The Alchemy Guild’s headquarters buzzed with the low hum of conversation and the clink of glassware, a quiet bustle that faded when we entered.

Nebula was at my side, her usual guarded look having returned when Prince Alaric joined her earlier. His presence beside us sent waves of murmurs through the hall. Guild members glanced our way, whispers passing like wildfire as they eyed the Romani and Roshmar nobles, heads turning with a mix of curiosity and caution.

I kept my stride steady as if I hadn’t noticed. The stares were nothing new—benefits of carrying the name Romani. Although these days, there was a peculiar, almost watchful silence that hinted at more. Words of my recent endeavors didn’t remain imprisoned within the school grounds.

“The Alchemy Guild here is smaller than the one in Rhiamere,” Jana the maidservant said. Rhiamere was the Roshmar Kingdom’s capital, and the Alchemy Guild was big there compared to both Ethenia and Erebia.

“I heard Prince Alaric’s great-grandfather was a renowned alchemist, is that the reason behind it?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

Prince Alaric let out a polite laugh. “Ah, yes. Don’t worry, the Alchemy Guild in Crownswatch,” which was the royal capital of Ethenia, “is larger than this.”

“Still smaller than the one back home,” Jana insisted, and Prince Alaric tried not to brag, clearing his throat softly. I and Lilian exchanged glances.

Not long after that, a young guild assistant approached us, visibly flustered when she recognized the foreign Prince beside us. She was small, black-haired, and perhaps barely older than Lilian. Her hands clutched a leather-bound notebook so tightly that her knuckles were white.

She gave a hurried bow, her gaze darting between Prince Alaric and me, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Your Highness, Young Master Romani,” she greeted, nodding to each of us in turn. Her eyes flickered nervously to Prince Alaric. “If you’ll follow me, Senior Alchemist Reylan is expecting you in the evaluation chamber.”

“Lead the way,” I said, offering her a nod.

The hall stretched out before us as she guided us through, rows of alchemical equipment and neatly organized stations adding to the heavy scent of herbs and minerals in the air. I noticed several of the guild’s members still casting furtive glances as we passed, and a few whispered among themselves, their words hushed but clear enough to catch fragments.

“That’s him… the Romani who defeated the demons…”

“What’s he doing with the third Prince of Roshmar?”

I didn’t let it bother me, but I was a little taken aback that my name was being passed around as ‘the one who defeated the demons.’ It was odd because the story I preached clearly stated that one of the demons died at the hands of a mysterious hooded figure, and the other fled due to multiple factors. I just happened to be one of those factors thanks to my Starlight Mana Blade.

Not that I was complaining. This was much better than being looked down at as a ‘loser’. I shot a quick glance at Alaric, who met my eyes with a wry smile. He was involved in the incident, I heard from Amelia later on, so I was starting to have an idea why he chose to tag along…

Finally, the assistant led us through a tall door engraved with intricate patterns, stopping just outside. “Senior Alchemist Reylan awaits you inside. B-best of luck,” she added, almost as an afterthought, before quickly excusing herself, looking relieved to escape.

We pushed open the door with a creak and stepped into the chamber to find the man seated at a polished mahogany table, his gaze sharp and assessing. Alchemist Reylan looked like he’d been carved out of granite—each line on his face etched deep, eyes narrowed beneath bushy brows as he observed us with barely veiled scrutiny.

It was a gaze that measured and weighed before you even had a chance to open your mouth. He didn’t seem very pleased with this meeting, giving me the impression that he was only here because the Chancellor asked. There was also a chance that it was just how his face looked. I couldn’t be sure.

“Romani,” he said, acknowledging me with a sharp nod that was neither welcoming nor dismissive. His eyes lingered on Prince Alaric for a moment before he turned back to me. “So you’re the one who claims to have crafted something new.”

