Dwarves and the Workshop (2)
After dinner by the campfire, with my companions gathered around watching curiously, I spoke up.
"I've got a question. I want to know the formulation info for a gray cure or suppressant."
Of course, it wasn't directed at my companions—it was for the small golem I'd put on hold during the meal.
Information on a gray cure or suppressant.
A bunch of thoughts were still swirling in my head, but this was the specific question I wanted from the golem first.
Because right now, the only precise, clear question I could ask was about the gray cure.
The broken ancient mana gauge? I'd swing by the workshop to get that fixed first.
And vague questions like "I want to completely solve the gray problem" would just get equally vague answers, obviously.
There was only one trace of Nasatya van Gregoryus, so I had no idea what to ask to get the answers I needed.
So if I wanted to ask something like that, better to gather more info and clues first.
"I recommend being more specific and precise. Or should I proceed with the truth and verity as is?"
"I'll list the ingredients we've tried mixing for a gray cure. Sunflower petals, mandrake root, bright red fruit full of life force, giant caribou horn shards, dried Circa mushrooms, water from the Spring of Purity, and..."
Following the golem's advice, I rattled off every ingredient we'd experimented with so far.
We'd tried damn near everything, but honestly, no clue if those were even getting us closer to the right mix.
Still, better to spill it all—even if it's useless—than say nothing.
"Hmm... that's the rundown of what we've mixed. And from clinical trials with the potions we made, the gray just slept for a few hours—no real cure or suppression effects."
"Thank you. Organizing the information now—please wait a moment."
"Got it."
As soon as I finished, the small golem started twitching and grinding—clunk-clunk, grind-grind—just like the massive one at the hotel.
But.
One minute passed, then five.
Even after ten minutes, it kept grinding away, so we naturally started chatting while waiting for its answer.
"Um... like I thought at the hotel, doesn't that look kinda creepy...?"
Eileen glanced at the grinding golem, then turned away like it scared her and spoke up.
"With all those ghost-story rules and monsters at that hotel, maybe the golem's part of the theme."
"Ah... yeah, that makes sense. But... it's still scary to me."
Maybe it was designed to make those eerie sounds and moves to fit the hotel's concept.
"Your food obsession scares me more."
"Hey-hey-hey. I'm a noble, you know."
"So?"
Plus, golems like this one—chatty and all—were rare as hell.
Golems were just crude statues cobbled from rocks, after all.
Mages' towers might use 'em as basic door guards, but nothing fancy.
Modern mages probably couldn't even make one like this.
The fact that it spoke fluently, queried info, and spouted "truth and verity" was straight-up bizarre.
Ignoring Eileen, who was pouting about being a noble and getting dissed, Horn picked up the thread.
"Hm. Didn't take that long for other folks' checkout questions. Guess gray-related stuff is tough."
"Yeah, probably no one asked about a gray cure."
"Takes a while, but it will answer."
True, it hadn't spent over ten minutes just organizing per question.
Answering everyone would've pushed the last guy's checkout to tomorrow.
Thinking that, I picked up the still-grinding golem for a peek.
"Hm, busted? Wanna give it a smack?"
"Aye, I'll hammer it. Rule of the world: smack broken shit to make it work."
Dwarves agreed—sometimes you gotta beat it into listening.
I held out the golem to hand it to Horn.
"Information organization complete. I will now provide the truth and verity regarding the gray cure or suppressant."
Right before Horn raised his hammer high, the golem's voice rang out.
"...Guess the golem doesn't like getting hit either."
"Too bad. See ya in ninety days then."
Anyway, we lowered our fists and hammer, focusing on the golem's words.
"First, there has never been a single case of complete gray cure from ancient times to now. Thus, no such thing as a gray cure exists. Complete cure via potion is deemed impossible."
"...".
Disappointing, but potions couldn't fully cure gray.
Probably gotta follow the Nasatya trail for that.
"However, cases of gray suppressants do remain. Potions with temporary suppression effects—from one month short-term to one year long-term."
"Good enough—explain that, please."
At least there were cases for suppressants, which Aberly was researching hard.
Refining those might lead to full suppression.
I pulled out my notebook and pen, jotting down as it explained.
"From your listed ingredients, exclude giant caribou horn shards and Spring of Purity water—they're useless for gray, only good for regular illnesses."
"Got it. Next."
Thankfully, our basic framework wasn't off.
"Need giant bear bile, desert spider eyes, and Ineuzen tree sap."
"Mm, and?"
Those were pricey but available on the market—lucky.
But.
"Shed skin from a dragon over 500 years old, and bark shard from the sacred World Tree in the elves' forest."
"...Hey. Hold up."
The rest spilling from the golem's mouth? Problematic, to put it mildly.
"Then mix in starlight bottled from the gorge where stars flow, and use as suppressant."
"...No way."
The golem listed stuff I had no clue how to get.
Dragon shed skin and World Tree bark were bad enough, but the star-flowing gorge? Advanced adventurers only.
Me, mid-rank; Asha, fresh registrant; non-adventurers Aberly, twins, Eileen, Horn. No way we could even peek in.
And it didn't stop there.
"Final ingredient varies by the gray's obsession: survival urge—use poison grass from Floy region; violence/murder urge—humid mold from desert underground; affection obsession—hallucinogenic Hallus mushroom; love/sexual obsession—Pisentia flower root."
"...".
Grateful for the detail, but making a gray suppressant was way harder than I'd thought.
I knew it'd be tough, but this tough? No.
"Boil suppressant over a day, cool, consume one standard vial's worth."
"No...".
"That concludes the truth, verity, and answer to your question. Next question possible in 90 days."
"How the hell do we get all that?"
"Next question in 90 days. Please ask again after 90 days."
The golem spat that final line and went dark—flick—like a powered-down machine.
"...".
And that wasn't even a question, you lunatic.
So.
The campfire crackled away, and we sat in stunned silence long after the golem finished.
"Haha... Hero slays the Demon King and brings world peace faster..."
No one argued with Aberly's half-joking toss-out.