LRAB Chapter 272 Magic Potion
Chapter 272 Magic Potion
Chapter 272 Magic Potion
Chris placed a long-necked glass bottle filled with blue liquid in front of the staff that was stuck in the cushion:
"I've brought you the potion you wanted."
The scales on the left hand that was holding the staff suddenly popped open, revealing countless eyes that were staring intently at the small bottle.
Chris asked, "What should we do next?"
"ocean!"
The mouth, perched in the crook of the elbow, spoke in a voice that was neither male nor female.
"Sea! Ocean! All voices should be cast into the seabed, baptized by salt and tide! Go, child, come, embrace the tides, embrace the currents, and you will—"
"...—? Shut up," Chris interrupted it irritably. "I'm not asking you, you ghost from the seabed."
I'm asking about Grellara's apostles!
"I told you, you have to believe me, the ocean is the cradle of life, you can..." "Don't listen, she's going crazy again."
"He's the one who's gone mad; he's bewitching you, making you do evil."
"Gree Lala was a great pioneer of the world. Even though she was misunderstood by the whole world, her belief never wavered. 'Greatness exists in the seabed, a light born from the deepest darkness, a light rising from the end of silence—'"
"Enough!" Chris roared.
Despite having only one ear, Chris felt an unprecedented noise.
If Chris hadn't spent so much time in contact with this strange creature, he would have been even more annoyed by now.
Recently, Chris has learned a lot about supernatural powers.
Especially those related to witchcraft.
If defined, the power of destiny he wields can actually be categorized as witchcraft.
Therefore, although Chris was always lying, he was actually a wizard.
It was because of this knowledge that he was able to understand why only he was able to pull out the staff.
what!
Everything is guided by fate!
Greta used ingenious design to prevent the cane from being easily pulled out.
If Chris is not mistaken, according to Greta's idea, modern people should not have the opportunity to obtain this cane.
But Chris was the chosen one—the one who controlled destiny, of course he was the chosen one—becoming the embodiment of all coincidences.
Chris arrived on this continent aboard a ship belonging to a witch named Celestia.
The witch, once saved by the deep-sea tribe, was also corrupted by the deep sea.
Chris accidentally angered Celestia at her home; in retrospect, this was also one of the guiding principles of fate.
In short, Celestia, in order to get revenge on Chris, tried to infect him with the contamination she had suffered.
Chris was infected; the contamination started at the tip of his left finger and spread gradually.
This is why his left hand contains an ancient power.
Grellara's designs are able to resist the invasion of various forces that have emerged since her time, but they cannot resist the forces from the ancient times.
That's why Chris was able to pull out the staff without losing his life.
However, Chris's left hand was also amplified by Greta's extraordinary abilities, and thus began to grow rapidly.
Ultimately, Chris had no choice but to ask someone to cut off his left hand.
The severed left hand also gained full self-awareness, and Chris was able to communicate with it.
However, there are two consciousnesses residing within this left arm.
A self-proclaimed apostle of Grellella was sealed inside Grellella's staff.
The other claimed to be a descendant of the ocean.
People of the sea share the same will, so even though this hand is new, it is ancient enough.
These two consciousnesses share the same body, but harbor different purposes.
They all wanted Chris to do things for them, so they often tried to take control of his body to talk to him. Whenever Chris saw this, he couldn't help but feel lucky.
If he still keeps that arm connected to his body, that so-called ocean consciousness will likely also vie for control of Chris's body.
Chris spent a lot of time figuring out how to distinguish between different people and who said which things.
Even so, Chris still felt a headache coming on when the two consciousnesses were trying to speak at the same time.
"Enough!" Chris shouted again. "I'll listen to you all, one at a time."
The arm was silent for a moment before it spoke again:
"I want to taste the potion; I can judge the quality of the medicine."
Upon hearing this, Chris picked up the glass bottle and dripped the medicine into his mouth, which was located in the hollow of his elbow.
