Sorin woke to a gentle knock on the laboratory door. "Mr. Kepler?" came Percival's worried voice. "Mr. Kepler, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," rasped Sorin as he picked himself up off the basement's stone floor. He'd been so tired he'd passed out.
On instinct, Sorin assessed his body's situation. His neck was sore from having slept in a slightly off position, but he was otherwise alright. No, I'm better than alright, he thought as he scanned himself from head to toe. Mana was now circulating in his body through his lung and large intestine meridians, filling his arms with a familiar strength.
"Are you sure?" came Percival's voice. "Breakfast is ready if you care to have some."
"I said I'm fine," repeated Sorin. Percival was a wonderful person, but he was also extremely perceptive. Moreover, his work wasn't limited to being his butler and guardian, but also spying on him on behalf of the Kepler Clan.
The two unlocked meridians were the least of the chances in Sorin's body. Most important was his thickened blood, which had jumped up two stages thanks to the infusion of poison and his previous cultivation prior to being crippled.
In fact, his blood contained much more mana than when he'd first started cultivating. This was all thanks to the Ten Thousand Poison Canon. His blood had changed on a fundamental level and now incorporated the essence of the two poisons he'd assimilated.
Sorin's cultivation experiences relied on having a mana sea, but to his relief, controlling the mana in his blood came naturally. A sickly green gas surged out from his hands and formed two orbs. He accustomed himself to the feel of the poisonous mana by twirling the orbs around his fingers, then tossing them up and down before pulling them back into his body.
Having confirmed that his body was functioning better than ever, Sorin walked over to a corner of the room to a humanoid mannequin. He summoned poison into his hand right hand and struck the mannequin with a poison-infused palm. The palm print he left on the mannequin hissed and sizzled. Moreover, the artificial 'veins' on the mannequin turned black as the poisonous mana infiltrated its system.
Sorin took notes as the poison worked its magic on the mannequin. The mannequin was a magic treasure that was more valuable than anything in the manor save perhaps the Divine Medical Codex. I wonder how long I'll get to keep it, thought Sorin. He'd long since memorized the codex, but it was the principle of the thing.
Earning back his physician qualifications was now all but impossible. Physicians required life mana, and few exceptions were ever made. But he still had all his knowledge and training and was able to quantify and analyze the mannequin's symptoms.
"Symptoms are not limited to the lung and large intestine meridian contact points," he muttered out of habit as he took notes. "A poison mutation has likely occurred, creating a compound poison that is stronger than the two originals."
The next test he performed was on a series of test papers that could be used to identify poisons and diseases. He soaked the papers in various test solutions and then flicked a drop of poisonous mana on each of them. Intricate lines appeared on the papers as the poison either consumed the test medium or ran its course.
The results surprised Sorin. Somehow, the poison was much stronger than he'd expected. The sum of both poisons can't possibly be this powerful, he thought as he analyzed the test results. This can only mean one thing: the Ten Thousand Poison Canon not only assimilates and combines poisons, but it also concentrates and amplifies them to scale with my cultivation. He was only a second-stage blood-thickening cultivator. The difference between a second-stage blood thickening cultivator and a tenth-stage blood thickening cultivator was like night and day.
The poisons had definitely merged, but this begged the question: could they be split up again? Sorin urged out another globe of poisonous mana. Then, using his powerful spiritual strength, he split it apart into two separate green globs, one pale and one dark. He performed the same tests as before and discovered that, while they were the same poisons as he'd originally mixed, they were much more potent. Moreover, their quantity was seemingly endless. His body wasn't just amplifying these poisons but producing them on a massive scale.
This both gratified and worried Sorin. Poisons were dangerous and had to be carefully controlled. Using poisons was one thing, but accidentally poisoning innocent people was the gravest of taboos that could result in a cultivator being crippled or killed as an example.
Sorin practiced for several hours before he was satisfied with his new abilities. Not only could he manipulate the poison mana like life mana, but he could also pull it back into his body and relieve poisonous symptoms.
In fact, his abilities weren't just limited to his personal poisons. He tested out a theory with several other poisons and discovered that it was possible to drain poisons into his own body. The downside was that his poison-resistant body would have to suffer the effects of the poisons as he assimilated them.
Like life mana, it was also possible to project a small amount of mana on physical objects. With his strength, a small dagger was the limit. Fortunately, he'd been trained to use daggers for self-defense ever since he was little. He was also experienced enough with needles to throw them at targets at very short range.
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Yet all this was theoretical. In the end, Sorin had been trained and had practiced as a physician. Physicians preserved lives for a living. And now, thanks to the Ten Thousand Poison Canon, he would be ending them.
***
The Adventurers Guild was the busiest location in the Bloodwood Outpost. Adventurers were essential in clearing out the demons of Bloodwood Forest. Only then could lumberjacks peacefully cut down trees and prepare the land for purification.
Unlike the Temple of Hope located on the outskirts of the outpost, the Adventurers Guild was located at the heart of the bustling town just opposite the governor's manor. It was constructed from the demonic bloodwood obtained in Bloodwood Forest and positively reeked of blood and iron.
