Mr. F walked slowly towards the sapling, but before he could reach it, the system made itself known.

[Follow-Up Quest: Do as you please with the sapling completed]

[Quest Reward: Knowledge on creating an alchemical field and cultivating magical plants has been transferred to the system interface]

[Follow-Up Quest Generated: Learn more about the sapling]

[Quest Reward: Knowledge on how to create low-tier magical plants]

Mr. F was genuinely surprised. The new quest essentially confirmed that the ritual had been successful. Moreover, the reward for the quest was extraordinary. "How does one create magical plants?" he wondered. Typically, it was a matter of luck or having the right resources, like magical soil. Sure, one could improve their chances with careful cultivation, feeding the plants magic, and tending to them meticulously, but at the end of the day, it often came down to fortune and good resources. So, what could the system know that Mr. F didn't?

"Well, let's see," Mr. F muttered to himself as he approached the sapling. He could feel a strong surge of vitality radiating from it, sensing the immense magical power contained within. He held it in his hand, and the sapling seemed to move slightly, almost reacting to being in his grasp. The longer he held it, the more it began to shift, as if uncomfortable.

"Hmmm… let's give you a new home," Mr. F said, forming a small stone pot and filling it with some of the magical soil he had. He made a tiny hole in the soil and placed the sapling inside. To his surprise, the sapling didn't need him to cover it; it buried its own roots, spreading quickly into the soil.

Impressed by how quickly the sapling was thriving, Mr. F decided to give it more attention once he returned to the city. He placed a small protective barrier around the plant and tucked it inside his robe. Dawn was breaking, and he knew it was time to head back to the city.

Upon returning to his room, he had barely settled when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Mr. F called out, and the butler of Emma's household entered. This was the same butler he had met after the auction. The man bowed slightly before speaking.

"Honored Mr. F, Madam Emma has requested your presence for breakfast. The patriarch of the household is also in attendance, and she hopes you can grant them the honor of accepting this short-notice invitation."

"Quite early for such a charade," Mr. F thought, but seeing as he had nothing pressing to do before the lab reopened in a few days, he nodded.

"Wait outside for me. I'll be ready in fifteen minutes after I've washed and changed."

The butler bowed again and left the room. Mr. F took his time to clean himself and put on fresh clothes. Once ready, he stepped outside, where a carriage awaited him. Without a word, he entered and settled in for the ride.

The journey to Emma's estate was uneventful, and Mr. F soon arrived at the familiar grand residence. The butler guided him to the same dining room where their last meeting had taken place. Though only a short time had passed, much had changed since his last visit. Mr. F was curious to see what fruit this meeting would bear, knowing well that nothing in this world was ever a mere social call.

As Mr. F entered the room, he saw Emma and the patriarch already seated at the table. They were engaged in what seemed like a serious conversation, but upon noticing Mr. F's arrival, they both paused and turned their attention to him.

Mr. F greeted them with a smile, "Good evening, Emma. Good evening, Mr. Silverblade."

Emma returned his greeting with a warm smile, but Gustav Silverblade, the patriarch, was more forward in his response. "You can just call me Gustav," he said, his tone implying camaraderie. "After all, we are equals here."

Mr. F raised an eyebrow slightly at the suggestion. Gustav clearly believed that Mr. F had once been a Rank 7 mage, completely unaware that Mr. F had actually reached the heights of Rank 9. A smirk threatened to appear on Mr. F's face as he imagined how Gustav might react to learning the full truth. "I wonder what his expression would be," Mr. F mused silently.

But he gave nothing away. With his usual calm demeanor, he responded, "Of course, Gustav. What brings me the honor of this invitation? I'm certain this isn't just a simple courtesy."

At this, Gustav gestured subtly, and the servants in the room quietly exited, leaving the three of them alone. The table before them was already laden with an array of delicacies—plates of roasted meats, colorful fruits, and an assortment of breads and wines.

Gustav began to eat, his manner surprisingly casual given the gravity of the conversation. Between bites, sometimes with a full mouth, sometimes after swallowing, he continued, "When Emma first told me about you, I'll admit I had my concerns. Someone of your… talents, suddenly appearing in a city as remote as this—it's enough to raise a few suspicions. But then, I heard about that auction. When you mentioned life-extending elixirs, I realized that my concerns were unfounded."

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He paused, taking another bite of bread before continuing. "I know Emma's already made you an offer, but now that I've learned more about you, I think we can do better. I propose we sweeten the deal."

Mr. F listened intently, his expression unreadable as Gustav raised a goblet of ale, toasting to the unspoken proposal.

"Work with me," Gustav went on. "Come to the capital. We won't be superior and subordinate, but partners—comrades who help each other." He took a sip from his goblet, clearly pleased with his own words. "Think of what we could accomplish together."

