Dawn had barely broken, and a few stars still dotted the deep, faintly pale sky.
The boy lay on his side on a Simmons mattress, covered by a thin quilt. He seemed to be having a lovely dream. His lips were soft and lustrous as jade, their corners slightly lifted, and a faint smile rested on his delicate face, as pleasant and comforting as the May sunshine.
Noise rose outside the window, disturbing the boy's sweet dream.
Al stretched, washed up, and stepped out of his room. Hemet and Williden had long been waiting outside.
"My lord, did you sleep well last night?"
Williden's smile was somewhat fawning. Ever since witnessing the boy's mighty power, his attitude had taken a complete 180-degree turn.
"Have you taken care of what I asked you to do?"
"Of course, of course. Nine this morning, in the camp's central square. I've already notified everyone. I'm sure your specialist class will draw a large crowd."
Al offered no comment. He merely nodded slightly and went to prepare the "lecture materials" he would need for the upcoming class.
"Have you heard? Apparently some master is coming to teach today."
"Stop talking nonsense, Joseph. Instead of worrying about how the big shots entertain themselves after dinner, you'd be better off hunting a few more good pelts."
"Ah, I've already decided to go back to farming in Lakeshire next month. Those damned plants are practically crawling up to my bedside..."
The central square bustled with people of all races. Some whispered among themselves, while plenty of others talked loudly.
But listening closely, all their discussions revolved around the Bloodpetals spreading like a virus, and more than eighty percent were pessimistic about the camp's future.
Al's party strolled toward the center of the square. Along the way, members of every race turned to stare at him.
"Is that... an elf? Holy Light above, I actually got to see a legendary elf on the other side of the world. Today really is old Martin's lucky day."
"Will hates that pretty boy with the long ears. He must be a big shot. Will hates big shots."
Al ignored the noisy crowd and went straight up onto the makeshift lectern.
"That Tauren. Yes, you. Stand at the back."
Without mercy, Al pushed the tall Tauren blocking everyone's view to the very last row.
"Heavens, he actually picked a fight with Mr. Heavyfist. Looks like that kid's going to get punched."
"Confident women look their best; confident long-ears get punched. Haha, this'll be a good show."
Al's actions were like cold water splashed into hot oil. The crowd erupted.
Will Heavyfist: Who am I? Where am I? What am I supposed to do?
"Waaah! He shoved me! I'm going to find my mommy!"
Covering his eyes, the black-skinned Tauren ran out of the crowd, bawling all the way, and vanished in the blink of an eye.
The crowd: ...
Al: Something seems a little off about Charm Person's effects?
"Ahem, quiet, please."
Spell light flashed over Al's right hand. Everyone below the platform sensed that something strange had changed, but could not immediately tell what.
A dark purple Silence Field enveloped the crowd overhead. The noisy square instantly fell silent, leaving only astonished looks.
"All right. To improve the quality of this lesson, please forgive me for playing a little trick on you. The Silence Field will disappear once class is over."
Al casually offered a perfunctory elven noble's bow. With this mixed bag of adventurers, that much explanation was already the limit of what he could manage.
"Mr. Marshal invited me here to resolve your current predicament. To cut a long story short, class begins!"
Before his words had faded, Al took an iron cage from Hemet below the platform. Inside, a frenzied plant could just be made out, flailing wildly.
"Given everyone's level of education, I'll keep the explanation simple..."
Al took the plant out of the cage. The Bloodpetal, restless just a moment earlier, immediately quieted down.
"Bloodpetals are semi-elemental creatures that possess all the characteristics of plants, but they have a special ability: during photosynthesis, they continuously release a particular gas. I'm sure many of you have smelled it...
"Though for most people, that smell isn't exactly a pleasant experience."
Al smiled at the people below, who were nodding unconsciously, and continued.
"But if there were any spellcasters here, they would notice that this gas isn't harmful. Quite the opposite. Its effects are useless to physical classes, but for spellcasters..."
The crowd unconsciously focused their attention on the elven boy writing and drawing on the blackboard.
"For spellcasters, it's an exceptionally rare treasure..."
