Would You Be Willing to Wait a Few Days for Me?

After the Witcher and his apprentice left, Kraun tossed his dented iron pot into the back courtyard.

After cleaning up the mess, he propped up the door, which was hanging halfway off its frame, with a chair.

Praise Lord of Flame. While cleaning up, he had made a point of checking that the room where he prepared herbs hadn't been damaged by the Werewolf.

He'd thought he could take the world's troubles in stride, but now the Werewolf's revenge was imminent.

"Should I run?" Kraun muttered to himself.

His life here had only just begun to improve, and now the Werewolf was about to shatter his peace. He was getting angry.

First, he'd make some money, then see if he could use Father's connections to train as a Crusader Order warrior.

From his conversation with Geralt, Kraun had learned that what people called a Crusader warrior was the Transcendence profession he knew as a Knight.

They had strong bodies and could handle Monsters with ease, but they weren't as effective against incorporeal beings like Evil Spirits. They could only harm them with certain weapons.

But Kraun thought the two professions would complement each other perfectly.

His Spirit Controller abilities felt a little underwhelming, but the Golden Light Incantation could deal with incorporeal beings like Evil Spirits. If he could train as a Knight, their strengths would cover each other's weaknesses.

As for the idea that training in two Transcendence professions at once would divide his attention, that didn't apply to him. He just had to keep grinding.

After quickly tidying the worktable, he took out the remaining ingredients for the Blood-Boiling Potion, which he'd prepared earlier, and divided each portion into smaller amounts.

He recalled the steps for making the Blood-Boiling Potion, then got started.

Potion-making might not look tiring, but it was physical work.

Herbalists had to stay focused at all times. Even the smallest mistake could ruin the entire batch.

Blue tulip petals floated in pure water. Once it boiled, Kraun added basil juice, and the blue liquid, now tinged with purple, spread through the beaker.

He ground black sage into powder in a mortar, then heated it dry in a retort. He channeled the smoke into the boiling beaker.

Half an hour later, Kraun shook his head and poured the leftover liquid into the trash.

As expected, his first attempt had failed.

After resting for a while, he mentally reviewed the process, looking for his mistakes.

Once he understood how to avoid them, he started another batch.

Again and again.

Kraun had already made seven attempts, and he was making fewer and fewer mistakes.

On the last one, he'd almost succeeded, but his excitement got the better of him. He hadn't moved the alcohol lamp away in time, and the potion was ruined.

He sat in his chair, pressing his fingers against his temples.

A golden panel appeared before his eyes.

Herbalism: 142/5000; Tier Three

Seven attempts had increased his proficiency by more than a hundred points. His Herbalism was taking off again.

Kraun smiled with satisfaction, stood up, and stretched his back and legs.

Then he completed two cycles of Golden Light Incantation Visualization.

Since the skill advanced, Visualization outside Mao Hour and You Hour no longer left him as hungry as before.

The Golden Light Incantation was excellent for restoring his energy. After two cycles, more than half of his exhausted mental faculties felt ready to work again.

Time to grind!

Kraun strode over to the worktable, cleaned up the mess from his last attempt, and began another batch.

Confident and familiar with the process, he succeeded this time without a hitch.

He set the potion on the cooling rack and, while he was on a roll, immediately began another.

Some batches succeeded, others failed. By the time the sky outside began to brighten, he suddenly realized that Mao Hour was almost here.

He'd made twelve attempts overnight, with three successes, and still had eighteen small portions of ingredients left to use.

With a satisfied smile, Kraun put the work aside and began preparing for Visualization.

The winter sun was rising later and later, cutting into the time he could spend improving his Golden Light Incantation proficiency.

His frying pan was unusable, and the Werewolf had eaten all the chicken he'd stored, so he had to go out to find something to eat.

The next day, near noon, Kraun wrapped the nine successful Blood-Boiling Potions in a layer of felt, packed them into his backpack, and left home for the Goat Inn.

Business was slow at this hour. Old Jason was dozing behind the counter.

Kraun didn't wake him. Perhaps the innkeeper was exhausted from the night before. The Pink Potion lasted two hours, and the inn stayed open late. Add in that much exercise, and—

He went into the courtyard and headed straight for the room where Lemanski was staying.

The Gisai's belongings had all been packed.

"You're in such a hurry to leave?"

The old man, who had been sitting with his eyes closed, opened them to narrow slits. "We'll leave after lunch. If you still haven't come by then, we'll head out without you."

Kraun set his backpack on the table, took out the potions, and said casually, "Why don't you check them?"

Lemanski, who had looked listless just a moment ago, sat upright and snatched the potions from him. "You made all of these?"

As he spoke, the old man picked up one and shook it a few times.

Seeing that the potion's color was still bright and there were no impurities, he uncorked it and held it beneath his nose.

"Hey, you've been sniffing that for ages. Of course I checked my own potions before I brought them. I'm a very conscientious Herbalist."

Seeing Lemanski with his eyes closed, sniffing like a puppy, Kraun teased him with a laugh.

The old man ignored the joke and repeated the same checks eight more times.

Only after inspecting all the potions did he speak gravely. "It's our first time doing business, and we're dealing in Transcendence potions. Caution is necessary. If one of these potions is made improperly, it won't help anyone. It'll be poison."

"So, no poison, right?"

After a few seconds of silence, the old man repeated his earlier question. "You made all of these?"

"Of course. I'm the only Herbalist in little Zack Town."

Hearing the answer he'd already expected, the old man's expression grew even more serious. "Have you made this potion before?"

Kraun pulled up a chair and sat down, his tone unhurried. "If I said I'd never made it before, that last night was my first attempt, would you believe me?"

He wanted to show as much of his talent as possible so others would value him.

There was no need to keep it hidden.

A sharp blade in its sheath drew no notice; one bared in full view would. If you were only a little better than others, they might envy you. If you were far better, all you'd get was admiration.

Besides, he was desperately short of money. He wanted to start training with Father as soon as possible.

Lemanski's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly he drew a sharp breath.

Making potions wasn't easy. So far, he only knew how to make two kinds of Transcendence potions, and his success rate was under twenty percent.

If Kraun was telling the truth, he'd managed a success rate of over twenty percent on his very first try at an entirely new potion. What the hell—he was a walking potion-making machine, and one with an absurdly high success rate at that.

"By the way, is there some urgent reason you're leaving in such a hurry? If it's not urgent, would you be willing to wait a few days for me?"