Mr. F was still sitting in the library when he closed the book he had been reading. "So, that's how it is," he murmured to himself, sinking deep into thought.

The book he had just finished was titled The Gentle Blacksmith. At first glance, it seemed unrelated to the subject of magical physiques, but appearances can be deceiving. Mr. F had chosen this book for two reasons. First, it detailed a specific profession—in this case, blacksmithing. Second, it described a characteristic preceding the profession. It could have been The Angry Blacksmith or The Strong Blacksmith, but instead, it was The Gentle Blacksmith.

What was a gentle blacksmith? The very concept seemed contrary to the nature of the profession. The book told the story of a young blacksmith, born into a family of smiths. It was his duty to learn the trade from his parents and eventually take over the family business.

But the young man's character did not fit the demands of blacksmithing. Every time he picked up the hammer, his hands would tremble, growing weak and unsteady. When he struck the steel, the force was insufficient; the metal barely bent under his blows.

His father was heartbroken. As the eldest son, the young man was supposed to set an example and lead the family to new heights, but he had only brought disappointment. The father, already old, began to focus his attention on the younger brother, believing that the elder had no talent for the forge.

The elder brother was gradually forgotten by his family. However, his passion for the craft remained as strong as ever. Despite his lack of talent, he continued to visit the forge day after day. Though his hands lacked strength, he struck the steel with precision.

One day, he came across a piece of Waterstone. Waterstone wasn't a true ore, but rather a type of crystal that was notoriously brittle. As a Tier 3 material, it wasn't particularly valuable, but it had unique properties.

Waterstone was as crumbly as dry bread—hard at first but prone to breaking under sufficient pressure. However, when exposed to fire, the material hardened, becoming as tough as stone. Even sharpening it proved challenging once it had reached this state.

Skilled blacksmiths used this material to forge the edges of weapons, but the success rate depended heavily on the smith's abilities. Though it was only a Tier 3 material, a skilled blacksmith could use it to create Tier 4 weapons. But this typically required a Tier 6 blacksmith.

What are Tier 6 blacksmiths? They are the elite of the magical world, capable of crafting Tier 7 weapons if they are skilled enough, and they command respect akin to that of alchemists.

Every mage needs a weapon, and when it comes to blades, a blacksmith is indispensable. The challenge was, why would a Tier 6 blacksmith waste time working with Tier 3 ore?

The chances of success required immense concentration, and the risk of failure was still present. Even if they were forging a Tier 4 weapon as a favor for a friend, why would they use such a difficult material when they could easily craft the blade from ordinary steel?

The only advantage Waterstone offered was its light weight relative to other weapons. For this reason, there were few such weapons on the market.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Yet, the young blacksmith became obsessed with Waterstone. He was only a Tier 1 blacksmith but spent three days and nights in his workshop, hammering away at the Waterstone. With each strike, only small pieces flaked off, but his focus and determination grew stronger by the minute.

On the third day, when his mother became worried, she went to the forge to check on him. What she saw horrified her. The once healthy and robust young man was now nothing more than a withered shadow of his former self. She ran to fetch a doctor, but it was too late—the young man had sacrificed his life.

The doctor concluded that the young man hadn't eaten or drunk anything in days, expending all his life force to maintain his focus.

The father wept as he cleaned out his son's room. But when he was clearing the coals from the forge, he stumbled upon something hard hidden in the still-glowing embers. With tongs, he pulled out a blue-glowing blade, sharper than any sword he had ever crafted, even without honing.

In that moment, he realized he had completely misunderstood his son's talent. He cried out in anguish all night in the forge, tormented by his mistake. The next morning, he pulled himself together and completed the sword, fitting it with a hilt and a scabbard.

When he brought the sword to an appraiser, he was told it was the finest Tier 4 sword the appraiser had ever seen. The appraiser wanted to buy it, but the father refused all offers, deciding to keep the sword as a family heirloom. No one would believe that a blacksmith who couldn't even forge a Tier 1 weapon had created such a masterpiece.

And so, the story was passed down through generations until someone eventually decided to write it down and share it with the world.

What did this have to do with his apprentice? On one level, nothing; on another, everything. The system, as it called itself, had already given Mr. F a clue. Albert possessed what was termed the Chaotic Alchemy Physique. He couldn't find any information about the physique itself, but what could the name imply?

Let's consider that the young blacksmith in the story had the Gentle Blacksmith Physique. His inability to work with ordinary metals made him seem like a poor blacksmith at first glance.

Yet, precisely because of this physique, he managed to forge a Tier 4 weapon despite not even being recognized as a Tier 1 blacksmith.

Now, let's apply this to young Albert. When brewing elixirs, Albert becomes utterly "chaotic," turning everything into a mess. How could this possibly be an advantage in potion-making?

If we consider Albert's approach, he might need a recipe that, at first glance, seems like a wild concoction of reagents. These reagents would also need to have a high heat tolerance since he tends to burn or blow things up.

Blowing things up...blowing things up...That's it! Instability could be the key! Explosive potions have these characteristics. Made from highly unstable materials, potions can be created that aren't meant for consumption.

These could include, for instance, Blinding Fluid, which, when shaken, emits a light as bright as the sun, blinding enemies at the right moment while the alchemist shields his own eyes.

Or Explosive Liquid, which, upon impact with a hard surface, uses kinetic energy to transform into a sea of flames.

But these are all advanced potions, typically of Tier 4 or higher. Mr. F had never heard of a low-level potion of this kind.

Yet, this didn't mean they didn't exist. And if they really don't, hehe, then the system will help me bring them into existence!

Mr. F had learned a lot today and was extremely pleased with his progress. Of course, nothing was set in stone yet—he would need to test his theory first—but for some reason, he felt certain he was on the right track.

He returned the books to the shelf and headed toward the stairs. He glanced up at the third floor but shook his head. "It's late; I'll check out the third floor next time."

With those thoughts in mind, he descended the stairs, taking his time. As he exited the library, however, the first thing he heard was the voice of a girl. "That's him, Brother! That's the old lecher!"