Chapter Twenty: Domain Artifacts

Carlos was momentarily stunned.

“The Eternal Tower, what kind of place is that?”

Du Buyi's eyes flickered, and with a melancholy sigh, he shook his head and replied, “That place? I’ve never been myself. Legend has it that the Eternal Tower is not only a sacred ground for alchemy, but also the sanctuary of dark sorcerers. Those who’ve been there say it’s a man-eating prison; those who haven’t, call it the domain of the gods.”

Carlos found himself more confused than ever. “Teacher, then... what exactly is the Eternal Tower?”

The old man snapped out of his confusion, glared at Carlos, and barked angrily, “If you’re asking me, who should I ask?”

Carlos was left speechless.

How could you boast so wildly when you can’t even explain where it is?

Having finished his explanation, Du Buyi hunched over and stood up, looking as though he was about to leave.

Carlos hurriedly rose with him and took out the demon-hunting pocket watch from his bosom. The silver-white dial was polished to a flawless shine, gleaming with the unique luster of silver.

“Teacher, are you familiar with this?” Carlos held out the pocket watch in his palm.

Du Buyi paused, one withered, bony arm propping against the back of the sofa, and turned his head slowly.

He gazed at the pocket watch in Carlos’s palm, his deeply wrinkled face betraying no emotion.

After a moment, the old man spoke faintly, “This is a domain artifact.”

Carlos frowned, a little surprised.

“Teacher, isn’t this a demon-hunting pocket watch? Used to detect the location of underground demons...”

Du Buyi interrupted with indifference, “This was given to you by your father, wasn’t it? Using it just to keep an eye on those underground rabble is such a waste.”

Carlos was silent for a moment.

“Teacher, what exactly is a domain artifact? I’ve only been using it for puppet communication practice, and all I can summon from it are phantoms.”

The old man pondered for a while, then reached out to take the pocket watch from Carlos’s hand and examined it closely before explaining slowly, “This is indeed a domain artifact, one that can only be awakened by those with summoning bloodlines.

Though the domain aura within is very faint, I can still sense it. If you ever obtain a compatible puppet, you could use your mental power to control it and hide the puppet within this small domain. But since you haven’t undergone the bloodline inheritance ceremony, using it for mental training is passable for now. As for its ability to detect nearby demons, that’s just because someone placed a trace of underground demon aura inside the domain, allowing it to naturally sense similar presences.”

Carlos was taken aback. He hadn’t expected that, by showing the pocket watch to Du Buyi on a whim, he’d learn so much about its secrets.

After Du Buyi finished, he seemed to lose all interest in the watch.

Carlos took the pocket watch, which the old man returned, and held it in his hands for a close look, but could sense nothing at all.

Domain aura?

He’d played with this pocket watch since he was a child, yet never knew it contained such a thing.

Still, showing Du Buyi the watch wasn’t his main purpose.

He quickly added, “Teacher, earlier upstairs, the pocket watch behaved abnormally.”

Carlos thought this would spark the old man’s concern.

But unexpectedly, Du Buyi appeared completely unconcerned. He simply flicked his arm, pursed his lips, and said, “So what? Do you really think those underground rats dare cause trouble here?”

With that, he didn’t wait for Carlos to reply. He took an unopened bottle of malt beer from the crate and slowly headed for the entrance to the basement on the right.

As he passed the still somewhat dazed Carlos, he tossed out a sentence and disappeared behind the closing door.

“For now, just focus on studying the alchemical texts I gave you. You needn’t worry about anything else. Also, there’s bread in the kitchen cabinet—help yourself if you’re hungry.”

Only then did Carlos come to his senses and agree.

Du Buyi went to the alchemy workshop in the basement, and Carlos had no intention of disturbing him.

Interrupting an alchemist at work was never a good idea.

Especially when that alchemist was such an irascible old man.

With half a month’s time at his disposal, he might as well make good use of it.

Carlos’s gaze returned to the few parchment volumes on the coffee table, his dark eyes narrowing with focus.

It was true—when you immerse yourself in something, time seems to sprout wings and fly.

Munching on dry bread, with another piece poised in his right hand ready for the next bite, Carlos turned the pages of “An Introduction to Alchemical Geometric Symbols” with his left, his expression deeply serious.

As dusk faded and the last light of sunset ebbed away, several crows outside cried, jolting Carlos from his dry-eyed concentration.

Only then did he lift his head and realize night had fallen, yet Du Buyi had not emerged from the basement.

Carlos rubbed his tired eyes, feeling fatigue set in; those damnably obscure alchemical symbols and geometric figures had overtaxed his mind.

The living room was dim, so Carlos searched the room in the fading light.

Fortunately, he found a small gas lamp tucked in the corner.

This lamp, with its gas inlet pipe, screw valve, and a metal tube with small holes at the base, was familiar to Carlos—he had used them at home many times and quickly lit it.

Gas lamps were convenient: turning the screw adjusted the gas flow, while rotating the metal tube regulated the air intake, allowing precise control over the flame’s temperature.

Lamp in hand, Carlos prepared to return to the sofa and take the parchment books upstairs to his room when suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor above startled him.

He paused, raising his head, and stared intently at the ceiling.

The noise was loud—indeed, it sounded distinctly like someone walking above, though the movement seemed rather slow.

Tap! Tap! Tap! The rhythm was unmistakable.

Could it be that witch? No, that wasn’t right—the witch’s room and the beast room were both near the stairs, not directly above the living room.

Carlos speculated anxiously, though after that embarrassing mishap this morning, he wasn’t exactly panicked.

The tapping continued, followed by the creak of a wooden door opening, then a thunderous bang as the door slammed shut.

Carlos still hadn’t figured out what was happening.

Then came another creak from deeper within the second floor, followed by a burst of light, hurried footsteps in the upstairs corridor.

A gruff, deep voice called out, “Hey, Vivian, quiet down, we’ve got a new guest tonight!”

A voice like that of a five- or six-year-old girl piped back, “I know! I can’t wait to meet him!”

Listening nervously to the commotion above, Carlos heard footsteps on the stairs and saw a figure dart down the steps like the wind. Before he could get a clear look, the figure was already in front of him.

A lively voice called out, “Hey! New roommate? I’m Vivian.”

Only when he saw a thin, child-sized figure—barely a meter tall—flapping her arms and looking up with excitement to greet him did Carlos snap out of his daze.

He lowered the gas lamp to get a better look at this visitor.

Then a huge, bull-like figure tramped down the stairs, each step heavy as thunder, coming into view before him.