A bizarre potion?
Arya never expected that the item she had spent fifteen exhausting hours creating would be evaluated as "bizarre" on the small screen of the appraisal device.
What was that supposed to mean?
Were all the people who lived on the Karim Continent long ago actually bird-folk who could fly freely through the sky?
Arya grumbled in annoyance.
She had crafted this potion as a last-ditch contingency, something she intended to use only in the most desperate circumstances. And now her so-called trump card was being criticized right to her face by a cold mechanical appraisal? That was just infuriating.
Still… ten minutes of effectiveness was a bit short.
She stared at the enamel mug marked 013, then flipped through her notebook until she located the recipe with the matching number. Carefully, she copied it into a separate notebook dedicated to successful products.
With the recipe in hand, she could recreate this potion later using a meteorite crucible, which should extend its duration significantly. The thought brightened her mood.
Arya had been working for nearly twenty-seven or twenty-eight hours straight. Her body was tired to the point of trembling, but her mind felt unusually alert—almost exhilarated.
This was her first time successfully developing a potion from scratch. For a novice alchemist, it was a tremendous achievement, a milestone that made all the fatigue feel strangely worthwhile.
Since she didn't feel like sleeping, a bold idea suddenly popped into her head: if her intuition and "feel" were so sharp today, why not take advantage of this momentum and broaden her product line?
The more she thought about it, the more excited she became.
She began considering what kind of potion she should attempt next. First, it had to be something she didn't already have. That eliminated Mana, Life, and Attribute potions. Those categories were already covered.
It also needed to be something with guaranteed demand—preferably a product so valuable it could become her signature, her absolute flagship creation.
Her gaze drifted to her personal panel.
Her eyes paused on one word.
Talent.
She wasn't particularly dissatisfied with her own Talent, but logic told her she wasn't the only one who had awakened an E-rank ability. Judging from the world channel, A-rank and S-rank Talents were extremely rare.
And really—who wouldn't want their Talent to be stronger?
If a potion capable of enhancing Talent truly existed, people across the continent would surely offer precious materials in exchange. With a product like that, she would never have to worry about obtaining high-grade ingredients again.
Just imagining it made her heart race.
It would be incredible. Absolutely incredible. A direct fast-track to success.
Hands itching with excitement, Arya tried to figure out where she should begin her research.
How exactly did a Talent awaken?
She remembered that when she awakened her own Talent, a message appeared on the small screen. What was it again…?
She frowned, frustrated that her brain—foggy from over twenty hours of work—refused to recall details. She laid down, hands resting behind her head, staring at the glowing green runes carved across the ceiling.
"That's right… It said something about 'a reflection of the soul' and 'thinking about what one desires.'"
After several minutes of struggling to remember, the full message finally resurfaced in her mind.
A reflection of the soul. Thinking about what one desires.
Come to think of it, back then, she had desperately wished for easier mobility. That was why her Talent allowed her to reduce her body weight. Unfortunately, her desire at the time wasn't particularly strong—she had been half-dead from starvation and dehydration—so the Talent manifested only as an E-rank.
There was no evidence to fully support this theory, and she knew it was merely her own speculation, but it felt extremely plausible.
Her mental state back then had been chaotic. She wanted to live, but her body was collapsing. The instinct to survive clashed with the creeping presence of death, leaving her soul unstable.
If Talent manifested based on one's spirit and desires… then the quality of a Talent might reflect the strength, purity, and clarity of that desire at the moment of awakening.
To Arya, it made sense.
Talent was merely a polished, impressive term. Strip away the glamour and it was fundamentally just a form of magic born from desire. That would explain the existence of graded Talents—E-rank, D-rank, B-rank, all the way up.
Different grades simply represented different magnitudes of magical capability.
Thus, enhancing Talent could theoretically mean enhancing the level of magic.
If she applied alchemical principles to this idea… it suddenly didn't feel impossible at all.
With that realization, Arya immediately opened her chat interface.
Arya: "Are you there?"
Arya: "Are you awake?"
Arya: "I have a question for you."
Natasha had just finished replenishing Mana for the protective shield barrier and was feeling overwhelmingly sleepy. There were still more than twenty hours left before the Mana Tide ended. Initially, Natasha planned to tough it out with sheer willpower, pushing through with her enhanced mental strength.
But then Arya's messages popped up—three in a row, fast and insistent.
Natasha sighed, reluctantly placed her hands on the desk, and typed a reply.
Natasha: "What is it?"
Arya: "Is your Talent level A-rank or S-rank?"
Natasha blinked.
For a moment, she thought sleep deprivation was giving her hallucinations.
Talent was extremely personal—survivors rarely asked about it so directly. And she and Arya weren't even close partners, merely cooperating out of mutual convenience.
Besides, Arya was not the type to pry into others' private matters. Over the past month, Natasha had learned that Arya barely cared about other people at all, much less their feelings.
She rubbed her eyes and checked again. It really was Arya's ID.
Had Arya gone insane?
Before Natasha could type a response, a new message appeared.
Arya: "Sorry, I phrased that badly. What I meant was—when you use your Talent, do you experience any restrictions? Are you unable to fully unleash its power?"
Ah. That sounded more like the Arya she knew.
Natasha exhaled in relief.
Still, why was Arya asking about this? And in such a strangely systematic, almost scientific way?
It felt… professional. Very professional.
Natasha couldn't find a better word.
Natasha: "Why are you asking this?"
If she couldn't understand something, she preferred to ask directly. Arya would not be offended.
Arya: "I'm researching a topic. I need to ask someone like you—someone who uses their Talent in the most straightforward, unrestricted way."
Researching? Already?
Natasha knew Arya was an alchemist who devoured books and collected knowledge obsessively, but wasn't this progress a bit too fast? They had only been in this world for less than a month. Strictly speaking, it wouldn't even reach a full month until the Mana Tide ended.
Natasha felt a headache forming. Still, since Arya asked sincerely, she decided to answer sincerely.
Natasha: "I don't know what you're researching, but your guess is correct. And yes—the restrictions are quite significant."
Almost immediately, Arya replied:
Arya: "Explain in detail."
Her excitement practically leaked through the screen.
Natasha hesitated. She had the faint premonition that Arya was about to embark on something dangerous, ambitious, or downright unreasonable. But she also knew there was no stopping her once she decided to pursue a topic.
With a tired sigh, Natasha began typing.
And so began a conversation that would set in motion something far larger than either of them expected.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Jackssparrow