Dragon Blood Potion

The pristine, snow-white walls were illuminated by the magical light sources distributed across the ceiling, casting a bright glow over the compact, well-organized room where various complex and exquisite instruments were arranged in perfect order.

On the clean, polished laboratory bench, various processed herbal materials were neatly laid out in rows. On an adjacent experimental table, an unknown decoction simmered over a low flame in an iron saucepan.

In the empty room, a lean figure was busy processing a beautiful, blooming silver-white flower held in his hands. Its pure, flawless petals looked as if they were crafted from pristine ice and snow, yet in the hands of Ryan, this beautiful object was carefully dismantled—the stamens removed, the petals plucked, and each part categorized and laid out on silk.

"..., after adding a pinch of Void Salt, simmer over a low flame for about half an hour, then add three petals of Frost Flower. Once mixed and the medicinal properties have neutralized, add a quantity of Red Dragon Heart Blood. Continue to simmer until the potion turns deep red, then use magic to separate it, removing useless impurities. Collect the remaining liquid and let it cool for three standard hours to complete the process."

Ryan stared at the text on the light screen before him, his brows furrowed in frustration, yet he cautiously continued his work. Internally, Ryan was utterly speechless:

"Damn it, how much is 'a pinch'? And how many milliliters is 'a quantity'? Can these ancient alchemy masters stop being so abstract when writing their notes? Are these supposed to be common knowledge? Would it kill them to make the process precise down to the exact measurement?"

At this moment, Ryan was in a rented alchemy workshop at the Waterdeep Mages Guild, brewing a potion of great importance to him.

It had been three days since Ryan parted ways with Jelona. After agreeing on a time with the half-elf ranger, Ryan hadn't spent his time resting or idling at home; instead, he had been racing against the clock to prepare for the exploration of the ruins.

As someone with a "hamster-like" hoarding instinct, Ryan had spent the last two days purchasing a large quantity of daily necessities, food, and medicine, storing them all within his vast, empty Nascent Planeswalker Space. He had even retrieved a pile of quilts and clothing from the family warehouse as backups.

During this period, Ryan also found time to study the knowledge he had obtained from the Nether Scrolls at home. After nights of diligent study and research, his skills and knowledge regarding potions and spellcasting had improved significantly. These Nether Scrolls had helped Ryan take a giant leap in alchemy, finally allowing him to enter the inner sanctum of the craft and call himself an "Alchemist."

It was precisely because of this opportunity that Ryan had resolved to accomplish something he had been longing for today.

Ryan was currently brewing a magical and powerful potion—the "Dragon Blood Potion." The formula for this potion was an ancient one he had found among Yefalin's collection, recorded on a weathered piece of parchment tucked inside an old book. Based on his alchemical knowledge, its effects were similar to a Dragon Blood Baptism, but the processed potion lacked the severe side effects and high mortality rate of the ritual. Its powerful effects and mature, reliable safety had captivated Ryan, leaving him obsessed with the finished product.

However, what always left Ryan speechless was that the alchemy masters in Faerûn seemed to be "hands-on" types who relied entirely on experience. The inherited formulas were filled with vague terms like "a quantity," "a little," "a spoonful," and "a period of time." Alchemy apprentices often had to practice and fail many times before finally mastering the brewing process for a single potion. Even then, a tiny mistake could cause a nearly successful batch to fail at the last moment.

As for the renowned alchemy masters, relying on a lifetime of experience in the lab and muscle memory etched into their bones, they could indeed concoct high-quality potions, and occasionally, with a stroke of luck, produce a perfect-quality batch that would be sought after by thousands.

Yet, having witnessed the industrial systems of his past life, Ryan could not agree with this "home workshop" style of production. Although he knew most alchemists were guarded about teaching their techniques due to profit and heritage, he still couldn't help but mock these Faerûn "patent misers," whose purely experience-based alchemy was comparable to those "Ork" engineers from a neighboring universe who operated on the logic of "I think it works, so it works."

Note: In the Warhammer world, Ork engineers can weld together scraps scavenged from the battlefield, regardless of standards, and somehow turn them into weapons of war. This is the mysterious power of "I think this works, so it works."

