I Awakened The Ancient Vampire System

Chapter 170: Chapter 170: Ghost in the Courtyard

The First Test had arrived.

Allistar led Lucian back to the alchemy room on a morning.

Allistar placed a wooden box on the bench beside the cauldron. Inside were herbs — seven of them, each wrapped in preservation paper. He set them out in a row.

"Tier 2 Mana Gathering Pill. On Earth, they call it a Sky Grade Mana Gathering Pill. Same thing. Different name." He tapped the bench. "You’ve memorized the recipe?"

Lucian nodded. He’d spent three days committing every detail to memory — ingredient quantities, extraction temperatures, fusion sequence, cooling time.

"Good. Begin."

Lucian unwrapped the first herb — a small, blue-leafed plant called Mana Vein Grass. He placed it on the jade cutting board and picked up the silver knife. His hands were steady. His Mental Power spread outward, wrapping around the herb like invisible fingers, sensing its internal structure — the veins of concentrated mana running through each leaf, the impurities clinging to the stem, the optimal cutting angle that would preserve the active compounds.

He sliced. The impurities fell away. The essence remained — a small cluster of translucent blue fibers that pulsed with mana.

He moved to the second herb. Then the third. Each one required a different approach — different temperatures, different tools, different extraction techniques. His Mental Power guided every cut, every separation, every purification.

Twenty minutes passed before all seven herbs were purified.

"Essence fusion," Allistar said from his stool. He hadn’t spoken until now. "Sequence."

Lucian placed the copper cauldron over the flame tool and ignited it. The mana-powered flame licked the bottom of the cauldron with a steady blue heat. He adjusted the temperature using his Mental Power — a thin, precise layer of mental energy pressing against the flame, narrowing its intensity.

He added the first essence. The Mana Vein Grass dissolved into the heated cauldron, turning into a thin blue liquid. He waited thirty seconds — exactly thirty — and added the second. The liquid shifted color. Then the third. The fourth. Each addition changed the mixture’s density, color, and energy signature. The cauldron hummed.

Halfway through the fifth essence, the mixture bubbled violently. Lucian’s Mental Power caught the instability — a pocket of trapped energy expanding unevenly. He compressed the bubble with a sharp pulse of mental force, flattening it before it could rupture the fusion.

"Tch," Allistar muttered. "Faster reaction next time. You hesitated for half a second."

The fifth, sixth, and seventh essences merged. The liquid in the cauldron turned a deep, saturated blue — the color of concentrated mana. It swirled slowly.

"Flame Sealing," Allistar said.

Lucian pressed his Mental Power down against the cauldron’s opening. He imagined the energy as a lid. A barrier of mental force that sealed the cauldron’s contents, preventing the volatile mixture from dissipating while the internal reaction completed. The sealed essence churned beneath his mental grip, pressing upward, testing his control.

His arms trembled. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The Mental Power required to maintain the seal was substantial — more than he’d expected. His Mind Palace hummed in response, feeding additional mental energy through the connection, reinforcing his grip.

Three minutes. The churning slowed as the mixture stabilized.

"Pill Formation," Allistar said.

Lucian removed the flame. The cauldron cooled rapidly. He reached into it with his Mental Power — not his hands — and found the condensed essence settling at the bottom. It was a thick, semi-solid mass, still warm, still pliable. He pressed down on it with everything he had. Mental force compressed the mass from every direction simultaneously.

"Harder," Allistar said.

Lucian pushed harder. The mass collapsed inward, folding into itself, compressing tighter and tighter until it was no longer a mass but a shape — round, smooth, dense. A pill.

"Quenching."

Lucian grabbed a chilled jade plate from the bench — it had been sitting in ice water for exactly this purpose. He lifted the pill from the cauldron with Mental Power and dropped it onto the cold jade. The pill sizzled. Steam hissed upward — tssssss — as the rapid cooling locked the medicinal compounds into their final structure, sealing the mana within.

The steam cleared.

A small, blue pill sat on the jade plate.

Allistar leaned forward. He picked up the pill and held it to the light. His closed eyes narrowed — reading the pill’s energy with spiritual perception rather than sight.

"Acceptable," he said. "Mana density is within the correct range. Purity is approximately 87%. Impurity content is higher than ideal but within safe limits." He set the pill down. "For a first attempt, this is... quite okay."

Lucian exhaled. His entire body was shaking. His Mental Power was nearly depleted.

Lucian says, still catching his breath. "From you, I’ll take that as a compliment."

The month ended.

Lucian’s alchemy training had refined his Mental Power significantly.

His alchemy success rate on Tier 1 pills was now near perfect — he could produce basic mana recovery and healing pills with his eyes closed. He had also successfully refined two more Tier 2 pills since the first Mana Gathering Pill — both Body Tempering Pills of good quality. Allistar had grudgingly called them "passable."

Now, it was time for their second year at the academy.

Students flooded back through the academy gates.

The numbers were visibly smaller than the first year. Some had died. Some had transferred to safer institutions. Some had simply quit — the reality of a world where power meant survival had broken them.

New transfer students arrived alongside the returning ones.

Lucian, Rose, and Clara walked through the main courtyard toward the Combat Department building. The morning sun caught the white walls of the academy and turned them gold. Students moved in clusters — some heading to dormitories, others to the mess hall, others standing in groups and trading stories of their holiday.

Clara and Rose walked beside Lucian, her silver hair catching the light.

Ryan had split off at the gates, heading toward the Research Department building on the northern side of campus.

The three of them crossed the courtyard. A few students nodded at Lucian — some with respect, some with curiosity. His reputation from the ICL had preceded him.

They reached the entrance of the Combat Department’s main building.

And Lucian stopped.

Standing at the entrance, surrounded by a small group of new transfer students who were looking at her with a mixture of fascination and confusion, was a girl he hadn’t seen in over a year or more.

Except he did see her in New Geneva.

Lemora Du Maurier.

Her dark hair fell past her shoulders in loose waves. She wore the standard academy uniform.

Her lips curved into a smile the moment she saw him.

She walked up to him, moving through the small crowd of transfer students who parted for her.

"Lucian."

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