Coincidence
Coincidence
I slowly read through the information of the newly crafted potion.
The more I read, the more a strange sense of regret lingered in a corner of my chest.
The options themselves were undoubtedly flawless.
A recovery amount of 1,000, pain suppression, and even wound regeneration that reconnects severed muscles.
But my gaze kept fixating on a single word embedded at the very beginning of the description.
"Dullard, huh...."
I scratched the back of my head.
Well, it's true that I'm still quite lacking in the alchemy field.
Recently, I've been hammering away at Orichalcum and focusing solely on smithing to prepare for the competition, so it's also true that I neglected potion-making.
Still, every time I saw that word 'dullard,' it somehow prodded at a corner of my mind.
"But then, in smithing, I'm not even at 'prodigy' yet, so what the hell do you have to make to reach 'genius' level?"
I just couldn't get a feel for it.
Do you have to pluck a star from the sky and forge it into an item to be called a genius?
I let out a hollow laugh, stretched lightly, and stepped out of the workshop.
The quantity of potions was by no means insufficient.
I had a habit of always preparing a generous surplus in case of emergencies.
Moreover, the main ingredient of this potion, Bitter Root Grass, was scattered so abundantly across the forest floor that you'd kick it with every step, so material supply wasn't an issue either.
On top of that, maybe thanks to my high dexterity and intelligence stats, every time I finished a batch, potions poured out almost as if they were being duplicated.
Confirming that a mountain of glass bottles sloshing with black liquid had piled up in a corner of my inventory made me feel considerably more at ease.
I filled a large box with the completed Epic-grade potions and headed to where the injured were gathered.
In a clearing on one side of the forest, the defenders who had just fought a fierce battle were sprawled out.
A few whose conditions were critical had apparently barely endured the pain of the poison by chewing on Bitter Root Grass.
They were gasping for rough breaths and slowly regaining stability.
But their wounds hadn't fully healed yet, and groans of pain leaked out from here and there.
I approached them, carrying the heavy potion box.
"Here, take these. It's a treatment that's very effective for healing wounds."
I inwardly thought they would brighten up and accept them gratefully.
Since they were people who had hovered between life and death moments ago, I naturally expected they would welcome a superior recovery potion with open arms.
But as if mercilessly shattering my expectations, the expressions of the beastmen were far from good.
They received the transparent glass bottles I handed over and deeply furrowed their brows.
Inside the glass bottles, pitch-black liquid sloshed around suspiciously.
From their perspective, it was medicine of a bizarre color they had never seen in their entire lives.
"Th-this... is it really a treatment?"
"Why is it this color? Isn't it poison?"
"No, the smell is weird too...."
The defenders began to murmur, gauging each other's reactions.
Among them, one particularly suspicious leopard beastman cautiously opened the lid of a glass bottle.
Pong!
Along with the sound of the lid opening, brown foam bubbled up from the mouth of the bottle.
It was the sound of carbonated bubbles popping.
But upon seeing that sound and the foam, the beastmen flinched back in horror.
"Eek! I-it's foaming!"
"This really looks like a dangerous drug!"
They carefully placed the potion I had given them on the ground as if it were a bomb.
And then they started slowly backing away.
One lion beastman cleared his throat awkwardly and made an excuse.
"Hrmm! The stronger a warrior is, the more he must overcome these trivial injuries on his own. I'm fine."
The bear beastman next to him hurriedly nodded his head and chimed in agreement.
"Th-that's right. I actually really like the taste of Bitter Root Grass. I don't particularly need any other medicine."
Having said that, even though he had been writhing in the pain of the poison just moments before, he forcibly picked up a piece of Bitter Root Grass strewn on the ground and began to chew it noisily, crunching away.
Watching his face quickly flush bright red, I let out a hollow laugh.
In an instant, the people around me parted like the miracle of Moses.
The only one left standing alone was Romanike, the tiger beastman.
Romanike too had fought fiercely against the remnants in the southern forest, leaving minor cuts and tears all over his shoulders and arms.
