Chapter 22: The Alchemy Workshop

Normally, the alchemy workshop would be bustling with life at this hour.

Inside were rows upon rows of alchemical equipment—bubbling crucibles, radiant magical crystals, and all manner of arcane tools.

But today, everything was different.

Ever since Phyllis’s advance notice, the atmosphere had changed drastically.

The vast workshop stood eerily silent.

The usual flurry of movement had vanished, replaced by empty workbenches and tools left out in disarray.

Lorin stood alone in the center of the workshop, her figure bathed in solitude.

One hand hung limply at her side while the other remained clenched tightly, bearing the clear imprint of a bite mark.

That bite mark was a brand of her humiliation.

Inwardly, she sighed at her own misfortune.

How had her life turned out like this?

As her eyes wandered across the shelves packed with alchemical materials, Lorin made up her mind to turn her humiliation into motivation.

She would begin crafting.

Next time Claire returned… she’d make sure that woman paid for it.

For now…

Lorin gripped a ring in her hand—something Chen Jie had given her before his departure.

She slowly withdrew materials from the ring.

With a soft glow, the components appeared before her eyes: a slender, twisted Void Branch, a shard of timeworn, corroded bronze, and a dust-fine powder made from turtle shell…

Lorin closed her eyes.

The refinement process surged through her mind in perfect clarity, every step etched into memory.

Catalyze the materials.

Fuse them.

Shape the form…

Finally, a core radiating a soft blue glow appeared in her palm.

Its gentle light illuminated her tired yet satisfied face.

“Oh—almost forgot about that thing,” she muttered.

Patting her head, Lorin looked around, deep in thought.

If Claire wanted to shirk responsibility and refuse to compensate her, then Lorin would just help herself.

Not long after, she returned to the workshop carrying an odd-looking mineral in her arms.

What she didn’t know, however, was that the workshop—being an alchemy lab—was never short on magical items.

From the shadows, Phyllis observed every movement within the room.

“It worked!”

Lorin beamed as she stared at the object in her hand—a cube that she cradled like a rare treasure.

Her original spatial cube could manipulate space.

It could divide the surrounding area into twenty-six segments—twenty-seven if you included the one it was currently in—like a magic Rubik’s Cube.

She could freely shift and rotate the spatial blocks at will.

That was how she’d managed to catch Claire off guard before.

But the cube had one fatal flaw: it lacked any offensive power.

This time, Lorin had made some… adjustments.

She added an attack mechanism—and given the sheer amount of materials she’d swiped from Phyllis’s warehouse, well, she couldn’t help but go a little overboard.

She also tacked on a few auxiliary features…

Clutching the intricately designed spatial cube, Lorin’s smile grew wider.

She gently rotated its sides, her every movement filled with delicate reverence, as if nothing in the world could captivate her more than this.

So absorbed was she in her joy that she failed to notice the creeping presence behind her.

Silent as a ghost, Phyllis suddenly appeared.

She reached out and—snatch!—grabbed the spatial cube from Lorin’s hands.

A mischievous grin spread across her face as she began examining the artifact with glee.

“Give it back!”

Lorin gasped as if waking from a dream.

Her eyes widened with alarm and fury.

She lunged for the cube, but space rippled slightly around Phyllis, allowing her to slip effortlessly out of reach.

Standing just a few feet away, Phyllis smirked, toying with the cube like a child who’d just stolen a toy.

“How did you—?”

Lorin spun around, staring at her.

“Did Claire tell you?”

“Bingo! Got it in one. So, Linlin~ Do you want a prize for getting it right?”

Phyllis chirped, eyes twinkling.

“Give it back!”

Lorin barked, not daring to move.

She knew the cube inside and out—she had built it.

One wrong step could teleport her somewhere ridiculous.

Phyllis, seeing Lorin’s caution, sighed with disappointment.

Had Lorin taken just one step forward, she would’ve ended up directly inside Phyllis’s bedroom.

“Did you hear me?!” Lorin yelled.

“But Auntie just really wants to play with this cute little thing…”

“Then make one yourself!”

Lorin snapped back mercilessly.

With Claire gone, she had no reason to keep up any good-girl act.

“Aha! Mother dearest leaves, and the little fox shows her true colors!”

Phyllis teased, delighted.

With big sis gone, it was time to properly mess with her niece.

After all, this niece of hers was always talking smack behind her back anyway…

“Hmph! She’s not even my mother!”

“Oh? Then why are you drinking my sister’s blood?”

“I… I…”

Lorin stammered, then quickly changed the subject.

“Just give it back already!”

“Let me play with it for a bit first. Bye-bye, my sweet little niece~”

With a wink, Phyllis vanished into thin air, leaving Lorin fuming alone in the middle of the workshop.

“Ughhh!”

Lorin let out a frustrated wail.

Of course Phyllis would reveal her true nature the moment Claire was gone.

That poised, regal queenly air?

All for show.

Deep down, she was just a feral rascal.

Then again… Lorin conveniently forgot that she might’ve been the one who’d turned Phyllis into that.

Not that it mattered right now.

What did matter was that her precious artifact—the one she’d painstakingly created—had just been snatched away.

“No way! I have to get it back!”

That spatial cube was one of her trump cards.

In someone else’s hands, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

Determined, Lorin turned and left.

She needed to figure out a proper plan to reclaim her creation.

From a shadowed corner, an elderly vampire stepped forward, his long black robe sweeping the floor.

He removed the glasses perched on his nose and wiped them with his sleeve.

“Her Majesty hasn’t smiled like that in a long time…” he murmured.

His deep, aged voice carried the polish of an old-fashioned butler—a peculiar tone for someone who was, by all appearances, an alchemist.