Disguise Ointment

Chapter 35: Disguise Ointment

Good heavens, I'm sitting on a mountain of treasure now!

Dole was only a wizard apprentice, so naturally he couldn't make use of magic crystals yet, but that didn't stop him from dreaming about them.

He swallowed, closed his eyes, and forced those thoughts down. When he opened them again, he said, "I'll find my own food these next few days. You don't need to worry about me." With that, he burrowed into the mountains in search of herbs. Since Bal had said there were no wild beasts here, there definitely weren't any. With such a mighty god nearby, what creature would dare linger in the vicinity?

This place was already far from Duomeng City, deep in uninhabited wilderness. Once he left the mountaintop, grass and trees surrounded him in every direction, with all kinds of plants growing everywhere. He had to distinguish medicinal herbs from among them.

But he quickly discovered that the mountain paths were difficult to traverse—at least for someone unarmed like him. There were plenty of herbs on the ground. After only a few dozen steps, he had already found many plants recorded in Basic Potionology.

Bal had given him many books: Basic Magic Pattern Studies, Basic Potionology, Basic Materials Studies, and Naluye's Biography. All of them were immensely valuable. He had yet to read Magic Pattern Studies because he couldn't really understand it, but he had been reading Potionology all along and knew the low-grade herbs recorded within quite well.

His goal was to become a true warrior or wizard. Whether one was a warrior without backing or a wizard without backing, learning to identify herbs was crucial. No matter the profession, one needed an enormous supply of medicinal ingredients to advance quickly. Why did great clans produce so many geniuses? On one hand, great clans passed things down generation after generation, selecting talented people in every generation. With this continuing through the ages, the descendants they produced naturally would not be much worse off in talent, and might even surpass ordinary people. On the other hand, those families were wealthy. Their children never lacked cultivation methods from an early age, possessed inheritances passed down through the ages, and used all kinds of herbs to build a solid foundation. Naturally, they advanced quickly. Unlike Dole, who was all alone, without even a single person to talk to—tragic beyond words.

Dole held the Potionology book in his hands, walking while observing his surroundings, flipping through the book as he went, searching for herbs he could use.

The mountain was difficult to navigate. There were no paths, and branches and vines sprawled everywhere. Dole spent a long time walking only a short distance and gathered some medicinal herbs, but he was still far, far away from obtaining what he needed.

Still, he wasn't discouraged. Food was no concern here. Although it was somewhat cold, it remained within tolerable limits. With Bal around, even the mountain's environment had changed because of his presence. Dole barely felt the heat or cold at all.

That was a level-seven creature. Even a level-one wizard could strut sideways through Duomeng City, let alone a level-seven being like Bal. Whenever Dole thought about how he had petted him every day before, he couldn't bring himself to feel happy.

He had been playing with fire.

As he walked, his thoughts ran wild.

It took Dole several days to clear a path down the mountain. Then, extending outward from that path in both directions, he gathered all sorts of herbs until he had filled several large bundles.

This was deep in the mountains, far from any city. Not even hunters came here. It was extremely safe.

He thought that if he brought all these herbs into the city, they would probably sell for quite a few silver coins.

After bustling about for several days, Dole finally gathered enough herbs. He returned to the mountaintop and looked around. By then, Bal had moved elsewhere and was lying on the ground. A mysterious power flowed around him. Dole could neither see nor sense it, yet he still had an inexplicable feeling of its existence.

Bal raised his head and glanced at Dole. The man and dog understood each other without a word.

Dole did not deliberately pay Bal any mind. He began fussing with his jars and bottles, sorting everything into categories.

There was water on the mountain, and Dole could make fire by rubbing sticks together, so he lacked no materials. Besides, low-grade herbs did not require particularly high-end tools in the first place.

The first medicine he brewed was not a disguise medicine, but an external wound medicine. This medicine was very simple and happened to suit his current injuries.

Without measuring tools, Dole could only judge the proportions of the herbs by hand. Squatting on the ground, he gathered all the ingredients for the wound medicine and weighed them one by one in his palm.