Inheriting memories and a solid scientific foundation from his past life, Ryan was speechless at this workshop-style alchemy system. There were no standard measurements, no consistent production requirements, and no complete assembly lines. Every day, potions were manually prepared by a handful of apprentices with meager output, which kept the prices of consumables like magic potions consistently high in Faerûn.

However, relying on his system's recording function, Ryan had successfully explored the standard procedures for potion ratios while helping his teacher prepare basic potions in Silverymoon. Through constant trial and error, he had standardized the complex steps: which herb to add, how many milliliters were needed, and how long to heat at a specific temperature. Through the probing of his mental power during the brewing process, Ryan had gradually formalized these standards.

(In the preparation of magic potions, as long as one knows exactly which component of the herb is needed and its function, one can adjust the dosage based on actual conditions. Combined with assembly-line processing to improve efficiency, it is only natural that this would be superior to alchemists who rely solely on experience.)

By controlling variables and conducting comparative experiments, Ryan had successfully pushed the success rate of basic potions like "Lesser Healing Potion" and "Lesser Defense Potion" to over 90%. He could even guarantee that most of them were of "superior" quality, far surpassing the group of Faerûn alchemists who knew the "what" but not the "why."

Because of this, even though Ryan repeatedly tried to keep a low profile, he was still caught by Yefalin. However, while striving to meet his monthly quota for the Mages Guild, Ryan continued to hone his alchemy skills. With his growing expertise, he was now able to successfully brew most of the basic potions circulating on the market.

Of course, the clever Ryan didn't work for free. He was quite cunning, requesting raw materials based on the standard loss rates of ordinary alchemists. After completing his monthly tasks, he used the remaining materials for practice and experiments. He also sold the "Lesser Vitality Potions" and "Lesser Defense Potions" he didn't need on the black market, which became a major source of income during his studies.

Although Yefalin was aware of Ryan's little schemes, she turned a blind eye, seeing that he always completed his tasks perfectly and often exceeded them.

When Ryan obtained the formula for the Dragon Blood Potion, he had drooled over its effects. After all, a monk who doesn't want to be a berserker isn't a good mage.

Back on Blue Star in his past life, Ryan had learned from the countless facts of fragile mages being sliced up like vegetables by assassins: there is no future for a mage who doesn't build for durability; the capacity of a bucket is always determined by its shortest stave.

Although this was just a joke Ryan made to himself while reflecting on the past, strengthening his physical constitution did indeed help with spellcasting and increasing the upper limit of his mana and mental capacity. Honestly, Ryan wasn't wrong.

As a mage, Ryan firmly believed that he must train his body well while mastering his spells.

The continent of Faerûn was full of oddities: thieves who could dual-wield scimitars and perform whirlwind attacks, dark elves who insisted on justice and selflessness, and even liches who pursued the light with conviction. Having one more mage who could engage in melee combat with dragon-blooded barbarians was no big deal.

Unfortunately, the main ingredient for the Dragon Blood Potion was the blood of an adult dragon, specifically the heart blood.

Considering that the metallic dragons of Faerûn often formed factions and had close ties to the churches of good gods, Ryan had once set his sights on the evil, solitary chromatic dragons.

However, even though chromatic dragons were the quintessential evil bosses in legendary nursery rhymes, they were not as common as roadside goblins, nor were they as stupid or rigid as the stories suggested.

Even the disgrace of the chromatic dragons, the mindless white dragon, was not something an ordinary adventurer could face once it reached adulthood, thanks to its innate breath weapon and sharp claws.

Seeing perfectly preserved Red Dragon Heart Blood in the treasury this time, Ryan was moved and decisively chose it as one of his rewards.

As the most ferocious and physically powerful of the chromatic dragons, the Red Dragon's heart blood provided the best bonuses for the potion. While significantly enhancing physical constitution and strength, it would also grant the user a certain degree of fire immunity and a boost to fire-based abilities.

As Ryan's hands moved incessantly, he measured the ingredients and the order of addition with the stability and punctuality of a machine. Waves of magical energy slowly radiated from the crucible.

