Chapter 95: Alchemical Potion (Please Recommend and Bookmark)

After a series of disgraceful under-the-table dealings, Hussein and the Count signed the contract. Under the witness of the Goddess of Magic, the contract was reduced to ash in blue flame.

Hussein let out a soft breath. Just as he was privately savoring his victory, he suddenly glanced over and saw the Count wearing a broad, pleased grin, and for an instant Hussein had the absurd feeling that he was the one who had been cheated…

Had he been swindled?

His old friend’s character could still be trusted. At worst, he would suffer a little loss; besides, every time he managed to squeeze a tiny advantage out of him, he would be delighted beyond measure.

But then again…

You may make a fortune, but I will never be the one losing!

…

After several days of hands-on practice, Reimann and the others were finally able to produce a rough finished product.

The five stood in a row with varied expressions, like examinees waiting for a teacher to announce the results after an exam.

“No need to be nervous. Relax a little!”

Boen tried to ease the tension, but it did not seem to help much.

Reimann was still all right. As a top student of Gills Academy, his ability to withstand pressure was fairly strong. On top of that, after running a merchant guild for these past few years, he had seen his share of the wider world. Though he felt a little pained at the wasted materials, he knew that what he gained far outweighed what he lost.

As for Black and Lilith, they had no real concept of the value of these materials at all. In their minds, having once earned a single copper coin had already been something to celebrate. Silver coins, as far as they were concerned, were probably things adults used.

Gold coins, on the other hand, seemed like something only absurdly rich nobles would ever use. Ever since they met Reimann, they seemed never to have worried about food again. After that, Boen and Sesli would also prepare meals for them, so they had never even touched money at all, let alone seen what a gold coin looked like.

Although Hobwick had told them repeatedly how wonderful these things were, how precious they were, the two of them were still utterly bewildered.

Fortunately, they could at least grasp what Hobwick was trying to say. Still, in Black and Lilith’s way of understanding value, did “precious” mean a table full of roast meat, or a whole house full of roast meat?

The one suffering most was the ranger Hobwick. As a local power who had made his living in the black market, he was intimately familiar with these materials. The moment he got his hands on them, he could tell at once whether they were good or bad.

Before, he had only ever dealt in buying and reselling goods. Who could have imagined that one day he would be using these materials for experiments just like those lofty mage lords? This fellow had never thought of himself as a spellcaster; he felt more like a rogue than a druid, though he did possess fairly impressive artisan skills.

And the materials Boen put out were certainly not inferior stock. Every single piece was top-grade, premium quality.

Alchemy. Alchemy!

Damn it all, this really was alchemy!

A casual handful of this stuff was worth a fortune in gold coins. And once it was thrown in, the slightest mistake could ruin materials worth hundreds of gold pieces.

Such sin…

Only then did he finally understand what Boen had meant by “burning money.”

Even as his heart ached, he also felt fortunate to be favored by the Lady of Luck.

How rare this chance was. If he still had not retained the last shred of faith in the Earth Mother, Genas, he would have already thrown himself into the embrace of the Lady of Luck!

He did not know how skilled Boen’s alchemy was, but Count Iolem was the real deal.

A high archmage was one thing, but what truly mattered was his hand at alchemy. The magical items made by the Count were so sought after that even the elves fought over them.

Boen must have inherited the Count’s talent and legacy. To be teaching them hands-on, giving them the real goods, and even supplying the materials directly—if word of such an opportunity leaked out, even the great nobles would be unable to sit still.

These days of study had left the ranger somewhat drained. He was not as composed as the other three. Every time a pile of materials was ruined in his hands, he felt like slapping himself.

Though he was the oldest, he was also the most serious. He scrutinized every detail, checked and rechecked every step against the data, and had filled an entire thick notebook with notes.

Boen picked up the potion in front of Reimann and gently closed his hand around it. A faint glow rose from his palm.

This was a special use of vital energy. Vital energy was a force that arose from within and extended outward, present in every thing by its very nature. By contacting one flow of vital energy with another, Boen could read far more information.