Mr. F's gaze remained steady as he leaned back slightly. "Your offer sounds intriguing," he said, his voice measured. "But what exactly would your help entail? And what kind of help would you expect from me? I hope you're not imagining that I'll simply wipe out your enemies in the capital for you while you reap the rewards. Even if I weren't currently weakened, the price for such assistance would be significant."

Mr. F was, in truth, interested in the offer, but the idea of traveling to the capital posed its own dangers. The heart of the kingdom, bustling with powerful figures and political intrigue, was also home to the headquarters of the very church that sought to eradicate mages like him. Moving too close to them could either be a masterstroke or a fatal mistake. Yet, paradoxically, hiding in plain sight, right under the noses of his enemies, might be the best strategy.

As he weighed the risks and benefits, Gustav spoke again, eager to convince him. "I understand your caution. But I can offer you resources—money, protection, influence. You wouldn't just be a tool; you'd be an ally. And as for what I would expect in return, well, I wouldn't dream of asking for anything unreasonable. We both know power comes at a price."

Mr. F gave a subtle nod, acknowledging the patriarch's words while still maintaining an air of skepticism. "And what price do you imagine that would be?"

Gustav's expression darkened slightly, his tone lowering as he leaned forward. "Information, for one. You've seen the chaos that can happen in even a small city like this. In the capital, it's on another scale. The factions, the maneuvering, it's all deadly serious. I need someone like you to watch my back. If you help me rise in influence, you'll never search for resources again."

There was a long pause as Mr. F considered the offer. The tension in the room thickened. Emma, watching from her seat, said nothing but kept her eyes fixed on Mr. F, her expression one of anticipation. She knew her father's ambition well, but she also knew that Mr. F was not someone easily swayed by words alone.

Finally, Mr. F spoke, his voice calm but firm. "The capital is a dangerous place, Gustav. I could help you, yes. But the question remains, what exactly do you expect me to do when I get there? I won't be dragged into pointless political games."

Gustav smiled. "No games, Mr. F. Just a mutually beneficial alliance. I want you to be my eyes and ears, nothing more."

"In exchange for this partnership, I'm prepared to give you something of great value," Gustav said, pulling a small vial from within his robes.

The moment he did, Mr. F could sense the magical energy radiating from it. The air in the room seemed to hum, thick with the latent power contained in that one small bottle. Gustav held it up, the liquid within glimmering softly under the light.

"With this elixir, your life will be extended by another ten years," Gustav explained, his voice calm but weighted with importance. "Your strength will gradually return. It wasn't easy to acquire this, you know. I had to spend a considerable amount of gold coins—more than you might imagine. I'm telling you this so you understand how much I value this partnership."

Mr. F's heartbeat quickened, though he kept his expression as neutral as ever. If the elixir was what Gustav claimed, it would give Mr. F a crucial edge. While it wouldn't restore him to his former Rank 9 power, the vitality contained within should be enough to temporarily push him back to Rank 8, even if only for a year or two. He knew that using this elixir, designed for Rank 7 mages, would limit its effectiveness, but the thought of saving the immense amount of energy and souls required to reach Rank 8 again made the deal all the more enticing.

Yet, Mr. F maintained his composure. He leaned forward, mirroring Gustav's posture. "Your offer is intriguing, Gustav. I like it. But before we go any further, let's discuss the finer details of this arrangement. I assume you want more than just an ally, you want security, influence, and control. Let's iron out exactly what both sides will gain."

The next few hours passed in a heated negotiation. Their conversation turned into a careful dance, each trying to gain leverage over the other. Even Emma, who had witnessed her father negotiate with some of the most powerful men in the kingdom, found herself marveling at the complexity of their back-and-forth. It was hard to tell who held the upper hand.

By midday, an agreement had finally been reached. Mr. F would receive 5% of the family's total earnings—an amount that might seem small to an outsider but was, in reality, a significant fortune. Even Gustav, as the patriarch, only kept 12% for himself. By offering Mr. F those 5%, Gustav had reduced his own take to just 7%, a rare display of trust and commitment.

Additionally, Mr. F would claim 100% of the spoils from any battle or conflict he was involved in. His involvement with the family was to last a minimum of two years or until the family had gained a significant foothold in their trade and influence markets. However, if Mr. F chose to leave after two years, he would forfeit his share of the family's income.

More importantly, the family agreed to assist Mr. F in obtaining further elixirs, using their resources and connections to track down rare ingredients for future concoctions.

After sealing the deal, Mr. F departed the estate in a carriage, his mind filled with plans. Gustav was scheduled to leave in two days, and Mr. F would accompany him, traveling to the capital on Gustav's griffin. He would receive the promised elixir shortly after.

As the carriage rattled through the streets, Mr. F allowed himself a moment to reflect on the outcome. On the surface, the agreement was favorable. He had secured an alliance with one of the most influential families, would gain vital resources, and had a clear path to restore some of his former strength. Yet, there was something nagging at him. Despite the apparent openness of the negotiations, he couldn't shake the feeling that Gustav had left out certain key details.

Could it really be this straightforward?