"Potions. I want lots of potions—and the things in your knowledge that you never gave me." Vera braced both hands on the table and rose to her feet, looming over Jiang Han with imposing force. "The knowledge you gave me was incomplete. Things were concealed, and some parts were deliberately steered elsewhere."
That's right. Even with Angelite and Andrea's orders, wasn't it perfectly normal for a witch to prevent other races from obtaining the secrets of spells? I wouldn't tell her even the complete spell model and principles behind Spell Hand... But now she's a... witch? Thoughts churned through Jiang Han's mind, yet she maintained her sweet, professional smile and asked in the voice she used for clients:
"No problem. But I'm surprised you know about potions—and that you know the knowledge was incomplete."
"Some mad... some witches mentioned it in front of me. You also alluded to it indirectly." Vera propped her chin on one hand, her eyes half-lidded. "I can't use spells in reality, so something must be missing. And the points you mentioned only briefly before deliberately skipping over them—if I take them out and study them, they're highly suspicious."
Witch spells were an exceptionally universal system. They required almost no spellcasting materials; one merely needed to drink a potion beforehand to cast spells.
The ingredients for those potions also had countless substitutes. In other words, a gifted witch could even enter an entirely unfamiliar dead-magic plane, find enough dead-magic plants, brew them into potions with spellcasting power, and rebuild the supernatural in a world cut off from heaven and earth—restarting the age of the extraordinary through her strength alone.
Jiang Han had no desire to give Vera potion recipes.
On Saintess Vera, she saw talent overflowing so abundantly it was nearly visible to the naked eye.