Chapter 581: Regret Will Follow
The news spread through Northend as if it had grown wings—everyone thought Pickman's idea was downright insane.
However, dissent was almost nonexistent.
In those days, Pickman was the supreme authority in puppet alchemy; every alchemist specializing in golems could only look up to him.
Shortly after this idea was proposed, the Third Dynasty Royal Family gave Pickman enormous support, sending countless troops and court alchemists to flatten mountains, capture magical beasts, and deliver them to the imperial capital for his experiments.
For three whole years, the Third Dynasty poured endless manpower and resources into the project. By then, Pickman's experiments were nearing completion. After countless trials, he finally succeeded in implanting magical beast organs into alchemical golems—just as he had promised three years ago, the modified constructs became monstrously powerful.
Though the costs were staggering, the benefits this research brought to the Third Dynasty were beyond words—it elevated their military might to an entirely new level...
Soon, the court alchemists mastered Pickman's transformation techniques. With a single order, all alchemical golems in the empire were sent to the imperial capital. It took nearly a year to implant magical beast organs in them, and their combat strength soared by several levels...
It should have been a good thing...
But soon after, incidents of alchemical golems running amok and injuring people began to occur. At first, few paid attention—most assumed it was an internal malfunction. But as time passed, more and more golems lost control...
It spread like locusts—entire cities saw their alchemical golems erupt in collective uprising, breaking free from human control and launching relentless attacks. In just three months, city after city fell. A shadow hung over the empire. No matter how many troops were dispatched to suppress the golems, the chaos refused to subside...
Only then did people realize that perhaps it was Pickman's sweeping wave of transformation that had caused the golems to spiral out of control, plunging the empire into crisis.
But by the time anyone understood, it was already too late—the damage was done...
For ten long years, the once-glorious Third Dynasty crashed from its heights. Their armies were decimated, and only after countless close calls did they finally manage to destroy the last of the rogue golems...
This disaster left the Third Dynasty deeply wounded...
Afterward, Pickman was never seen again...
Some speculated that Pickman, realizing the magnitude of his mistake, fled Northend for the endless planes, knowing he’d be executed if he stayed. Others believed he never escaped at all, and was secretly put to death by the royal family...
Either way, from that day on, the topic of the Golem Uprising—and even Pickman's name—became absolute taboo. No one dared mention it again.
The Third Dynasty Royal Family deliberately erased this chapter from history. Pickman's name was buried forever; future alchemists had no idea such a creator ever existed.
Yet tens of thousands of years later, during the Age of Magical Zenith, a band of mad mages dug up tomb after tomb. Finally, in a royal descendant’s grave, they unearthed the lost history. Pickman's name echoed across Northend once more...
That hidden chapter of history saw countless alchemical golems modified with magical beast organs, their power growing immense—until a revolt erupted, and city after city of the empire fell...
When this history resurfaced, mages across Northend were stunned. It also solved a long-standing mystery: why the once-glorious Third Dynasty Royal Family collapsed almost overnight, never recovering and finally fading into oblivion.
Countless alchemists, nearly driven mad, hunted for Pickman's research. Its allure was fatal to them. Years of searching finally revealed some clues...
Strictly speaking, it was a ruin. Its owner was an alchemist and creator from Pickman's era. After the alchemical golem uprising in the Third Dynasty, he preserved Pickman's transformation plan. Unfortunately, after tens of thousands of years, the crystal storing the records was damaged. The alchemists obtained only a fragment of the plan.
But...
Even an incomplete plan was enough to drive the alchemists mad. By then, puppet alchemy had reached its peak—decades, even centuries, brought no breakthroughs. After years of study, the alchemists concluded that this approach might truly bring a major breakthrough to the field...
However, there was one crucial factor...
How to prevent the alchemical golems from losing control after modification...
Of course, for the Age of Magical Zenith, when magical civilization was at its peak, this wasn't much of a problem. While studying the incomplete plan, the alchemists identified the issue and made improvements. They were confident the modified golems wouldn't lose control.
Yet, decades later, those alchemists realized they were wrong...
They really underestimated Pickman's genius...
They thought the incomplete transformation plan was no big deal—that a group of alchemists could reconstruct it after some research. But after decades of effort, they still failed.
At that point, no matter how unwilling they were, they had no choice but to abandon the project; there was simply no point in continuing...
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This became one of the greatest regrets among Northend's alchemists...
They were certain that if the full transformation plan had been recovered—or if it had never been lost—the field of puppet alchemy would have undergone a revolutionary leap.
"Damn it, damn it all..." At that moment, Anderson wore a haunted expression, cursing furiously before glaring at Leon. "Merlin, I have to admit, you're a madman..."
Honestly, he couldn't begin to understand the young mage's thinking...
That alchemical golem, before it was damaged, was a genuine Sky Rank construct, crafted by none other than Igor the Azure Sage—the greatest puppet alchemist in history.
Even damaged, at the rate the young mage was progressing, it wouldn’t be long before the golem’s power reached terrifying heights—perhaps even returning to Sky Rank...
But...
He had just discovered, among all those formulas and data, that the young mage actually intended to implant the Hydra Heart into the alchemical golem, replacing its original power system.
It was sheer madness...
If the fusion succeeded, the golem would inherit the Hydra's strength and innate spells, reaching an entirely new level of power.
But had the young mage considered what consequences might follow...?
It was almost certain—just like thousands of years ago—the golem would lose control.
What truly infuriated Anderson was that, despite knowing the risks, the young mage refused to abandon the project and insisted on forging ahead.
Madness... This time, he's truly lost it!
Leon tore his gaze from the scattered notes and fixed it on Anderson, breaking the silence: "Hand over the specific transformation plan Pickman developed..."
"You... I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"You definitely know..."
"How could I possibly know! If you want the transformation plan, go ask Pickman..."
"Heh..."
Leon let out a mirthless laugh, saying nothing more, but kept smiling at Anderson.
"Enough. That's the end of it..." After being stared at for over ten minutes, Anderson grew visibly uncomfortable. He turned into a cloud of black smoke, preparing to return to the Arcane Wheel.
"Damn..."
But just then, the young mage stopped him, and Anderson became thoroughly exasperated: "Damn it, I'll be honest with you, Merlin—if I give you the transformation plan, I'm not helping you, I'm harming you. Do you understand that at all?"
At this, Leon's smile grew even wider, and he secretly breathed a sigh of relief. "So you do know..."
Honestly, Leon hadn't been sure until he got a straight answer.
From the formulas and data on those notes, Anderson could tell Leon wanted to implant the Hydra Heart into a Sky Rank golem, and had referenced the incident in the mid-Third Dynasty. But even so, Leon couldn't be sure Anderson actually knew Pickman's transformation plan.
But now, everything was clear—Anderson really did know...
"Damn..." Anderson cursed under his breath, then fell silent, his three faces dark and brooding, clearly disgruntled with Leon.
And so, Anderson couldn't return to the Arcane Wheel, forced to remain in a stalemate with Leon.
Half an hour quickly passed...
Finally, Anderson couldn't take it anymore. He burst out laughing—an abrupt, unsettling sound that lasted for minutes before he stopped. "Merlin, as you wish..."
With that, a swirl of black mist condensed into a dense array of magical runes in the void. When he finished, Anderson dove into the Arcane Wheel—this time, Leon didn't stop him. Anderson's cold laughter echoed from within: "You'll regret this!"
Leon ignored Anderson, his gaze fixed on the runes hanging in the void. A smile crept onto his lips as he scribbled away with his quill, recording everything onto the notes...