Everything is green. The crates are green. The walls and floor and ceiling are green. I am green.

Despite Iski and Gugora both typically being green, I think they’re about to turn red in anger.

“The food is ruined!” Iski cries. “We’re going to have to make a new batch from scratch. And not to mention all the dried herbs and meat that were exposed to that—that explosion! We need to clear everything out.”

“That was dangerous,” Gugora says, glaring down at me. I have to actively stop myself from cringing like a scolded puppy. “You can’t go mixing potions next to food. What if you poisoned someone? Even if you hadn’t dropped it, that smoke was brewing right next to the stew. Do you know what the side effects would be of consuming that? Did you stop to think you might hurt people?”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. He’s right, I wasn’t thinking of others. I was just excited to finally be able to do some magic. To make some headway on getting stronger. But if I take innocent lives in the process, I’ll be no different from Maru.

“Do you know how much this will cost us?” Iski cries.

“The food can be replaced,” Gugora says with a sigh. “We were lucky that’s all the damage that was done.”

Iski snorts. “Easy for you to say. What’re we supposed to do for dinner? Or breakfast tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I’ll make it up to you guys. I promise.”

“Just promise not to do it again,” Gugora says.

I hesitate.

“See?” Iski scoffs. “Empty apologies.”

“I will make it up to you,” I say, looking up. “Starting now. I’ll go get some food so you can still eat tonight and tomorrow morning.”

“How?” Iski asks, suspicious. “You don’t even know how to hunt.”

“No, but I do,” Gugora says. “I’ll go grab us some meat. I’ve already got some things stored out at the butcher shed. But I’ll have to go hunting again tomorrow to make up for the lost product.”

“Then I’ll get the herbs and vegetables,” I say, jumping at the opportunity. “Mushrooms, spices—I’m really good at foraging. Trust me!”

Iski’s look says everything she thinks about my trustworthiness. Gugora, however, dips his head in a nod. “Fine. You can start earning back that trust and paying off your debt now.”

I leap to my feet. “Thank you! I’ll try to do better—I promise!” I snatch up a basket and dash to the backdoor before I can be subjected to any more admonishments.

“Really?” Iski asks Gugora in disbelief.

I hear a rumbling chuckle. “Idle hands wield Shirasil’s hammer.”

Iski snorts as I’m left wondering who exactly Shirasil is and why I feel vaguely offended.

Relief fills me once I step outside, basking in the late afternoon sun. I do feel bad about disappointing those two. But I also have a deadline to meet. I’ll definitely make it up to them—and use this as an opportunity to forage for some ingredients of my own.

“Alright Echo, help me out here,” I say. “Bring up the list of plants and herbs from Iski and Gugora’s storeroom. And also bring up the list of ingredients from my potion book.”

[Affirmative,] she says, displaying a scrolling list of both requests along the side of my vision.

“I’m going to start searching for anything on either of these lists,” I say. “If you see anything, let me know. We’re going to speedrun this.”

[Herb detected,] Echo says almost immediately. The word Swampgrass appears over a familiar looking weed. I dart over to the herb and pluck the plant, tossing it in my basket, already looking for the next plant before I’ve even stood. [Herb detected. Foraging Skill Level Up!]

Almost a single clearing doesn’t go by without me finding something. I start recognizing the plants on sight, identifying them almost as fast as Echo does. I grab roots, mushrooms, herbs and spices, grass and weeds and flowers and seeds; more plants than I’d ever cared about in my life on Earth. But here they’re not just things to spice up a meal: each one is a piece of a puzzle that unlocks another kind of magic I can learn. While I’m at it, I have Echo start tracking which potions the ingredients can be used for.

An hour in and I’m panting like I’ve just run a marathon. I’m crouching down, hopping up, and darting between plants like my life depends on it. And I suppose, in a manner of speaking, it does. If Maru or one of the other demigods finds out about me, I’m dead. The faster I get stronger, the more likely I am to survive. I wipe a sheen of sweat off my forehead and keep going. Can’t stop now. Have to keep moving forward.

[Experience Threshold Reached,] Echo says when I’m in the midst of picking chokeberries, startling me. [Level up!]

[Name: Sal]

[Class: Rogue]

[Level: 12]

[Attack: 22]

[Agility: 12]

[HP: 90/90]

[Affinities: Poison]

[Role: Chef]

Another level already? Nice! I forgot that doing things that fulfill my Chef role also count as experience toward leveling up. It’s too bad that making potions doesn’t count—but some of my chef skills will help me with potion making, so I guess I can’t complain. Grinning, I dive back into the thicket.

