089 Warming Tonic

The Huck family could be counted among the century-old houses of Cervantes City. Their ancestral residence stood in the eastern part of the city, occupying an impressively vast estate. Though it was old, the mansion’s design was simple, dignified, and grand. After a hundred years, it had not become stale or outmoded; instead, it possessed the distinctive weight that only time’s accumulation could bestow.

It was afternoon, and winter afternoons were lazy beyond compare. There were not many servants bustling about the house, so when Saar led Joans down the corridors in a seething rush, they did not encounter a single attendant. This only made Saar’s already suppressed anger show even more starkly in the hardening of his face.

They strode swiftly all the way to the door of the main study. Saar thrust both hands forward with force, and the heavy wooden doors flew open to either side. The strength of the push sent the two solid doors crashing against the walls with a tremendous bang, the dull echo rolling through the corridor.

“You fool!”

The moment the door to the main study shut, Saar could no longer restrain his rage. He lifted a leg and kicked Joans, who had been following behind him, straight to the floor. Then, furious and agitated, he paced back and forth several times over the study’s thick, soft, long-piled carpet.

Joans was dazed from the kick. He had no idea why his father was unleashing such fury on him. Only when Saar halted and glared at him with a chilly, sinister gaze did he lower his head obediently and remain kneeling, waiting for punishment.

Saar stared at his precious only son, feeling his chest burn with anger. The instant he opened his mouth, it was to curse him.

“I told you long ago to be cautious, to be careful, to think before you act. But you—reckless in everything you do, and when something goes wrong, you actually dare conceal it from me! If you hadn’t done that idiotic thing, I could absolutely have dragged him down from that position this time!”

Joans stood stunned for two seconds before suddenly understanding what Saar was referring to. He hurriedly explained, “Father, forgive me. What happened at Stormfort was indeed due to my carelessness, and I was tricked. But afterward, I already had the contact eliminated. No one will ever trace it back to me.”

“You self-righteous idiot! If you weren’t my son, I’d have kicked you to death today!”

Far from calming down, Saar grew even angrier. Snatching up a decorative object from the desk, he hurled it viciously at him. Joans shrank aside in fright, barely letting the black object graze past his cheek. As a crisp shattering sound rang out behind him, he felt a burning sting flare where the rush of air had scraped across his face.

After throwing that, Saar’s anger finally ebbed a little. He glared at Joans, who at last showed some genuine fear, and after a long while said, “Consider yourself lucky this time. Though you did something unbelievably stupid and let others seize a few traces against you, in the end it didn’t ruin my greater plans. In fact, by a crooked stroke of chance, you even made that Theresa miss the mission. Otherwise, if she had taken command in the middle and completed the Demon-Sealing Array, then Amos Aubrion would have another merit added to his name...”

As he spoke, Saar paced across the study twice, brows faintly knit as though weighing something. Only after quite some time did he stop, look at Joans, and continue, “Very well. That rash, sloppy temperament of yours ought to be polished properly. A few days ago, your uncle mentioned that the Little Highness is looking for several young companions. Pack your things. In two days, you will leave for the Imperial Capital. And remember this well—if you ever commit such stupidity again, I will consider that I have no son.”

Joans left the study in a daze. Standing in the corridor, it took him a long while to recover his senses. Then he gritted his teeth and mouthed, without sound, the names of those people he had hated countless times already...

☆☆☆

“Achoo!”

Theresa suddenly let out a massive sneeze. The disturbance caused an almost imperceptible tremor in her previously steady right hand. The docile flow of magic power stalled for a split second, and in that instant the wild magical elements burst free of control. Pale pink liquid sprayed everywhere like a fountain, splashing all over Theresa.

Fortunately, the amount of magic she had been guiding at that moment was not great, so even though there had been a mistake, it did not produce backlash.

Nearly drenched like a soaked stray, Theresa raised a hand and wiped her face. Pouting as she exhaled, she looked more depressed than defeated, because at that very moment a book spirit in her mind was hopping mad and roaring at her, condemning her lack of focus, lack of care, and lack of seriousness. It even listed example after example to ensure she thoroughly understood the severity of distraction during experimentation. Since their communication took place on the mental plane, what the book spirit transmitted to her were all kinds of vivid visual scenes; the educational effect was truly extraordinary.

Still, what made Theresa surrender most completely was its talent for nagging. At times she truly wondered whether the book spirit subconsciously meant to make up for all the words it had not spoken over the previous two hundred years, which was why it loved lecturing so very much...

After wiping her face and hair and changing clothes, Theresa returned to the alchemy bench once more. Taking a deep breath, she resumed her work. Her hands flew, steady and agile; her eyes were focused, sharp and intent. Since she had already failed several times before, she had long since grasped the critical points. Thus, this attempt proceeded with rare smoothness. Everything seemed to come naturally, as though she were merely following the current.

