Patrick Laplante
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Pandora Unchained - B1C52: Analysis
🕑 Added 2023-12-19 19:16:25 +0000 UTCI am going on vacation for about a week, so I'm uploading all the chapters for that period of time in advance.
Merry Christmas!
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Sorin ate a hearty breakfast the following day with toast, ham, and a poached egg covered in a creamy sauce. When Sorin asked about this new dish, Percival confessed that he'd been learning from a chef in town in his spare time.
"He was short on staff, while I had not much to do in your absence," said Percival. "And now, we're all better off for it."
Having had his fill, Sorin secluded himself in his office. Due to the infusion of gold into the household, there was now ample paper and manafuse pens. Lorimer was especially fond of these pens, but after a few rounds of scolding, he stopped eating their tips and focused instead on patrolling the streets for food sources.
It was early afternoon when Sorin felt ready to analyze his physical condition. He combed through his meridians, blood vessels, and muscles, taking extra care in looking out for signs of corruption. As usual, he found none; the Ten Thousand Poison Canon was highly potent in rejecting corruption and had yet to show any side effects.
Sorin now had 12 unblocked primary meridians and 5 unblocked extraordinary meridians. Theoretically, only two extraordinary meridians could still be unlocked. Namely the Belt Vessel and the Conception Vessel.
I'm still not convinced that it's impossible to unlock the Governing Vessel, thought Sorin as he tapped his pen on the piece of paper he'd used to map out his meridians and acupoints. The source of his confidence lay in the condition of his acupoints.
I have no idea how it happened, but six of the silver seals on my Conception Vessel have loosened, thought Sorin. The meridian is still clogged and won't function until the seals are undone. But how did it happen? What prompted this? He hadn't consumed any cultivation supplements or additional poisons since his last inspection. Sirius's research notes didn't mention such occurrences.
Another critical factor was that only a physician could discover the strange silver seals. He very much doubted that Stephan was aware of them and was likely only aware of the loosening on an instinctual level. He knew this because patients seldom knew how many meridians they had unlocked. This was especially the case for extraordinary meridians.
Then there's Stephan's 20 unblocked silver seals, thought Sorin. There's also his strange mutation during combat. Why did his form suddenly change? Why did he suddenly grow more powerful? Typically, such things would only happen due to a mid-combat breakthrough.
Unfortunately, he would need to wait for a more private setting to verify his hypothesis that the two were linked. He also needed to finish verifying his own condition before doing anything else.
Conveniently, Percival arrived and knocked on his door. "I made the trip to the Alchemists Association as you instructed."
"And?" asked Sorin. "Did they cause you any problems?"
"No, they did not," said Percival. "I was able to successfully obtain the things you requested. Shall I take them down the laboratory?"
"Please do, Percival," said Sorin. "I'll be right down." He scribbled a few more ideas down before going to the basement.
Sorin had yet to go to the basement since the Kepler Clan's ransacking. Percival had long since cleaned up the mess and rearranged the furniture in case Sorin wanted to use the room. His original glassware was long gone, but thanks to Percival's recent trip, he now had a set of beakers, test tubes, and separatory funnels. Not enough to be called a legitimate alchemical laboratory, but enough for him to mix and heat ingredients without contaminating them.
"I don't have the funds to repair the ventilation formation yet, so you and Clarice must avoid the area," Sorin instructed.
"Perhaps you should also wait until these arrangements are made?" suggested Percival.
Sorin shook his head. "I'm mostly immune to these poisons and won't be working with large quantities. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine."
Sorin proceeded to unpack the ingredients Percival had purchased. The main ingredients were veridian chalkstone, amethyst thistle, deathward sap, and three lesser-known neutralizers and anti-venoms. He mixed these into an all-purpose anti-poison solution diluted in liquified mana extract.
Let's see how potent my mana has gotten now that I've increased my strength to the 8th level of blood thickening, thought Sorin. He measured a set quantity of neutralizers and channeled a small quantity of mana into a mana crystal. The crystal would only accept a certain quantity of mana, regardless of density.
He then repeated the same experiment with ten milliliters of his blood. By back-calculating the volume and the remaining potency of the neutralizer, he could gauge the rough virulence of his poisons.
The results surprised Sorin. Not only were his poisons resistant to neutralization, taking a long time to react with the reagents, but they also slightly exceeded the scope of one-star strength.
This isn't enough for me to pierce through the membrane blocking my Belt Vessel, Sorin thought. I lack the mana volume to clear it out and will have to wait until my next breakthrough.
