Secrets of the Past

Allen inspected the chest carefully and found no special mechanisms. In the end, he slowly opened it. Inside were a stack of papers, a letter, and a bottle of potion.

He did not touch the contents directly, putting on gloves before examining them. Then he carefully took the potion out of the chest, set it in a corner, and opened the letter.

"When you read this letter, it means that a great alchemist has been murdered, and by those despicable nobles at that. I hope you are not a noble. If you are, then consider it my bad luck. Still, it stands to reason that those nobles would never bother reading a Goblin's ramblings in a book.

You may have read about my great deeds in the book, but I want to tell you this: never believe everything recorded in history books, because those things are what the damned nobles allow you to see. They will never let you know the truth. What I am about to tell you is the truth, the part missing from the book you obtained.

After those despicable nobles terminated their contract with me, they mercilessly drove me out of the laboratory. But a great alchemist never gave up over something like that. I continued working tirelessly to create and invent, until at last, a great invention was born. That's right, this is it. The potion you saw in the chest is a secret weapon that can restore a man's virility. With it, even bedding dozens of women in a single night is no problem. Just drink it, and for that night, you will be a real man.

With this, I, a great alchemist, would soon be immortalized in the annals of alchemy. Those who usually looked down on me would come begging, one after another, for even the tiniest bit of potion, especially those despicable nobles who had driven me out.

Afterward, they flattered me with the highest praise, so long as they could get potion from me. But I underestimated those despicable nobles. To your face, they praise you to the skies, while behind your back, they plot how to steal what you have. And so they framed me. They claimed there were serious problems with my potion, that everyone who had used it had fallen ill. But how could that be possible? There could not possibly be anything wrong with my potion.

Sure enough, those despicable nobles came to me immediately afterward. They threatened to throw me in prison unless I handed over the formula at once. But how could those hateful nobles make a great alchemist submit? I gave them a genuinely flawed formula. While they secretly congratulated themselves, they had no idea that the formula in their hands was fake. My final plan had been to leave Dalaran immediately, but I still underestimated how shameless those noble bastards could be. They murdered me to silence me. I left this behind before they could take control of me. If I do not return, then there is no doubt that they murdered me.

Whoever receives this letter, remember never to let down your guard against those despicable nobles. They will often bite you to death like venomous snakes. This is the final warning given to you by the great alchemist Graia Goldwheel."

At the end of the letter was the signature of the great alchemist Graia Goldwheel.

After reading the letter, Allen felt that Goldwheel's fate was probably nothing unusual. That was what nobles were like at heart. He also felt that Goldwheel must initially have dreamed of alchemy like other Goblins. But once they arrived in Dalaran, they would discover that every mage here jealously guarded their own knowledge. Anyone outside their own school had no chance of learning any alchemy, much less someone of another race. Goldwheel could therefore only create and invent things on his own. Yet his sole success had been forcibly seized by others, and in the end, he had not even been able to save his own life. Goldwheel's persecution also showed Allen the cruelty of this world. A moment's carelessness could leave him caught in someone else's schemes, and he might well end up suffering the same fate as Goldwheel.

After reading the letter, he did not dwell on it much. He took out the papers underneath and discovered that they were all formulas for potions Goldwheel had invented and created. He skimmed them and found that the only useful ones were the healing potion formula and the formula for the potion that gave men erections. There was no way he would make the erection potion now. Even if he made it, he would not dare sell it. If he ended up being targeted like Goldwheel, he would be finished.

The healing potion, on the other hand, was something he could make, because its formula was very common. It could even be bought on the market if one was willing to pay a high price. He had considered doing that before, but unfortunately, he had been nowhere near able to afford it. Now that he had a ready-made formula, things would be much easier.

He took everything out of the chest and put it in his backpack, then buried the chest again. Once he had done all that, he returned to Dalaran.

Back at the inn, Allen took out the healing potion formula. Goldwheel might have been an oddball, but that did not mean he had not studied other formulas. The healing potion formula was densely covered in annotations, many of which detailed Goldwheel's understanding of it. For a novice like Allen, nothing could have been better.

