Vardon had informed Lucen that the Alchemist that the Yellow Tower was sending a genius alchemist, the youngest to achieve four circles before reaching thirty years old. The name of the Alchemist was Robert Duskwell.
When Lucen heard the name of the person coming, he was quite surprised. In the original game, which was set to start more than a decade from now, the yellow tower was no longer there.
Most of the Alchemists of the yellow tower joined their rival tower, the grey tower. The rest scattered to their hometowns or disappeared entirely. Only one remained among the ruins of the forgotten tower, the so-called Mad Genius, Robert Duskwell.
Robert was a named NPC who assisted the hero's party, mostly by selling potions, strange trinkets, and volatile contraptions. One of his most well-known creations was a makeshift grenade called Brimstone Bloom.
It wasn't as destructive as a third-circle fire spell, but it had one major advantage: anyone could use it. Mana or not, noble or commoner, even the squishiest support character could hurl one and cause a decent explosion. A bit expensive, sure, but you could buy them in bulk, and it gave non-combat characters a way to meaningfully contribute in a fight.
The Robert in-game was someone the word eccentric was made for. Another thing Lucen remembered was that Robert was very stingy and would always find ways to get money for his experiments.
'If I remember correctly, his backstory said that the Yellow Tower fell due to financial ruin. That's why he became so obsessed with money to keep his research going, no matter what. But now... He's coming here before all that happened. I wonder if he's still the same person.'
...
A wiry man with unkempt violet-dark hair and ink-stained gloves, Robert Duskwell stepped down from the wagon with a groan. A bulging satchel was slung over his shoulder, crammed with rolled-up parchment, potion vials, and many other materials.
Robert Duskwell exhaled loudly and muttered, "Finally. If I had to endure one more mile of that damn wheel squealing like a banshee, I would've transmuted it into dust."
He set his bag down with a heavy thud, then stretched a bit as he took in the sight before him.
Ironhold.
The fortress city of the Thorneharts towered over the northern plains like a bastion carved from the bones of the land itself. Massive walls rose high, etched with runes powered by mana stones, which activate the shielding spells to fortify the wall. With a quick glance, one could see quite a number of soldiers patrolling the area.
"A rather impressive sight to behold, as expected of the fortress city that shielded the kingdom from all invaders."
Behind him, the wagon driver coughed awkwardly.
Robert blinked, then turned. "Right, you're still here." Robert rummaged through his satchel and handed the wagon driver a few silver coins. Once the wagon driver got his money, he smiled.
Robert grabbed the bag again, grunting at its weight, and strode toward the gate. As Robert trudged forward, his boots crunched over hardened frost layered atop gravel. Snow dusted the road like powdered chalk, trailing behind each of his steps. The wind was like a knife slicing across his face despite the thick woolen scarf wrapped around his neck. He exhaled, and his breath came out in thick white clouds.
"Cold," he muttered, pulling his coat tighter. "Of course it's cold. This place has the longest winters in the kingdom." He sighed, thinking about how long he would stay here to teach.
The snow wasn't the soft, romantic sort poets babbled about. No, this was northern snow, old, stubborn, and crusted with ice. It piled on rooftops like sullen drunks refusing to go home. It clung to stone and crept into boots. Even beyond the walls, you could see the smoke coming from the numerous chimneys.
The wind howled again, and Robert instinctively pulled his scarf higher, eyes narrowing. His voice was muffled now.
"The locals live in this place like this? Every. Single. Day?... Hmm... This is giving me an idea, maybe I can create some sort of heating mechanism in the clothes. Oh, that's an interesting thing. Maybe I could even add a function were you can cool yourself as well in the heat."
Robert once again started muttering to himself. One of the guards noticed Robert, and when he saw the crest of the yellow tower on Robert's robe, he knew that this person was the Alchemist, their lord was waiting for.
"Excuse me, sir. Are you perhaps the alchemist Robert Duskwell?" the guard asked, but Robert did not respond; he simply continued muttering to himself.
"Sir, do you hear me?"
Still no response. After trying a lot of other things like shaking Robert, shouting at him, and even threatening him.
Eventually, the guards resorted to simply taking his arm and guiding him toward the city. So lost in thought, Robert didn't even register that he was being dragged away. His feet moved automatically, carrying him in the direction his mind hadn't yet caught up to.
...
Robert, who was deep in thought, felt someone was about to touch his bag, so he instinctively moved and stopped the hand that was going to touch his bag.
"If you try and steal from me, I'll use your body for materials."
When Robert was out of his train of thought, he finally realized that he was no longer outside the walls of Ironhold. He was now in a place similar to his lab, but with better equipment, and there were even some things that he could not recognize.
It was then he noticed the one who was trying to touch his bag. It was a boy, who looked to be nine to twelve years of age, he had silver hair and ruby red eyes. Unlike his scrawny build, the boy had a fit, muscular body. The boy pulled his hand away and did a knight's bow before speaking.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Yellow Tower's genius Robert Duskwell. I am the eldest son of Duke Vardon, my name is Lucen Thornehart."
"I see, so you are the kid I'm going to teach. Hmm... How curious, I heard you just gained your mana core, but I can see that you already have your first circle."
"Well, that just happened," Lucen answered while shrugging his shoulders.
"Just happened, huh... Well, it doesn't matter to me how you gained your first circle; I didn't come here for that anyway. I'm much more curious about that thing on the wall."
Robert approached the particular object on the wall and examined it. The object in question was long, made of dark wood and blackened iron, with a single narrow hole at the end, no blade, no string, no visible enchantments.
'Is this perhaps some sort of staff?... No, that can't be it.' Robert was now looking at the iron parts that clearly weren't meant for channeling mana. Unable to hold his curiosity any longer, Robert turned around.
"What is this contraption?"
The second Robert asked that question, Lucen smiled.