Ryan carefully controlled the time and heat. Only when the decoction turned a deep red did he pour the liquid into a pre-prepared crystal vial. After sealing it completely, he finally let out a sigh of relief.

Looking at the potion in his hand, which shimmered with a deep, dazzling luster like a ruby under the bright light, Ryan cast an Identification spell on it. Immediately, the specific effects of the potion appeared in his mind:

"Dragon Blood Potion (Creator: Ryan)

Category: Magic Potion

Effect: After use, Constitution +2, Strength +2, grants Lesser Fire Immunity, and boosts the power of fire-type magic.

Restriction: Constitution above 12, Intelligence above 14.

Description: The pride of the Red Dragon Dius does not allow the cowardly to challenge its majesty!"

A satisfied smile couldn't help but appear on Ryan's face. The effects of the Dragon Blood Potion did not disappoint; it perfectly compensated for his shortcomings in melee combat, allowing him to wield his heavy staff as flexibly as an extension of his own arm without the need for magical enhancement. Now, Ryan didn't need buffs to smash a bunch of barbarians' heads in—though, given Ryan's personality, if a buff could be added, he would still add it.

After repeatedly testing the Dragon Blood Potion with magic, Ryan took out a pre-prepared test subject—a goblin—from a cage, secured it to the white laboratory bench, and dripped a small amount of the potion into the terrified, struggling goblin's mouth.

As the potion took effect, the small, thin goblin let out a painful, hoarse scream. Its muscles visibly expanded, and the hair on its body fell out in clumps. The suffering goblin struggled and thrashed wildly, the surging strength pulling the metal shackles binding it taut. After roaring and struggling for a while, the goblin's eyes rolled back, and it passed out.

Ryan calmly recorded the goblin's symptoms from the side. Once it was unconscious, he stepped forward and skillfully drew blood for analysis, checking the goblin's physical condition. After a series of operations, he slowly exhaled and muttered to himself, "It seems my skills haven't rusted. The potion's effect is perfect, with no adverse consequences."

After preparing healing scrolls and protective measures, Ryan lay down on a cushion he had taken from his space and drank the blood-red potion from the crystal vial in one gulp.

As the potion entered his mouth and esophagus, Ryan felt as if he had swallowed a ball of scorching, molten fire. A wave of intense heat surged in his stomach. As the potion was ingested, rolling heat waves radiated from his body, and visible white steam rose from the top of his head. The scorching, powerful energy of the dragon's blood poured into his entire body through his blood vessels, violently reshaping his physique.

Ryan gritted his teeth tightly, enduring the waves of painful impact, maintaining a clear mind amidst the extreme agony.

Suddenly, Ryan's perspective shifted, transporting him high above a vast, open expanse where the azure ocean merged seamlessly with the boundless sky. A cluster of volcanoes billowing thick smoke lay behind him as his viewpoint plummeted in a rapid dive, snatching a Dire Boar from the mountain range with a single claw before soaring back into the heavens.

The scene shifted again, this time to a battlefield engulfed in flames, where arrows fell like locusts. Beautiful and agile Elves skirmished against the evil forces of Gnolls, Trolls, and other vile creatures. Suddenly, a massive, hideous Mad Dragon swept across the horizon like a storm, spewing lethal, scorching flames that incinerated everything in its path.

As the images flickered by one after another, Ryan calmly observed the Red Dragon as it hunted, fought, and mated, feeling the unbridled arrogance of this apex predator. Ryan understood that this was the trial left behind by the residual will within the dragon's blood; fail to endure it and all would be lost, but survive it and the path ahead would be clear.

Relying on his formidable mental fortitude and willpower, Ryan withstood the waves of psychic shocks. Compared to the inheritance of a Planeswalker, however, Ryan found this to be a mere trifle. Suddenly, his vision snapped back to reality, and as he felt his greatly increased strength and constitution, Ryan realized he had successfully weathered the impact of the Red Dragon's residual will and absorbed the potion.

Rising from the cushion soaked in his own sweat, Ryan first reached up to touch the top of his head. Feeling his smooth hair, he let out a sigh of relief. "Phew, thank goodness. The hair loss of Goblins is just an exception; I haven't gone bald, yet I've become stronger. Not bad, not bad at all."