Alex guessed that Goodwin was probably the real name of horned basilisk. Shaking his head firmly, he replied, "No.If the Goodwin you mean is horned basilisk, I've already killed him."
The wizard in the painting sneered, clearly not believing him.
"Is that so?
Don't try playing Goodwin with me. This isn't the first time you've tried to trick us, poor fool."
Alex ignored the jab and kept looking around. The layout reminded him of the silver wand headquarters, a central hall with doors on the left, middle, and right sides.
Then he turned back to the painting and asked, "You must have been here a long time. What's behind those doors?
Can you give me a quick rundown?"
The wizard's face twisted into a scowl.
"Not greeting me first, Goodwin?
Is your memory really that bad? My name is Beaumont Beery.
Remember? The one you betrayed so shamelessly in the silver wand.
Have you really forgotten that?"
Alex was surprised.
"Beaumont Beery?
That herbalist? You were part of the silver wand?"
"I see you want to play dumb," Beaumont said, clearly disgusted. "Don't pretend you don't know me. You're nothing but a shameless man with a beastly face."
Alex asked without much ceremony, "So, are you going to tell me about these rooms? If not, I'll just look around on my own."
He didn't bother with extra politeness just because Beaumont was a famous figure; after all, this was just a portrait, not the actual person. Beaumont snorted coldly but agreed.
"Fine, I'll keep you company if you want. I'm bored hanging around here anyway."
He then glanced at the door to Alex's left.
"That's your refining room.
That's where you brew that forbidden potion."
Then he looked to the door on the right.
"That's your storage room.
But I don't think there's much left in there now. Didn't you move most of the materials to that broken organization?
How dare you steal the silver wand's name like that, it's a disgrace."
"To the club!"
Beaumont's tone was sharp.
Then, turning to the door next to him, he said pointedly, "That's your private library. Besides this hall where you sit and listen to us insult you, it's the place you spend the most time."
Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Wait, you mean Horned Basilisk often listens to you yelling at him here? Is that guy a coward?"
"You're the coward!" Beaumont shot back fiercely.
"I know what you're thinking. At first, you just wanted to get our forgiveness. But once you realized we'd never forgive you, you started to enjoy the bitterness, taking pleasure in curses from the dead to remind yourself that you're still alive. You're beyond saving, Goodwin!"
Amused, Alex tapped his chin.
"So, all the portraits in this hall are former members of the silver wand?"
Then he realized these paintings probably didn't serve much purpose for him.
The reason Horned Basilisk kept them was likely what Beaumont said: living alone is boring, so having someone, or something, to talk to helps.
Shaking his head, Alex decided not to delve into the twisted mind of a psychopath.
Instead, he turned and headed for the door on the left.
He noticed the second basement floor lacked any extra protective magic, so he twisted the handle and easily opened it.
The room inside had a somewhat strange layout.
In the center of the room stood a large, altar-like platform, stretching at least several meters across.
Fresh traces of blood still stained its surface, and the air was thick with the sharp, metallic scent of blood.
"Is this where horned basilisk brews the elixir?" Alex wondered aloud, glancing around the room.
Surprisingly, the furnishings were quite simple.
Aside from the towering platform, there were only two potion-making tables nearby, each with a potion resting beside them.
A few cabinets held various potion ingredients, but that was all.
Curious, Alex approached one of the potion tables and examined it closely.
Spread out before him was a notebook, its pages filled with notes.
Picking it up, he couldn't help but mutter in disbelief, "This is the recipe for the elixir? Why would they leave it lying around so carelessly?"
Indeed, the notebook contained the complete formula for brewing the "Rebirth Draught."
What the club's wardings had struggled so hard to obtain was treated like a simple cookbook here in horned basilisk's lair.
Nearby, a portrait of Beaumont Beery caught Alex's eye.
Beery, a pioneer in herbalism and even featured on a Chocolate Frog card, was known for cataloging countless magical plants.
Though he was credited with discovering the properties of gill grass, Alex recalled that Eladora Ketterridge had actually uncovered its uses nearly a century earlier.
After a bit of digging, Alex finally uncovered the truth behind the so-called "Rebirth Draught."
Making rebirth draught isn't as simple as just brewing a potion; it actually involves two main steps: an alchemy ritual and the actual potion-making.
The key part is a ritual called "Life-making," which was detailed in some old notes.
During this ritual, a living creature is placed on an alchemy circle inscribed with -making spells.
Then, by activating the formation array, the life force is drawn out from the creature.
This extracted energy, rich in vitality, is referred to as "unstable life arcana" in the notes.
This arcana is then used as the main ingredient, combined with other materials, to create the rebirth draught.
The notes also mentioned a crucial warning: the life arcana taken using this rough formation array carries some toxicity.
While the resulting potion can indeed extend life, it comes with serious side effects.
Long-term use can cause mutations, like the weakness seen in snake molting, and other troubling issues.
This happens because the magic and life energy in all magical creatures are influenced by emotions and willpower.
These mental influences aren't cleared out during the life-making ritual; instead, they contaminate the unstable life arcana, creating a harmful byproduct called "mind toxin."
Alex also discovered that humans can be used as raw materials for the life-making ritual, but since they have complex emotions and strong wills, they produce more of this mind toxin, resulting in a lower-quality life arcana.
This probably explains why Horned Basilisk never considered using wizards to make the medicine.
To Alex, the so-called Rebirth Draught seemed more like a half-finished product.
The original notes suggested that the creator wasn't satisfied with the potion's effectiveness and seemed disgusted by it.
But ironically, what the original maker saw as worthless became highly valuable to groups like horned basilisk and the warding of the Club.