Only after carefully reading the formula and Goldwheel's annotations did Allen discover that his previous understanding of healing potions had been somewhat mistaken. As everyone knew, healing potions came in both magical and ordinary, nonmagical varieties. The most common ones on the market were nonmagical healing potions. These were much like ordinary ointments. An ordinary blade wound might take about a week to heal at the longer end, and even at the shorter end, it would take four or five days.

Magical healing potions were different. Applied to the same blade wound, they could stop the bleeding immediately and heal it completely within a few hours. The more magic they contained, the faster the recovery. Some potions could even heal a wound the moment they were applied. Whether a potion contained magic was therefore very important.

Previously, he had always assumed that ordinary healing potions and magical healing potions must have completely different formulas. But according to Goldwheel's manuscript, ordinary healing potions were actually the result of failed attempts to make magical potions. Both kinds of potion were products of the same formula.

After correcting this misconception, he intended to begin experimenting with the potion formula immediately. But there was another difficulty. Brewing a magical potion required infusing magical energy during the process. That was why alchemists were almost all mages. Without a mage's magic to support it, a potion would never succeed.

But he was not a mage and had no magic to speak of. His only possibility was to use that energy stone, but he had already used up more than half of it charging the staff. Moreover, the energy stone could not replenish its own energy. Every bit used was gone for good. He feared he would drain it before he had even worked out how to make a healing potion. He sighed and decided to visit the market and shops tomorrow to see whether he could obtain some.

The next day, he went out with the Membership Card the caravan had given him last time. But he did not rush to find the shop, visiting the market first instead. It was as bustling as ever, with people coming and going. He browsed stall after stall, using his mental power to scan every item at each one. Twenty minutes later, he had found nothing. That was hardly surprising. If bargains were so easy to find, others would have snapped them up long before he had a chance.

Allen did not think much of coming away empty-handed and went to the shop's entrance. It was called Chris Magic Goods Shop, the same name as on the Membership Card in his hand. After confirming that this was the right place, he went straight inside. The shop was small, even somewhat cramped, with wooden crates packed densely along both sides. The shopkeeper was a fat, middle-aged man who greeted Allen warmly when he entered. "My lord, how may I help you?"

Allen explained directly what he had come for and produced his Membership Card. Seeing it, the shopkeeper realized that this customer might have connections to the family and treated Allen with even greater courtesy.

"My lord, many things fit your description. What exactly do you need?" "What do you have here? Bring them out for me to look at first," he told the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper did not refuse. He asked Allen to wait there, then went straight to the back of the shop to search. Soon, he returned with two wooden boxes in his hands.

The shopkeeper walked up to Allen, opened the box in his left hand, and introduced its contents. "This is Firestone. It comes from the magma inside volcanoes and is extremely difficult to obtain. It is only expelled along with magma during volcanic eruptions. There is also a small chance of obtaining it by killing a Flamewaker. Firestone is extremely scarce. Moreover, this kind of magic stone is different from ordinary ones. As long as you do not overuse it, it can absorb nearby magic on its own to replenish itself."

Allen nodded and asked how much it cost. The shopkeeper named his price. "Eight hundred gold coins. Of course, as our honored customer, you receive a ten percent discount, so it is only seven hundred and twenty." Allen had long since stopped reacting to the prices here. He had never intended to buy this Firestone anyway. Quite apart from whether he could afford it, it was unsuitable as a source of magic for healing potions. He needed something gentle and easy to control.

Next, Allen asked what was in the shopkeeper's other hand. The shopkeeper immediately opened it and said, "This one is Earthstone. It can only be found deep underground in certain places. I paid a hefty sum to buy this piece from a dwarf. Five hundred gold coins, or four hundred and fifty with the ten percent discount. How does that sound?"

He really wanted to say it sounded terrible, because he could not afford either of them. But he did not want to be looked down on, so he told the shopkeeper, "Do you have anything else? I'm afraid these aren't of much use to me."