He was putting pressure on his bleeding forearm to stop the blood, staring intently at the black potion in my hand.
His thick eyebrows twitched gravely.
But Romanike soon let out a short sigh and reached out his hand toward me.
That was because he had seen with his own two eyes the things I had done for the village and the martial strength I used to defeat the intruders.
Above all, he likely couldn't bring himself to disregard my sincerity in working so hard to make this treatment.
"I'll accept it gratefully."
Romanike squeezed his eyes tightly shut and took the glass bottle I offered.
He wore the solemn expression of someone about to drink poison, then promptly tipped the whole bottle into his mouth.
The moment the first mouthful passed his throat.
"......!"
Romanike's two eyes flashed open.
His large hand hesitated for a moment, then soon began to gulp down the black liquid inside the glass bottle noisily.
As if he were a person finding an oasis in a desert, he downed the potion in one shot.
His thick Adam's apple bobbed up and down without rest.
Taking the empty bottle from his lips, Romanike let out a rough breath.
Kkeu-eo-eok!
An incredibly refreshing and thunderous burp erupted from his mouth.
Hearing that sound, the corner of my mouth slightly lifted.
I was quite satisfied.
Because the thing I had paid special attention to when modifying the recipe this time was precisely that carbonated sensation of refreshment.
"Haa...."
As if unable to believe it, Romanike wiped the foam from his lips with his sleeve.
And then he looked down at his arm.
He could see the wounds on his forearm, which had been bleeding and torn just moments ago, healing at a noticeably rapid pace.
The gaping muscles and skin were being covered smoothly with new flesh as if there had never been a wound there.
Romanike's jaw dropped.
"H-how can this be...?!"
His voice trembled.
Free from pain, his fatigue even completely washed away by the refreshing feeling, he turned his arms this way and that, unable to hide his astonishment.
The eyes of the other defenders, who had been watching Romanike's dramatic reaction, began to waver strangely.
The bear beastman who had been reluctantly chewing Bitter Root Grass earlier sidled over and picked up the potion bottle he had placed on the ground.
"W-well... seeing Romanike perfectly fine like that, it doesn't seem to be poison...."
He sniffed at it, then cautiously took a sip.
"Oh...?"
The bear beastman's round ears perked straight up.
He blinked his eyes, savoring the intense sweetness and the sharp, popping stimulation lingering in his mouth.
And then, without hesitation, he downed the rest of the potion in one go.
"This is actually delicious?!"
No sooner had his exclamation fallen than the other beastmen began clamoring to rush toward the potion box.
One by one, they opened the lids and drank down the black liquid.
"Khuu! It stings my throat, but it's incredibly refreshing!"
"My wounds are all healed! There's not even a scar!"
"I've never tasted anything this amazing before!"
Instead of groans, refreshing burps and exclamations erupted continuously from everywhere.
The uniquely addictive sweetness of the cola flavor and the popping sensation of carbonation.
On top of that, the overwhelming healing effect that perfectly erased wounds without the pain of Bitter Root Grass.
The effects and taste spread among the beastmen as rapidly as a terrifying plague.
Even those who had distrusted the potion and were slowly backing away just moments ago were now, without exception, crowding in front of me, holding out empty bottles.
"Hey there, human! Could I get just one more bottle?!"
"I feel like my wounds haven't fully healed yet either, give me just one more!"
Looking at the potion box that had emptied in the blink of an eye, I was so dumbfounded that I let out a hollow laugh.
Leaving the completely empty potion box behind, I leisurely moved my steps toward the center of the village.
Actually, I had intended to continue helping distribute potions to the wounded beastmen.
But Romanike and the other defenders jumped up and dissuaded me.
"Si-woo, you've already helped us enough. From the battle to the wound treatment, haven't you solved everything yourself? Please, let us handle at least this much on our own."
Romanike patted my shoulder and said in a voice full of sincerity.
The other beastmen standing by his side also continuously nodded their heads and bowed deeply toward me.