The information he received was “translated” by the biochip into a language he could understand and projected onto his retina. Detailed data appeared before his eyes, just like the description of an item in a game.

Boen nodded slightly, then checked the finished products of the remaining three.

They were mostly as he had expected. Reimann’s was of the highest quality, Lilith’s had reached a good standard, and Black’s was barely acceptable.

All of that was within Boen’s expectations, but Hobwick’s result was a little abnormal—not too poor, but actually quite excellent.

Hobwick was only a little behind Reimann, yet his was still a premium-quality product. Aside from being older and having a weaker foundation, he was in no way inferior to Reimann in other respects. In fact, with more than a decade of worldly experience, he had already formed his own method of learning. Boen had also seen how hard the ranger had been working during this period, so such a result was only natural.

What felt strange to Boen was a line of evaluation returned by the chip.

“The potion is extremely stable and may be used in certain special, extreme weather conditions.”

The others had a shelf life of only about three months, but this fellow’s potion could remain unchanged for an entire year!

Even with Boen’s own coordination and formulation through the chip, he could manage at most about half a year. Yet Hobwick was actually better than him—by nearly a full margin.

What the…

Boen looked at the man with a strange expression. Had he just stumbled upon a treasure? Some hidden attribute? A talent, or a specialty?

He could not help thinking of his own remarkably strong spatial talent and Lilith’s ability to sense good and evil.

If Lilith’s gift came from bloodline and his own from the circumstances of his crossing over, then what was going on with the ranger?

Did he have a hidden lineage too?

Was this an individual phenomenon, or did everyone possess some kind of special “aptitude”?

If that were the case, then was Reimann’s unnatural gift for commerce also one of them?

And what, then, would Black possess?

“Damn it, I drifted off again!”

Boen casually returned the last vial to the table without leaving a trace.

Magic was the union of mental force and elemental power. Boen’s magic power had already stopped growing, but his mental strength was still increasing.

The growth of mental strength was certainly a good thing, though some side effects were caused by growth that was too rapid—namely a tendency toward diffuse thinking and an overabundance of energy.

The mystery of talent was not something that could be solved for the moment. Boen knew that as his strength continued to increase, he would gradually learn the answer.

He said, “Reimann did well. Your potion is the best of the lot.”

At his words, Reimann’s face lit up with delight.

Boen then turned and said, “Black and Lilith did well too. To achieve this on your first attempt is already impressive.”

“Yes!” “Yes!” the two little ones cried, hopping with joy.

“As for Hobwick…”

Boen looked solemnly at the ranger, and the latter’s face went white in an instant.

“Would you like to become an alchemist?”

Boen deliberately paused for a moment.

Uh…

“Huh? I passed?”

The ranger said in delighted disbelief. “An alchemist? What’s that?”

Boen could not help finding it amusing. With such poor nerves, could this fellow really become an alchemist? He was terrified by only a few hundred worth of materials. How hopeless.

“Reimann, this is for you!”

Ignoring Hobwick, who had sunk into a state of exhilaration, Boen produced a book out of thin air and handed it to Reimann.

“This is… for me?”

Sensing the faint magical aura on it, Reimann immediately realized it was a book of magic.

“Mm, take it.”

Reimann took it with a hint of eagerness, his slightly trembling fingers gently opening the first page.

At the top was a table of contents.

Magic Applications. Introduction to Arcane Studies. Principles of Spellcasting. Introduction to the Source of Spells.

“This… could it be?”

Reimann cried out in shock, his eyes full of disbelief, then quickly flipped through the pages, his breathing growing ever more rapid.

After a long while, Reimann tremblingly closed the two books again and hugged them to his chest, like a man drowning who has seized his last straw of salvation. Tears streamed down his face.

“T-thank you… thank you, Boss…”

Black and Lilith had no idea what was happening and were stunned by the scene before them. Hobwick stroked his chin, his expression thoughtful…

It turned out he had made it onto the top-tier recommendation list. What a surprise. The editor had told him to write at least four thousand words a day; he could not promise it, but he would do his best.

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