"Roland..."
Inside the tent, Avril struggled to chew the black bread in her mouth.
Her small, palm-sized face was etched with bitterness.
"When you went to see Dean Graham earlier, did he say when we could leave this place?"
"Dean Graham said... we have to wait a little longer."
Roland felt the coarse, sandy texture in his mouth. He set down the bread, grabbed the waterskin beside him, and took several large gulps.
"Still have to wait?"
Avril, who had been lying listlessly on the table, shot upright, her voice full of complaint.
"It’s already been ten whole days! I can’t stand eating this stuff anymore..."
As if in a fit of pique, she stuffed the large remaining piece of black bread into her mouth.
Her cheeks puffed out, making her look just like a huffy little hamster as she glared resentfully ahead.
"Just bear with it a little longer, Avril..."
Roland looked at the dark-colored bread in his hand and sighed helplessly.
Vanessa hadn’t prepared a large stock of Concentrated Nutrient Potions to begin with.
To be ready for any potential accidents, Roland had stored away the remaining Potions after arriving at the military camp, eating the sa rationed provisions as the common soldiers.
And ever since that chasm cut off the supply lines, the food in the camp...
It even reminded Roland of his days back at the Black Water Manor, when he had yet to pass the Blacksmith Apprentice assessnt.
But even things back then were better than this.
At least he could occasionally have a bowl of thin vegetable soup for a change of pace.
Roland shook his head and, with a swig of water, forced down the last bit of bread.
He then leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the crowded tent.
Although it was newer than the tent he had stayed in at Avril’s camp, the space was still pitifully small.
And this cramped place was now cramd with five people.
It wasn’t that Graham was treating them poorly, it was just that...
Mason was naturally shy and introverted. He felt ill at ease being alone in a military camp full of strangers, so he spent most of his ti in Roland’s tent, except when he was sleeping.
And Beastman Freddy, due to his overly fierce and nacing appearance, had been misunderstood more than a few tis these past days, so he simply holed up in Roland’s tent as well.
As for Avril...
She had often visited Roland’s ho back in the Royal Capital, so he had long since grown accustod to her presence.
Finally, there was Vanessa...
Roland’s gaze fell upon the Purple-haired Witch, who took up almost half the tent’s space. He sighed softly and asked,
"Vanessa, has your research made any progress? Found any leads?"
"Why, Mr. Roland..."
Vanessa chuckled without looking up, her tone carrying its usual teasing lilt.
"Does staying in the sa tent as make you uncomfortable?"
Though she was talking, the movents of her hands never paused for a mont.
The wooden table before her was piled high with the Alchemy Tools she had brought.
Ground powders of various colors were scattered to the side, and a crucible was gurgling, emitting a strange steam.
In the very center of the table sat a shriveled, octopus-like head.
It was the head of the Heartstealer.
This head was the main reason Roland had sought out Graham earlier.
After reporting the situation to the Dean, Roland had gathered his partners and explained his plan moving forward.
Unlike the others, who had reacted with relief, Vanessa showed a strong interest in the Heartstealer head Roland ntioned.
Considering she had successfully refined a Potion that stimulated one’s Spiritual Energy potential, Roland gave it so thought before visiting Graham again to request the head.
Graham hadn’t refused.
To him, the Heartstealer head was just sitting there anyway. At most, he would have taken it back to be made into a specin, a trophy of war.
So, Roland obtained it smoothly and handed it over to the Purple-haired Witch before him, who was now imrsed in her research.
Just as Roland was lost in thought, Vanessa’s research was quietly reaching its conclusion.
Her slender fingers darted nimbly between glass vessels. Licked by the Demon Fla, the turbid liquid in the crucible gradually settled into a deep, almost ominous, indigo-purple.
Syllables like an ancient rhythm flowed softly from her lips. A faint glimr at her fingertips, as if alive, carefully guided the flow of the refined Spiritual Energy.
"It’s done."
A mont later, the Purple-haired Witch finally stopped, her voice a mixture of fatigue and unconcealable excitent.
She held up a slender Crystal Bottle containing a viscous liquid.
Its color was much deeper than the previous Potion that stimulated Spiritual Energy potential, and its texture was like slowly flowing syrup.
Based on appearance alone, it looked remarkably similar to the unrefined blood of a Heartstealer.
But...
Roland held his breath. His naturally diffused Spiritual Power instantly coalesced, reaching toward the Crystal Bottle like an invisible tentacle.
Although he could feel that the flow of Energy within it had a heavy viscosity, it was astonishing that he couldn’t detect the slightest trace of the Heartstealer’s malicious and twisted spiritual whispers.
This discovery stirred in Roland a deeper desire to understand the Purple-haired Witch’s accomplishnts in Alchemy.
’What thod did she use...?’
Roland replayed Vanessa’s seemingly ordinary alchemy steps in his mind, but in the end, he could only shake his head slowly.
anwhile, Vanessa gently swirled the bottle. As the deep purple liquid slowly slid down the inner wall, she gazed at the flowing violet light within, the corner of her mouth curling into an inscrutable arc.
"Interesting... Under this ’calmness,’ the Power seems to have beco more restrained... and more concentrated."
Just like last ti, the Witch divided the Potion into two equal portions.
She drank one portion first, licked her lips as if wanting more, and then offered the other to Roland.
Just as Roland was about to reach out and take it, Avril, who was standing to the side, instinctively blocked Vanessa’s arm.
The undisguised wariness in the Elf Maiden’s eyes made Roland gently pat her shoulder before taking the Crystal Bottle.
This reassuring gesture, which held no deeper aning, caused Avril to narrow her eyes slightly under Vanessa’s provocative eyebrow-raise. The lively smile on her face vanished in an instant.
However, Roland paid no mind to the silent clash between the two won.
His full attention was on the Potion in his hand.
After confirming there was nothing wrong with the Potion, he tilted his head back and drank the liquid in one go.
The viscous, cold liquid slid down his throat, bringing a strange, almost tallic sluggishness that was far more intense than the gentle Potion from last ti.
It wasn’t like water; it was more like a congealed, slowly lting block of Ice, dropping into his stomach with an indescribable weight.
Instantly, a bone-chilling torrent exploded in his abdon.
But this was not pure coldness; it was an icy chill that contained a violent Energy, as if a polar Storm had been compressed into liquid form.
This force didn’t spread gently as it had last ti. Instead, it transford into countless sharp, frigid torrents of Spiritual Energy, savagely charging toward every nerve ending in his body.
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