His expectations were already low, but the reality shot down even the last of it. When the shop’s ledger showed zero potions-on-order even after days, Ewan had no choice but to ignore that section and refocus on selling premade potions, lest it annoy him and affect his confidence. Though it had already chinked it.
Everything was for profit—for Novas—and he was earning fine with the off-the shelf potions that he sold. There was no need for potions-on-order, he repeated in his mind to settle his inner critic. It was better to solve the urgent problems his shop faced instead, like the problem of storage.
The space behind the counter wasn’t large enough to support the increased business anymore, the stacking crates of vials almost cleared the top. Ewan was busy brewing potion after potion, so he left the inventory work to the specialized automated worker. But it wasn’t efficient enough to manage the huge numbers, and thus, amplified the problem.
Ewan deliberated for a long time, and in the end, only one solution remained before him—extend the shop. And so, he paid Airadia’s sentience—the hub’s kernel—additional rent in the form of non-native Astylind Cores and rented a large area behind his shop. Anything that brought in resources from another world to Airadia would suffice as rent, but the cores were the easiest and cheapest to procure, so he followed the herd.
The kernel triggered the spell circuit beneath his shop, as the walls rumbled, and flattened and emptied the unowned area towards the back. The perimeter he rented extended to the limits of the new area, the land came under Ulrath’s name, and the kernel solidified the boundary. A section of the back wall inside the shop crumbled to become a door, and in a few hours, the spell circuit erected a storage room as per the framework Ewan submitted. He transferred all his stored potions into this room and also marked it for his connecting point—to avoid appearing in the middle of the shop during business hours then hopping over the counter to handle business.
The moment he solved the problem, and his brain lost the target of its focus, the zero potions-on-order popped up in his mind again to irritate him. If only he had more recipes for the lower stages…
……
“You’re hurt again,” Ewan said when he rushed over to ‘Hopes & Wishes’—Nana’s shop. Her message eased his anxiety, but her flickering and fluctuating spirit blob tensed his nerves again. The space crack might’ve caused her first injury, but she got injured yet again. The island she was on was anything but safe, the presumption and his helplessness provoked his apprehension. “What happened?” he asked.
“I-I fought,” she said in a meek voice. “But I solved it myself.” She perked up again. “I killed her without getting hurt too much.”
“How bad is it?”
“There’s a tribe on the island. They live in caves, I think. They have blindfolds on, and they use soul spells,” she said. “Those spells are really weird, even the chants sounded bizarre; they gave me a headache. There are also skeletons tied on the trees, it was so scary to walk under them. I always felt they were looking at me.”
“I’m asking about your injury. How bad?” he asked, clicking his tongue.
Her spirit blob fluttered as she slowly hovered in place.
“How bad?” Ewan forced his words. His spirit blob would’ve flared his nose and popped a vein if he had any.
“I-I got slapped and she also hurt my soul. My Astylinds too….,” she said.
The words triggered Ewan as he huffed an exhale—the assault of the negative emotions irritated him. He didn’t like this restlessness and the rage that bubbled up. He wanted to torture that woman, slice her up, gouge her eyeballs and feed it to her. That bitch had slapped Nana, she hurt her, she tried to kill her. If only he could get his hands on her, he would flay her alive and cook her flesh to ease the torrent in his head, the violent thoughts took over him. In a mere minute, he’d butchered her in a thousand ways in his mind, and his provoked brain strived to find more. But alas, Nana had already killed her, and he could not vent.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“That’s-that’s enough,” Ewan said. The more she talked about it, the worse his frustration got. “What level are you at?” he asked.
“Sixth,” Nana said.
“You had both Sindra and Ryvia, and yet she could beat you up?” He uttered a dry chuckle once his words ended, his eyes breathing fire. “Why did you let her get close?”
“I-I haven’t practiced them enough,” she said, sheepishly.
She was hurt, he shouldn’t yell at her, he shouldn’t yell; the repeated words and a deep breath tried to calm him down.
“T-The outskirts of the forest seem to be their limit. They stopped chasing me once I made it to the beach, they’re afraid of coming out,” she said.
Ewan sighed and deflated, exhausting all his frustration, not minding her blatant attempt to change the topic. If only she had exited the space crack at the same place as him; he could keep her safe, he would never let her get hurt like that. But he could only heave a defeated sigh when rammed against the reality. He still battled for his plan in Drarith while she struggled to survive on an unknown island. No matter how he extended his arms, he couldn’t reach her. However, they still had the hub, and he was now capable enough to support her successes or failures.
“Give me the list of ingredients,” he said. “I’ll brew the grade-exalt potions for your Astylinds again. Practice on the beach and train them there. Don’t go inside the forest anymore, and also stay away from the ocean. There must be a reason why they aren’t coming out to the beach, be careful.”
“O-Okay,” she said.
“I’ll give you the Anima Potions too, have them train well. Do you understand?” Ewan asked.
She nodded.
“What about food and water? You have enough?”
“I do.”
“You’re closing in on the seventh awakening. Have you thought about Bralek?” Ewan asked. “Do you have any Astylind in mind? Do you want me to look for it?”
“I found a good one on the island, Wood Turtle. There’s a group of them living just by the beach,” she said. “It’s better than the one I had in mind before.”
Weak Anima applications, low affinity and control, but high regeneration and defense—the Astylind suited Nana. If she gained its regenerative or defensive ability, it could bolster her chances of survival, especially on an island like that. A high soul defense could become a natural nemesis of those islanders. If she gained both, she might just become a headache to deal with in a battle of attrition.
“Go for it if you like it, but not now. Heal, train, and let your Astylinds reach higher levels. It won't be too late to hunt for one then,” Ewan said. “Hurry up with the list.”
Nana fumbled about and soon handed him the written list of ingredients.
“I’ll drop the potions off here tomorrow, same time. I’ll brew two sets, if they fail again, make sure to tell me,” he said. “Don’t worry about saving Novas, I have lots now.”
“You don’t have to hurry, I can wait,” Nana said.
“It’s fine, you go back and rest, leave everything else to me,” Ewan said. “Have Luna heal you as soon as possible. Your face must be swollen like a monkey by now. Orange would laugh his ass off if he saw you like that.”
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Status: Healthy
Step-0 [8th Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 1.9
Spirit: 16.9
Anima: [Fire – 16.9 | Ice – 16.9 | Blood – 16.9]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [8th Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-B]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-B]
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Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-C]
Equipment: Common Clothes; Yurn [Neck Gaiter].
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals [Novas Coins]; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 25,785
Crelith: 4,064