"This gas can accelerate improvements in the quality of a spellcaster's meditation. By my estimate, exposure to this gas will also increase meditation speed by 1.8 to 3.2 times..."
Flames began burning in the adventurers' eyes. Al knew that was the scent of greed. In his previous life, with enough profit on offer, even demigods could be steamrolled by the murder hobos. And in a certain sense, greedy adventurers were even more terrifying than murder hobos.
"Be patient. I haven't finished."
Al pointed at the adventurers in the back rows who were trying to slip out of the crowd.
"That covers what makes this plant valuable. Next, I'll explain its troublesome characteristics.
"As everyone knows, these frenzied plants live in groups. Their sharp, four-petaled mouths can easily bite through an adult human's hand. Tauren excepted..."
Will Heavyfist: Mommy, why does that long-ears keep picking on me?
"There's also their corrosive mucus. If it gets on you, you'll lose a layer of skin, if not your life.
"Just imagine: a single Bloodpetal might be no match for you, but what about dozens? Hundreds? I'm sure you know I'm not being alarmist."
No sooner had Al finished than cold sweat broke out on the heads of the few adventurers who had just tried to leave. They obediently returned to their original spots and continued listening.
Al took a small bottle out of his spatial backpack. The pale yellow liquid in the crystal bottle reflected a dazzling light in the sunshine.
"And this Jinkela potion, which I developed myself, can solve that problem perfectly..."
With a mysterious smile, Al released the Bloodpetal's restraints. The frenzied plant began darting about the moment it regained its freedom.
Corrosive saliva dripped from its split mouth, leaving several small holes in the wooden platform and frightening all the adventurers below into taking a step back.
If it weren't for the Silence Field, these wimps would probably be screaming loud enough to pierce the heavens, Al thought with no shortage of malice.
Unhurriedly, he cast Imprisonment, fixing the Bloodpetal in place. The frenzied plant slammed wildly against the transparent barrier, but the golden cylinder remained utterly motionless and exceptionally sturdy.
This spell was Shackle, which Al had picked up by secretly observing the high-ranking priest Fengdelor. After his radical modifications, it had become a new version.
Gently pouring a drop of pale yellow liquid from the crystal bottle, Al brought it close to the imprisoned Bloodpetal as tenderly as if he were caressing a lover.
Strangely enough, the previously frenzied Bloodpetal suddenly turned docile. Gas as thick as smoke slowly poured from its four-part mouth, making Al cough repeatedly.
"That was careless. This stuff smells as awful as ever..."
"One drop of Jinkela can keep a Bloodpetal in its current state for one full day. It's nontoxic and harmless.
"You've all seen the effects. That concludes the lesson. If you have any questions, you can discuss them with my store manager, Hemet Nesingwary. Students, class dismissed..."
Al dismissed the Silence Field and used Blink to leave this place of trouble.
"Pfft."
Someone let out a fart.
The three-second silence broke, and the crowd charged madly toward the bewildered Hemet.
"Mr. Hemet, please give me a bottle of Jinkela. Money is no object."
"Get the hell out of my way! I'll take all the Jinkela you have!"
"Stop shoving... I was here first, you bastard!"
Things began spiraling out of control. Frenzy and greed filled the adventurers' faces as they punched and kicked one another, all for the sake of buying a single bottle of Jinkela from Hemet.
"Stop hitting me! Stop! Old Hemet's bones are going to break! Heavens, my beard! Who's pulling my beautiful beard..."
Hemet had no time to escape before the swarming adventurers knocked him to the ground.
No one knew who struck first, but the scramble turned into a brawl. Hemet promptly took several hard blows to the face, and even had a few tufts ripped out of his beautiful black beard.
"Jinkela, Jinkela, the mage lords need it~"
"Whoa, who are you?"
Humming a little tune as he prepared lunch, Al saw a dwarf with a bruised face and swollen nose come through the doorway.
"My lorb, you weally scwewed me ober." (My lord, you really screwed me over.)
Clutching a stack of orders that reached above his chest, Hemet stood before Al, speechless and choked with tears.
Hemet: So love does fade, right?