only a few remaining breaths remaining. The air was filled with the faint scent of blood, and the mud mixed with blood seemed particularly sticky in the dim light. On the ground, Isidro had long lost the ability to move, lying there powerlessly, awaiting death.

"Okay, let me see what this local magician is like." Xing Qingyu whispered as he reached out to Isidro's body, but just as he was feeling the weak magic circuit in the other's body and was about to cut it off, his brows suddenly frowned slightly.

"Wow, that's quite interesting." He felt it while carefully exploring the magic circuit. Logically speaking, the old man's magic circuit was blocked and his energy reserves were too low to support him from performing the big magic trick just now, but not only did the old man perform it, but the effect was quite good, almost strangling Weber to death.

——This means that the old man may not have been affected much by the blockage of his magic circuits due to acclimatization.

To verify his hypothesis, he unhesitatingly lifted Isidro's shirt, revealing his bare back. The old man's skin bore the marks of time, dry and dull. Several fine scars were faintly visible on either side of his spine. These didn't appear to be caused by trauma, but rather the product of some kind of implant surgery. Xing Qingqi's fingers gently traced the magic circuits, quickly finding a pinhole-like scar near his spine.

The scar looked extremely old, yet its shape was regular, like the mark of some medical device or surgery. It was slightly raised, and the surrounding skin was a dull bluish-purple color, clearly indicating the area had been subjected to some kind of long-term external force. The pinprick-like scar was deeply imprinted on the old man's spine.

"So that's how it is," he muttered to himself, squinting at the scar for a moment before quickly pulling a small knife from his waist. The blade gleamed faintly in the dim light. Without hesitation, he plunged the blade into the skin near the pinprick-like scar. The sharp blade sliced through the flesh, and blood oozed out, staining the surrounding skin red. Xing Qingji's technique was clean and precise, cutting through the surrounding tissue with pinpoint accuracy. Seconds later, he had excavated a small piece of the magic seal embedded in the flesh from the old man's spine, like a tiny gem embedded in flesh.

"Okay, let's slowly study what's going on after we get back." Xing Qingfu put away the seal, looked up at Weber's translucent soul form, and was about to carry the limp body away when he heard Weber's voice.

"Wait a minute!" Weber suddenly shouted, his voice slightly anxious, "Mr. Xing, save that old man, no, at least make him able to speak."

Xing Qingwu paused and turned to look at Weber, his eyebrows slightly raised. "What can he pull out of his mouth?" He immediately understood Weber's intention.

"Yes," Weber nodded and said quickly, "I just heard him mention 'Crystal Valley' and 'Sun Festival'. These things may be closely related to the clues we are looking for. I think he must know something about it."

"Hmm... I'd really like to try to pull his soul out and question him..." Xing Qingqiu thought about it and gave up the idea. "... Forget it. It seems morally questionable. Let's not make such a hassle. What if his hands get wet? He only has one tongue, and if it's broken, there's no way to grow it back."

He leaned over, grabbed Isidro's neck with both hands, and lifted the old man up as easily as lifting a chicken. However, at that moment, he felt that Isidro's heartbeat had completely stopped.

Xing Qingfeng bent down, squatting beside Isidro's body, and gently touched his cold neck with his fingers. The wounds that pierced both his lungs and throat were like two twisted bloodstains. Isidro lay quietly on the ground, his chest no longer moving.

"Oh, it seems he is dead." Xing Qingqi curled his lips. He grabbed Isidro's neck and lifted him up like a chicken.

"Well, it's okay if he's dead. Just give him three minutes of first aid. If he's alive, there won't be any irreversible damage to his brain tissue—"

"--Or perhaps the soul hasn't completely dissipated?" Xing Qingqi's lips still had a nonchalant smile on their faces. "Sure enough, I still prefer the former explanation."

Without using any elixir, Xing Qingfeng directly poured his magic power into the old man's chest. He used his magic power to forcibly stimulate Isidro's heartbeat, which in turn stimulated the rapid growth of the tissue around his chest cavity. The wound began to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye. Without the help of elixir, this operation would undoubtedly have had serious consequences for him.

——If the old man could survive, he might be diagnosed with lung cancer in a few months.

He continued to repair Isidro's body while muttering to himself, while also completely severing his remaining magic circuits. Furthermore, with the magic seal already removed, the old man would completely lose all ability to perform magic upon waking.

"Well, when he wakes up, he will be almost a cripple." Xing Qingqiu threw Isidro's body on the ground like a rag, turned around mercilessly, stretched, and his joints made a slight clicking sound.

He stretched his stiff shoulders and slowly surveyed his surroundings. The room was dim, its damp air carrying a faint musty smell. The only bright spot in the room came from the central skylight, which shone directly onto a statue of a deity, not particularly tall.

This statue stood in the center of the room. While the crude stone carving wasn't exquisite, the combination of roughness and age was quite clever. Xing Qingfeng's gaze was drawn to it, and his eyebrows raised slightly, revealing a hint of curiosity.