The SSS class adventurer is a divine cleric

"NO." Neal cut him off with military precision.

Even Derek, who had overheard from the bar, leaned in and grunted, "Get a professional. If I wake up to a garden full of screaming plants again, I'll throw all three of you into the pigpen behind the barn."

They had fed Derek their new dish in disguise saying it was something they bought from the market and seeing that there were no more harmful side effects Derek was quite surprised and amazed by the trio.

And a few days earlier Neal and Kaelen had experimented on an array which mutated the flowers in the tavern to shout nonstop. "Kaelen! Kaelen! Kaelen!" like a parrot. The flowers had picked that up from Derek shouting at Kaelen when he realised Kaelen was tempering with arrays inside the tavern.

"Ok we need to know how to grow this plant if we want to make it our signature dish."

They all agreed and so the decision was made.

Find. A. Herbalist.

The town marketplace was alive with noise, mana-laced vendors, enchanted livestock, and two cabbage merchants arguing over whose cabbage screamed louder when sliced.

Just then Kaelen got a glimpse of good bottles of old wine. "Gods," Kaelen murmured. "I forgot what town life felt like."

They wove through stalls, ignoring hawkers selling dubious mana tonics and "instant legendary class scrolls." Eventually, tucked behind a dusty potion vendor and a man selling phoenix feathers that were clearly just dyed chicken plumes.

Then at last they found it

"Granny Wida's Greenfinger Remedies & Mana Soil Consultation"**

The door creaked ominously. A wind chime above the frame was shaped like a mandrake baby.

Neal stopped.

"Something tells me this woman's robbed people before."

Kaelen grinned. "Nah come on don't judge a book by the cover. This is the right one, my instinct is screaming "GOOD!" believe me."

They opened the door and stepped inside the Herbalist's Shack.

Granny Wida was… suspiciously old. Suspiciously blind. And suspiciously aware of exactly why they were there.

"Wyrmleaf, hmm?" she said, rubbing her mossy green scarf. "Hard to grow. Dangerous. Fatal. Blessed. Cursed. And delicious if sautéed properly."

The trio exchanged glances.

"That's… what we thought," Alira offered cautiously.

"Fools! It's not about the plant. It's about the mana-tension alignment. You need the roots to breathe in calibrated pulses of mana. Not just any mana, sun-soaked tier-two purified laylines."

Kaelen blinked. "What does that mean?"

She leaned in dramatically. "It means you water it at dawn and insult it at dusk."

"…Huh?"

"For balance!"

Neal rubbed his temples. "Look, we just want a basic guide. How do we make sure it grows without murdering us?"

Granny Wida narrowed her eyes and slowly, dramatically, extended a wrinkled palm.

"20,000 XP."

Kaelen reeled. "WHAT?! That's like, five mid grade potions and a dungeon run"

"Knowledge," she rasped, "is expensive. You want the Wyrmleaf, don't you? Or would you like to have a new generation of talking weeds again?"

Kaelen looked horrified. "They remembered my name…" then a pause. "Wait, how did you know?"

My child I've got eyes everywhere.

Kaelen, totally convinced, nudged at Neal to pay up.

Neal handed over the XP begrudgingly with a sigh of a man who had lost a piece of his soul.

The 20K XP for an info Scroll

When they finally stepped out of the shack, they opened the parchment scroll and read the contents.

Wyrmleaf Cultivation:

1. Plant in high-mana soil.

2. Water regularly.

3. Let it sunbathe.

4. Will grow fine as long as mana remains stable.

5. Do not harvest during full moons. Causes mild hallucinations and certain death after two hours.

6. Not consumable.

7. Mainly used in making poisons.

Kaelen's eyes twitched.

"That's it? THAT'S the whole thing?! We knew all this already!"

Neal's voice was flat. "She conned us."

Alira just patted Kaelen on the shoulder and whispered, "You're the one who said she had 'wisdom-eyes.'"

Kaelen tore the scroll in half, screamed into the sky, and vowed revenge upon every granny from that day forward.

Back at Johny's Garden

Armed with 20,000 XP less and absolutely no new information, the trio finally planted their treasured Wyrmleaf.

The mana array hummed gently. The soil was warm and fertile. The leaves glowed faint green.

They stood proudly over their new garden.

"I still think yelling at it would've worked," Kaelen mumbled.

"It still might," Neal replied, half serious.

Alira chuckled. "You guys are really stupid. Idiots."

Behind them, Johny peeked out from the window of his tiny home and whispered to his sister, "They're insane."

Mita just giggled and waved at the trio.

The Ashen Boar Tavern had always drawn a curious crowd, wandering adventurers, mercenaries, traveling mages, drunkards with two coppers(XP) to their name, and occasionally retired heroes with too many stories and not enough teeth.

But no one expected a platinum-plated noble carriage to pull up to their creaky tavern gates.

The wheels gleamed with enchanted gold rims. The coachmen wore matching mana-stitched uniforms. Two elite knights stepped out first, scanning the street with mechanical precision.

And then emerged a man in silver-blue robes, a cane of polished amethyst in one hand and a stiff upper lip in the other.

Baron Haultin Dreynor of Stormcrest.

A minor noble, yes. But a noble nonetheless. One who had likely never touched mud without crying for five minutes afterward.

And right behind him, a girl, elegant, pale, her black hair tied in a crown braid and an expression that looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.

They stepped inside the Tavern like they owned it.

Derek blinked once at the noble's entrance.

Neal, drying mugs, did not blink at all.

Alira paused mid-wipe on a table, one brow raised.

And Kaelen?

Kaelen straightened his apron and walked forward like he owned the place.

"Welcome," he said with that boyish smirk that oozed both charm and chaos. "To the finest tavern west of the Frahein mountain spine. Home of the heavenly cuisine."

The noble's nose wrinkled. "This… shack?"

Kaelen didn't miss a beat. "Sir, what it lacks in walls, it makes up for in divine culinary artistry."

Dreynor cleared his throat. "My sources tell me you serve a… dish. One that causes hallucinations, warmth of the soul, and a spiritual journey through the layers of existence."

"You mean the Wyrmleaf Special." Kaelen gestured grandly. "Seasoned, seared, purified, and blessed by yours truly."

"And how much?" the noble asked cautiously.

Kaelen didn't hesitate.

"5,000 XP per plate."