Chapter 30: The Alchemy Club

Creating magic isn’t something a first‑year witch should be doing.

Whether modifying existing spell models or deriving new ones from scratch, the difficulty is terrifying—and it’s simply beyond what the girl could pull off in a short time.

In fact, even among Eslon’s graduates, those who can truly invent a magic of their own and integrate it into their tactical system are the absolute top—ranked among the very few in their cohort.

Don’t let the fact she only borrowed five more books fool you—those five books were rife with deep, dense knowledge and heavy infiltration risk.

She activated Focus Mode. Even if it meant losing her ability to study for the next week, she read all the basic alchemy textbooks in one night. But those five books—she couldn’t even get through five pages before hitting roadblocks.

Luckily, developing one’s innate magic and building traits is meant to be a lifelong project for an arch‑witch. Jiang Cha wasn’t in any rush.

For now, she just needed to steadily train her magic power and shift her mana property. Most of her energy, she devoted to side‑professions and studying spellbooks.

After a combat class, she realized her main deficiency:

Her spell library was severely lacking.

With over sixty thousand units of mana, if she could raise the quality of her learned spells, offense and defense would not be her problem.

“Ah—so this is what spellbooks are for.”

Opening a time-worn leatherbound tome glittering with mana points, the girl scratched her head and resolved yet another puzzle.

She had always wondered: why are side‑profession textbooks just regular printed books, while magical tomes must be made of mana‑preserving materials?

Now she understood.

A spellbook, in principle, is much like a magical scroll—except scrolls are one-use and don’t require the user’s mana, while spellbooks need the witch’s mana for repeated use.

Their principle: guiding the user to construct a spell model so the magic can be reproduced.

“Transmutation’s Giant Strength uses mana to construct virtual muscles to increase output… So why not just use a hydraulic‑lever principle?”

Constructing ‘muscles’ is far more complex than building a hydraulic lever. With a slight adjustment to the spell model, the output could leap a tier, and mana consumption drop significantly.

“I see… model construction line 3, clause 8, applies to principle 4. The peripheral runes represent [Simulation], then middle is [Muscle], core is [Amplify]. But what does that runic segment mean?”

Of course a spellbook isn’t just a guide to casting. It contains detailed breakdowns of the spell model, standard usage examples, and suggestions for modifications.

Jiang Cha wasn’t just reading—she was training her analysis ability of spell models. This is like solving math problems: practice matters more than memorization.

Spell model principles and rules are far more numerous than mathematical formulas. The higher the magic, the more you need. Without slowly building from lower tiers, even memorizing all the formulas won’t let you solve the problems.

“So it means [Protection] and [Adaptation], huh. Hmm, if I replace the muscle model with hydraulic lever…”

Preconscious intuition often acts faster than the brain. Research witches are often high‑risk because of their combat talents. Yes—combat talent.

Casting speed matters. Over long wars, witches evolved many bizarre talents—too weak to be traits, but effects present in nearly everyone—so they’re just talents.

Deep in concentration, Jiang Cha didn’t notice until it was too late. The moment she realized how absurd her “hydraulic lever” idea was, a spell model had already been built and mana fully filled.

She cast it… successfully!

Boom!!!

“What!? Chabao, what did you break again!?”

The golden-haired loli was first to burst out of her room (to ‘check’) and applied to open the door to rush in.

“…There was a slight error modifying the spell model.”

The girl looked at the now-ruined desk. Her muscles trembled, capillaries ruptured, blood seeping from her right hand. She wiped her face with her left hand.

Now she knew why the predecessors filled those spells with so many protective rune clauses.

Let’s be clear: granting a normal human-level hydraulic lever strength to a witch’s arm? Moving a finger might shatter your bones. Totally out of control—her brain’s signals and those mechanical components just couldn’t match!

Witches’ bodies indeed were stronger than ordinary humans. But in a race whose baseline power is already high, a hydraulic transmission device of that output would be beyond absurd.

Even Optimus Prime would kneel to that punch!

“Pfft! Hahaha!!”

