Tenkomori: The Homecoming Club Conquers Another World

Chapter 24: The Daily Life of an Eight Year Old – Challenges

I purchase a low-quality healing potion with antipyretic and sedative effects for six silver coins, and the normal quality with the same effect for one gold coin and one1 silver coin. If I had bought it at the store, I would have paid 5 silver coins for the low-quality potion without the grant and 1 gold coin for the standard potion, so I think the price was quite reasonable.

On the spot, I bought some Theron grass and some other materials. I left it to the feeling of "Mixing 3" and chose materials at random. It would probably be okay.

When I returned to the mansion, Roland had completed my request, and there were more than 20 bottles of alchemical solution, two small leather bags, and a small bottle on the table. There was also a pile of change.

I looked into the leather bag and the vials with a wry smile.

Is this the material for the cure?

Several images come to my mind.

But I know what it is. That is a different concoction. The juice of the Kerisea is simply a way to prepare a poison. Einaris comes to mind, but they are all other drugs. My senses told me that none of them were off. No wonder Simon and the others are having trouble.

I'm not ready for this.

I pushed the ingredients for the cure aside and spread out the ingredients I had bought.

I took out the bark of the Vescea tree. Unlike the healing potion process, the bark would have to be boiled and distilled in an alchemical solution before I could use it. The new process should be more of an experience. Above all, the Vescea bark is now useful.

Soon, the healing potion with the addition of Vescea bark was ready.

I took a sip, then use "Appraisal", and then drank it all in one gulp.

As the bitterness passed down my throat, I felt a lightness in the back of my brain.

I think it worked safely. Vescea bark has the effect of waking up sleepy. I thought it would be even more potent if I mixed it, but it worked as expected.

I got back into the swing of things and began to work on the next concoction.

The new ingredients took me some time to make. But regardless of success or failure, it was a steady stream of experience.

Trying to make a few, I borrowed old cooking utensils and lamps, I also purchased some and made several concoctions too. One of the ingredients I chose at random was Actini berries. Thankfully, it has an anti-fatigue effect. While making potions with Vescea bark and Actini berries, I also created potions to stimulate circulation and detoxify the body to gain experience.

Was it a good thing I challenged myself with a wide variety of materials?

By midday, I had reached level 4. And by midnight I had reached level 5.

In the light of lanterns and alcohol lamps, I picked up the ingredients for the cure. I had probably reached one of the highest, if not the highest, rank of concoction in the town.

I still feel uneasy, but there is not much time left.

I didn't get a single clue in "Mixing 3. How about now?

I look into the material. The image is the same as before, or rather, it has increased considerably. While assessing the torrent of the images, I look for something more unclear, a process that is more difficult to grasp. I found a number of them that looked like that. But because my "Mixing 5" negates them. It is not the answer I'm looking for now.

I wade through more, and – I find it. There is an image that is more ambiguous and extremely unclear than the others.

Is this it?

Simon's grand master's record flashed through my mind. The resemblance. Perhaps this is the cure for Ash Vomiting Disease created by the mage.

Finally, we got a handful of rays of light. But I cannot rejoice. As far as I know from Simon's memoirs. The Grand Master also saw this. And he failed. As long as I could see it, both he and I should have enough ranks for "Mixing". Why was the Grand Master unable to create it?

All the materials are available. Thanks to Nerio and the others, we had enough materials.

Let's give it a try. I turned my attention to Sacrio sake.

◇◇◇◇

I stared at the cloudy white liquid as it caught the morning sun.

Name: Potion of Weakness

Features: Milky white poison containing Kerisea venom.

Characteristics: Unknown

That was the cure I created.

Just a poison. I remember the material I found in the guild. The materials are the same as the alchemists of eighty years ago. How did this happen? What is different? It's not like that. Why does it "appear" to me that this is the result?

I think back over the last few days. The many failures and successes.

As I carefully ruminated over them, I came up with one possibility.

"Don't tell me there's a difficulty level for each …… portion?"

I think, there were a few materials that failed to "Appraise" correct for me.

I didn't mind because the quality wasn't that low, but those might have been materials or potions with a high degree of difficulty.

Even if you could try, whether you would succeed or not is another matter.

If that were the case, then the cure for ash-eating disease would be an extraordinarily high level of difficulty. The grandmaster must have had much more experience as an alchemist than I did. Still, I couldn't reach it. If "One-Handed Sword 3" fought each other, the veteran would win. Skill is only a guide.

I looked at the table in a daze.

Was it all for nothing?

There is no delicate discernment in the skills that have been built in a rush. Even Simon and his friends, who live as alchemists for decades, have not succeeded yet. Was it a wasted effort for me to try?

I hear the sound of walking down the hallway, accompanied by birds chirping.

The servants seem to have already woken up.

It's just the same old routine.

But day by day, some of us live on thin ice.

I haven't seen Valerie for a long time. I wonder how much it has worsened.

It must be hard. It's hard for Valerie and Markant. I want to help her, but the time limit is almost up. If I had at least a month, I could gather more than a few years of knowledge and experience. I might be able to help them. No, a few years is not enough. We need more. At least if the mage had left a few more clues, I might have been able to reach Simon and the others.

I shake my head.

No, it's not over yet. We need to change our minds. No matter how much experience I accumulate with the time I have left, I wouldn't match the grandmaster. If the difficulty is the reason for failure, then I don't have the right to try in the first place. So, let's throw out that possibility.

Let's assume there is another cause.

Then what is it?

I asked myself, I stared at the poison, but I could not find the answer.

