Chapter Sixty-Two: A New Potion and a New Commission

Yesterday afternoon, in the swamp forest, thanks to the boy’s fearless perseverance, the man-eating “Giant Thorn Demon Tree” was finally eradicated, and the logging area, which ordinarily would have ceased work by dusk, was “restored to happiness.”

Then, this morning, the alchemy apprentice arrived at the temple district—Kalkstein’s alchemy workshop—with a fresh batch of newly gathered materials.

… In the dim underground alchemy chamber, strange laughter echoed. “Oh, hehehe, look at these verdant demon tree tendrils,” he murmured, biting off a small piece and tasting it. “And this fresh demon tree sap…” He dipped his finger in it, tasted a drop.

Witnessing Mr. Kalkstein’s impassioned performance of tasting every herb like a legendary herbalist, Victor had no intention of applauding but neither did he step forward to offer pointless advice.

After a while, the alchemist, now composed, said cheerfully, “Vic, I am very pleased with your results. These can make many fascinating potions. I’ll let you pick one of three as a reward.

The first induces drowsiness and erases a short span of memory before sleep. The second grants vigor, temporarily boosting mental strength. The third inspires enthusiasm, with duration depending on physical constitution.”

Hearing the choices, Victor’s heart raced. “I choose the second,” he said, keeping his excitement in check, his tone steady.

“Not the third? Without magic, what good is a temporary boost in mental strength? Are you planning to use it for reading? The third would be excellent for gifting or personal use…” But seeing the determination in his eyes, the alchemist, though thinking Victor wasted his opportunity, did not press further. “Very well, if you’d rather pick such a dull potion, I have no objection.”

He began to mix the potion, as Victor seized the moment to select the books he wanted to borrow this time.

As for Kalkstein’s well-meant offer, Victor understood perfectly. The diplomatic advantages of aphrodisiacs were clear to him. Few men could resist awakening their primal vigor when needed, or making it fiercer still.

He simply didn’t choose that potion because he was confident—an unrivaled talent in this domain. This confidence was forged from countless occasions when people gratefully clasped his hand, tears in their eyes, saying, “Thank you, Master!” “Young sir, you’ve helped me!” “Thanks to you, my family is saved!” And so on, over and over, until his ears nearly grew calluses from hearing it, his hands almost callused from all the handshakes.

…

Time spent in earnest study is always fleeting; two hours slipped by. Victor closed the literature he intended to borrow, a book he hadn’t noticed before, written by the mage Azurel, describing the fundamentals of mutation. He felt today’s gains were significant.

He looked up from the pages, preparing to take his leave, and was startled to find Kalkstein’s slightly atavistic face suddenly very close to his own.

“What a pity you have no magic,” the alchemist said, quite solemn. “Your astonishing focus and reverence for learning—if you had magical talent, you’d be an exceptional mage and alchemist.”

Victor politely stood, putting some distance between them. “Even without magic, I believe I can become a qualified alchemist,” he replied.

“Sadly, many formulas require spellwork for fine adjustments to achieve optimal results,” Kalkstein sighed, shaking his head. “Without magical assistance, there are limits. Pure alchemists can never reach the pinnacle.”

His regret was genuine, and Victor appreciated the kindness. “It’s all right. Just being able to walk this path is enough for me.”

Kalkstein narrowed his eyes, gazing at Victor with meaning. “Again with those pretty words that belie your true feelings. At your ambitious age, being told you can never reach the peak, yet showing no reaction, not caring at all? ‘Just being able to continually improve is enough?’ There’s no point in showing off clever remarks in front of me. We haven’t spent much time together, but it’s enough for me to see through your disguise.

Clearly, you’re convinced you have a way to bypass the limitations of magic and create higher-level potions. I don’t know how you plan to do it, but it’s this ‘unknown’ that makes me look forward to your ‘future.’”

“…Master, must you always expose polite words? You’re making me quite embarrassed.”

Understanding between people is mutual; the alchemist didn’t mind Victor’s cleverness. As they grew familiar, Victor likewise didn’t mind Kalkstein’s teasing, for it was his way of expressing goodwill.

Ignoring his complaint, the alchemist pressed a vial of pale green potion into Victor’s hand. “Take it. The ‘mental enhancement potion’ you wanted—drink it in one go, the effect lasts about two hours.”

“Could I have the recipe?” Victor asked, delighted to receive the potion he’d hoped for.

Dealing with the apprentice’s request, Kalkstein gave a sly smile. “I was just about to tell you—the recipe is an extra reward for the next materials trade.”

Not surprised by this, Victor gently shook the pale green liquid in the vial. “So… does this potion have a special name?”

“No, I’ve never named it. But if I had to—dried green tendrils mixed and refined with oil… let’s call it ‘***’?”

Hearing the name, Victor coughed twice. “No… On reflection, ‘mental enhancement potion’ is quite sufficient.”

…

At noon, following usual custom, the cook of the caravan returned home with a large chunk of chicken, preparing a meal to satisfy the hungry members. Yet after calling out twice as he set the dishes, the house remained cool and silent.

…He’d forgotten the girl had begun her solo activities today; by habit, the boy prepared food for two.

…

In the afternoon, after distributing bread in the suburbs and hearing the captain’s rousing speech, Siegfried, the “Rose Knight,” found no time for rest.

It was still too soon after the White Rose’s transformation into the Flame Rose—many knights still wallowed in past, false glories, lingering with the decay and vices of the old era.

As a mid-ranking officer of the order, he had to hurry back to headquarters to train the newcomers, ensuring their minds and bodies were ready to bear the burden of the Eternal Flame.

But passing through a narrow alley, he happened upon a scene that made him pause.

In a lane barely wide enough for one person—

“I never yield to fools,” declared a knight wearing a lily insignia.

“And I am quite the opposite!” replied the boy, stepping back to give way, smiling as he watched the knight depart arrogantly.

Given the knight’s attire belonged to the royal guard, Siegfried of Danso had no authority over him, nor any obligation to point out that the boy had just called him a fool—especially since the boy was his own friend.

Blocking Victor with a cheerful grin, Siegfried said, “My friend, I never knew you were a linguist.”

“I didn’t know either—until I met a fool,” Victor replied, shrugging in helplessness. “In fact, I was just about to look for you, regarding the commission you mentioned last time…”