The reason the Fire Elemental Essence was considered valuable was that Arya already had a plan.
During the seven days of the Mana Turbulence, she had barely left her home. Since then, she had been meticulously planning to establish an herb field within her Shelter, cultivating rare or hard-to-obtain herbs, such as the flame bell. That way, even if Natasha were gone one day, she wouldn't run out of resources.
What was this called? Self-sufficiency. Arya could not rely on a single person for her resources. Even with only one Fire Elemental Essence, enough for eight to ten plants, it was sufficient to start.
After placing the essence into her storage room, Arya filtered the two batches of +30 Magic Potion she had brewed today, poured them into a wooden barrel to nourish her medicine pouch and dagger, and returned to her second-floor bedroom wearing Gang Siqiu. She picked up Mineralogy and continued reading, a copy of Basic Herbalism lying beside her.
Comparing it to her original Herbalism book, Arya noted that the content and fonts were identical. It made her wonder if the books were printed in a centralized Blue Star printing factory, for only a uniform factory process could produce such perfect copies, still carrying the scent of fresh ink. She had suspected as much before.
Moreover, considering that Karim's world and Blue Star had some form of agreement, communication between worlds wasn't impossible.
In the following days, Arya maintained her routine. Every day, she brewed five batches of potions and then "bombed" an area to keep her combat skills sharp, ready for any unexpected threat.
On this particular day, after finishing her daily bombing practice, Arya, with her medicine pouch swinging at her side, made her way back to her Shelter. Just as she approached, she spotted three suspicious men lingering beneath the large tree next to her home. Could they be trying to rob her? Weren't Shelters inaccessible without the owner's permission?
Curious, Arya quietly landed on a branch above them.
"Are you sure there's really a Shelter here?" one of them asked.
"Knife Brother, it's true. I saw someone fly up there yesterday. Look over there—the big wooden balcony. I'm certain it's a Level 3 Shelter."
"Idiot! You said someone flew up, so how are we supposed to get up?"
"We can climb the vines. I've calculated—they reach the broken branch section. We can use grappling hooks on the balcony railing."
"Alright, Skinny. If she comes back, attack immediately. Kill her, and this Shelter—and everything inside—will be ours."
Arya listened closely, understanding their plan. While Shelters are normally inaccessible, killing the owner allows one to claim it and its resources. Many had nearly fallen victim to this tactic, prompting some to pool resources in groups for safety. Level 3 Shelters, like Arya's, were rare and naturally drew the greedy.
Peering down, she recognized two of the men—they were the thieves who had once barged into her near-death room. She remembered the scar-faced man who had spat on her. Ignoring the path to heaven, they had walked straight into hell.
With a small smirk, Arya pulled out an explosion potion. Today, she would also gain combat experience. She released her index finger and thumb, letting the potion fly.
Boom!
"Ah… my leg! My leg is broken!"
"What happened…?"
Screams erupted below as two men suffered serious injuries and one had minor damage. Arya quietly observed, thinking: this is quite powerful.
With most people having a maximum of 10 Stamina points, equating to around 100 Health Points, one potion dealing 30 damage plus another 10 sustained damage effectively cut them in half. By contrast, the legendary blast-resistant Sludge Monster had high regeneration; even half its body destroyed would recover in seconds. The monster's home-field advantage in the swamp gave it extra resilience.
Satisfied, Arya followed up with a flame potion. She didn't rush into close combat—advantage alone didn't justify risking herself. Suspended on the branch, she watched as fire licked the ground, the heat brushing against her slightly scorched hands.
As the screaming faded, Arya carefully peeked down again. Before her lay three charred corpses. She showed neither joy nor sorrow. She had seen death before—first during her early days, second when thrown into the slums—so corpses no longer startled her. Memories of nightmares lingered, of seeing her own decaying body in dimly lit rooms on filthy beds.
She floated down, picking up the discarded crossbow of the tall, skinny man. Corpses decompose within two or three days at normal temperatures; monsters would likely devour them by nightfall.
Without another glance at the grisly scene, Arya returned to her Shelter. Despite spending the entire day brewing potions, her work wasn't over. Today, she would attempt to craft the bullets ordered by Roy.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Jackssparrow