Chapter Thirty: The Art of Refinement

Hughes carried his purchases, intending to return to his dormitory.

"Hey! Hughes, long time no see."

Hearing the familiar voice, Hughes turned around to find Amy greeting him.

"Senior Amy, it's been a while!"

"Indeed!" Amy smiled, waving at Hughes.

"So, how's your studies going lately?" As she spoke, Amy noticed the items in Hughes' hands.

"Did you buy some apparatus?"

"Wow! Hughes, have you already advanced to a First-Level Apprentice? It's only been half a month!"

"You’re so talented! I took a whole month to reach First-Level Apprentice…"

"I just managed to make it by luck, Senior Amy!" Hughes felt a little embarrassed by Amy’s dramatic tone.

"Has the teacher started you on advanced knowledge already?"

"Yes, I chose Alchemy, so I came to buy some supplies."

After chatting for a while, Hughes and Amy bid each other farewell.

Hughes took his things back to the dormitory, set them down, and sat in contemplation before the two alchemical formulae he had acquired.

"Chip, can you analyze the processes for me?"

"Beep! Task established. Analyzing and simulating Stamina Potion and Hemostatic Potion formulas. Estimated time: 34 days."

"A month? That’s acceptable," Hughes noted, glancing at the chip’s calculated timeframe.

"In a month, I’ll focus on training my meditation technique. If I can reach Second-Level Apprentice, and with the potions to extract magic stones, I’ll have more options when choosing spells."

Hughes resolved inwardly to become a Second-Level Apprentice within the next month.

The following month passed with Hughes shuttling daily between Master Matt’s laboratory, the classrooms, the library, and his dormitory—a routine that, though repetitive, felt deeply fulfilling.

He consulted Master Matt about a few perplexing concepts, but despite being his mentor, Master Matt charged a fee in magic stones. Hughes understood—among wizards, fair exchange and profit came first.

"Beep! Potion formula analysis and simulation complete."

Hughes, meditating in his dorm, opened his eyes at the chip’s announcement.

"It’s finally done!" For a month, he’d watched the progress daily—now it was finished.

"Tomorrow, I can try brewing potions myself!"

As usual, Hughes attended Master Matt’s lab in the morning, then the classrooms in the afternoon, returning to the dormitory afterward. Over the past month, he had almost finished reading every free book on the first floor of the library, recording them all with the chip’s scanning function, whether useful or not.

Back in his dorm, Hughes locked the door, reflecting that he barely knew anyone at the academy and wouldn’t be disturbed. He set out his newly bought apparatus on the desk, ready to attempt potion-making.

"Let’s start with the Stamina Potion."

Hughes arranged his tools and took out the raw materials for the potion.

"A few crimson berries gave off a faint metallic scent, accompanied by a small heap of black powder, a segment of plant root, and a flower resembling a daisy."

"Chip! Activate assistance," Hughes commanded, preparing to begin.

"Beep! Potion simulation assistance activated."

"Chip, can you estimate my success rate?"

"Beep! Estimated probability of successful Stamina Potion brewing: 26.71%."

"That high?" Hughes was surprised. A one-in-four chance was already impressive—brewing was the hardest part of alchemy, where the slightest error could ruin everything. That was why skilled alchemists were so rare.

Success rates could only be improved through plenty of experience, so Hughes’s starting probability was an unexpected boon.

"Alright, let’s begin."

Lines of instruction appeared before his eyes, and it felt as if he’d brewed Stamina Potions countless times.

He took out a crimson berry—the main ingredient—and the chip’s processing method surfaced in his mind.

He placed the berry in a small bowl and used a pestle to mash the pulp thoroughly. Afterward, he filtered the pulp and juice through a sieve, pouring the red juice into a glass beaker.

With a snap of his fingers, he lit a candle beneath the beaker, which was held above the flame by a stand.

As the candleflame licked the glass, the juice began to bubble, releasing an intense metallic aroma that quickly filled the small room.

Hughes wrinkled his nose, bothered by the cramped space.

He stirred the heating juice, watching it thicken, then carefully added the black powder in proportion.

He sprinkled the powder in bit by bit, ensuring it mixed evenly.

"Pop!"

A faint sound and a burnt smell arose from the beaker.

"Beep! Host’s ingredient ratio was incorrect—brewing failed."

"That’s it? Failed already? My one-in-four chance doesn’t feel real—I didn’t even get past the first step," Hughes muttered, looking helplessly at the burnt beaker.

"Never mind, it’s just the start. Take it slow," he reassured himself, discarding the failed batch and preparing anew.

Repeating the previous steps, Hughes reheated the crimson juice.

This time, as he added the black powder, he was more cautious. Seeing no adverse reaction, he let his spiritual energy flow through the glass rod into the mixture.

Slowly stirring, he watched the liquid darken from bright red to a deeper hue.

"Pop!"

Once again, the burnt smell returned.

"Beep! Host’s spiritual energy was unstable, causing brewing failure."

"Tsk!"

Hughes sighed at the chip’s verdict, but there was nothing for it but to start over.

Taking a deep breath, he resumed the process—filtering, heating, adding ingredients, stirring—carefully repeating each step. This time, his spiritual energy remained steady.

When the first two ingredients finally merged, Hughes let out a small breath of relief, knowing the hardest parts were yet to come.

He poured the blend into a prepared test tube, then took up the sage root, ready to process it.

Purifying the sage root went smoothly; no mishaps occurred.

He set aside the resulting powder, then reheated the previous mixture and began to combine it with the sage powder.

"Pop!"

Failure again.

"Chip, analyze the cause!"

"Sage root not sufficiently purified—too many impurities."

"Let’s do it again!"

This time, Hughes had the chip thoroughly scan his purification process, correcting any missteps.

Finally.

Seeing the juice and sage powder fully integrate, a rare smile broke across Hughes’s face.

"At last, the final step," he murmured, regaining his composure.

Staring at the bubbling liquid, Hughes knew that adding the chamomile petals and achieving complete fusion would mean success.

He plucked a few petals from the chamomile flower, adding them carefully to the beaker, extra cautious—he’d read countless accounts of alchemists failing at this very stage.

As the petals entered the liquid, Hughes stirred gently, guiding his spiritual energy into the beaker.

"Sotocara," he whispered in Arlenian, the syllables slipping from his lips.

The liquid inside the beaker began to boil violently.

"Looks like it’s another failure," Hughes thought, predicting the outcome as he watched the reaction unfold.