Combat training wouldn’t start until the next day. After leaving the conference room, Luo Wei headed to the alchemy materials storage room.
To make sunglasses she needed glass lenses plus a coloring agent: mix the dye components into powdered glass raw stock, melt at high temperature, grind and polish, then finish with a reflective coating.
Glassworking on the Western Continent was already mature—the Academy’s Gothic cathedral was packed with stained windows. So producing small lenses and a tinting batch wouldn’t be hard; the storage room even held the raw materials.
She found natural manganese clay—manganese dioxide—along with quartz powder, borax, and various metal salts. Enough for a coloring agent. A pity the experimental apparatus was outdated; otherwise she could have added a polarizing film.
No polarizing lens? Fine. She still remembered wet zinc plating: give the lens a semi‑silver reflective layer to cut glare.
But a single pair of sunglasses didn’t make her feel safe. Luo Wei worried that light magic might scorch her skin like Holy Water, raising black smoke.
What kind of light did light mages emit against dark beings? Longwave or shortwave? Monochromatic or multicolor?
If it triggered intense reactions maybe it was invisible radiation—infrared, ultraviolet, microwaves… or ionizing bands.
Light magic healed, too. Did it include red and blue light—and even X‑rays and gamma rays?
Red and blue light could stimulate cell growth and collagen, sterilize, reduce inflammation, fade scars. X‑rays and gamma rays could treat tumors—killing cancerous cells.
If it were the former, fine. If it were the latter… a little terrifying.
After all, gamma rays and the like had frightening penetration. They could heal—or kill—sending someone to the heavens in minutes.
If light magic really produced gamma rays, light mages’ combat strength needed a fresh evaluation. Light elements would hardly be the “gentle” element Professor Moses described.
Luo Wei seriously considered making full‑body protective suits to block radiation.
If the enemy really could emit X‑rays and gamma rays, radiation shielding was essential!
She had already reached the door with her bundle when she pivoted back and swept the shelves for lead powder.
Three jars. Not even enough for one lead garment. Luo Wei immediately pulled a small sheepskin notebook and listed what the Academy had to procure.
Lead ore, rubber—or tungsten ore. Large quantities. For five people—no, fifteen—she needed at least eighty kilograms of lead powder.
Refine pure lead first, then produce leaded rubber sheeting. She could not finish that scale alone.
Notebook tucked under her arm, Luo Wei left the storage room to find Professor Temple and draft labor.
Tournament tasks handled, she still had to head out that evening.
By now Troy should be back—the small merchant and threatening letter matter still needed his follow‑up.
…
All through April, Luo Wei prepared for the Magic Tournament.
Every afternoon she trained with her teammates under Professor Moses: magic drills, killing magic beasts, simulated combat.
Every evening she worked with several Intermediate Division alchemy apprentices, fabricating sunglasses and lead garments.
Time flew. The last day of April arrived—brilliant sunshine. That afternoon Winnie’s parents and younger brother reached Siria.
Busy training, Luo Wei sent Bella and Yves to accompany Winnie outside the city to meet them.
Training ended at five. Fortunately she had finished the sunglasses and lead garments days earlier, freeing her to return to Star Luo Residence to host them that night.
Winnie’s father, Bartley Charlie, was a farmer in his thirties who looked older. He hunched, wearing a ingratiating smile; dirt‑packed broad nails picked at the long burlap sack slung over his shoulder. No matter how Winnie urged, he refused to set it down.
Winnie’s mother was similar: rough hands kneading her coarse linen overdress, shoulders caved inward, arms clamped tight, clearly afraid to meet anyone’s eyes. Whatever Winnie said earned only a timid nod.
Only Winnie’s nine‑year‑old brother, Darm, showed liveliness—brown eyes darting, curiosity flashing over his face.
Seeing Luo Wei, Winnie’s parents scrambled up, bowing deeply.
“R‑respected Miss, h‑hello!”
Winnie’s father wanted something flowery; after stammering “you… you…” he finally squeezed out a dry “hello.”
Darm hid behind his mother, peeking—brown eyes fixed on Luo Wei for a long time.
“Mr. Charlie, Mrs. Charlie—hello.” Luo Wei signaled Bella to help them rise. “Winnie is my good friend. You’re her family. Please, no excessive formality.”
Startled, they straightened, but their backs still bent in an anxious curve. “O‑okay, respected Miss,” they murmured.
“Just call me Luo Wei,” she said gently.
They could not accept that. A noble lady! Pearls and diamonds on her skirt, gold thread shimmering in the weave, soft, fine fabric and vivid color. Dressed like this, her status might outrank even the knight lord of their town.
The sparkling hem almost dazzled them. Bewilderment and panic rose. A noble lady claimed to be Winnie’s friend. Why would a noble befriend Winnie?
Winnie—and they—were lowly commoners. Didn’t the noble lady know?
They could not make sense of it and grew more afraid.
Soon the kitchen finished dinner; Luo Wei invited them to the dining room.
Silver forks lay on the table—utterly foreign to the Charlies. They sat stiff, not daring to reach.
Winnie whispered instructions. Darm, enthralled by the steak’s aroma, ignored everything, grabbed with his hands, and shoveled meat into his mouth.
Winnie flushed, sneaking a glance at Luo Wei.
“My oversight,” Luo Wei said warmly. “I didn’t consider Mr. and Mrs. Charlie might not be used to utensils. Please eat as you normally do—no need to feel constrained.”
They thanked her repeatedly, quickly abandoning the awkward fork and eating with their hands. Soon came loud smacking, finger‑sucking—and Darm overeating until he retched.
Winnie looked at her parents and brother, cheeks burning.
“Miss Luo Wei…” she began, gripping her fork, not knowing how to continue.
Her family was so rough—Miss Luo Wei must regret letting them stay, right?
“What is it, Winnie?” Luo Wei asked, feigning ignorance. “Is the food not to your taste?”
“N‑no—it’s delicious!” Winnie speared a large piece of steak and hurried it into her mouth, chewing fast.
…
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