Alchemy.of.souls Novels & Stories

He was shirtless allowing Summer a glimpse of the intricate dragon tattoo on his back, the same tattoo that she herself had received after being forced into marrying Michael. A cup dangled from his fingers at his side, that was when Summer finally noticed the intense smell of alcohol permeating throughout the entire living room. Not only was Michael not asleep, but he was also most likely deliriously drunk. "What did you find out?" His voice slurred out. He didn't bother turning to look at Summer as he spoke instead choosing to lift his drink to his lips. Summer let out a long sigh, "we have a mole." Now Michael did turn around, throwing his glass to the floor by Summer's feet as he did so.

'' Cause tomorrow is a important day in the human world Christmas '' Noir remarked . '' Christmas '' he was surprised . '' But i have no one to spend Christmas with this year '' said Arthur . '' Why ?'' Adam asked . '' Cause the one he loved is dead now ''said Arthur . '' Poor you '' Celia sighed . '' I see , is that the reason you want to learn alchemy ?'' ALbert asked . '' Yes , to resurrect her '' he replied . '' Hey i have an idea , we can celebrate Christmas here along with us '' Noir suggested .

At that, a call from an unknown number enters my mobile. -Tell me? -Lailah?- says a familiar voice on the other line. In the background, I can hear glass breaking.- I'm Scott. I need you to come to my apartment now. He seems alarmed. -What? Why? Scott? -It's Azael. -He says worriedly. An object falling to the ground and an incoherent babbling can be heard behind his voice.- He has arrived drunk and has started breaking things and it is not that I have enough money to renew furniture, also he has already damaged my car and that already are many expenses.

His flailing feet smacked into Alfos belly but the man didn't budge. "You fucking want to pretend?" He barked, a red glow appearing on his face. "I saw you leaving the royal coffers which makes me assume you took Dracolian's gold! Who did you buy with it? Rodrik?" "Is it...possible to buy the one that sees our souls? The one that can hear and see who the god of bond had paired?" He gave a quaky laugh that grated Alfos' ears. "You should've brain, beta. Something of such is impossible. It's an insult to assume I bought old Rodrik, the first soulgazer of Abbator to do my bidding,"

Chapter 171: The Churning Heavens The golden-violet matrix binding Kael’s core held. It flared with a terrible, blinding clarity that cut through the low-hanging alchemical smog of the Lower District, throwing long, stark shadows up the granite faces of the Southern Gatehouse.

On an empty stomach, it was a terrible idea. Which made it the perfect choice. He picked up one of the heavy crystal tumblers, poured a generous splash of the amber liquid, and raised it in a silent toast to the empty room. He took a long, deep gulp. The alcohol burned like liquid fire. It tore down his throat, making him gasp and cough, his eyes watering. But almost immediately, a blooming, artificial warmth spread through his chest, radiating outward into his cold, heavy limbs. It was a rush of pure, chemical courage. He laughed at a quiet, slightly hysterical sound that echoed in the quiet room.

Power crackled, uncontrolled, slamming into Eryx like lightning. Kael had gone feral—beyond recall. “FIND HER!” His thunderous roar shook buildings. Darius burst in, eyes widening at the sight. “Alpha—” “Sophia Blackthorn. Alive. Bring her to me.” Death laced every syllable. “Kael, your eyes—” “NOW!” Darius bolted. Kael turned back, madness and rage twisting love into something feral. His fingers brushed Eryx’s cheek—gentle amid the storm. “Stay. Hold on. Don’t go. Not now. Not ever.” Desperation cracked his voice.

—bone-and-iron automatons that moved with a jerky, terrifying precision. "They're targeting the twins' resonance!" Runa screamed, her daggers carving through the iron-marrow of a sentinel. In the center of the necropolis lay the Engine of Souls. It was a massive, rotating sphere of liquid-silver light—the captured spirits of our people. The sphere was held in place by four "Entropy-Anchors" made of the same starlight-iron as our Spire. "BREAK THE ANCHORS!" I roared. But as I lunged for the first anchor, Chronos-Prime appeared before me. He didn't use a blade; he used a Memory-Lance. He drove the weapon into my chest, not to kill me, but to show me the weight of the thousand years of the grav

The post opened with a simple statement: "Innovation belongs to the community, not individuals seeking glory." I detailed every step of the research process and freely taught everyone how to make antidotes for silver poisoning. I wrote: "My research into silver poisoning was meant to benefit all werewolves. I don't want this breakthrough to be twisted and misused by certain individuals." "The healing properties of moonlit elderflower combined with sacred sage can neutralize silver toxins when prepared correctly. Here are the exact measurements and preparation methods..." I included detailed diagrams, step-by-step instructions, and safety protocols. Everything a healer would need to replicate

I also made an effort to listen to Madeline’s thoughts, putting myself in her shoes and trying to understand her perspective. Their lives began to improve, and they often shared stories about the friends they made at school. They became close companions as they learned from each other. Together, they succeeded in getting into prestigious universities. I watched them smile often and I quietly exhaled with relief. As I became more empathetic, I no longer blamed others for my suffering. Slowly, my business began to flourish. The soul swap was perhaps a gift from the heavens. It not only saved Madeline but also rescued me from becoming someone increasingly arrogant and self-centered.