A long, purplish-black tongue darted out of its mouth to catch the medicine drop.
He smacked his lips a few times, and suddenly his eyes beneath the scales twisted and glared at Chris:
"Idiot! Moron! How dare you try to fool me with this stuff!"
Chris looked completely innocent: "I'm not lying to you. This potion was made according to your recipe, and with the wizardry and magic you granted, the medicine underwent a second transformation before it was made into this potion."
"Moreover, I've already had someone test it, and it truly can turn ordinary people into wizards, awakening their magical talents."
And it's so much more effective than the first version of the potion you provided!
"The first version is not worthy of being called a potion at all; it was merely an alchemical potion," said the one speaking now, clearly an apostle of Grellara. "And alchemical potions have side effects; those who take them will surely die."
Chris was startled upon hearing this.
His community's army was made up of these temporary wizards who had taken magic potions.
If those wizard soldiers suddenly die, his community will immediately lose its fighting power, and his current status will be lost in an instant.
Chris asked urgently, "When will those people die? Is there any way to resolve this?"
"According to the master's experiments, he will die within one to three years after taking the drug. If he has good drug tolerance, he may be unaffected, but such people are one in ten thousand. And the side effects of the alchemical drug cannot be overcome."
After the apostle finished speaking, Chris was dumbfounded.
In other words, if the border defenses of the central community cannot be strengthened within a year, then everything will be over!
It seems we must consult with Ainar and urgently change our strategy.
Chris took a few breaths to calm himself down.
He then asked, "And what about this new potion?"
"It's more efficient, and the time of sudden death will be delayed by two to three years," the apostle exclaimed. "Who told you it's not a standard potion? You only made a inferior version."
"But it's also more expensive and difficult to make," Chris said. "Just finding people who can learn the witchcraft and magic you offer has almost made me go bald."
Therefore, even knowing that this potion was better, Chris would find it difficult to replace the first potion with it.
“You should not complain,” said the apostle. “You should give your all to help me fulfill my master’s dying wish! Besides, the difficulties you complain about are nothing but easy for my master.”
Chris will dedicate himself to only one thing: reaching greater heights in his destiny.
However, there's no need to tell this to that arrogant apostle:
"But no one can match the talent of the Witch of Calamity."
"That's true," the apostle smiled. "My great and beautiful master, when I still had a body, I could only complete a normal union with my wife by fantasizing about your body."
If Greta is truly beautiful, Chris also wants to see her, even if it's just for him to vent his frustrations:
"So, what exactly is wrong with this bottle of medicine?"
"Materials? I clearly told you that four additional materials were needed!"
"I added iron ore, ice, spring water, and gold dust."
"Fool! Have your ears been contaminated by those sea monsters?!"
"Hey, who are you talking to?!"
"You didn't even remember the materials I mentioned!"
Chris reached into his ear with his little finger and actually pulled out a large clump of earwax.
He said somewhat impatiently, "Tell me again, what are the four materials?"
"I've remembered clearly, they are 'iron mines in the highest places'."
Ice blocks from extremely cold regions
"A clear spring in an extremely secluded place"
"Gold dust from the ancient lands."
Chris shrugged. "If I remember correctly, I added iron ore, ice, spring water, and gold dust!"
"You should cut off that other useless ear too! Didn't you hear the prefix?!"
"What's the difference?"
"Of course there's a difference!"
"What's the difference?"
"this."
The apostle stammered, unable to utter a word for a long time.
"In short, these materials must be used."
Chris guessed that even this apostle was unaware of the specific differences.
He asked, "Where do you get these things?"
"Didn't I already tell you?"
"So where exactly are those extremely cold and ancient places?"
"This—" the apostle stammered again, "you must find it yourself."
Chris sighed upon hearing this:
"See, it's not that I don't want to work hard, it's just that you're not explaining yourself clearly at all!"