The golden-haired loli couldn’t hold in her laughter. The expression Chabao made was just too funny—even professional witches break face sometimes.

“You better be careful from now on, Chabao‑chan.”

He Qin tapped Lina’s kleinen head irritably, then used healing magic to reconstruct the girl’s muscles.

Witch healing magic is strange: most healing spells belong to the ‘creation’ school; healing is essentially reconstructing whatever broke.

So witches tend to master anatomy.

Right now, He Qin was reconstructing muscles and vessels, replenishing lost blood—not with surgical precision, but the self‑healing ability of witches fills in slight errors.

“Thanks~”

The girl didn’t mind; beyond some pain, this little accident had no real impact. Oh, at the moment of error, Jiang Cha had cut off sensation in her right arm. Her pain was emotional—that desk needs replacing now!

Another expense…

After a chaotic morning, the three girls went off to their own tasks.

Lina headed directly to the Dueling Club. He Qin went to the Automaton Club where better tools awaited to build new puppets.

Jiang Cha went to the Alchemy Club.

During the development of Focus Mode, she had flood-learned all the basics of alchemy in one night. Trying to jump straight into intermediate alchemy was pointless—it’s a practical discipline; theory alone is useless.

Also, she needed money.

“Hello, senior sister! I want to join the Alchemy Club. What do I need to do?”

Without hesitation, social‑anxious Chabao strode to the front desk.

The Alchemy Club’s hall looked similar to the Dueling Club: spacious, bright, vintage décor. Not far away was a tea corner with several round wooden tables, where a few witches chatted and drank tea leisurely.

‘Is this like Guangdong dim sum morning tea?’

Jiang Cha peeked at the time, silently sniggering. On the outside, she still looked like a cute newbie. Her wet eyes blinked at the front desk receptionist.

“Anko? Little sister here called you—please help her!”

No reply. As the girl watched a hooded, trembling receptionist wrapped in robes, a witch nearby whispered with schadenfreude:

“Don’t mind her—Anko is supremely socially anxious. If you want, talk to me instead.”

Seeing Anko likely couldn’t respond, the teasing witch sighed and took over.

“You put a social‑phobe at the desk—Alchemists really know how to pick staff, huh?”

Jiang Cha blinked, then grinned mischievously. She leaned over the counter to peer at Anko’s face: purple eyes, pink hair, cute cheeks—obviously someone easy to tease. Just lacking makeup.

“Hmm, 85 points. With a special scenario, 92! Excellent!”

“Junior sister, you have good taste~”

That witch smiled. “I’m Shi Lan, a third-year witch in the Huaxia school.”

“Oh~ so senior sister.”

Jiang Cha grinned at Shi Lan’s ample bosom. “I’m Jiang Cha, first year, also Huaxia witch—fellow hometown!”

Not quite true.

Where Jiang Cha came from, only the principal knew. She might not even be native to this world. After all, her internal knowledge had subtle differences from human Earth’s history.

But that detail would wait until the long-missing principal returned.

“Then I should be the one welcoming you. Want to join the Alchemy Club?”

“Of course~ I heard the benefits are great?”

“They are, if your fundamentals pass. Fill out this form first.”

Shi Lan studied the quirky girl and Anko, whose face looked petrified, helpless.

“Anko, when will you loosen up… the Alchemy Club is no haven for antisocial shut-ins. Academic exchange is important.”

“I—I’ll try.”

Anko’s voice was nearly inaudible. Every fiber screamed escape. The girl sneaked a smile.

Unlike the casual form filling at the Dueling Club, the Alchemy Club was much more rigorous. As Shi Lan said, they only accept alchemists with sufficient skill.

So the girl saw a written test.

But for someone who could memorize whole books word for word, the test was trivial. Only the last two open-ended questions made her pause.

The previous knowledge questions were a breeze.

“I submit—Senpai Anko~”

After finishing, she glanced at Shi Lan, then skipped over to Anko.

Anko jumped. Half wanting to flee, half unable to.

Jiang Cha’s spirits were bright: “Senior sister, don’t tease her. Let me see your test.”