< Chapter 10: The Beginner Alchemist’s Healing Potion (1) >

“Rejected. Next.”

“Rodrigo Tilles of Epheria Port. 10 boxes.”

“Quality?”

“Upper-intermediate.”

“Rejected. Next.”

“Gnious Workshop of Olvia Village. 30 boxes.”

“Quality?”

“Intermediate.”

“Rejected.”

The man scribbling with a pen slowly raised his head and looked at his superior.

“Officer, it’s just a healing potion. Aren’t you being too strict?”

At his words, the middle-aged woman who had been examining samples of healing potions on the table turned her sharp, narrow eyes toward him.

“Clerk Belez. Are you saying you don’t trust my judgment?”

Realizing his words had been interpreted that way, the man panicked.

“N-no! That’s not what I meant, Officer. I just thought the evaluation seemed harsher than usual. At this rate, meeting the supply quota might be a bit—”

“It can’t be helped. The day before yesterday, Lieutenant Dantress of the Eastern Expeditionary Force came to visit. He made a special request.”

“Uh… the expeditionary force? For healing potions?”

“If you understand, just keep writing.”

An elegant crimson silk dress.

Yet no excessive ornaments or decorations—only plain, restrained simplicity.

Her hair was tied up, streaked with many strands of gray, giving her an impression older than her actual age.

Vaila Carrion, the Calpheon Imperial Supply Officer, shifted her sharp gaze back to the samples on the table.

Belez let out a short sigh and continued his report.

“Otan Jibre of Calpheon. 20 boxes. Upper grade.”

“Upper grade? This? Haa… those inspectors are out of their minds. Rejected.”

“Doschutz Workshop of Trent Village. 30 boxes. Intermediate.”

“Rejected.”

“Rotem of Florin Village. 150 boxes. Top… grade…?”

Belez double-checked the document, bringing it closer to his face, unsure if he had read it correctly.

At the same time, Vaila’s brow subtly furrowed.

“Wait. Top grade? 150 boxes? Are you sure?”

“Yes… that’s what the inspectors’ initial report says…”

“Give it to me.”

Vaila snatched the report from Belez and examined it herself.

After staring intently at it for a while, she returned the document and walked toward the samples labeled ‘Rotem.’

“….”

She reached out and gently sent mana into the glass bottle.

In response, the crimson liquid inside began to glow faintly, as if reacting to her power.

Vaila nodded slightly and pulled something from her inner pocket.

A dagger.

“Eek! O-Officer?!”

Belez screamed in panic, unable to comprehend what she was doing.

Vaila raised the dagger and brought it down onto the back of her own left hand.

It wasn’t a mere scratch—it nearly pierced through.

Dark red blood flowed out, but she did not even flinch.

Calmly, she picked up the glass bottle and poured half of the faintly glowing crimson liquid over the wound.

“….”

Then, something astonishing happened.

The bleeding stopped.

The torn flesh began to close as if stitched by invisible thread, and soon a red scab formed.

It was as if weeks of natural healing had been compressed into mere seconds.

“…Clerk.”

“Yes, y-yes?!”

“Has there ever been a procurement application from Florin Village before?”

“Uh… as far as I know, no.”

“The name Rotem?”

“This is his first imperial submission.”

“Florin is a Shai village, correct? Did he come personally?”

“No. According to records, he submitted through a representative.”

“Hm.”

While speaking, Vaila kept her eyes on her healed hand.

The wound was gone, and even the pain had disappeared.

“Clerk Belez.”

“Yes, Officer.”

“Arrange a meeting with that representative. And investigate this Rotem of Florin in detail.”

Meanwhile

“Hey! Rotem!”

“I’m coming out.”

Whenever something happened while Rotem was working in the cave, Juno would come to call him.

It had become routine, so he calmly replied and walked toward the entrance.

Under the approval of Village Chief Valentine, Rotem and Juno had recruited villagers to assist in producing healing potions.

Thanks to their help, they barely managed to meet production deadlines.

However, Rotem had no money to pay them, so Juno had stepped in to handle that part.

This was exactly the mistake novice producers made when failing imperial submissions.

The moment they failed bidding, they would be buried in debt.

Rotem feared this outcome, but he had no choice.

To compensate, he had recently been “washing” herbs and mushrooms to raise extra funds even after completing production.

“What is it?”

Juno’s expression made him tense immediately.

“A person from Calpheon came. They say they have questions about your imperial submission.”

“Calpheon? Who?”

“How would I know? The village chief is talking to them, but it doesn’t look pleasant. Just go.”

“…Alright.”

Rotem glanced back at the dark cave as if reluctant to leave.

Juno muttered something annoyed, but Rotem was looking at something unseen by her.

Normally, he would have told the Black Shadow to continue working, but the situation felt different.

He signaled his intent.

The black spirit smiled broadly and followed behind the giant.

“Are you Rotem?”

“….”

Rotem was surprised for two reasons.

First, the woman who was supposedly talking with the village chief was already inside his workshop.

Second, although her attire and posture suggested nobility, her tone was interrogative and sharp.

“…Yes. I am Rotem. Who are you?”

The middle-aged woman stood and approached him.

Despite the difference in size between a human and a giant, Rotem felt strangely pressured.

“I am Vaila Carrion, Calpheon Imperial Supply Officer.”

“Ah, yes. Hello.”

They shook hands—Rotem offering his left hand as she did.

He briefly noticed a small scar on her hand but dismissed it.

“I’d like to speak with you alone.”

Vaila’s tone was as if she were the owner of the workshop.

“Wait, what?”

Juno glared at her, offended not at exclusion, but at her cold attitude.

Rotem calmly placed a large hand in front of Juno to stop her and nodded to Vaila.

Eventually, Juno left, grumbling under her breath.

“So, what brings you here?”

Rotem tried to offer tea out of habit, but decided against it.

“I came to ask about the healing potions you intend to supply.”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“What process did you use to make them?”

“The standard method distributed by the Cian Trading Company.”

“What ingredients?”

Rotem answered without hesitation.

“Evening Herb, purified water, birch sap, and sky mushrooms.”

“Where were the materials collected?”

“That I cannot disclose.”

Vaila looked up from her notes at his face.

Though her expression was calm, her gaze was heavy.

“Why not?”

“Trade secret.”

“Hm… a trade secret.”

She closed her notebook and touched the scar on her hand.

“I’ve learned there is little record of you before Florin.”

“Yes. I came from an orphanage.”

“An orphanage. A convenient explanation for a blank past.”

Rotem sighed, now clearly annoyed.

“Can you please tell me why you’re really here? If you’re just going to probe me, I’ll go back to work—”

“I came because your healing potion may have a significant impact on national security.”

“…Excuse me?”

Rotem’s thoughts froze.

National security?

Over a healing potion?

“In other words,” Vaila continued, opening her notebook again.

“Depending on your explanation, I may have to report you on suspicion of espionage.”