A steady stream of adventurers poured into and out of the complex, turning in beast cores and beast parts for their corresponding rewards. There were also people turning in herbs or simply providing proof to obtain bounties. All sorts of missions were issued in the Adventurers Guild, some on behalf of the government but others on behalf of organizations or individuals.
The Adventurers Guild was dirty, busy, and chaotic. Not enough soap, and definitely not enough protocols surrounding demonic contamination, thought Sorin as he pushed his way through a mass of adventurers reviewing jobs posted near the entrance.
He felt several pairs of curious eyes settle on his person as he lined up at the reception. Sorin wasn't exactly an unknown figure in the outpost; many adventurers here had either suffered grievous wounds or absorbed too much demonic energy. Adventuring was a dangerous profession that could render you broke if you made the slightest mistake. It was these kinds of people who usually turned up at Sorin's clinic, destitute and desperate for treatment.
"Physician Sorin? Is that you?" said the receptionist when he arrived. She was a dark-haired girl with shoulder-length hair whom he often saw frequenting the bakery a block away from his clinic.
"I'm sorry, it's been a while since we last saw each other," said Sorin. Also, he was terrible with names and didn't bother being coy about it.
"I'm Grettel," said the receptionist. "And I must say that I'm quite surprised to see you here. It's typically your nurses or Gabriella who come here to post requests. Are you in need of some medicinal ingredients or demon parts? Or perhaps you're here to advertise your services?"
Sorin cleared his throat. "Actually, I've come to apply to join the adventurer's association." The room quieted the moment he said these words, and Sorin suddenly wished that he'd come at a less busy time. "Perhaps I should stop by in the afternoon?" he said to Grettel.
"Unfortunately, it's always this busy," said Grettel. "And I'm sorry to say that I can't make exceptions, even for a wonderful physician like yourself. Licensed adventurers must be cultivators. For safety reasons. I'm sure you…" her voice trailed off as Sorin summoned an orb of sickly green mana.
"I've run into a small bit of fortune and recovered a portion of my cultivation," Sorin said to Grettel. "Could I trouble you to sign me up for the next evaluation?"
"I… of course," said Grettel, picking up a stack of papers on her desk and passing it to him. "Actually, it's just an hour from the next assessment. You'll be the sixth person in this assessment group, although you might want to wait till tomorrow." She gave him a meaningful look.
Sorin's eye twitched. As much as he'd love to accept her advice, he'd already attracted too many eyes. It wouldn't be long before others knew Sorin had regained his cultivation. More than enough time for Percival to find out and prevent him from taking the examination.
"The next assessment is fine," said Sorin.
"Then please fill out your information as best you can," said Grettel. "We understand that some of these answers might be difficult to answer; the assessor will fill out the blanks during the assessment process."
Sorin took the stack of paper and moved over to a table to fill it out. Most of the people in the common room were eyeing him strangely and joking about the idea of a physician going adventuring.
They probably can't tell the difference between life mana and poison mana, thought Sorin. Both were green in color, and both were exceedingly rare.
That being said, he did notice a few fearful adventurers glancing his way. They were some of the more experienced adventurers, the kind that made a habit of not running their mouths off about everything.
Name and cultivation level are all straightforward, but this? thought Sorin. What does any of this other stuff even mean? His education as a physician was beyond excellent, but his knowledge of adventuring lacking.
Class, skills, spells, and abilities. These things confused him. From what he knew, adventurers were formal in how they classified cultivators, but Sorin had never paid attention to his tutors, and they had never pressed the matter.
Sorin only had the most basic idea of classes, and he had no idea what his class might be. He wasn't a mage or assassin like most poison-wielding adventurers were, nor could he be classified as a rogue, an archer, or a warrior. If anything, he was a cross between a rogue and a poison mage who could dabble as a field medic.
Unsure of how to proceed, he left this section blank. And when it came to skills and abilities, he just wrote down poison, medical knowledge, and basic martial arts. There was a section for detailed descriptions, but he ignored them. The assessor could worry about that.
The last document to be filled was a contract. Specifically, it was an indemnity contract stating that neither Sorin nor his relatives could hold the Adventurers Guild responsible for his death or any injuries he might suffer. There were also clauses on privacy, but as far as he was concerned, there was no protecting information once it was written on paper.
"Here you are," Sorin said, handing back the papers to Grettel.
"This…" Grettel said, grimacing as she looked at the class and skills section. "You might want to wait until tomorrow. The instructor this time is extremely picky."
"Who's picky?" snapped a sharp voice from behind her. Grettel jumped as the speaker snuck behind with some sort of shadow-related movement technique and grabbed the registration folio and Sorin's information file.
"Look at what we have here," said the speaker with a grin. "Someone who has no idea what they're doing. I think this assessment is going to be a lot of fun. Don't you?"
"Please be kind, Assessor Haley," winced Grettel. "He's a nice boy, and everyone at the guild would be happy to see him come back in one piece."
"I'll see what I can do, but I make no promises," said Assessor Haley. "Now, what are you all waiting for? If you're not lined up in the next ten seconds, you fail!"