The Weak Prince Is A Cultivation God-Chapter 61: Alchemist’s Spark

The sound of pickaxes echoed deep within the Ranevian mine—metal clanging against stone in rhythmic violence.

Sparks flared as men chipped away at the newly revealed layers of rock, illuminated by lanterns hung on iron nails driven into the walls. The air was thick with dust and sweat, yet also with purpose.

Lan stood at the mouth of the decline, arms folded as he watched dozens of workers descend into the freshly blasted tunnel. The slope curved like a scar into the belly of the earth, leading toward a luminous chamber still veiled in drifting ash from yesterday’s explosive talismans.

Already, the first carts were being pulled back up the incline—heavy with uncut ore and jagged shards of translucent violet.

Gold and ghost crystals.

"To think this mine can yield this much," Bragg said beside him, voice low. "Although it feels like we’re digging into something old and waiting."

Lan didn’t reply. His eyes were on the shimmering veins pulsing faintly from the tunnel’s walls, almost like they breathed.

Crystalline webs stretched between them, fine as glass, but stronger than steel. They weren’t merely minerals. It were more structures—living, resonant, humming with silent power.

Behind him, a shout rang out. "Another cart!"

A team of Vipers emerged dragging a second load. This one gleamed more brightly than the first—thicker chunks of gold veined with faint red, and a basket filled to the brim with what could only be described as crystallized flame.

Violet and red ghost crystals, flickering softly in the dim light.

"Bring those to Seraphine," Lan said, stepping aside. "Have her begin testing immediately."

The men nodded and hurried toward the exit. Bragg lingered a moment longer before following.

---

Back at the estate, the Alchemy room glowed like a forge.

Seraphine’s hands worked quickly, separating shards of ghost crystal with tweezers into three groups—white, violet, and red.

Each shimmered differently under alchemical fire. One thud like a heartbeat. Another crackled like ice breaking on a frozen lake. The third... simply glowed, steady and warm, as if alive.

She poured powdered extracts into bowls, mixed reagents, and dropped them one by one into heated crucibles. The ghostfire reacted instantly—sparking, fizzling, twisting the flames into odd, almost sentient shapes.

Lan watched from the doorway, silent as always.

"You weren’t joking," Seraphine murmured. "These crystals do more than hold mana. They distort it. Some of them... devour it entirely."

"And the red ones?" Lan asked.

She gestured to a separate cauldron, where a thick violet-red liquid bubbled, steaming faintly.

"They do more. They change it."

Seraphine stepped back and held up a vial of the liquid. It beat gently in her hand.

"This," she said, "is the raw form of what I’m calling Qi Transition Essence. With enough refinement and spiritual catalysts, I can stabilize it into a pill. A pill that won’t destroy mana but convert it."

Lan’s eyes narrowed. "You’re certain?"

"I’m close," she said. "I’ve already tested it on raw mana cores extracted from fallen beasts. The mana collapses and leaves behind something... primal. A spark that aligns with spiritual veins. It’s not perfect, but it’s a foundation. A start."

She set the vial down gently, then walked to a worktable covered in notes.

"You remember the Qi Awakening Pill I proposed?" she asked.

Lan nodded.

"This is different. Stronger. More violent. And for those who have already come far as mages, this might be the only way."

She turned, golden hair tied back and her face flushed from the alchemical heat. "If I succeed, this pill—this Ghostfire Spark—will let mages become cultivators. It’ll be painful. Risky. But possible."

Lan stepped closer, eyes locked on the shimmering vial.

He said nothing for a moment. He stared at the liquid, saw the way it flowed with potential. With memory. With power waiting to be claimed.

"Begin production," he said. "Start with the ones we trust. I want ten ready before I leave for the Imperial City."

"You’re still going, then?" Seraphine asked.

He nodded. "I have to. The princess has been of aid, and it’s my turn to honor our partnership."

She didn’t respond at first. Then: "And we?"

Lan met her eyes. "You’ll be the fire while I’m gone. Keep refining. Keep the mines running. We have the material now. Soon, we’ll have the army."

---

Back in the mine, Venom oversaw the digging with surprising precision. The man who once commanded bandits now barked orders with military efficiency.

Trenches were dug carefully, tunnels reinforced, and ghost crystal veins marked with bright chalk to avoid accidental overexposure. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Lan rejoined them by midday.

"They’re separating the crystal types now," Venom reported. "We’ve already catalogued six different variants. Some make the torches go out just by being near them."

"Good," Lan said. "Keep them categorized. We’ll name them later."

As they walked deeper into the slope, the air thickened, not dust but tension. Even those not attuned to Qi could feel it.

They reached a cavern recently cleared by talismans. The blast had opened an entirely new shaft below, and lanterns barely lit its bottom.

Bragg was already there, running his fingers over the stone. "This place... it’s almost like it was carved before. Not just blasted open."

"Old mana formations," Lan muttered.

Venom looked up sharply. "You think we’re not the first ones here?"

"I think the mine was never truly a mine," Lan replied. "More like a cage. A boundary."

Bragg straightened. "For what?"

"I don’t know. But we’ll find out eventually."

They stood in silence for a few moments.

Lan then turned toward the team. "Start reinforcing this section. And send runners to fetch the next batch of explosive talismans. We go deeper tomorrow."

---

That evening, as the workday drew to a close and the mine fires dimmed, carts returned once again to the estate—this time filled with the largest haul yet.

Fifty crates of raw gold. Crates of ghost crystal. And a small, obsidian-black shard that none of them could identify, pulsing faintly in the dark.

Seraphine took it all.

Lan returned to the study, where maps, scrolls, and economic figures now filled his desk. He scribbled numbers in charcoal, recalculated mining yields, and began drafting trade proposals—coded and masked through third-party intermediaries.

They couldn’t sell openly. Not yet. But soon, gold would flow from Ranevia again—and this time, not into the kingdom’s pockets, but into Lan’s war chest.

And deeper still... the Ghostfire pills would spread. First among the Vipers. Then the Fangs. Then the willing. Then the desperate.

Mages would become cultivators.

Loyal to him.