Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

"How many times do I need to tell you that the Silverthorn leaves must be ground into a fine paste? Any remaining fiber can seriously compromise the stability of the final product!"

"Yes, sir," Rhea gritted out. She knew better than to complain by now, so she simply resumed grinding the stone pestle, doing her best to ignore her aching limbs.

She and Ogden worked together in silence for a while until he peered into her mortar and grunted in satisfaction. "That's alright. Now, add it to the potion."

Rhea blinked in surprise. He didn't often let her tackle the most challenging part of his personal recipes, and it was even rarer when they were fulfilling orders for their biggest clients—the Higgs & Squiggs trading company.

Still, she said nothing and followed his commands. Scraping the silverthorn paste into the bubbling cauldron nearly exhausted her strength, but her yearning for recognition from her master pushed her beyond her limits.

I swear if I don't get an END point for this…

When Ogden handed her the ladle, she made sure to keep her expression composed. The old man wasn't as strict as her grandmother, but he still didn't allow any distractions in his workshop.

"Seven clockwise, seven counterclockwise, and seven scrapes," she recited dutifully, knowing from experience that he would want her to explain what she was doing. "The base is a potent solvent in this state, so we need to ensure its stability. While it's not enough to prevent it from fully dissolving the silverthorn, if we don't induce equilibrium, it will be essentially worthless for human consumption." That was one of the fundamental principles of alchemy and one she found most challenging to fully integrate into her worldview.

Artificers constantly tinkered with their creations, adding more and more details until any further additions became counterproductive. They were only limited by their materials, the time allowed by the client, and their personal skills. In contrast, alchemists had to contend with much stricter laws. It was one of the main reasons why the two classes were viewed as opposites—and why Rhea had been sent here.

For the scion of the Elpen family to become an alchemist signaled that they had abandoned any hope of reclaiming their former position. It added another layer of security, one of the many measures her grandmother had taken to ensure she would survive to adulthood.

"I believe now it is time to introduce the scales, master."

Ogden examined the cauldron with a critical eye, always on the lookout for any sign of imperfection. In alchemy, there was no way to go back and fix a missed step. One could not leave a complex part unfinished to tackle the simpler ones. Everything had to be completed in a precise sequence, and if even the slightest detail was out of order, the entire process would become worthless—at least in Ogden's opinion.

In almost every other frontier town, they would be crying tears of gratitude to receive such a high-quality potion. Instead, they have to make do with mass-produced swill that can hardly stop any bleeding unless they're willing to spend their entire savings on a genuine Elixir. Or they're lucky enough to have an apothecary who passed level twenty.

With a grunt, the old man slowly introduced the wyvern scales—three, to be exact. It was an astonishing amount to use in a single potion, but Harrison Higgs seemed confident that the son of a wealthy nobleman in Alluria would pay more than ten times the cost of such an ingredient. He had seemingly suffered a serious magical blockage after attempting to follow the teachings of a fraud and was willing to shell out money to resolve the issue.

Back in Toneburg, anyone who fell for such a scam would have faced exile. Everyone was a snake, but at least that meant there were no weaknesses for the mountain tribes to exploit. It was a miserable, cold place, and I still miss it every day.

The wyvern scales sizzled as they made contact with the potion. Such was its potency that they lasted only through three stirs. By the fourth, they were gone, dissolved into a glowing green liquid.

"What do you make of that?" Ogden asked.

Rhea took a moment to consider her answer. She had trained herself to avoid her instinctive responses, which were never sufficiently comprehensive. Although this was frustrating, by now, she had a solid grasp of what the old man wanted to hear.

"The solvent seems to have been neutralized with the addition of the scales, indicating that the Silverthorn has served its purpose. I don't detect any residue, and even [Alchemical Savant] shows no alerts. I believe we successfully brewed the [Greater Potion of Regeneration]." A ding interrupted her words, and Rhea allowed herself a smile now that the meticulous process was complete. "And the system appears to concur with me."

That was the nail in the coffin, and Ogden stepped back, giving her a curt nod. "Well, who am I to gainsay the system?" he replied snarkily, as he always did when this argument came up—he didn't like using the system as an all-knowing entity and said it bred sloppiness. "I have something that requires my attention, but I believe I can trust you not to mess up the last part. Wait until it's fully cooled down, then bottle it in the crystal vials you cleaned earlier."

That was surprising, since Ogden never left until his potions were safely secured in a protected case. The fact that he was doing so now, with an order that would provide more than a year's worth of coin to the shop's coffers, meant that whatever was happening was significant.

"I will do my best," she replied, keeping her thoughts to herself. The last time she had questioned him, he had made her work as a scullery maid for a week. She wasn't about to give him more excuses.