Two hours later I limp back to the Starlight Inn, covered in dirt and about to collapse from exhaustion. Iski is waiting for me, arms crossed, a frown creasing her brows.

“Back so soon?” she asks. “Still an hour before it gets dark. No sense in burning daylight, hm?”

“Sorry,” I pant, sinking down beside her to rest against the side of the building. “The basket was full.”

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“The basket…?” She pauses as she sees what I’ve placed beside her.

The basket I grabbed is not a gardening sized basket. It’s a laundry sized basket, three feet deep and half as wide, fitted with straps so you can carry it on your back. I filled it up—all of it.

“Hmph.” Iski chews her lip, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “Alright, I’ll admit it. Not bad. I’ll get this thing unloaded in a bit and see what all you found. But first, get your ass inside and start helping me clean the walls. That smoke left residue everywhere and I can’t reach some of it.”

I groan, pushing myself to my feet, but I do what she says. It’s the least I can do after ruining all their food.

Besides, I’ll need a clean workspace to practice my next potion.

----------------------------------------

Okay so I don’t immediately brew another potion in the kitchen. I wouldn’t betray Gugora’s trust like that. But I do go through the list of potions that don’t require boiling water and stash some ingredients away in my bedroom to experiment with later.

Gugora is able to bring some meat in from the butchering shed, Iski picks a bunch of vegetables from the garden, and all is well. Well, Iski is still pretty peeved at me. But we’re all able to eat, at least, and things go back to the normal routine.

Only now, I’m mixing potions every chance I get. I swipe a pot from the kitchen and stay up all night making general salves and poultices. I pick every toxic berry, ivy, and mushroom I can find, and then I make their antidote. And if the antidote isn’t in the book, I use the potion recipes for the other ones as a template to try to mix my own recipe. I’d love to get my hands on some venom next and try to brew an antivenom, but I’m not terribly equipped to go snake hunting. Not yet, anyway.

That week, I level up a second time, hitting thirteen. I’m finally working this chef role to my advantage; spending every free moment running around the forest grabbing ingredients and then mixing them in my room means I can work on leveling up skills and gaining experience almost all day long. But that’s when I notice: my HP and Attack stayed the same, but my Agility increased by three points.

“What gives?” I ask Echo as I work on another antidote in my bedroom.

By now I’ve got a small collection of jars and bottles lining the wall, each one packed with ingredients or successful potions. So far, my spoils include: Potion of Acid Resistance, Burn Salve, Greater Poultice, Healing Potion, Carnivorous Orchid Antidote, and Smoke Potion. Not really sure how I’m supposed to test the acid resistance, but I was doing it for practice more than anything. And actually, it’s not even a completed Acid Resistance potion. Right now, it’s mostly just green tinted water. I discovered that I could brew the potion’s ingredients, cool the water down, and then add the magic at a later point to activate the potion for a slightly less potent effect. I’ve experimented doing that with a lot of these, actually. It seems like you can prep most potions in advance and wait to add the magic until you want to activate the spell. I get a longer shelf life that way, and I can save my precious supply of mana for when I really need it, but the tradeoff is that the potion’s effects are lessened. I wonder what other effects I can discover through experimenting that aren’t mentioned in the book?

[Question not specific,] Echo says.

“I mean, how come some of my stats went up, but not others?” I clarify.

[Like Skills, Stats increase with the degree to which the user utilizes them,] Echo says. [While Skills are a direct reflection of practiced abilities, however, Stats may be boosted by the System as a reward for engaging with relevant user attributes.]

“Relevant?” I murmur, partially distracted by my potion. I scrape some chopped up swampweed into a bowl and add a dusting of sage. My Knifework skill is up to level 4, now, too.

[Stats as relevant to the user’s Role, Species, and Class.]

I frown. “Is that why my HP and Mana haven’t increased? Even though I’ve been hurt a lot and have been using magic every day.”

[Affirmative,] Echo says.

“Weak,” I grumble. I wish I could boost my Mana up more, at least. “But Agility can go up?”

[Affirmative.]

“And Attack? Why didn’t that increase?”

[The user has not utilized offensive abilities since their last level up.]

Aha. The last time I used offensive abilities was probably when I’d fended off Cyros, which is why I got a boost to my attack after that level up, but not since then. And I’d spent the last several days running around grabbing herbs and plants, so that’s why my Agility went up. Which means, if I know which of my Stats stand to change between level ups, I can decide what I want to spend my time on and min-max the shit out of this system.

