Meanwhile, Mr. F was completely unaware that the Church of Light was already on his trail. He was about to go to bed when Matilda approached him.
"I heard there were no explosions today," she said sternly. "I hope it stays that way."
Mr. F said nothing in response to this remark. After all, he had made good progress today and was no longer worried about passing the test in five days.
"I would like to observe your progress tomorrow. I spoke with Miss Emma, and she has allowed me to move up the test of your abilities and to expel you if I am not satisfied with your progress."
Mr. F looked at her in astonishment. He could sense that she wasn't telling the truth, but he decided not to question her. After all, he would need her help in the future to obtain various alchemical ingredients, and it would be a bad idea to get on her bad side.
Instead, he simply replied, "Why wait until tomorrow? Let's test my progress right now."
This response caught Matilda off guard. She had intended to unsettle Mr. F and keep him awake all night with anxiety.
Mr. F walked past her before she could respond. It took her a few seconds to recover her composure, and then she followed him into the laboratory.
Once inside, Mr. F wasted no time. He began by setting up his equipment, carefully laying out the ingredients for the Tier 3 elixirs he had been practicing with. The familiar scent of herbs and alchemical reagents filled the air, blending with the faint aroma of burnt candle wax.
Matilda watched him closely, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized his every move. She was looking for any sign of hesitation or incompetence. Instead, she saw confidence and precision.
Mr. F started the process by lighting the fire beneath his cauldron, ensuring the temperature was just right. He then began mixing the ingredients, taking care to follow the exact measurements and steps outlined by the system. Each movement was deliberate, each decision calculated.
Matilda's irritation grew as she realized that Mr. F was handling the procedure with more skill than she had anticipated. She had hoped to catch him off guard, but instead, she found herself watching an adept alchemist at work.
As Mr. F completed the final steps, he did not compress the mixture into a pill. Instead, he carefully filled the elixir into a small vial using a ladle. He held it up to the light, examining its glow. It radiated with a potent aura, indicating its increased efficacy.
The system confirmed his success with a silent notification that only he could see:
[New Alchemical Run Complete]
[Potion Efficiency: 72%]
He turned to Matilda, a slight smile on his lips. "There it is. A Tier 3 elixir with good efficiency. Would you like to inspect it?"
Matilda took the potion from him and examined it closely. She couldn't deny the quality. Her plan to unsettle him had failed, but she wasn't ready to give up.
"Impressive," she said, her voice laced with a mixture of begrudging respect and frustration. "But don't think this means you've proven yourself just yet. I'll be keeping a close eye on you."
Mr. F nodded, unfazed by her words. "Of course. I welcome any further tests you have in mind."
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As Matilda left the lab, Mr. F breathed a sigh of relief. The quality of the potion should be enough to keep Matilda at bay for now. The reason he hadn't made a pill was that potions generally had a higher potency.
Mr. F was already curious about how Matilda would react. He found it a pity he wouldn't be able to see her face when she discovered that the potion had reached an efficiency of over 70%.
The room was quiet again, and Mr. F allowed himself a moment of satisfaction before he left the lab and retired to his chambers. A lot had happened that day, and it was no surprise that Mr. F fell asleep immediately.
While Mr. F drifted into the land of dreams, Matilda took the elixir he had prepared and made her way to her personal laboratory. Compared to the lab assigned to regular staff like Mr. F, Matilda's lab was significantly larger and more extravagant.
In the center of the room stood a massive cauldron, about four meters in diameter and three meters in height. It was a deep jade green, adorned with intricate runes of various kinds—a Tier 6 artifact and Matilda's greatest pride.
Only she had the right to use this cauldron as the head of the alchemy lab. Of course, she had the authority to grant permission for its use to other members of the lab, but it was well known that in the decades since the cauldron had been entrusted to Matilda, no one else had been given that privilege.
The air in the lab was thick with the scent of rare herbs and magical reagents, stored on shelves lining the walls, each in its own meticulously labeled jar or vial. The room was lit by a soft, otherworldly glow emanating from several luminescent stones embedded in the ceiling, casting a serene yet slightly eerie light over the array of alchemical tools and apparatuses.
Matilda approached a table near the cauldron and set the elixir down carefully. She examined it under a magnifying glass, noting its color, viscosity, and the faint glow that indicated its potency. Despite her earlier frustration, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity. Mr. F had managed to produce an elixir with a quality that was not easily dismissed, even by her exacting standards.
She sighed, a mix of annoyance and reluctant admiration filling her. "I suppose he does have some talent," she muttered to herself. But talent alone was not enough to earn her approval. She needed to know exactly how potent this elixir was and whether it could meet the standards she had set.
Matilda reached for a small vial filled with a clear liquid and added a single drop to the elixir. The liquid inside shimmered for a moment, then began to change color. First, it turned a pale blue, then a deep blue, and finally settled into a deep, vibrant purple—a sign that the elixir had reached a potency of at least 70%. Matilda's expectations were low, but just as she thought the color might shift again, it remained steadfast in that dark purple hue.
"The elixir has a potency of at least 70%," she murmured to herself. Given the fact that the color didn't darken significantly, she estimated it was in the early 70% range, perhaps around 71-73%.
Matilda placed the elixir back on the table and sat down in a nearby chair. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin in her hands as she propped herself up on the table.
The elixir itself was nothing extraordinary. If it were a Tier 5 elixir with the same potency, it would be a different matter altogether. There were numerous alchemists under her command capable of achieving such potency. However, the truly remarkable aspect lay in the fact that Mr. F had only started brewing this particular recipe a few days ago. That was a detail she couldn't afford to overlook. Even as the head of the lab, she wasn't certain she could achieve such results in so short a time. But did this old man really possess more talent than she did?
Talent is something that cannot be measured with instruments. It manifests in various forms. Some people have the talent to focus completely on their work without distraction. Others have the ability to immediately recognize their mistakes while brewing alchemical elixirs. And then there are those who learn everything quickly, ascending to the rank of master alchemist within a few short years.
But did Mr. F truly belong to one of these categories? Perhaps he already knew the recipe, or maybe he had simply been lucky. Many questions swirled in Matilda's mind during this quiet night.
She couldn't help but wonder what lay behind Mr. F's unexpected success. Was it genuine talent, or was there something more to his sudden progress? The more she thought about it, the more intrigued she became. The idea that this seemingly unremarkable man might possess untapped potential was both unsettling and exciting.
Matilda knew she couldn't dismiss him lightly. If Mr. F continued to show such rapid improvement, he could become a significant player in the alchemical world, perhaps even a threat to her own position. But for now, all she could do was observe and wait, and see how things would unfold. One thing was certain—she would be watching him very closely.