Ogden left after one last long look that suggested retribution if anything went wrong, while Rhea stood by the cauldron until she heard the front door shut. Then, she waited an extra five minutes, just to be sure. The scaly old bastard had exceptionally sharp senses, and she wouldn't put it past him to have a way to monitor the shop, even while he was away.

Only then did she allow herself to take a seat, completely drained. "Orthmund's Glaive, he's such a pedantic old turtle."

It would take at least another hour for the brew to cool completely, and she couldn't leave until then, but she wasn't grinding Silverthorn anymore. That was something.

Well, at least I gained a level from this. He might be annoying and very difficult to get along with, but I doubt there's any other master alchemist who provides their apprentice with this much direct experience in Greater Brews. In fact, I'm willing to bet that only the fourth prince has it better than I do, and that's because his mother would have the Royal Alchemist's head if her precious son wasn't given every opportunity.

Pulling up the System window, Rhea allowed herself a grin of satisfaction. She was still far from her brother's level, not to mention her grandmother's, but compared to the level one runt she had been just over two years ago when she first arrived in this little backwater town, she was doing much better.

It was a fairly decent status. Rhea knew that some of the wealthier noble families could afford to provide their children with special classes, which granted them impressive Traits and Skills right from the start. She would have been dishonest if she said she wasn't regretful about having to abandon her family's path, but considering her circumstances, she had done well for herself.

All that training with [Mana Infusion] is paying off. I don't know anyone else with a "civilian" class who has mana as high as mine. Once I manage to surpass a hundred points, I'll finally be able to start learning spells outside the Alchemist build. Then we'll see if I'm really so limited.

At times, Rhea felt annoyed that Nick, the son of a minor knightly house that was barely old enough to be worth remembering and who didn't even have the benefit of a family tradition of casters to support him, had much greater combat potential than she did. After witnessing her brother fend off an ambush of assassins with only his self-forged equipment, she recognized that Artificers were far less limited than Alchemists in a fight, but she was counting on Ogden to uphold his part of the agreement.

I have to trust that Grandma's promise of terrible vengeance, should anything happen to me, is sufficient. She may not be in the kingdom anymore, but the words of a Prestige Class carry a different weight. Anyone would be foolhardy to think they can simply disregard them.

After waiting an hour, Rhea stood up and approached the cauldron. As expected, the potion had cooled into a green sludge. It wasn't particularly appetizing, but then again, they weren't being paid to brew a new beverage. "No, we are being paid to fix the idiotic mistakes of someone with too much money…"

She then proceeded to pour a ladleful into each of the crystal vials she had to cleanse that morning, stoppered them, and made sure they were properly sealed.

Just as she put the last one into the Cold Iron case they were lent for this occasion, Rhea felt the building shake.
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She looked up in confusion, trying to understand if the ceiling was about to collapse on her, but aside from a groan, the shop seemed stable. Nevertheless, she rushed to close the latch, not wanting to endure increasingly inventive and humiliating punishments if anything were to happen to the elixirs.

Once more, the house shook. This time, she was ready. Grabbing the case, she rushed to the basement, where the foundations would shield her from anything less than a direct assault from the Stormwalker.

This pattern went on for another ten minutes before it stopped, leaving the shop in a deathly stillness.

Rhea was too afraid to peek out at the upper floors, but she justified this by telling herself that she was simply following Ogden's orders in case something attacked the shop while he was away.

A few more minutes went by, and she heard the front door creak open. With her heart in her throat, Rhea braced herself to make her stand.

Is this how I go? Have the Ultimers finally become bold enough to attack even me? Damn, I knew I should've kept Grandma's stash with me.

Setting aside the case of potions, Rhea grasped her shirt and yanked it down forcefully. This exposed a worn undershirt and, more importantly, a purple amulet shaped like a teardrop. She pulled it off her head and held it out, waiting for the enemy to appear.

"Don't think I'm afraid of death! I am Rhea Elpen of the Toneburg Elpens, and I will take you all with me if I have to!" Even so, she hesitated to channel her mana into the amulet. Her grandmother had given her strict instructions to use it only in the direst of emergencies and, even then, to be ready to lose much.

Footsteps echoed from above as the basement door swung open. The stairs creaked, and someone made their way down.

With tears in her eyes, Rhea prepared to immolate herself.

"Girl, if you don't put that down, I will put you through a Class Change ceremony and make you a Maid once and for all!" A familiar, rough voice thundered, and Rhea nearly collapsed in relief.

Ogden entered the basement, and for once, she was entirely happy to see him. Then she noticed the splatters of blood on his clothes, and finally, her eyes trailed down to what he was holding in his hands.

It was a green head.