Another benefit of high mental power was heightened sensitivity to everything, including weight. Before long, he had measured out three portions of wound medicine. He took one portion, fetched a large pot, tossed all the herbs inside, added water, and lit a fire. Soon, a plume of cooking smoke rose and bloomed through the woods.

That was right—he was boiling it. The most primitive method of brewing medicine.

After boiling it for about an hour, Dole spread out the fire and leaned over the pot to take a look and a sniff. Mmm, the smell was pretty good, with a faint herbal tang.

Using a small wooden stick, he fished out the larger pieces of herb and woody dregs, then continued boiling it over a low flame. He boiled it until all the water evaporated, revealing a dark brown substance at the bottom.

That was medicinal paste.

Dole found some grass and fanned the pot to cool it down. It quickly cooled.

He scooped out a lump of medicinal paste with his hand and smeared it over his body. At once, a cool sensation seeped through his skin and into his body, leaving him immensely comfortable.

It worked.

It wasn't that hard, was it?

The medicinal effect was exactly as the book had described. There was no mistake. Dole was overjoyed.

At that moment, Bal slowly walked over from afar. He was still in dog form. Looking at the medicine in Dole's pot, he found it rather interesting. This guy had succeeded on his first try?

"This is only the most basic prototype of a potion. In the most ancient times, humans had no tools and relied on this method to extract medicine. This method fell behind long ago, but our conditions are a bit poor, so we'll just make do with it."

Dole did not mind at all. He nodded happily and said, "Mm, I know. I'll practice first. This medicine can also remove scars. I'll see whether I can restore my original appearance."

Dole's body was covered in ugly scars left behind after his wounds had healed.

Bal snorted, seeming deeply disdainful. "Whether it's the warrior system or the wizard system, once you cultivate to a high level, the scars on your body will slowly disappear. Don't worry. As long as you keep cultivating, however you looked before is how you'll look again in the future—and you'll only become more handsome."

Then he turned his gaze toward the distance and said, "Be careful when you're gathering herbs lately. Bianchi Mining has already discovered magic crystal ore slag. I estimate that people from the Northern Kingdom's Ability Society will come looking in a few days."

Dole froze, and then his heart sank.

He nodded and said, "I've already found all the herbs I need. Now all that remains is brewing them. It's just that the Hallucinogenic Potion is difficult to make. It requires many auxiliary ingredients."

Bal nodded. "That isn't urgent. Make the disguise medicine first. You can make the Hallucinogenic Potion after returning to the city. If it really doesn't work out, find a job and take it slowly. There's no rush to take revenge."

Dole's expression darkened. How could he not be in a hurry? He wished those people would die immediately.

Bal soon vanished into the forest, and Dole had no idea where he went.

Watching Bal disappear, Dole took off his tattered clothes, scooped out all the medicinal paste, and smeared it over his body before changing into a fresh set of clothes.

Once Bal left, the mountain became cold again.

That guy was like an automatic temperature-regulating machine—and an incredibly useful one at that.

In the days that followed, he brewed only two kinds of medicine: one for healing injuries, and one for disguise. The disguise medicine was likewise an ointment. It did not disguise someone merely by being smeared onto the face. Rather, it altered the thickness and color of the skin, changing a person's outward appearance rather than their essence. Its residue was ash-white, very close to skin color. Dole tried several times, but the color of the medicinal residue was always wrong.

Before long, he ran out of herbs.

He sighed. He had known it would not be easy, but he had not expected it to be this difficult. Even Naluye had needed several attempts before succeeding, so Dole did not lose heart. He went out to gather herbs again.

These were all low-grade herbs, so they were easy to find.

Besides the specific herbs he needed, Dole also gathered many other medicinal ingredients. When he went down the mountain, he planned to sell them to a pharmacy. That would be another source of income. His previous money had all gone toward purchasing mental power herbs, and the remaining amount had been stripped from him when he entered the police station. Right now, he did not have a single coin on him.