Putting aside her lingering "memory" of Natasha, Arya lifted her medicine bag and held it in both hands.
The incident with the Healing Potions had given her a new idea—one that refused to leave her thoughts.
Healing Potions worked whether taken internally or applied externally. The effect was different, but the essence was the same. That meant the principle itself could be universal.
So… what about Magic Potions?
The medicine bag and the moonstone dagger were both magical items. They had been damaged and weakened, but they were not dead artifacts. They could still be repaired. The problem was the cost.
Maintaining them using her own magic power was laughable.
She only had a few dozen points of magic at a time. Trying to use that to restore items that were clearly once high-grade treasures was like trying to put out a forest fire with a cup of water.
It was impossible.
But what if she used Magic Potions instead?
That thought made her straighten up.
She had just brewed six hundred bottles of potions that day. Of those, two hundred bottles of +50 Magic Potions had originally been set aside for Natasha. The rest—+30 Magic Potions—had simply been intended for sale.
Why not test her theory using them?
The more she thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed.
She quickly walked over to the two large pots of potions that had not yet been filtered and bottled. If these two pots were completed, they would produce enough Magic Potion to restore nearly 12,000 magic points in total.
That amount of magic was perfect for an experiment.
She began filtering the two pots methodically, her hands steady and practiced. Once she finished, she poured the purified liquid into an empty crucible.
Then, without hesitation, she dropped the moonstone dagger into the potion and let it sink to the bottom.
"Let's see what happens," she muttered softly.
With the dagger soaking, she moved to another workstation and picked up the mortar and pestle. One by one, she dropped dried centipedes into the bowl and began grinding.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The rhythmic sound filled the workshop.
At the same time, her eyes flicked back and forth between her work and the open book resting on the Magic Desk. She wasn't just working—she was studying.
She fell into a rare state of focus.
Time passed quietly.
The next morning, Arya woke early and, as usual, checked the regional chat channel.
Nothing major had happened.
A few people mentioned that strong winds had swept through during the night, but there were no disasters, no deaths, and no large-scale events.
Satisfied, she walked straight toward the crucible.
She stopped.
The potion, which should have been a clear, light blue, had turned completely white.
That was not normal.
Even unsealed, potions could not evaporate to that extent overnight.
Her heart began to beat faster.
She reached inside, pulled out the dagger, and carefully wiped it clean with a towel. Then she placed it on the small appraisal screen.
The display lit up.
[Moonstone Dagger (C)]
[Effect: Damage +50, Strength +31]
[Description: A dagger made from moonstone, likely crafted by a master artisan. It is incredibly sharp. Due to prolonged magic loss, its damage and bonuses have been significantly reduced.]
[Description 2: Slowly recovering due to absorbing a small amount of magic power.]
Arya stared at the screen in disbelief.
Then she burst out laughing.
"It worked! It actually worked! I did it!"
Her laughter echoed loudly through the workshop.
The strength stat had increased by one point—and, more importantly, the second description had appeared.
It was recovering.
That alone proved her theory was correct.
But what thrilled her even more was the medicine bag.
Space-type items were ridiculously rare.
She couldn't even imagine how large its internal storage space might become if it fully recovered.
However, one line of text sobered her excitement slightly.
Twelve thousand magic points were described only as "a small amount."
That meant the original grade of this dagger had been extremely high.
Still laughing to herself, Arya picked up the dagger, kissed it twice, blew gently on the blade, and polished it with a towel like she was caring for a priceless treasure.
Now that she understood how to restore both items, there was no reason to hesitate.
She got straight to work.
Before brewing again, she emptied the medicine bag and dropped it into a large wooden barrel alongside the dagger.
Inside that barrel, she poured in the +50 Magic Potions that had originally been reserved for Natasha.
Since Natasha had gone missing before, Arya had assumed they would just be sold off. Now, they had found a far better use.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound of magical liquid slowly soaking into the items continued throughout the morning.
At around two in the afternoon, the Magic Desk chimed with a soft notification.
Friend chat.
Arya immediately put down the stone stirring rod and floated out of the alchemy workshop.
She opened her friends list.
The message was from Natasha.
Natasha: "Do you have an antidote?"
Arya froze for a brief second.
She hadn't expected that.
Arya: "You're actually not dead?"
She was honestly surprised.
Natasha: "People who die get removed from the Magic Desk roster. If you don't see my name one day, then I'm really dead."
Arya: "That's a pretty good joke. You actually made me laugh."
Though she had no idea what Natasha had experienced, one thing was clear from the real-time avatar.
Her condition was not good.
Her face was pale, and her lips had almost no color.
Arya typed again.
Arya: "What kind of antidote do you need?"
Natasha: "Fire-element antidote."
Arya frowned slightly.
Arya: "I don't have any ready-made."
Natasha: "Can you make it?"
Arya: "Eight hours. You decide the overtime pay."
Natasha: "Okay."
There was no bargaining.
If it was already past two in the afternoon, then eight hours would take them to about ten at night.
Without another word, Natasha immediately started a trade.
Items appeared on Arya's screen.
Inside were pieces of obsidian she needed, several rare-looking herbs, and a sealed supply chest.
Natasha: "I think the things inside the chest will be useful to you. Consider it overtime pay this time."
Arya looked at the message and then opened the supply chest.
Something large and pale was squeezed inside.
She reached in and carefully pulled it out.
At first glance, it looked like a lump of raw flesh.
But as she examined it more closely, she realized it wasn't meat.
It was… a worm.
The creature looked like a fleshy tumor. It had no bones, no visible eyes, and no mouth. It was about twenty centimeters long and weighed over a pound.
Short, thick, fleshy legs lined both sides of its abdomen, supporting its heavy body.
Arya frowned deeply and activated the appraisal screen.
[Volcanic Worm]
[Racial Talent: ■ ■ ■ ■]
[Skills: ■ ■ ■ ■, ■ ■ ■]
[Description: A worm that mutated from living in high-temperature areas. Its corpse is an alchemist's favorite. Do not let its lack of mouth and eyes fool you. Its mental attacks are extremely strong. Not recommended for survivors below Level 10 to interact with.]
Arya's expression changed.
"…So it's actually a mental-type demon beast."
It was her first time seeing one like this.
But that sentence caught her attention.
"An alchemist's favorite."
What did that mean?
She put the worm back into the supply chest and closed the lid.
Arya: "You were poisoned by this thing?"
Natasha: "No. It was another one. A higher-level one. If I hadn't shoved it into the lava and vaporized it, I probably wouldn't have made it back."
Arya's fingers paused.
That sounded bad.
Arya: "That's troublesome. Without the source of the poison, I can only make you an apprentice-level antidote to try."
She was being honest.
There were countless types of poison.
Without a sample from the source, she could only make a universal antidote. And those were unreliable.
Half effective.
Half useless.
Arya: "It's basically a 50/50 chance."
On the other side of the screen, Natasha replied after a moment.
Natasha: "Just do your best."
Arya couldn't tell if that was resignation or stubborn hope.
But she accepted it.
The trade was already complete.
She stood up, moved the supply chest containing the Volcanic Worm to a safe corner, and walked back into the alchemy workshop.
The potion she had been brewing earlier was almost finished.
She looked at it… then turned off the heat without hesitation and poured it out.
A small loss meant nothing.
She now had the corpse of a demon beast that was above Level 10.
That alone was priceless.
As for what "an alchemist's favorite" truly meant…
She would figure that out when she had more time.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Jackssparrow