"That's right! There's no need for our benefactor to personally handle such dirty work! Please, rest a bit!"
At their firm insistence, I ultimately had no choice but to shrug my shoulders and back off.
It wasn't that I was tired, but there was no reason to stubbornly refuse their goodwill.
The outskirts of the village were, literally, a brutal battlefield where blood had been spilled moments ago.
Broken Geumgangmok trees, the thick stench of blood, and the remnants of dark purple miasma still seemed to linger at the tip of my nose.
But after walking for a bit, the center of the village was a completely different world from the horrific scenery of the outskirts.
Warm sunlight poured down pleasantly onto the cozy houses built between giant tree roots and the round tents.
The clear singing of birds from somewhere softly filled the silence of the forest.
It was an extremely peaceful and tranquil everyday scene, as if asking what had ever happened outside the forest.
Feeling the sunlight touching my cheek, I just walked and walked, letting my feet carry me wherever they pleased without any destination.
But even though my body was resting, my head was whirring with complications from reality's problems.
"Haa...."
I stopped walking, looked up at the sky, and let out a short sigh.
That was because the crafting requests that would be waiting for me the moment I returned to Earth came to mind.
"I wish an Engraving Stone or something would just fall right out of the sky."
I clicked my tongue and muttered a dejected monologue to myself.
The only way to escape that tiresome swamp of Custom Production was the Engraving Stone, of which there wasn't even a hair to be seen no matter how thoroughly I searched the exchange.
While I was grumbling internally like that, the bright, laughing voices of children came from somewhere.
I absentmindedly turned my head towards the source of the sound.
In the large, open clearing at the center of the village, young beastman children were gathered in a group, playing energetically.
Next to them, slightly older beastmen, their animal ears and tails fluttering, were standing at a distance from each other and tossing something back and forth with whooshing sounds.
I settled down under the shade of a large tree.
I rested my chin in my hand and blankly watched them play.
What they were tossing through the air looked at a glance to be a rough, grayish stone about the size of a fist.
"So here they... don't have toys, so they play catch with rocks?"
No matter how sturdy beastmen are, playing ball with rocks—I thought they were really a wild species.
At the heavy friction sound heard every time they threw the stone, I let out a breezy laugh.
It was while I was spectating like that and lost in other thoughts.
One of the kids seemed to have misjudged their strength, and one of the stones they were throwing deviated significantly from its trajectory.
The stone drew a curve through the air and flew precisely toward my face as I sat with my chin resting in my hand.
Hwik!
Reflexively, I reached out my hand and snatched the stone that had flown right to the tip of my nose.
The texture I felt in my palm was quite hefty, and the surface was unusually smooth.
"Here, here you...."
I raised my arm to throw the stone back to the kids.
But at that very moment I was about to release the stone, a system window quietly appeared at the edge of my vision.
I blinked my eyes hard, thinking I had seen something wrong.
But the blue hologram overlaid on the stone in my hand was much too clear.
[Engraving Stone]
Grade: Epic
[A mysterious mineral naturally formed over a long time, imbued with the earth's magic power. If this stone is used as a catalyst in the crafting process of equipment or objects, or injected into a completed item, a powerful binding force activates.]
"......."
I couldn't breathe.
Doubting my own two eyes, I stared piercingly at the grayish lump of stone resting on my palm.
This rock was the very Engraving Stone I had so desperately searched for?
That legendary, unicorn-like material, of which there wasn't even a trace no matter how many tens of thousands of listings I searched on the exchange, was a toy that beastman kids were using to play catch on the dirt ground?
My mind momentarily shut down.
"Ahjussi! Give us back our ball!"
A beastman child who had been running from afar pointed at the stone in my hand and whined.
But to my ears, the child's voice sounded only faint and distant.
At my sudden and violent movement, the beastman child who had been pestering me to return the stone flinched in surprise and stepped backward.
I screamed out toward the child with a desperate and urgent voice, almost like a yell.
"Wh-where on earth did you get this?!"