NOVEL WEB Chapter 33: Gathering Materials
The air in the upscale restaurant hummed with the clink of glasses and the low murmur of apprentice mages, their robes shimmering faintly under the glow of enchanted chandeliers. Edwyn leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, a cocky grin tugging at his lips. His dark hair fell in a slightly messy wave, framing eyes that sparkled with a mix of mischief and confidence. He wore his apprentice robes like they were a tailored leather jacket, exuding a carefree swagger that made him stand out in the prim crowd. To him, this fancy joint was just another stage to play on.
Edwyn's grin widened, his fingers drumming lazily on the table. "Specialization? Nah, man, I'm just dabbling. Alchemy's got some kick to it, but who says I'm locked in? Plenty of time to shake things up later." His tone was light, almost flippant, but there was a spark in his eyes that hinted at something deeper, a fire that burned hotter than his casual demeanor let on.
Kevan raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the modesty. "Dabbling, huh? Sounds like you're already brewing something big. Got any Arcane Artifacts in the works? I've got some spare alchemical materials, prime stuff. I'll cut you a deal, cheaper than the commercial zone." His voice carried a salesman's charm, but his sharp gaze betrayed his real intent: sizing Edwyn up.
Edwyn chuckled, "Artifacts? Pfft, I'm not that deep in the game yet, Kev. Gotta crawl before you ball, you know?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his grin turning sly. "But I'll keep you in mind. Never know when I might need to spice up my potion game with some of your goods."
Kevan's smile tightened, a flicker of shrewdness passing through his eyes. He knew alchemy wasn't for the faint of heart, or the light of purse. The school demanded serious coin for resources, and the library fees alone could bleed an apprentice dry. Most alchemists scraped by, their combat skills too weak to score high-paying missions, trapping them in a cycle of poverty and slow progress. Yet here was Edwyn, lounging like he owned the place, treating a girl to dinner at a restaurant where a single plate cost more than most apprentices' monthly budgets. Either Edwyn was loaded, or he was one hell of a talent. Or both.
A rumor bubbled up in Kevan's mind, one he'd overheard in the alchemy labs: Master Joron, the Alchemy Faction's resident genius, was scouting for a new formal apprentice, an Elementary one. Kevan's eyes narrowed slightly. Could Edwyn be the one?
"Kev, you're scheming something, aren't you?" Edwyn teased, catching the shift in Kevan's expression. "Those gears in your head are spinning loud enough to wake a dragon."
Kevan laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged. Just thinking you're someone worth knowing, Edwyn. Here's my card, visit me if you need materials. My prices will beat anything in the commercial zone, guaranteed." He slid a sleek, rune-etched card across the table, his smile warm but his heart racing. If Edwyn was Joron's pick, cozying up to him now could pay off big later.
Edwyn twirled the card between his fingers like a poker chip, his grin never faltering. "Smooth move, Kev. I like a guy who knows how to hustle. I'll give you a shout if I'm in the market." He tucked the card into his robe's inner pocket with a flourish, like he was sheathing a blade.
"Ed, food's here!" Elia's voice cut through the chatter, bright and impatient. She was seated at their table, her blonde hair catching the chandelier light, a faint flush on her cheeks from the arcane beast meat they'd ordered.
Edwyn shot Kevan a mock-apologetic shrug. "Duty calls, man. Catch you later." He sauntered back to his table, his stride loose and confident, like he was walking into a fight he knew he'd win.
Kevan watched him go, swirling the red wine in his glass. The crimson liquid caught the light, mirroring the calculating spark in his eyes. Beside him, Griffith, a hulking apprentice who'd been silent until now, leaned forward, his voice low and gravelly. "Kevan, that guy's strong."
Kevan quirked an eyebrow, pouring himself another glass. "Stronger than you, big guy?"
Griffith's jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to Edwyn's retreating figure. "Don't know. But my gut's telling me he's dangerous. Like a storm waiting to break."
Kevan's wrist twitched, a single drop of wine spilling onto the tablecloth. He stared at the stain for a moment, then smirked. "Dangerous, huh? That's perfect." He raised his glass, downing it in one swift gulp. "He's not our enemy. Hell, maybe one day he'll be our friend. And I'd rather be buddies with a storm than get caught in its path."
…
The rune-pig ribs hit the table with a sizzle, their charred edges glistening under the restaurant's warm light. The aroma was intoxicating, savory, smoky, with a faint metallic tang that screamed arcane. Edwyn dug in with gusto, his teeth tearing into the meat like a man possessed. The beast's muscle fibers were tough yet tender, bursting with flavor as they ground between his teeth. Each bite sent a jolt of warmth through his body, like a shot of liquid fire coursing through his veins. His cells hummed with energy, as if the meat itself was laced with raw mana.
"Hot damn," Edwyn said, leaning back and wiping his brow with a towel the waiter discreetly provided. "This arcane beast meat? Worth every freakin' credit. It's like eating a thunderstorm."
Elia, across the table, was equally enthralled, her cheeks flushed and glistening with a light sheen of sweat. She tore into her own portion, her enthusiasm almost matching Edwyn's. A droplet of sweat slid down her slender neck, vanishing beneath the collar of her shirt. Edwyn's eyes lingered for a moment, caught off guard. He'd always seen her as the scrappy girl from their training days, but now, under the soft glow of the chandeliers, she looked… different.