"My master always does everything himself, and I don't dare to ask too many questions, so there are many things I don't know very well."
Chris felt that this apostle, despite his loyalty, might not be so reliable:
"I have a question: did the Curse Witch actually manage to make this potion herself?"
"Just one step away."
"Just one step away?"
"The master sighed, the myth began too early, and she was born too late."
"What do you mean?"
"No one can fully understand the master's words. She is the embodiment of wisdom. We mortals can only try to understand a part or two of her true meaning by constantly pondering her words."
"But you're not getting it right," Chris thought to himself, "this is really getting in the way!"
Chris could only shake his head helplessly: "I'll give the orders for the materials from these 'specific locations,' and then try to make a new potion."
"Don't slack off, this is your glory, to serve the great Calamity Maiden!" "Hehe, my turn!"
Upon hearing this voice, Chris knew that it was the "Deep Sea Consciousness" speaking to him.
Chris sighed. "So, what do you want me to do for you this time?"
"It's very simple. Just find me seventeen kinds of fish, mix their brains with the seawater of the Weeping Canyon, and have humans consume it."
Chris squinted at his arm. "Your request is more specific, but why should I help you? The Apostle can bring me an army and is willing to advise me; our interests align. But what can you give me?"
"I can give you an entire ocean army."
"It's a pity my central square doesn't have an ocean."
"When the ocean has gathered enough strength, it will one day climb onto the shore, and you can hasten that day."
"But humans are terrestrial creatures. If the ocean were to climb onto the land, the land would instantly become the ocean. The reward you give me would ultimately be detrimental to me."
"Hehehe, easy! Accept us, join us, become us, and you will become part of the sea."
We... Chris dismissed it with disdain.
Chris paid a heavy price to finally reach his current destiny.
He is unwilling to share his status, finances, or power with anyone, and he will not accept any "us".
I am who I am!
But there's no need to offend this ocean consciousness that calls itself "us," and Chris happens to be good at lying:
"No problem, I will fulfill your needs as soon as possible so that that day can come sooner."
"Hehehe, hurry, as soon as possible."
"No, you should prioritize your master's dying wish: 'The deep sea accepts any individual; you only need to choose to forget, to completely forget—'"
Oh dear, they're making noise again.
Chris couldn't take it anymore. He raised an eyebrow, turned and walked outside, leaving the two of them arguing endlessly over the right to speak.
Chris didn't completely relax until he reached the lobby.
He sat in the cushioned chair and placed the bottle of potion, which still contained a considerable amount of the contents and was rated as a substandard product, on the round table in front of him.
Chris decided to feed it to someone; well, he couldn't waste it.
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," Chris called out lazily.
The door was pushed open, and as expected, it was Ainar:
"Elders".
"What is it?"
"The reply to the Herald Academy has been sent."
"Hmm, I'd also like to know which nerd they'll send me—anything else?"
"Yes," Enal bowed, "We have enough materials to make the second-generation potion. Shall we continue?"
"No," Chris shrugged. "The Apostle said your potion is substandard."
Ainar's eyes widened, and he hurriedly asked:
"What did the Apostle say?"
"The materials are wrong—"
Then, Chris repeated the four materials.
After hearing this, Ainar muttered something under his breath:
"The highest level—"
Chris ignored him; even though he considered himself a wizard, he had no interest in wizards or potions.
He looked ahead and saw the thick snow outside the window.
As a senior member, he naturally sat in the warm indoors.
But then again, "Ainar, why don't I see any fireplaces?"
"It's a special mineral called 'silver ice,' which helps maintain the warmth of the room."
Silver Ice?!
Chris suddenly looked at Enal: "Where do we need to mine the silver ice?"
What happened to the "Ice Tomb" in the Northern Community?
I've heard that even in the frozen continent, the Ice Kingdom is considered one of the coldest regions.
An extremely cold place?!
I see! If that's the case—
Chrismy raises her right eye—
What are the remaining three materials?