Chapter 4

    The Cursed Furnace 3

    "Sir Branford." Las called out to the person leading him through the corridor lined with countless rooms. Judging by the signs, these rooms stored magical essences and potion-making materials, which attracted Las’s interest.

    "What is it?" The other replied flatly, not even bothering to look back.

    "What is the plan for today?" Las inquired. Branford shrugged.

    "Well, you might like it. Today, we have an ancient furnace to be displayed at the memorial event for the God of Elixir, Rezan, that will be held in five days."

    Las nodded in understanding. Although it was a cleaning job, the prospect of handling antiques related to legendary figures piqued his interest. Suddenly, Branford stopped walking, causing Las, who was following closely, to nearly bump into him.

    "My bad, I was so caught up in meetings that I forgot the key." Branford exclaimed loudly.

    "Huh?" Las responded, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

    "You go ahead first. At the end of this corridor, there's an old wooden door. Wait for me there." Branford instructed before swiftly heading back the way they came. Las sighed, frustrated at the missed opportunity to inquire about further training. Every time he intended to ask, something like this would happen.

    With a reluctant sigh, Las continued down the corridor. Soon, he reached the large wooden door Branford mentioned. Just looking at it, Las could feel a strange power emanating, then he saw specks of light of various colors seeping through the door...

    Although peculiar, it was something he could notice even before the ceremony that awakened his elemental power. Las felt he could sense the aura of power, albeit faintly.

    His right hand lightly touched the ancient door, and from the carved patterns, it was clear that the door was very old. Closing his eyes, Las felt the familiar sensation of awakening his elemental power, as if floating in the air. That time he was so shocked that he opened his eyes, but this time, he was more accustomed to the feeling and then allowed himself to drift away… It wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation…

    "That kid is truly an idiot."

    A familiar voice snapped Las out of his trance, but upon fully regaining his senses, he was even more confused. He had been in front of the grand wooden door, but now he found himself in the hallway beneath the main staircase, with footsteps echoing above and laughter ringing in his ears.

    "You shouldn't let Sir Ceren know what you did."

    This new voice was unfamiliar to Las. Soon, two young men appeared, descending to the ground floor, revealing themselves fully to Las. One of them was Branford, leaving Las momentarily stunned as he recalled the first snippet of conversation he overheard.

    An idiot... Who?

    "Hahaha, who knows? At most, I'll just say he's a pathetic kid. No matter how much training, he won't improve. Why should I waste my time teaching such trash?"

    Las heard every word clearly this time, standing frozen, unable to believe his ears. It was a moment when all trust vanished, leaving him with a suffocating feeling in his chest, worse than any insult from Belz.

    The words from someone he trusted, compared to those from someone known for their harsh tongue, carried a very different weight.

    Tears streamed down his cheeks, but Las could do nothing more than stand still, listening to the two adults mock him. His mind seemed to shut down once more, and he found himself back in front of the grand wooden door, trembling with confusion and sorrow. The vision and sounds he had just experienced felt too real to be a mere illusion. He had been deceived again... He had already drowned in enough sorrow, and it was then that a deep voice laughed nearby, forcing him to look up.

    "Who's there?" he shouted, urging the person to reveal themselves. The laughter grew louder, filling the area.

    "Stop hiding and come out now!" Las had endured enough and could not tolerate it any longer. Suddenly, the laughter ceased.

    "How naive. How long have you been fooled without realizing it? How hilarious. Magic is the study of knowledge. relying solely on physical labor won't advance your abilities."

    The deep voice continued, making Las tremble with rage.

    "That's none of your business. Just who are you? Show yourself!" Las shouted, scanning the surroundings, but there was no one there, not even a single shadow.

    "I'm right in front of you. If you want to meet me, just open the door."

    Las turned back to the door... by now, it was the only door in front of him.

    "You're hiding behind the door, coward." Las muttered, but the voice ceased along with the laughter. Everything fell silent as if he had been hallucinating. He stood before the same door once again, but now the shimmering lights had vanished. He pushed it gently, the previously sealed shut ancient door was now opened invitingly, as if beckoning him inside. Yet, when he entered, he found no one there. Part of him was frightened, but another part was mesmerized by the sight...

    Dim light from fire magic sparks provided some illumination in the small room, filled with herbs, gems, and several furnaces for making potions. But what caught his eye the most was...

    A small, portable bronze furnace with a handle, lying amidst what seemed to be trash. It was a type of furnace he had never seen before. After opening the lid, it revealed the four sections seemingly divided for separate ingredients—a peculiar design since furnaces typically have a single chamber for direct elemental fusion. He couldn't fathom how it would work.

    "How would you make a potion with this?" Las mused aloud, not expecting an answer, yet one came.

    "You have to look at the lid. See that mechanism? When twisted, it allows the ingredients to mix."

