Count Hubert Moaster called a secret emergency meeting with the other nobles in the area. He didn’t so much as acknowledge the idiot thrown in jail. What kind of a lowlife ingrate openly declares to the world that he’s willing to cheat on his wife just to bed the mayor’s brat? Wanda’s great curved bottom, with him gone, there stood less competitors taking up the score of profits. Or at least, what were profits until those people ruined everything. Especially that potion maker! The noble council had left him to his own devices, shown the youngster and his… wife indirect hospitality, including not running the man’s potion business out of town. After all, even Count Hubert needed the potions. The potion maker had a talent nearly unmatched. Count Hubert had prepared for at least a month with a proposal to recruit him or to try offering an unrivaled stipend. With that kind of talent, the young man held all the bargaining power. Hubert planned on exposing his naïvety, typical of youth, but since he stepped all over the count’s kindness, he was going to find out why commoners stayed in line.
Half an hour later, the nobles were gathered in his meeting room and the discussion began. Numerous arguments made later, and to Hubert’s surprise, some of the nobles went soft on him. They were actually seeing the naïve lad’s point. If the count couldn’t turn things around, more than half of his support network would be lost overnight. He’d rather die than allow that to happen.
However, he had an influence that far exceeded Mundane’s, the person he allowed to be the figurehead and scapegoat, though the sly fox pretended to be understanding, and wasn’t the one punched through a wall. Hubert shuddered. The potion maker denied being a magician, which made sense. Why the hell would a magician subject himself to an F-ranked town? He’d have to be a complete idiot or someone ambitious enough to put even the Peace Spawner to shame.
Not that a simple potion maker could match the man Count Hubert looked up to. He’d never met the Peace Spawner, to his relief, but he respected someone that did what it took to achieve their goal. Even if it meant hurting a lot of people. The potion maker likely had some kind of strength potion and tested it on the unlikely sap that threatened to defile the mayor’s daughter.
But… apprentice? Why was she learning potion making? Perhaps she wanted to profit as well. Maybe the wall-kissing idiot was onto something. However, Hubert made sure to report his words to his wife and ruin his family.
The thought still made him giggle within, watching a family break apart like soft honey cakes.
“Listen up,” Hubert finally said after allowing the arguing to go on for a while. He stood and took his place on the stage. Just because they were in a secret meeting didn’t mean he’d lower his standards. “We’ve lived here for years. Saw its rise, its fall, but even if we do remove our fees, that does not mean the town will suddenly start flourishing again. We provided that ungrateful mayor with funding when the Lord Ruler turned his back on the deep east. I don’t care what you personally feel, let’s stay grounded in reality. The money we fund to keep the town alive needs to be paid back somehow. But even after accomplishing that, we need gains. We’re not a damn charity. The mayor can use all the brute force savages he wants. He can hire fake magicians duping him out of tax funds. But what he’ll never regain is our support without cooperation.” Count Hubert smiled. “I personally don’t blame the mayor. When has he ever given us trouble? He surrounded himself with some troubling individuals, and the longer we allow them to run freely without understanding our rules, the more money we lose. Do you understand?”
“Then what do you suggest?” Mundane asked. “You may think that mysterious group of warriors have a party trick fraud magician in their group, but I’m uncertain that even they can freeze a painting rock solid. The potion maker probably consumed a strength potion, but that only makes him dangerous for any guards we can send to rough him up, give a warning.”
“Paying a group of guards to rough him up a bit is a good idea,” Luffon said. The weasel-like man drummed his fingers against the table for a bit more before widening his eyes in realization of Count Hubert’s potential idea. “You want to hire a magician, perhaps a sect to… take out the trash.”
“Wanda’s buttocks, I don’t think that’s going to work,” a young, dark noble said. “Remember what happened to that sniveling third son of Starrigon? If I’m not mistaken, the Crimson Sect is one of the biggest sects in the kingdom. If they couldn’t have their way, who can?”
“Do you honestly think the people that Starrigon kid hired were true Crimson Sect members?” Count Hubert challenged. “I’ve had my people investigate that foolish boy, even probe him for some answers. He hired breakaways. A lousy demonic cult faction with someone who could barely be considered an officer, only getting the position because his father pulled some strings. The real Crimson Sect members could strike down anyone who so much as look at them wrongly with just a thought. The strongest could use true blood magic, according to my sources.”
“I’m going to have to oppose this foolishness,” another man said, and of course it was the one Count Hubert mentally pleaded with Wanda for to stay silent. His biggest pain in the ass only spoke if he disliked something. Wanda’s rump, he wasn’t even at the meeting, being out of town until just an hour ago. Not that the brats needed to know about this thorn in Hubert’s side.
Tackrum was a large, bearded man with a strict face, stoic attitude, and actual wits, which made his bulky appearance seem like an illusion. However, even he knew the importance of receiving constant returns on an investment. He didn’t agree with the original plan either, but his wife ended up signing the deal in his stead. She, at least, was far more pleasant to talk with, not that Hubert would trust her with his life. Politics were a dirty game of houses between even minor nobles like themselves. Any advantage must be taken, and as ruthlessly as possible. The count would likely have some of his men suggest long term imprisonment for the walled idiot or, if possible, pay to stage an on-road accident. That was, if the right soldiers came.
