Ron stared at the mirror-like surface of the star, his Spiritual Power cautiously probing its edges like a needle.
Suddenly, the surface began to ripple, like a lake disturbed by a pebble.
But this ripple was not regular; it resembled more the unstable operation of some ancient machinery.
A chaotic and fragmented wave of consciousness transmitted over; it was not a complete thought, but countless memory fragments accumulated over the ages:
Seeking... price... truth... blood and bone...
Eternal longing... the curse of knowledge...
Observation... record... witness...
These fragments of consciousness surged at Ron’s spirit like a tide, each piece carrying different emotions and memories.
Some came from ancient observers, some from seekers devoured, and others from souls lost in the pursuit of truth.
This so-called "Scholar Star" was actually a massive memory repository, collecting fragments of every consciousness that had contacted it over the millennia.
And now, it was selectively pouring key parts of these fragments into Ron according to his own memory repository.
The first clear image appeared.
Ron found himself in a pristine laboratory.
The walls around were made of pure white stones, and the air was filled with a faint herbal aroma.
It looked more like a medical facility, rather than a terrifying laboratory.
In the center of the room, a tall middle-aged man was carefully examining his right arm.
He was Alexander King, the legendary figure known as the "Merciful Alchemist."
"Today is the seventy-third attempt." Alexander said calmly to a mirror, his voice devoid of pain, holding only the focus unique to scholars:
"The neural conduction efficiency in the right arm has improved by twelve percent, but the muscle fiber activity has decreased. The Potion ratio needs to be adjusted."
Ron saw Alexander’s right arm’s skin showing an unnatural translucent state, with pale blue liquid flowing through the veins.
Each time he moved his fingers, the internal Energy Circuits flashed visibly.
"Pain is the price of progress." Alexander took out a syringe filled with green liquid and unhesitatingly pierced it into his carotid artery:
"As long as the feasibility of this path can be proven, what does personal suffering count for?"
After the injection, Alexander’s whole head began to transform.
The skin gradually became transparent, revealing the brain clearly within the skull.
More frighteningly, certain areas of the brain were replaced by micro Alchemy Devices, with those metal tendrils embedding deeply into the brain tissue like parasites.
Seeing this scene, Ron felt a surge of instinctual nausea and fear.
It was the instinctual reaction humans have towards the distortion of their own form, a protective mechanism etched deep within the genes.
But he forced himself to continue observing, striving to analyze the principles of this modification from an academic perspective:
"The mechanization of the nervous system... Such a level of precision operation should be unprecedented breakthrough at the time. Though the price was terrible, the technical level is indeed astounding."
The scene shifted, time flew by, arriving at the same laboratory decades later.
At this point, Alexander was completely unrecognizable in human form.
His entire body had become translucent, with organs replaced by various complex Alchemy devices.
Most frighteningly, he still maintained fully conscious awareness.
"Succeeded... truly succeeded..." His voice had become a bizarre tone of mechanical and biological mix:
"I am now a living Alchemy Factory... capable of directly synthesizing any mastered Potions... along with various Enchantments and Alchemy creations. This is the ultimate form of Alchemy..."
Ron noticed that though Alexander was cheering for his "success," his eyes were completely devoid of the emotional light that humans should have.
That hollow gaze seemed like some highly sophisticated machine simulating human responses.
"Merely seen as a result, it’s indeed a success, but from Alexander’s individual perspective, it’s a complete failure." Ron evaluated in his heart:
"However, this self-modification technological route is indeed worth researching. If the degree of modification can be controlled to avoid total loss of humanity..."
The memory fragments shifted again, and this time the scene brought an even greater impact to Ron’s psychological defense.
He arrived in Lance Heivet’s private laboratory.
Unlike the dark and terrifying depiction in historical books, the environment here seemed orderly.
Exquisite art paintings hung on the walls, fresh flowers sat on the desks, and even soft music played gently in the background.
However, this warm environment only made what happened next seem more gruesome.
Lance was talking with a boy about ten years old.
The child had wet curly hair, with scales and fins on his body, seemingly a hybrid Sea Siren.
His blue eyes were filled with trust towards this "uncle."
"Tell uncle, what is your dream?" Lance crouched, his voice full of sincere care.
"I want to become a sorcerer like my father, to protect our city and drive away those Abyss monsters."
The boy answered innocently, his eyes sparkling with pure light.
"What a wonderful dream." Lance gently stroked the child’s hair:
"You will contribute to realizing this dream for more children like you, your slumber will save countless lives, becoming a true hero."