“Not a claim, Senior Alchemist Reylan,” I replied, letting my words carry the confidence I intended. I took the vial from my pocket and held it up, watching the round shimmer of faint crimson catch the light. “It’s called the Surging Blood Pill. An alchemical marvel designed to enhance the user’s strength and resilience for a limited time by using up a portion of their mana. Be it a [Mage] or a [Knight] type.”

Reylan’s gaze didn’t waver, and his hand motioned for me to place the vial on the table before him. I did, meeting his piercing gaze with an expression just as unyielding.

“A boost in strength in exchange for mana? Even for Mages?” Reylan repeated the skepticism in his unmistakable tone. He uncorked the vial, sniffing the contents with a frown, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to assess it by scent alone. His eyes shimmered, he seemed to be using some type of Inspection Skill. “Hmm… Temporary enhancements are not new to alchemy. Why should I believe yours is different?”

Clearly, whatever Inspection Skill he used didn’t show the fine details. If it had, he wouldn’t have asked such a stupid question. My [Insight] could see a fine page of it.

I was disappointed that he couldn’t see the pill’s worth, using just his Skill alone. I was hoping for that much, as he’s a ‘Senior Alchemist’ who was inspecting an alchemical product.

“It’s the effect on the mana that’s different,” I explained since he was blind to treasures. “The Surging Blood Pill draws mana directly into the body’s muscles, amplifying the user’s physical capabilities beyond what mana alone could achieve. It’s an augmentation, not just a spell in liquid form. Knight types and Mage types alike could benefit in a way traditional enhancements can’t replicate.”

Reylan considered my words, tilting the vial slightly as he examined the pills within, then looked back at me, an eyebrow raised in challenge. “And what of the side effects? Surely if the pill is as impressive as you say it is, it must come with severe cost.”

I gave a nod, acknowledging the point. “There are side effects, but not severe and not permanent. Merely mild exhaustion after the effects wear off. It varies depending on the user’s mana reserves but doesn’t impose any lasting harm.”

He let out a short, dry laugh, his gaze still piercing. “Interesting claim, Romani, but we don’t take word-of-mouth here. A live demonstration is necessary. You’ll understand that we don’t test unproven concoctions lightly.”

Nebula And I exchanged glances, and I shrugged. “I’ll handle it,” I offered, but Nebula had already moved, placing a hand on my arm as she slid past, calm and unbothered.

“No, I should do it,” she said, glancing at me briefly. “Greetings, senior alchemist. I’m the co-creator of the pill, and as a Mage, I believe it’ll make more sense if I’m the one to show off.” Her tone was level as if the matter was settled.

She wasn’t wrong. The impact would be more impressive if she did it herself. Still, I found myself almost amused at her boldness. Nebula was never the one to back down.

I looked at Reylan, who shrugged. “Go on with it,” he agreed, and I nodded, stepping back. He pressed a button on his table, and the door opened immediately as a servant peeked inside. “Bring the punch power measuring device,” he said, and the servant nodded.

A minute later, a tall steel structure with a flat surface stood in the middle of the room.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Now, punch it. As you’ve not taken the pill yet, this will measure your natural strength,” Reylan said. “Then, you’ll punch it again after taking the pill.”

“Understood,” Nebula said, positioning herself in front of the device and giving Reylan a cool look. She raised her fist. With a moment’s focus, she struck the steel surface, her punch landing with a clean, practiced force. The room thrummed. The machine hummed to life, the runes glowing as a number flashed on the display.

2,500.

“Nice form,” I complimented her. Despite being a [Mage], she clearly knew her way around with melee fights. And she was also stronger than normal due to her vampiric blood. Enough that Reylan’s unimpressed expression cracked and he blinked in surprise. The shock didn’t remain as he quickly recorded the score.

“...Acceptable for a Mage,” he remarked, his tone dismissive again.

I barely suppressed an eye-roll. Look at him pretend. Nebula didn’t respond. Instead, she walked over to the table and grabbed the vial, retrieving the Surging Blood Pill under Reylan’s watchful gaze.