He quickly averted his gaze, a faint heat creeping up his neck. "Man, what a waste not dragging that python carcass back last time, huh?" he said, his voice a little too loud, covering his embarrassment with a grin. "Could've had a feast like this."
Elia laughed, oblivious to his moment of fluster. "Right? Next time, we're not leaving anything behind. I want a trophy for every beast we take down."
"Deal," Edwyn said, flashing his signature smirk. "We'll need a bigger dorm to store all the loot."
The bill came to 210 academy credits, and Edwyn reached for his pouch, but Elia slapped his hand away playfully. "We're splitting this, hotshot. I'm not your damsel in distress."
Edwyn raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. "Fine, fine, you win, princess. But next time, I'm treating. Gotta keep my rep as a big spender."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was warm. "You're ridiculous, Ed."
…
Back in his dorm, Edwyn sprawled on his bed, trying to meditate as usual. But his mind was a mess. Every time he closed his eyes, Elia's face floated up, those flushed cheeks, that spark in her eyes, the way her laugh lit up the room. "Get a grip, man," he muttered, running a hand through his red hair. "She's just Elia. Your buddy. Not some… dame."
Frustrated, he rolled off the bed and grabbed the half-finished alchemy book from his desk. The worn leather cover felt like an old friend, grounding him. He flipped it open, muttering to himself, "In books lie golden mansions; in books, beauty like jade. Knowledge is a mage's real mistress, right?" His tone was sarcastic, but his eyes were sharp as he dove into the pages, chasing the focus that kept slipping away.
…
A year later, Edwyn's Spiritforce had climbed to 22, a solid leap for an Elementary Apprentice, though his physique remained lean and wiry, more suited to quick moves than brute strength. He'd burned through Master Joron's reading list, devouring tomes on alchemy that would've made most apprentices' heads spin. But reading was only half the battle. Alchemy was a hands-on art, and now it was time to get his hands dirty.
He counted his Mana Stones, his fingers brushing against the smooth, glowing orbs. "Twenty left. Not exactly rolling in it, but it'll do for some potion-brewing action." His grin was all confidence, but inside, he felt the pressure. Potions were a different beast from gear-crafting. One wrong move, a second too long, a miscalibrated flame, and the whole brew could turn to sludge. Joron's lectures had been brutal but brilliant, and when the master's expertise fell short, he'd sent Edwyn to paid courses with other instructors, each one chipping away at his Mana Stone stash.
"Was this formula written by a drunk alchemist?" Edwyn groaned, transcribing the Focus Oil recipe. The instructions were maddeningly vague, "heat gently until essence binds", like that meant anything. He tossed the quill down, leaning back in his chair. "This is gonna be a pain in the ass."
The commercial zone buzzed with life, a chaotic swirl of apprentice mages in robes of every color, their voices a cacophony of haggling and banter. It was like a magical bazaar, stalls brimming with glowing herbs, shimmering vials, and rune-carved tools. Edwyn strutted through the crowd, his robe flapping dramatically behind him, drawing more than a few glances.
His first stop was Agnes' alchemy shop, a cramped, cozy hole-in-the-wall stacked with jars of strange, pulsating ingredients. Agnes, a senior apprentice with a sharp tongue and a knack for brewing, leaned on the counter, rubbing her temples like she was nursing a hangover.
"Yo, Agnes, you look like you just fought a wyrm and lost," Edwyn said, flashing a grin as he leaned against the counter.
"Shut it, Ed," she shot back, but her lips twitched with a smile. "Long night in the lab. What do you want?"
"Potion materials. Gotta start brewing, and I'm not about to get ripped off by some shady vendor." He crossed his arms, his tone playful but his eyes sharp. "You know the good spots, right?"
Agnes sighed, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face, revealing a patch of burn-like scarring on her neck. "High-quality stuff? Hightower Consortium. They'll bleed you dry, but it's the best. Practicing? Seven Luminaries Consortium. Cheaper, but it's a gamble. Some of their stuff's decent, some's trash."
Edwyn nodded, filing it away. "Thanks, boss. You're a lifesaver."
Agnes yawned, then gave him a sly look. "Low on Mana Stones? I could spot you a loan. No interest for six months, five percent a year after."
Edwyn's brow shot up. "You trying to play sugar mama, Agnes?" He laughed, waving her off. "I'm good for now. Got a few stones left to burn."
"Suit yourself, kid." She swept her hair over her shoulder, the scar peeking out again.
Edwyn's grin faded slightly. "Hold up. That scar, what's the deal? You okay?"
Agnes shrugged, her tone dismissive. "Lab accident. Happens when you're messing with volatile materials. No big deal." She paused, then smirked. "Speaking of volatile, I'm running low on that Red Quicksilver you refined for me. Wanna make some extra stones? Hundred-stones."
Edwyn whistled, leaning back. "Tempting, but I'm about to dive into potion land. Might be too busy to play Quicksilver chef." He winked. "But if I'm desperate, you'll be my first call."
"No pressure," Agnes said, waving him off. "Go hit up Seven Luminaries. And don't blow yourself up, yeah?"
Edwyn chuckled, throwing her a mock salute. "No promises, but I'll try to keep the explosions to a minimum."