    It was the same deep voice he thought he had misheard and thought it had disappeared. Suddenly, he felt an icy chill, sending shivers down his spine. This wasn't good, he thought as he stumbled backward, preparing to flee from the room, but the door slammed shut. He tried to brace himself up, his throat tightening as he slowly turned back to the way he had come. At the door, there was a shadow.

    The shadow gradually became clearer, his legs wouldn't stop shaking, and he found himself involuntarily gulping, trying to moisten his dry throat.

    "You are the one I've been waiting for. Don't even think about escaping." the voice said... It was unmistakably the voice that had lured him here!

    "Who are you?!" Las yelled, his voice almost failing him. The person, or should he call it a ghost, looked puzzled at its own translucent form, then broke into a wide grin.

    "I've been dead for hundreds of years, of course, I'm a ghost."

    The man with long, jet-black hair dressed in a gray cloak answered casually. By now, his form was much clearer, but still slightly blurred... The unclear face with eyes, nose, and mouth overlapping each other made it look even more eerie. The sparks in the room flickered as if some energy made them do so, and there was only one ghost. The boy's mouth twisted into a grimace, and he began to tremble... and scream.

    "Whoa!" Las screamed, but the ghost paid no attention to him and pointed at the furnace he was holding at that moment.

    "Alright, take that furnace and leave this place."

    "No."

    The ghost then just giving orders? His tongue slipped without thinking, tossing the furnace forcefully onto the ground. The pot, the dishes, and other the legendary tools shattered into pieces, but he couldn’t care less and scrambled to escape. However, the ghost just smirked and enveloped the boy's body, and soon it vanished.

    Now Las stood up again, raised his hand, and grinned coldly, chuckling under his breath. He bent down to pick up the furnace, dusted it off with care, and then used his clean shirt to wipe it…

    "What are you doing? What have you done to my body!!" Las yelled, trying to prevent his clothes from getting dirtier, but he couldn't move his body.

    "I'm just possessing you and about to leave this place." the ghost said in a clear voice and smiled. If anyone saw him, they would surely think he was a madman talking to himself.

    But that wasn't the point. The ghost didn't just talk. it pushed open the door with a bang and stepped out quickly. Las was paralyzed, unable to move even a finger.

    "I get to move my body again! Ah ah ah, again!" He ran off while singing a song from an unknown era. But the way his body was running and skipping, looking so delighted, made Las want to cry.

    That damn ghost, not only tricking him but also possessing his body, then acting like a madman. This made him want to bury his head into the stone walls and escape reality. No, no. This must be a dream, surely.

    Las tried to comfort himself even though he knew well that dreams couldn't be this vivid and maddening.

    The ghost took his body to walk aimlessly, and soon they were in the central hall, facing Branford who was walking to him.

    "What are you doing, you reckless kid! I told you to wait, but you ignored my orders. You worthless brat!" Branford cursed, visibly irritated. Las went from being shocked to angry in an instant, remembering the words that the man had just shared with his friend... but then his lips spread into a smile automatically, and his mouth moved on its own.

    "I can go wherever I want, it's none of your business. A worthless instructor like you doesn't recognize the potential of your student. You'd better get out of my sight before you get hurt."

    Las was startled for a moment. It was the same as Branford, his eyes wide open in shock, then narrowing in anger.

    "How dare you, you little punk!!" Branford shouted furiously, but the ghost didn't care at all. He was standing there with a smug smile, casually placing his left hand behind his back.

    "Alright, since you've taken me in as a cleaner., I'll clean this one last time before I go."

    The ghost said, lightly tapping the floor. In an instant, as the sound of crystals clashing echoed, and water flowed over the entire hall, even climbing the stairs to the second floor. In no time, the floor was completely flooded, including the walls and ceiling. He grinned widely while Branford stood gaping, dumbfounded.

    "What the hell did you do!!" Branford screamed at what he saw. What appeared before his eyes, was no longer a low-level power.

    Then the ghost snapped his fingers lightly, but the sound echoed loudly throughout. The water evaporated into fine mists, and in a blink, it was invisible to the naked eye. The floors, walls, ceilings, all were shining, and at Branford's feet rolled a small, black, fist-sized ball.

    "You... you!!"

    Branford was sweating profusely, feeling as if he had witnessed a miracle. His mouth trembled, and his legs shook. Using water to cover the whole hall, Then collecting all the dust into a ball, it was a high-level technique. Not to mention him, even the head instructor couldn't do this in such a large and magnificent hall as he had just witnessed.

    "Excuse me, you are not worthy to be this kid's instructor. I will train him myself."

    The ghostly kid spoke vaguely, then hurried out the main door, leaving Branford’s head empty. Branford couldn't think of anything else, even if he wanted to hold him back, he wouldn't have been able to react in time. Suddenly, others who were affected by the water assault opened the doors, emerging from all directions.

    "What just happened?!"

    Almost everyone looked in the same direction, at the young man sitting dumbfounded in the middle of the large hall. Branford was still pale as if he had seen a ghost. He shook his head in response.

    "I don't know what happened... I really don't know, I swear..."

    That was all Branford could come up with...