Cowboy Alchemist Novels & Stories

she hissed, keeping her face a mask of regal indifference. ​"The Blight-Wolves are being kept in the old mines on the southern border," he said, spinning her effortlessly. "And Silas isn't the one in charge. He’s just the purse. The one calling the shots is a man known as the 'Alchemist.' He’s been using Silver Bane blood to create his monsters." ​Rhea stumbled slightly, and Elias caught her, pulling her flush against his chest. For a heartbeat, the "Wild Desires" she had been suppressing surged to the surface. She wanted to forget the pack, the traitors, and the war. She wanted to sink into him.

She rolled her eyes at his stupidity and idiot mind. “What do you mean? There's no one around beside us, there are no witnesses.” He laughed after saying that. He looked at Soheila as if she's a foolish child. “Young girl, I am a Great Alchemist! You knew who I'm talking about.” Jack found out about a 'Great Alchemist' that appeared out of nowhere. He found out that the Great Alchemist can refine an 80% level of purity of pills. The Great Alchemist received the utmost respect and fame even though no one knew the Great Alchemist's identity. They don't even know if it's a girl or a boy. But they guessed that it would be an old man. Jack Ning knew that the Astra Pavilion won't care if he would

His dark brown hair was messy and sticky with his sweat, his scruffy salt and pepper gray beard coated in his own blood and spit. I watched as he thrashed against their grip and I reveled in the sound of his pain filled screams as one of them slowly dragged the sharp blade of his knife across the front of his chest. From his left collar bone to his right, so agonisingly slow. When the knife finally left his chest, Felix’s head slumped in relief and he tried to catch his breath. It wouldn't last long. My second man was already waiting with the bottle of purple liquid in his hand. The concoction was made up by our healers, a special wolfsbane brew. A potent liquid that we now incorporated to a

It was terrifying how quickly he could turn into a machine of war. Orion stepped up beside us, his shoulders looking twice as broad as usual. He let his Alpha scent roll out—a thick, heavy warning of pine and old earth—trying to choke out the smell of gasoline. The lead rider took his sweet time. He killed his engine, swung a leg over, and pulled off his helmet with a smirk that made my skin crawl. He had a scar running through one eyebrow that made his whole face look lopsided. “Well,” the guy drawled, his eyes roaming the trees before locking onto Tristan. “Look at this. Blackwood. I heard you’d turned into a campfire story.”

Unlike my workshop back home, which focused on mechanical engineering, this space was rooted in alchemical science. Several men stood around a long table near the window, their heads bent over a cauldron emitting faint blue smoke. I moved closer, curiosity overpowering caution. “What are you working on?” I asked casually. One of them looked up, startled at first, then relaxed when he noticed my calm posture. “A compound,” he said. “We’re experimenting with different forms of wolfsbane… combining it with gunpowder to create a more lethal combustion effect.” My brow lifted. “You’re weaponizing the toxin.”