The world performed a dizzying backflip, and Bruno crashed onto the ground, his shoulder bearing the brunt of the impact, emitting a sickening sound upon contact.

"Are you okay?" Mamadou inquired, standing over the boy against a backdrop of azure sky.

"Yeah," Bruno groaned, struggling to rise from the ground blanketed with lush, emerald grass.

Javohir chuckled as he continued his exercises, witnessing the spectacle of their sparring session.

Although his face contorted with pain, the young alchemist remained silent while he attempted to sit up. It was evident that his shoulder had suffered an injury, yet he stoically endured the agony.

"You don't look fine. Don't move," Mamadou instructed, positioning himself behind Bruno and kneeling down to inspect the injured shoulder.

"Oh, really? Maybe you shouldn't have thrown me to the ground then," Bruno retorted, anger evident in his voice.

Ever since the former assassin had offered to teach him new techniques during their sparring sessions, the boy knew there was something amiss. Mamadou had a strict policy against sparing with opponents significantly weaker than himself, indicating an ulterior motive behind his behavior.

"Your opponent won't go easy on you. You must train with the real fight in mind," the teacher explained.

"My opponent? Who? The maids? I think I can handle them."

Bruno's words, laced with heavy irony, received no response. Instead, the former assassin began a vigorous massage of the boy's shoulder.

"If you keep doing that, I'm canceling our training session. I enjoy them, but I prefer not to be in constant pain," Bruno whispered through gritted teeth.

Initially, there was no direct reply. Mamadou's fingers delved deeper into the young alchemist's muscles, eliciting groans of discomfort. His focus remained fixed on applying pressure to the injured area. However, his head gradually inched closer to Bruno's ear.

"Do you have a plan?" the man suddenly whispered.

The unexpected question momentarily caught the young alchemist off guard, causing a flicker of emotion to cross his face, quickly suppressed.

"I wanted you to deliver a message to the pirates, informing them of my presence and also you to free yourselves," he replied, ensuring his voice remained as hushed as possible.

"So, you don't want to escape with us?" Mamadou queried, a hint of confusion seeping into his voice.

"I can't leave. This collar will kill me, and I don't know how to remove it," the boy explained.

As the words escaped his lips, the cursed item sent a tingling sensation coursing through his neck—a warning that its magic could claim his life if he wasn't cautious.

"Then come up with a better plan. When you have one, we can talk," the man advised.

Bruno desired to retort, but he clenched his jaw shut as he noticed Javohir halting his exercises and observing them.

"Is everything alright?" the young gladiator asked, as he made his way toward them.

"It would be if someone didn't choose to take their frustrations out on me," Bruno grumbled. "Again."

Mamadou chuckled, bringing an end to the massage and rising to his feet.

"You're just weak. Let's call it a day. Rest up," he remarked.

The boy snorted, still in pain, anger etched across his face. He picked himself up and stormed off before Javohir could utter a word.

Mamun gazed at four distinct elixirs, each housed in its own bottle, neatly arranged in a row. Two bottles were small—one yellow, the other green—while the other two were considerably larger, one blue and the other purple. Behind the bottles, atop a relatively organized alchemical table, lay stacks of yellowed pages adorned with an intricate script and intricate drawings.

Adjacent to the table stood Bruno, poised and attentive.

"Are you sure?" inquired the elderly man, diverting his attention to the boy.

"I cannot be certain without conducting tests, but I believe it will yield significantly better results. I conducted slight experiments on the rats you provided, employing that peculiar device," Bruno replied, briefly gesturing toward an odd object further down the table.

The contraption featured three slender legs supporting a large hoop with smaller hoops contained within, all interconnected in a movable arrangement. Its core consisted of a pulsating blue gemstone, teeming with energy and etched with ancient runes.

"The effects appear considerably stronger compared to the original treatment. Not as potent as the unstable version I previously tested, but still significantly improved," Bruno explained.

"You mean the one that caused the rats to explode?" Mamun's smile hinted at amusement.

"It... was not ideal."

The old man chuckled.

"Very well. We shall commence your lessons tomorrow, along with the treatment," Mamun decided.

"Wait! Isn't this rather hasty? Further research is still necessary," Bruno protested.

"Didn't you just claim it was ready? Is it ready or not, boy?"

"It... it is, but... I would like to observe the reactions for a bit longer. Perhaps explore effects on something other than rats," the young alchemist crossed his arms and leaned against the adjacent wall.

"Are you afraid?" Mamun's amusement appeared to intensify as a smile graced his lips once more.

"Of course, I am afraid! I will be the one consuming this," Bruno retorted sharply.

"Relax, my child. I have studied the effects of the unstable version, just as you have. However, there is one minor distinction—I possess a genuine understanding of magic. I know that rats are not as adept at undergoing such transformations as humans. You will be fine. We shall commence tomorrow," Mamun reassured, moving forward to collect his notes from the table.

He left the elixirs undisturbed.

"Rest well. Tomorrow shall be a momentous day," he added before departing the laboratory.

Bruno sighed.

"Stop sighing. It is remarkable that you have accomplished all of this in less than a year, boy. Be proud!" Mamun's voice echoed from the corridor.

Bruno shook his head. Arguing with the archmage was futile. Over the time spent with Mamun, he had come to understand the elderly man quite well—stubborn, always asserting his final decisions.

Lately, Mamun's impatience had escalated. The rapid progress excited him, rendering him restless like a nobleman in a carriage nearing his estate after a long journey. Nagging the poor driver to go faster. He yearned to hasten forward, to advance to the next stage of his enigmatic plan. Despite their extended association, Bruno remained oblivious to the plan's purpose. One thing was certain: the archmage was willing to sacrifice those around him to achieve his ambitions, and that deeply troubled the young alchemist.