I improved my concoction skills, probed, and checked again and again. I decided that this was the path to follow, and I took the challenge. What should we review? The choices are too vast, and there is no accumulation to discard them.

Inevitably, the thought of inexperience came to mind.

It's no good. My thoughts are boiling over. Let's cool down.

I stand up and relax my stiff body.

How many hours ago was it that I took a break? Is it still too early for breakfast? Let's wash my faces.

I go out into the hallway and look back into the room.

He glanced at the poison pills on the table, and when he was about to close the door, he stopped his hand.

My heart beats with a thud.

What is it?

It is not a reaction of skill. It was a very vague, indecipherable intuition.

I return to my room and look down at the table.

I still can't see anything. I have seen everything I could see in both the "Appraisal" and the "Mixing". Still, I continue to stare.

Is it my imagination, or is it just that I can't give up?

No, not this guy, huh? It's this guy, but it's not. It's something else. Am I missing something? Missed it? Have you forgotten?

Then I touch a soft, shapeless piece of thought.

Suddenly, it took on an outline and clicked into place.

"Oh, ……!"

No, wait, does that make sense!

I lay out the ingredients of the cure on the table and carefully use "Appraisal" at them one by one.

Yes, no doubt. There is no blue/purple present in this one!

No matter how you trace any materials, they do not turn blue and purple. The residue left by the mage was blue-purple. It is hard to imagine that the ingredients have deteriorated. The potions produced by the better alchemists do not deteriorate. Moreover, the investigation must have started immediately after the treatment. There is no time for deterioration. The cure is blue-purple, which is its original color.

Then, why did my potion turn out this color?

The poison in front of me is milky white. I immediately look at one of the materials.

Is this the color of Majumag? Is the material different?

I don't think so. If I can't see it well enough, my senses are equal to intuition, but the material is still correct. Above all, the alchemists of eighty years ago also arrived here.

I thought he was going to use it as it is. What–is there some special processing required? I poured the Majumag powder into the alchemical solution and heated it. I didn't boil it before. Now I let it stand for a while at a high temperature. But there is no change. I put it down, put the new powder into the solution, and heat it again. This time, I'm stirring it at a low temperature. Still no change.

In desperation, I took out the wire mesh. In the center of the netting was a layer of Fizka stone. It was like cement or plaster. I put Majumag powder on it and heated it directly. Still no luck.

I took down the net and pulled it aside.

That was the time. I found a change in the powder that had collapsed due to the vibration.

I hurriedly fumbled with the powder with a glass rod.

"Color, huh?"

Only a few grains. Blue-purple mixed with milky white powder.

Should I have put it directly on the fire? But why only these grains?

I carefully select and use"Appraisal" at the blue-purple grains.

The result was "Heat-treated Majumag Powder". The other grains had (excess) appended to it. Because of the excessive heating. But recalling the process, I did not do anything special, just seared properly. There was no way to know the temperature in the first place. I tried several times with small quantities, but mostly failed, and only rarely succeeded in heating a few grains.

This was getting nowhere.

I headed for the kitchen with the Majumag powder.Read lat𝙚st chapters at nov(𝒆)lbin.com Only

In the kitchen, the head chef and his staff were busily working.

They looked frightened at the sight of me, but I hurriedly put on a smile to make up for it.

"Alter-sama. What have you done?"

A glance at the hearth. The fire is still burning.

"Let me borrow it for a minute."

Without waiting for a reply, I poured the powder into a frying pan and plunged it into the stove.

At the same time, I invoked "Appraisal" and stared at it. The people around him were buzzing, but he ignored them all and devoured it. It was the first time for me to use "Appraisal" on a changing object. It takes a lot of concentration.

I sit down near the flames and bathed my whole body in the heat. Sweat dripped down my body without stopping.

The moment arrives when the cook approaches me to say something.

All at once, the milky powder turns to blue-purple. And in an instant, it returns to its original color.

My "Appraisal" and "Mixing" clearly confirm this.

This is it, now that's the material I need.

And how delicate the timing is for that. The temperature is uneven depending on where the fire hits. Moreover, if it's overheated, it will instantly become "excessive" and unusable. This is not the skill of an alchemist. Rather–

"Alter, what are you doing?"

I looked up to see my mother, Henriette.

"Good morning, Mother. I want to talk to you slowly, but I am sorry. I have an urgent matter to attend to right now."

I said no to my mother, "Someone call Roland!" I ordered him to do so.

Roland immediately came to the dining room. And when he saw me, he shook his head in disgust.

"Oh, you've become more and more like a hermit. So, what can I do for you so early in the morning?"

"Look at this."

There is a few pieces of heat-treated Majumag on the table.

"These are grains of jewelry–?"

"It's a Majumag."

‘This? Why such it has that color ……"

"Listen carefully. This Majumag is the true material. But to do this, it needs to be heated very delicately. If it is overheated, it is no longer useful."

"In a heated ……–"

"Oh, the blacksmith. I needed their help to process this guy. Collect the Majumag that you distributed immediately and deliver it to a skilled blacksmith. When it's finished, redistribute it, and don't forget my share."

"Yes, sir!"

Roland runs off.

I stop to go back to my room.

"Mother, Please let me do what I want for a while longer."

My mother gently hugged me.

Her sweet scent enveloped me. I almost fell asleep.

"I know you are doing your best for your friend. But don't push yourself too hard."

"Yes, of course."

I bowed to my mother, apologized to the cooks for making a scene, and returned to my room.

I stirred up the leftover drowsy potion in one gulp.

I haven't slept, but I'm not overworked. Probably.