This highlighted Sorin's other problem: unblocking his companions' extraordinary meridians. Unlocking his own meridians required his mana to have a specific volume and available potency, which he suspected would happen automatically after his next breakthrough. Unblocking other meridians, on the other hand, relied more on the potency of his mana and his application of it.
In his initial experiment with Lawrence, he quickly realized that Lawrence's mana was fighting against the treatment. Moreover, Lawrence's meridians weren't very resistant to foreign mana. This was especially the case for poison mana, which could easily damage meridians if not adequately controlled.
Sirius's research notes also address this topic, thought Sorin. The fatality rate for unlocking extraordinary meridians is much higher than for unlocking primary meridians. There are strengthening potions and advanced poison mana application methods to fix this. Still, I've never read anything about these in my medical textbooks. Either these methods have been lost, or they are also secret arts labeled as restricted by the family head.
To proceed with his plan for unlocking his companions' extraordinary meridians, he would need to either find a way to reinforce their meridians or apply his mana differently. He had some ideas on how to accomplish this, but it would require a lot of experimentation. He wrote down several ideas and potential solutions. None of them addressed the root of the problem.
Knowing that research was a marathon and not a race, he went upstairs for a cup of tea. Percival happily poured him a cup. Sorin added sugar and was about to take a sip when suddenly, the doorbell rang.
"Shall I tell whoever it is to return later?" asked Percival.
Unfortunately, Sorin's spiritual senses were strong enough that he could tell that the person at the door was someone he couldn't reject. "Please take our guests to the sitting room so that I can properly receive them," said Sorin. He was still tired from adventuring, but a weakling like him was in no position to reject a bone-forging cultivator visiting in person.
"Oh – hello there, Mister Kepler," said Percival in a voice that quickly traveled to the coffee room. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I'm just here to see my dear cousin, Sorin," came a familiar voice from the entrance. It was none other than Marcus Sovinger Kepler. "There's no need to pretend he's not there. I can sense him from where I stand."
"Mister Sorin has already instructed that you be brought into the sitting room," said Percival. "Would you like a cup of tea? Or coffee, perhaps?"
"I'll take black Inglewood tea if you would be so kind," said Marcus. "Sugar, but no milk. I can't stand the stuff."
It wasn't long before he saw Percival preparing tea. They exchanged a few silent gestures to confirm that Marcus was welcome. Sorin sighed as he finished his cup of tea. Marcus could wait five minutes.
After appropriately stretching the bounds of propriety, Sorin entered the sitting room where Marcus was seated on a plush leather couch, porcelain teacup in hand. He quietly took a seat and waited for Marcus to speak first.
"I sense a lot of hostility in your posture," Marcus finally said with a smile. "Perhaps there's been some sort of misunderstanding between us."
Sorin crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. "I don't personally see any misunderstandings, as your actions have all been blatantly obvious. You came here at the direction of the Kepler Clan and used your authority to suppress me. You then proceeded to make my life extremely difficult and even bullied the people I employed.
Marcus frowned. "I admit to slightly suppressing you, Sorin, but this is all in due course. The family's position is that you cannot be a physician. And neither can you be an alchemist. Either profession – or preferably both – is enough to vie for the position of family head in the future."
"I'm not an idiot," said Sorin. "As a cripple, I was no threat. As a cultivator, I'm a moderate threat but not a significant threat since I cultivate poison. The Medical Association will disqualify me from taking any examinations upfront. They and the clan can also veto my application to the Alchemists Guild.
"I'm glad there's no need to spell it out for you," said Marcus, taking a sip of his tea. "But apart from these major things, I can't see myself having done anything else to interfere with you."
"Really now," said Sorin. "Am I just supposed to forget that assassination attempt and the meddling of the Governor's Manor and the Alchemists Association in the case?"
"This…" Marcus winced. "I suppose that requires some explaining."
"Indeed, it does," said Sorin. "Because the way I see it, you're a thorn in my side that needs to be plucked as soon as possible."
Marcus chuckled. "That could almost be construed as a threat, Sorin. If it were another bone-forging cultivator that you said these words to, no one would blame them for crippling you a second time."
"But you're not another bone-forging cultivator," said Sorin. "You must abide by the arrangements of the family. And given our disagreements, I see no reason to be polite."
"Given our misunderstandings, you mean," said Marcus. "Because this is indeed a misunderstanding. In case you've forgotten, I'm from the Sovinger branch of the family."