She swallowed it, her expression unchanged, though I could feel the air around her shift. Her mana flared for a moment before lessening. They had settled into her muscles. If Reylan wasn’t impressed yet, he would be soon enough.

She walked back to the machine. Nebula raised her fist again, tightening her stance, and delivered another strike. Boom! This time, the machine shuddered under the impact, sounding like a bomb. The runes blazed as a new number appeared on the screen.

5,200.

“Whoa…!” Jana gasped, and the room fell silent. Prince Alaric was blinking as if to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Reylan’s pen hovered mid-air, his eyes locked on the display. This time, he failed to hold back his shock, his eyes wide, and I savored it, keeping my own expression neutral.

"I-Interesting… A growth of more than 100%...” Reylan murmured, the note of respect creeping reluctantly into his tone. “The potency is… considerable.”

Of course, it is, I wanted to say. He was an arrogant man, but he knew when to recognize treasure when provided with enough evidence.

Nebula turned to him, dusting off her hands, and Reylan studied her with renewed interest, but his eyes quickly shifted to me.

“So what is the mechanism behind this?” he asked, still skeptical. “How does the pill yield such a drastic increase? I hope you have an explanation, and this isn’t just some lucky coincidental creation of a student.”

That annoyed me a little. Hadn’t he seen enough? I kept my voice steady as I explained. “The pill converts roughly 30% of the user’s available mana points directly into physical strength. The more mana, the greater the effect. For mages with high mana reserves, the boost can be significant. Yes, more than 100%. Though naturally, it’s only temporary.” I glanced at Nebula, whose posture hadn’t faltered. “For her, we’ve found after numerous tries that any exhaustion kicks in around half an hour after use. And thanks to her large mana pool, the fatigue is minimal, while someone with less mana might pass out for a short time. It’s not life-threatening.”

Reylan mulled this over, his fingers tapping against the device. He wasn’t entirely sold yet—I could see it in his eyes. “This side effect of exhaustion,” he began in a cautious tone. “That poses certain limitations, wouldn’t you say? Especially since you said the consumer might pass out. That might bring them death during a monster subjugation. Considering all this… I’d need a month’s testing, naturally, to understand its effects across various people of various Classes.”

I frowned. A month. Such a waste of precious time. It wasn’t unexpected, but I had hoped Amelia’s referral would help speed things up. Oh well, it’s not in my control.

The guild was going to crawl through every little test they could think of, and I could practically see Reylan savoring the chance to dig into every possible flaw he could find.

Before I could respond, however, Prince Alaric, who had been silently observing, spoke up.

“If I may interject,” Alaric said smoothly, cutting through the tension. His eyes shifted between Reylan and me, an almost amused glint hidden behind them. “Roshmar would be very interested in purchasing the recipe for this pill. Or even licensing it. And I’ll assure you, our terms would be far more… favorable than Waybound’s Alchemy Guild.”

His maidservant Jana was stunned to hear that, while Reylan’s eyes narrowed, and he bristled slightly, obviously taken aback. Nebula’s gaze darted to me, surprise flickering there as if to say, "Did you expect that?"

Truth be told?

I did.

****

Prince Alaric Roshmar tracked Iskandaar Romani’s every movement, his mind already running calculations, mapping each advantage that flickered before him. He looked at Nebula next. Watching her strength go more than double as she took the pill made a glimmer of raw potential flash before his eyes.

And that potential? It could be his. Roshmar’s.

This Surging Blood Pill—what a find it was. Indeed, it was a good choice to tag along with Iskandaar. He was curious about what pill this young dark horse had made, and he was pleasantly surprised to see the result. Alaric knew that he had to get the recipe for this pill, no matter what.

Alaric could already picture this pill getting woven into the fabric of Roshmar's military. Roshmar’s soldiers fortified, their strength unmatched on any battlefield. He could already envision it!