When the deep crimson liquid and the emerald green liquid pressed against one another and finally settled into the form of a shared upward spiral, Theresa at last let out a long breath of relief. Wiping the thin sheen of sweat from her brow, she took up a small bottle and slowly guided the column of two-colored liquid into crystal vials one by one. Before long, she had six bottles of potion.

This was a dual recovery potion for physical stamina and mental power. It could restore a small amount of stamina and a trace amount of mental power at the same time. Using a water-element rune as an intermediary, it cleverly fused two potions of entirely different effects. This was the new requirement the book spirit had set for Theresa after the foundational water-element runes. For the sake of this single formula, Theresa had spent nearly two gold coins’ worth of all kinds of medicinal materials. The cost was truly enormous.

Having obtained a new potion, Theresa naturally could not suppress the urge to test it. Her eyes shifted, and she immediately thought of Achir, who ought to be practicing at the training grounds right now. Grinning mischievously, she hastily tidied the alchemy bench and then skipped off lightly toward her destination.

“Achir, you’ve worked hard. Have some water~”

After watching for nearly half an hour, Theresa finally waited until Achir paused to rest, and immediately she eagerly offered him a drink. Her green eyes smiled in a crescent as they fixed on him, every inch of her radiating the scent of I have a scheme.

Achir took the cup but did not drink. Instead, he stared at Theresa’s face for quite a while before asking slowly, “Something good?”

“Mhm, a recovery potion,” Theresa admitted readily, since it truly was a good thing with no side effects. “A little stamina and a tiny bit of mental power. Try it and see how effective it is.”

This was not the first time Achir had tested a potion for Theresa, so seeing her attitude, he naturally felt at ease. Tilting his head back, he drained it in one swallow. The warm liquid entered his stomach, and warmth spread from his throat straight down into his belly, then slowly fanned outward to either side. Before long, every part of him, from head to fingertips, seemed wrapped in that warmth. After perhaps three to five seconds, the warmth quietly faded, and only then did Achir feel a slight easing in his originally exhausted arms. He clenched and unclenched his fists several times before saying, “The stamina recovery is quite good. It works fast and gently. Though the amount recovered is small, it’s very suitable as a restorative during ordinary training. As for the mental power... I don’t feel much of anything.”

At his words, Theresa immediately understood. Achir’s rank was not high enough; he had not yet reached the stage where a warrior needed to cultivate mental power, which was why he felt nothing regarding its recovery. After thinking it over, she decided to find a few more people to test the effects...

...

Every Adventurers’ Guild was a grand hodgepodge of functions. Posting and accepting missions went without saying, and buying requests and item sales were also services Theresa often used. As for item appraisal, this was the first time she had used that function since becoming an adventurer.

Compared with the other service counters, the appraisal desk was rather deserted. This was not only because its fees were expensive, but also because its attendants were all old men without exception. Compared to the beauties staffing the other counters, they were naturally far less appealing.

After waiting for three turns, Theresa finally stepped up to the appraisal desk. Setting the crystal vial containing the potion onto the counter, she said nothing further. She was actually quite helpless in coming here for an appraisal. Carol had gone out half a month ago and still had not returned, while the youngsters at the old estate all knew nothing at all about potions. No matter how reluctant she was, she could only spend money at the guild for an appraisal.

The old man behind the desk looked to be over sixty. He had a little goat beard, a thin, long face, and an air of keen shrewdness all over him. Without speaking, he extended both hands and began forming magical finger signs while muttering an incantation under his breath. A dozen seconds later, a golden light poured from between his hands and enveloped the crystal vial. The golden glow flowed around the bottle like water for roughly half a minute before the old man withdrew his hands, stroked his beard, and said, “One gold coin.”

With a heart aching from the expense, Theresa handed over the appraisal fee. Only then did the old man say, “A dual recovery potion for stamina and mental power. Mild in nature. It can gently nourish the meridians and the spirit consciousness. Long-term use is beneficial to the improvement of cultivation. Recommended sale price: ten silver coins.”

Long-term use is beneficial to the improvement of cultivation!

This appraisal result shocked Theresa beyond measure. Up to now, most of the potions on the market that aided cultivation were ones that boosted it in the short term, and every one of them was exceedingly expensive. Since the appraiser had set the price of Theresa’s recovery potion at ten silver coins, it meant it could only be considered an ordinary potion—at most, an ordinary potion on the pricey side. From this, it was clear that “long-term use” must also mean a rather lengthy stretch of time...

Still, no matter what, since it was beneficial to cultivation, Theresa was more than willing to drink one bottle every day. Though this batch of potions had cost her nearly two gold coins in materials, if one truly calculated it, each bottle had only cost around three silver coins to produce. In fact, once her proficiency with the potion improved, the cost would drop even lower.