Rising Prosperity

Inside the workshop, dozens of sheets of paper were scattered across the table, filled with dense notes, underlines, and scribbled corrections.

Rows of test tubes lined the workbench, their liquids displaying all kinds of unusual colors, some even shifting hues continuously, as if they were alive.

Night had fallen long ago, but Robb was still working.

His black hair was messy from long hours hunched over his experiments. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead under the dim glow of the magic crystal lamp.

"No... still not right…"

Frustrated, Robb tossed his notebook onto the table. A few drops of ink splashed onto his sleeve, but he didn't even notice.

He rubbed his temples hard, trying to ease the stabbing pain behind his eyes.

This was his third sleepless night.

He'd tried over a dozen new formulas, adjusted countless ingredient ratios, and even risked using some rare and dangerous materials, only to discover fatal flaws during the theoretical modeling phase.

Every promising combination collapsed at some stage, like an intricate house of cards that always crumbled just before completion.

"Why can't I find the right balance?"

He stood and paced the cramped lab, brow tightly furrowed.

The improved bloodline activation potion needed to satisfy three conditions at once:

High activity,

Directional bloodline enhancement,

And stability against aberration.

These three requirements contradicted one another, like an impossible "pick two out of three" puzzle. Improving one always seemed to worsen the other two.

"Boost activity, and directionality becomes unstable; increase stability, and the activity drops…"

Sighing, he walked to the corner and picked up a violin, a gift from Talisa, celebrating his certification as a professional potion maker.

Though music wasn't recorded as a skill by the system like other supernatural arts, Robb found that playing the violin helped soothe his anxiety.

Thanks to his Dual Souls, which enhanced his insight and learning, he'd progressed in music theory and practice far faster than most.

He rested the violin on his shoulder, closed his eyes, and began playing a gentle melody.

The soft tones of bow meeting string echoed through the quiet night. The tune was simple, but carried emotion.

Its calming melody seemed to hold a quiet power, one that gradually stilled the agitation in his mind.

"Well, the piece is nice enough, but my technique's still amateur at best…"

Robb smiled at himself, setting the violin down.

Still, it worked. He felt calmer, and his thoughts clearer.

He looked at the failed samples on the workbench, each one a symbol of an attempt, and a failure.

Some were too mild, lacking the potency to activate a bloodline, like trying to light wet wood with a candle.

Others were too aggressive, with aberration risks so high they were basically suicidal.

And some were decently stable, but lacked directional effect, merely amplifying existing weak traits rather than awakening ancient, pure bloodlines.

Taking a deep breath, Robb forced himself to calm down.

"Maybe I need to think from a different angle…"

He closed his eyes, regulating his breathing as his heartbeat slowed and his muscles gradually relaxed.

After a few deep breaths, he decided to set the issue aside and focus on other tasks around the workshop.

"Sitting here will only make things worse. A change of focus might spark some inspiration."

He spoke to himself, reasoning his way out of frustration.

Lately, business had been good, though Talisa hadn't visited in person.

It seemed her promise to stop by was just polite talk. Instead, she sent Luna regularly to collect orders and continued referring new clients.

Several Intermediate and High Apprentices had come by her recommendation. Although they'd heard of Robb's rising reputation, his young age made them skeptical of his actual experience.

Still, under Talisa's endorsement, they agreed to buy some potions for trial.

If the potions proved effective, the workshop's reputation would surely rise further.

But that also meant more orders, and Robb was finding it hard to keep up on his own.

Until now, he mostly relied on Andrey, but his friend had no talent for potion-making and could only help with menial tasks. What he really needed was a skilled assistant, and urgently.

Robb picked up an order sheet from the floor and frowned at the deadline, only three days left.

If he had a professional assistant, he could skip many redundant prep steps, at the very least, he wouldn't be running himself into a heart attack every week.

"The dryad… the one with a special sensitivity to plants would be perfect for my alchemy workshop."

He remembered the creature he'd seen at the Blake's Exotic Exchange. A glint of decision flickered in his eyes.

"I should be able to afford it now."

He cleaned up the lab, carefully labeling and storing the failed samples, perhaps they'd inspire something in the future.

After changing into a tidy robe, he fastened a pouch of magic stone shards to his belt.

His silver pocket watch rested inside his inner breast pocket, ticking quietly like a gentle reminder of how precious time was.

Before leaving, he checked the order book.

Three urgent orders needed to be completed in three days, especially Talisa's batch, which required materials to be pre-processed ahead of time.

"I really do need help," he muttered, locking up the workshop and heading quickly toward the marketplace, mind already made up.

The weather in the Black Mist Forest was as gloomy as ever. A faint mist drifted along the ground, like transparent serpents slithering through the streets.

Passing the school cafeteria, Robb noticed several Elementary Apprentices lined up for food, their expressions blank and weary.

They were hunched over, their eyes hollow, as if their souls had been sucked out, leaving only bodies moving on instinct.

Having barely survived the trial phase, they now faced another round of elimination. Their eyes brimmed with fear and uncertainty about the future.

Robb sighed inwardly. A few months ago, he had stood in that exact same line, just as anxious, just as lost.

"Life really is unpredictable…"

He quickened his pace, unwilling to linger in those thoughts.

Time was precious. Failing to seize hard-earned opportunities was the greatest insult to fate.

Blake's Exotic Exchange sat in the shadows on the east side of the market district. Its sagging wooden sign still hung crooked above the entrance, the lettering more faded than ever, on the verge of being lost to the wind.

Two beastkin guards stood watch at the door, more alert than the last time Robb had seen them. Their eyes gleamed with cold vigilance, muscles taut, ready to subdue any troublemaker.

But when they saw Robb, their hostility vanished. They bowed respectfully and stepped aside.

"Honorable Lord Robb! I heard the great news, you've officially passed your professional potion maker certification!"

The short, chubby slave merchant sprang up from behind the counter the moment he saw Robb, his voice pitched high with flattery as he greeted him with a greasy grin: "I've been hoping for your return ever since your last visit!"

His beady eyes squinted into slits as he grinned, reminding Robb of sleazy secondhand car dealers from his previous life.

Robb gave a slight nod, ignoring the flattery and getting straight to the point: "The dryad I saw last time. Is it still here?"

"Of course! Still here!" the merchant said, rubbing his hands together, a sly glint in his eye.

"I kept it just for you! People have been bidding on it every day, but I told them it was already spoken for."

Robb smiled inwardly. He didn't believe a word.

Last time, the merchant had clearly picked up on his interest and held onto this "rare item," waiting to sell it to him at a premium.

The merchant led Robb through rows of cages, where growls, sobs, and whispers from various supernatural creatures blended into a tragic chorus.

Eventually, they arrived at a separate room in the rear.

It had been cleaned since last time, even a few potted plants placed in the corners.

Clearly, they were trying to create an environment more suitable for a dryad, or rather, to enhance the product's perceived value.

The dryad was curled in the corner, its calm eyes lifting to meet Robb's gaze.

Its skin was still a pale green, covered in fine scales. The vine-like tendrils that passed for hair swayed gently, radiating a strange vitality.

But this time, something was different. The dryad reacted subtly to Robb's presence.

Though it remained quiet and still, a flicker of emotion crossed its eyes, something Robb couldn't quite read, but it seemed to recognize him.

"Look at it! In perfect condition!"

The merchant thumped his chest with pride, beaming smugly: "I've made sure it's watered daily with nutrient solution, kept it lively for you!"