And more than that, this pill was a catalyst—an opportunity. He could turn it into his people’s defense, their advantage, and yes, his way forward. Not just a third prince, not another pawn at court, but something greater.

His father and his brothers might’ve settled into the roles tradition handed them, but not him. He’d been restless his entire life for something like this, something that meant more than tradition, that’d allow him to one-up his older siblings and strengthen his claim for the throne. For whatever his brothers were, they were not King material.

Only Alaric Roshmar could save his nation from the damned sandwich that it was, pressed between the giants that were Erebia and Ethenia.

Alaric never dreamt of defeating these nations, not with the power of Arcane Crowns that both of them had, but at least he might be able to stop Roshmar from getting pushed around by these two. And this pill… might just be the start of Roshmar standing up with its spine straight.

The atmosphere of the Alchemy Guild around him—the stares, the whispered awe at his presence from earlier—faded as he focused on the moment. This was an opportunity, and Alaric knew better than to let it slip.

Beside the mahogany desk, Senior Alchemist Reylan cleared his throat, his words clipped and sharp. “Prince Alaric! You can’t simply make an offer for an untested product. This guild doesn’t sell anything without proper trials, and a thirty-day testing period ensures we’re not distributing poison. Monopolizing it without certainty would be reckless!”

Alaric held back the urge to scoff. These guild types, so comfortable in their methods, so caged by their caution, failed to see glittering gold. This pill was like the Philosopher’s Stone. A money-making machine! Of course, not just for himself, but for Iskandaar Romani as well. If there was something he’d learned in the last few months, it was that making an enemy out of this young man was unwise. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d provide a better deal than this guild.

“I understand your concerns, Alchemist,” he said, his gaze unmoving, directed right at Iskandaar. “But I’m the Prince of Roshmar. I hope you realize who my great-grandfather was? Due to that legacy, I happen to have more than capable alchemists in my network, ones who can verify the pill’s efficacy and safety. A process like yours might take thirty days; I can do it within the week. No,” he stared at Iskandaar. “Young master, Romani. I can have this verified for you in a single day if you cooperate with me.”

“Ah, that’d be impressive,” Iskandaar replied. Alaric held back a smile. That was a good sign. He was looking interested.

“All I need is access to the formula and distribution rights. And,” he added, letting his voice lower a touch, “I’ll ensure you’ll see returns far beyond what you’re used to here. The royalty share will be far more than anything that this guild can provide you with, and lastly, you don’t have to worry about the paperwork. I’ll take care of everything. Consider that as a favor from a friend.”

The silence in the room shifted. Alaric could feel Reylan’s stiff displeasure, but he didn’t care about some mere Senior Alchemist’s anger. He cared only about the flicker of interest in Iskandaar’s eyes. The young man was making a decision.

Alaric was confident he’d accept this deal. Not only would he receive tons of wealth from this, but he’d also gain power by being the business partner of a Prince. Iskandaar Romani was a smart young man, and so Alaric was sure what his decision would be.

But then, Jana edged forward, her expression a quiet warning as she whispered, “Your Highness, are-” she started, and there was a hint of caution in her voice, not outright doubt, but close enough to irk him. She was unsure if he was making a wise decision. Admittedly, it was a hasty decision. However, the last thing Alaric needed was doubt from his own people. That might make Iskandaar change his mind. So he shot Jana a look sharp enough to say all he needed. She straightened, stepping back into place.

Iskandaar looked at him, a smirk flickering at the edges of his expression, but his eyes held the same edge of ambition Alaric himself felt. Youngest son of Romani… We’re not so different, he and I.

“Deal,” Iskandaar said, extending his hand.

Alaric smiled and took it without hesitation, feeling the weight of this promise settle into something real, something he could build from. The pulse of victory was a tangible thing, heavy and exhilarating. Alaric’s future plans suddenly became much clearer in his head.