Homunculus Alchemist Novels & Stories

One of the Alchemists who’s wearing the white-yellow robe that has a symbol of a golden cauldron can’t hold his curiosity and immediately asked after he had examined the pill. “Mr. Zhu, may I inquire about the one who had concocted these pills?” That alchemist asked with enthusiasm. Every alchemist within this meeting room nodded in approval of this question. They also want to know. Zhu Wushang smiled after he heard that ignoring the question of the yellow alchemist he says.

High-Rank power frequently fought over such an alchemist to win him or her over in their forces. Alchemists or Alchemy Masters are cultivators in the cultivation world with a profession in medicines and creating pills. They are all highly respected and valued people in the cultivation world because of their ability to create pills that could significantly assist others whether it'd be their health or cultivation. However, not everybody can become an Alchemist as they wish. Just like cultivation, one must be born with the talent to become an Alchemist, as they are required to memorize the countless numbers of plants and medicines that exist in this world. It is said that only one in 100,000 p

Alchemists were bustling about in their work robes, carrying bottles of liquid, raw materials, and notebooks. “The same atmosphere,” I murmured, still smiling sweetly. My mood was excellent lately due to the smooth progress of the Moon Market project. Serel was already waiting in the meeting room with Hessel, the Head Alchemist of Silvergrove pack, and fifteen other alchemists. They greeted me respectfully. “Luna,” Hessel said, bowing briefly. “We have completed the initial prototype of the Silvergrove Mortar.” My eyes lit up. “Show me.”

“There was a quenching spell added that after an hour, the site would go cold. Less collateral damage that way, provides a more targeted attack. I dislike being responsible for the death of countless innocents so I build in safeguards.” “You created these bombs?” Distracted from Jules, August re-evaluated Connery. “Warlock?” “Alchemist,” Connery corrected. “I have no magic. What I do possess is a wealth of wisdom and an uncanny ability to mix arcane ingredients to potent effect.” “Interesting,” August was thoughtful as he nodded. “So, the Van Helsings base has been destroyed and our pack members escaped before the explosion. A happy outcome all around,” he lifted an eyebrow at Jules. “How di

“In it, we learn how to concoct potions that can heal injuries in hours, not days. We devote our minds to inventing health supplements such as the Ocean Lizard-grappling Elixir, the Ki Detoxifier and the Twelve Meridian Balancer; even the mythical Xian Serum. It’s no wonder some Gym-nins turn into Brew-nins. “Our External Alchemy is different from the internal healing or Divine Spark of the Storks and the herbology and toxicology of the Chthonians in the south. Surprisingly enough, it was the first ever collaborative work between us and the Salamanders. The Salamanders have their siege-engines, demolition bombs, mines and their relentless quest for the Philosopher’s Stone that would transfor

He smiles as he watches the head of the clan and everyone around that room dead and bathing with their blood that put him in utmost content. He who sacrifices his very soul and is bound into the chains and clutches of that God. The master of the dead, a necromancer, and an alchemist. He who is supposed to be dead yet is alive and continues to like a cycle of a jellyfish and two. He is greeted as his very creation and façade of an older sister, replies. “As your very wish, master.”

Horace didn’t believe it back then since he had only read about it in fantasy novels. But now, before him, someone had performed alchemy, and it was a young woman nineteen years of age. Seriously? His world seemed to be crumbling. How could someone be so much better than others, despite being human all the same?

I stroked both of his cheeks to make him feel my warmth, but I had no idea that when he did, he would turn away from me. "I needed to save him as soon as I saw his memories, so I transformed him into something that could save you. I never anticipated that he would have to be imprisoned in this dreadful temple upon his return and that the artifact would consume the majority of his power for him to produce a copy on his own. That is the Alchemist; he was fashioned from a fragment of Victor’s soul and an artifact.”

he asked, his voice already laced with suspicion. I exhaled, slow. My tongue felt too large in my mouth. “Page 117,” I said. He stilled. I didn’t need to explain further. He knew what I meant. Callum Thorne had a quiet obsession with the advanced alchemical theory texts Professor Zelda kept locked behind his desk cabinet—specifically, the first edition copy of Astrum’s Theory of Etheric Bloom Convergence, a book so dense it made most of the upperclassmen groan, and so rare that even the library kept only a facsimile. He’d spent months trying to get a full look at the annotations in the original margin notes—especially the ones on page 117, which were rumored to contradict modern interpretati

More hungry. And floating above him, suspended in some kind of magical field, was a baby. Not my baby. This one looked maybe six months old, with black hair and red eyes that matched Malachar's. "What the fuck," I breathed. "A homunculus," Dante said beside me, his voice tight. "He created an artificial vessel to test the ritual on." "It's not working though," Taylor pointed out. "Look—the baby's disintegrating." He was right. The homunculus was literally falling apart, chunks of its body turning to ash and floating away.