In the dimly lit, cluttered Magician's room, Berolay sat alone on a dusty yet refined and soft sofa. His hands were crossed over his knees, his body leaned back, and his eyes were closed.
The room was silent; Adam's presence had long since departed.
Knock! Knock!
The sound of knocking came through the wooden door.
Berolay made no move. After a brief wait, the figure outside pushed the door open and entered.
Such boldness suggested the visitor's identity was far from ordinary.
"Master, where's this new disciple you've taken on? I didn't see him." came a hearty, half-joking voice as the door swung open. "I heard you personally brought someone here. What kind of genius could make you take such initiative? Our guild hasn't had a new Magic Caster join in ages."
The speaker was a robed Magician wielding an ebony staff, his brow tinged with a hint of neuroticism. He appeared to be in his forties but was only thirty. This was Theo, the president of the E-Rantel Magician's Guild.
"Your standards are too high." Berolay replied, eyes still closed, his tone flat without lifting his head.
Theo noticed Berolay's lack of enthusiasm and sensed an odd tension in the air. His smile faded as he stepped forward and sat on the opposite sofa. "What happened?"
Berolay didn't respond but pointed to a bottle of clear blue liquid in an ordinary transparent potion vial on the table.
Theo, puzzled, picked up the unfamiliar potion. "Is this a new potion you developed?"
Curious, he channeled mana and softly intoned, "Item Appraisal!"
The potion bottle emitted a faint glow.
"A paralysis-effect alchemical potion?" Theo wasn't foolish; he quickly pieced things together. "Is this why he refused you?"
To reject a scroll-making master without a compelling reason? Theo doubted the stoic Berolay would remain so calm otherwise.
The potion's clear, translucent blue liquid looked less like an artificial creation and more like a natural solution.
Knock! Knock!
Another knock interrupted.
"Come in." Berolay said, straightening on the sofa.
Click!
The door opened, revealing Lizzie, wrapped in a light green headscarf, hands clasped behind her back, her face expressionless.
She glanced at the two men in the room. "President Theo." She greeted with a nod, then turned to Berolay, her voice laced with impatience and a touch of biting sarcasm. "What did you call me here for? A mere alchemist like me has little to do with a lofty scroll-making master like you."
"Madame Bareare." Theo said, surprised, his eyes flicking to Berolay.
These two had never gotten along.
"Give her the alchemical potion." Berolay said, his cheek twitching, his expression blank.
Theo's eyes glinted with gossip, but his face remained neutral as he handed over the potion.
Lizzie examined the clear, radiant liquid, her eyes sparkling. She cast Item Appraisal As well.
Soon, her face cycled through surprise, uncertainty, and other emotions.
"Well?" Berolay prompted.
Ignoring him, Lizzie opened the bottle, dripped a few drops onto her hand, and licked them, closing her eyes in thought.
Theo, noting their intense focus, grew puzzled. He had appraised the potion himself; its effect was mediocre at best.
In his view, alchemy was typically supplementary. Crafting a potion independently suggested the youth had considerable alchemical talent. Refusing scroll-making in favor of alchemy made sense, human energy was finite.
Yet, seeing Berolay and Lizzie's reactions, Theo sensed something amiss.
"Where did you get this potion?" Lizzie demanded, looking at Berolay with astonishment. "The effect is average, but the crafting method is wrong!"
"Wrong in the sense that I've never seen this technique before." She clarified. "Using monster materials to create items or potions with special effects is common, but such items always carry traces of the monster, impurities that can't be removed."
Holding up the clear potion, she addressed both men. "But more intriguing is this: it wasn't made with enchantment."
"Exactly." Berolay nodded, a knowing look in his eyes.
He had suspected as much but sought confirmation from Lizzie, an expert in potions and alchemy.
"What does that mean?" Theo asked, confused, unable to follow the exchange between a scroll-making master and an alchemy specialist.
Lizzie glanced at him, seemingly uninterested in explaining.
"Since the era of the Thirteen Heroes, over two hundred years ago." Berolay began, his face etched with complex emotions, "as the dwarven kingdom's runecraft waned, human enchantment techniques became dominant. Whether it's weapon enchanting, scroll-making, or potion creation, all rely on enchantment."
"Where is the person who made this potion?" Lizzie asked, brimming with excitement.
"He left. His name…" Berolay paused, realizing he hadn't asked Adam's name, perhaps assuming no one would refuse a scroll master.
"He's a black-haired youth. With such a technique, you might cross paths. Keep an eye out." Berolay said to Lizzie.
A black-haired youth?
Lizzie froze, Adam's image flashing in her mind.
"I'm taking this potion." She declared, leaving no room for objection, and turned to leave.
Berolay's face showed a hint of resignation.
"Crafting an alchemical solution independently and developing such a technique, no wonder he didn't care for my scroll-making methods." Berolay sighed.
Alchemy demanded precise mana control, likely why Adam could produce Papermaking On par with Berolay's.
"Master." Theo said, now somewhat concerned.
"One thing is certain: he's not from the Slane Theocracy." Berolay said, leaning back on the sofa.
"You're sure?" Theo's eyes grew serious.
"He took a second-tier 'Summon Angel' scroll from me." Berolay said, waving a hand. "If he were from the Theocracy, that would be unnecessary."
---
Elsewhere, Adam was heading back to the inn, eager to test his scroll-making techniques, which might influence his next decision.
"Scroll-making master?" He mused, glancing at the lively young Invisible Hound beside him. "Sounds dangerous, doesn't it, Blackie?"
"What about the title 'Genius Alchemist'? Paired with a low-threat divine type magic caster identity, it seems fitting."
"Woof!"
The Invisible Hound let out a soft bark, unable to understand but responding nonetheless.
***
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