"You don't care about your customers at all!"
Such a huge accusation left the Gilded Rose with no way out.
The launch event for Twinmoon Radiance stirred up a frenzy that nearly rivaled the Elixir of Hope. Everyone knew the Berserker Elixir was crafted for swordsmen—the wild surge of power it granted could let a swordsman cast aside rank and stand toe-to-toe with a Greatsword Master.
Moreover, the Berserker Elixir was already rolling off the line in mass quantities...
A lone swordsman might not matter; ten could be handled with effort. But a hundred—two hundred—swordsmen, all downing Berserker Elixir at once? That sudden eruption of raw, terrifying strength would make even a Mage's skin crawl.
At this point, even the harshest critics had to admit—the Berserker Elixir was frighteningly potent.
For a brief moment, many secretly began to worry about the fate of the Gilded Rose...
Almost as if rehearsed, every gaze landed on Farrow.
Everyone was eager to see what this young alchemist—who had just humiliated Hawkins—would do next.
"Of course I've heard of the Berserker Elixir, Grand Alchemist Hawkins. But if you want to exchange techniques, you’ll have to wait a little longer." Farrow’s smile didn’t waver as he led Howes out of the crowd, stepping into the center of the hall beneath the scrutiny of every onlooker.
"Because soon, the Gilded Rose will host an Alchemy Symposium, unveiling two new potions: the Meditation Elixir and the Dragonforce Elixir!"
As soon as Farrow finished speaking, the hall erupted in an uproar...
The Gilded Rose is hosting another Alchemy Symposium?
Many present had attended the last symposium, witnessing firsthand the sensation caused by the Elixir of Hope in Seaview City. Most believed that, no matter how deep the Gilded Rose's resources ran, it would be ages before another symposium came around.
After all, developing and researching alchemical potions usually takes years. Only the old Goldspark Trading Company ever managed to launch a new potion every year.
But how long has it been? A month, maybe two?
"Alchemist Farrow, could you tell us what effects the Meditation Elixir and Dragonforce Elixir have? And who created them?" As soon as Farrow finished speaking, someone couldn’t help but ask—this was real news...
"Alchemist Farrow, what do you need?" Without prompting, Howes hurried to Farrow's side. Making sure no one else was listening, he quietly reminded, "Um, Alchemist Farrow, my name is Howes..."
"Alright, Howes..." Farrow patted the young prodigy on the shoulder. "Everyone, let me introduce Howes, an alchemist and a fifth-rank mage—this is on record with the Alchemist Guild, so you can verify it anytime. Now, I need a swordsman, preferably eighth or ninth rank. Anyone willing to help?"
"Just an alchemist, and you dare to host an Alchemy Symposium?" Hawkins scoffed, his face twisted with contempt and mockery.
Standing in front of him, Howes—who wasn't short to begin with—suddenly looked like a dwarf...
Here, Howes, drink this...
"Alright." Howes didn't know what Farrow wanted, but being able to help his idol was enough—he gulped down the Dragonforce Elixir in two swigs.
"By the way, friend, introduce yourself to everyone." While Howes was drinking the Dragonforce Elixir, Farrow chatted with the burly man who had stepped forward.
Wait a minute...
At that thought, Hawkins suddenly grew wary.
"Alright, Swordsman Bill, how about you spar with our Gilded Rose's fifth-rank mage, Howes, in a moment?"
"Sure, no problem. But Alchemist Farrow, I tend to hit hard—what if I hurt Howes?"
Hawkins immediately regretted his earlier words. To force the Gilded Rose, he'd claimed that even if the results were inferior, they could still trade techniques. Is Farrow trying to exploit that loophole?
Yes, that's very possible.
But maybe that's a bit naive...
Hawkins smirked again, speaking up with mockery before Farrow could get a word in.
Farrow, are you really trying to trade two inferior potions for the Berserker Elixir's formula? Should I call you naive or just stupid? Why can't you realize you're just an alchemist—what right do you have to trade with me? Go look in the mirror and ask yourself if you even deserve it...
Heh, Grand Alchemist Hawkins, you really do have a sense of humor..." Farrow wasn't angry at all. Years at the Blackhorn Auction House had already worn away his sharp edges. When needed, Farrow could smile through any insult—even if someone spat in his face, he'd calmly wipe it away and keep smiling as he discussed the weather.
Of course...
If necessary, Farrow could just as easily spit in anyone's face—Hawkins included!
Alright everyone, before you now is the Dragonforce Elixir." Farrow ignored Hawkins's dark expression, pulling a glass vial from his pocket. Like the Berserker Elixir, it was filled with crimson liquid, gleaming like a flawless ruby. "Let's see what effects the Dragonforce Elixir brings. You—come over here."
"Alchemist Farrow, what do you need?" Without prompting, Haus hurried to Farrow's side. Making sure no one else was listening, he quietly reminded, "Um, Alchemist Farrow, my name is Haus..."
"Alright, Haus..." Farrow patted the young prodigy on the shoulder. "Everyone, let me introduce Haus, an alchemist and a fifth-rank mage—this is on record with the Alchemist Guild, so you can verify it anytime. Now, I need a swordsman, preferably eighth or ninth rank. Anyone willing to help?"
"I'll do it!" As soon as Farrow finished speaking, a burly man stepped forward—about thirty, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, gripping a massive sword nearly as tall as he was.
Standing in front of him, Haus—who wasn't short to begin with—suddenly looked like a dwarf...
Here, Haus, drink this...
"Alright." Haus didn't know what Farrow wanted, but being able to help his idol was enough—he gulped down the Dragonforce Elixir in two swigs.
"By the way, friend, introduce yourself to everyone." While Haus was drinking the Dragonforce Elixir, Farrow chatted with the burly man who had stepped forward.
"My name's Bill, eighth-rank swordsman from the Bull Mercenary Company. Most of those idiots who take jobs at the Mercenary Guild know me—if you don't believe it, just ask around."
"Haha, Bull Bill! Who doesn't know you..." The crowd erupted in good-natured laughter.
"Alright, Swordsman Bill, how about you spar with our Gilded Rose's fifth-rank mage in a moment?"
"Sure, no problem. But Alchemist Farrow, I tend to hit hard—what if I hurt him?"