“What other Stats have gone up the last few levels?” I ask Echo.

[The top ten stats which have been granted point boosts since Level 10 include Constitution, Stealth, Speed, Agility, Obstinance, Curiosity, Wisdom, Attack, Antipathy, and Perseverance.]

I tip my head. “Okay, Attack and Constitution and stuff I get, but Curiosity? Perseverance? That doesn’t sound like a stat.”

[Stats include physical, mental, and emotional qualities.]

“Hm. I guess that makes sense.” I grab my knife and start chopping up the last ingredient, brownskull mushrooms. “Wait, what does obstinance mean?”

My knife slips and it nicks my finger.

[2 points of Slashing damage self-inflicted.]

“Crap!” I cry, sticking my finger in my mouth as a bead of blood begins to well up. A metallic taste floods my mouth—along with the earthy taste of mushrooms.

Uh-oh.

[Status Effect sustained: Poisoned,] Echo says.

“Shit!”

I lunge for my potions, grabbing the healing potion and the greater poultice.

“What are the effects, Echo?”

[Poisoned,] Echo recites. [1 HP lost every minute until the status effect expires. Time remaining: 2 hours.]

Whew. Okay, a lot less potent than that handful of orchid sap I’d poured over myself. I don’t have to worry about dying anytime soon. At least now that I’m at the inn, I can get help from Iski or Gugora if I need it. Not that I like the idea of admitting to either of them what I’m doing up here in my room.

I pop open the poultice first and stick my finger into the brown sludge.

[Status effect reduced,] Echo reports. [Time remaining: 30 minutes.]

I guess that tells me how effective my poultice is: it reduces the effects of a poison by a quarter. To a quarter? It… quarters it. Whatever. And 30 minutes means this poisoning officially won’t kill me. I can wait it out without having to worry about my 90 HP hitting zero. Even so, this seems like a good opportunity to test out my health potion.

I set the poultice back and pop the cork off the potion. A faint green light shines out of the bottle—actually, much fainter than it was yesterday. Hmmm. “Echo, Check my potion.”

[Simple Health Potion. Healing capacity: 10 HP. Efficacy: 49%.]

“Efficacy?” I ask. “That wasn’t there yesterday.”

[The shelf life of magical brews gradually decreases with time,] Echo says. [How long the efficacy remains high depends on the user’s school of magic within umbrella arcana. For health potions, healing magic produces the highest efficacy of Life arcana, whereas necromancy produces the lowest.]

“Where does Poison fall under that umbrella?” I ask.

[Poison is a subcategory of Plant magic,] Echo says. [It produces medium-to-low tiers of efficacy for health potions.]

Figures. Well, at least I’m able to make health potions at all, even if they are subpar. I stick my finger in the glowing green bottle and the throbbing in my finger immediately vanishes.

[2 points HP regained.]

I go back to finishing up the brownskull mushroom antidote I was ironically in the process of making as the poison works its way through my system and my HP creeps steadily downward. I start to feel a little weak and hot, but don’t notice any other side effects.

I wait until I’ve lost about 20 HP before finally trying the health potion again. I don’t have any physical injuries this time, so I’m curious to see how effective the health potion is.

I sniff suspiciously at the bottle. It was made with swamproot and ratwarts, so I’m not terribly enthralled by the idea of drinking it. Without any injuries to pour it over, however, I see little alternative. I pinch my nose, throw back my head, and take a gulp.

“Ugh!” I cough and splutter, fighting the urge to spit the vile mixture all back out onto my floor. It’s like I licked the floor of a barn. After I finish coughing, I go back to plugging my nose, desperate to dilute the flavor.

[5 HP regained,] Echo says.

Better than I was hoping, really. And good to know for future use.

Finally, eventually, the Status Effect timer runs out.

[Poisoned status effect expired,] Echo reports. Then, [Poison Resistance Level up! Poison Resistance skill is now Level 2. When the user is inflicted by poison, venom, or a toxin, their HP decay rate and status effect timer is decreased by 10%. Note: this percentage is 20% for carnivorous orchid poison and brownskull mushroom poison due to prior exposures.]

“Oh really now?” A smile creeps over my face. This just gave me an idea. A reckless, stupid, dangerous idea. But I’m not about to let those details stop me.

“Hey Echo, if I cut up some mushrooms and Checked it, would the dose be able to indicate how bad the status effect should be?”

[Affirmative,] Echo says. [Toxic Intuition would identify the potency of a poison the user is familiar with.]

I grin wickedly. “Well then. Time to grind my Poison Resistance skill up a few levels.”