“I find this ordeal a simple waste of time and, after the meeting you described, why the hell would the mayor change his mind just because you lost your feeble profit stream? Killing the potion maker will only make things worse. So how about acting like business lords for once and find a new income source? Or just move like the rest of the cowards.”
Count Hubert gritted his teeth as he watched more of his support dwindle away, but defeat had not come to greet him yet. He was the leader of this little shadow council for a reason. Not even Tackrum could easily take him down.
“Be as it may, the potion maker and even his little friends are feeding the mayor with terrible ideas that could eventually send this town into a faster death spiral or even end with us kicked out, being blamed for its condition.” That got some hardened stares, so the count continued. “I’m not one for being intimidated by a bunch of naïve brats, but having a direct line to the mayor will serve as a true hindrance to prosperity. To profit. To increasing our personal rankings so that we may one day even rival the Red Star, maybe greater opponents. While the town’s still weakened and with no way of getting funding, we still hold the cards. But first, we’ve got to get rid of the potion maker. There’s no compromise with an outsider whispering false things to the mayor. There’s a powerful rogue magician that lives in seclusion only a day’s walk toward the far east. Bring a sack of gold and he’ll make anyone disappear. I didn’t want to resort to this, because he’s a little crazy.”
“You want to hire Yakrin the Throat Eater? Wanda’s ass, have you lost your mind?” Tackrum snapped.
Count Hubert sneered at the other man. “Be careful with how you address me. Yakrin and I could be considered good friends, for all you know. And he could be sitting among us right now, waiting for my instructions.”
Tackrum paled.
“So, with no objections, we’ll deal with the potion maker and his wife. Burn down his farm. His friends can be dealt with later, but they clearly don’t hold the same voice as their leader, so forget them for now. I think they could use a good example.”
“You’ve done it now,” Tackrum said. “I will have nothing to do with this.”
“I’m afraid the window of leaving is gone, now that you know our plans,” Count Hubert said, a smile forming on his face. That widened into a grin as he watched Tackrum squirm. “That’s right, we’re in this together, like brothers. For profit! The things I do for this town and for you. Now I’m playing all of my cards. Make sure you watch, learn, and appreciate it. Perhaps after this, we will be able to afford a little cinnamon and spices.”
Making ice cream manually wasn’t hard, anyone could do it. With the amount of videos I’ve watched, my movements were pretty much muscle memory by now. Sure, an ice cream machine was far more ideal than doing everything by hand. However, it wasn’t as fast as magic. Good thing Kelvin was an ice magician. With him, I made some adjustments to make the treat even better. We ended up creating many flavors from blueberry, to blueberry pie, to honey cake, and I even managed to get as close to vanilla as I could using various herbs. However, when I mentioned cinnamon, Iris revealed something shocking.
“Cinnamon and vanilla are found in a few places, but a single company has control of the supply and charge outrages prices per ounce,” Iris said.
“Goddammit,” I said, voice defeated. Ronica patted my back cheerily before dipping her spoon back into her cup of ice cream.
Okay, System, I’ve never asked about the reason I’m able to understand these people, I thought. I assumed an automatic translation ability. But the ounces now?
[You must discover the answers for yourself. System primary quest generated. Purpose.]
[Spending time with your friends and realizing the vastness of the world has made you begin to ponder on your very own purpose.]
No it didn’t, System. I’m still aiming to be the best goddamn potion maker in existence, I thought. As soon as I raised the rank of my shop.
[Primary quest: Purpose. Progression: 1%. From becoming a true teacher to your students, to raising your shop from utter trash. All of these things are heavy but serve as parts to an unknown greater purpose. Reward for completion: Unknown. There is no time limit on this quest, as it could take years.]
Why… did it begin with one percent? I checked my stat sheet and there it was. Unfortunately, it didn’t provide any additional information, leaving me to tread blindly.
That night, Milia and I meditated outside with the spirit beasts. Something about the night felt perfect for it. After the dryad declared she wouldn’t allow me to leave her behind, she practically jumped me the moment I mentioned meditation. For some reason, the elicrones joined us, but only for a short while before they went back to their coop. Instead, I focused on the meaning of the Dao of Creation, the consequences of my actions and, adding to that, my overall purpose.
Honestly, I didn’t think I was going to make a great master at first, but as time passed, I realized I had a lot to teach the brats, too much. New things continued to pop up and I figured, what the hell.
The same life skills Pops taught me, I wondered if I could pass it down to the three. There was also something for me to learn through them. But what? I hadn’t figured it out yet. I had a level of respect and hope for the teens that somewhat reminded me of myself when I was their age. Harmony’s craving to help people was a mirror to even my current self. Lucas’s desire to work hard. Mandi’s willingness to learn with odds stacked against her.
I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell they even saw in me. No, if I question that for Milia, I’d shrink my confidence just a little.
I felt like I pushed the Dao just a bit. More time to truly gain the level of spirituality it required should give me the final push to the next stage.
If I could create fucking summoning potions at this state, summoning dragons, then there was no reason why my ranking problems couldn’t be solved. That or I accidentally create something not meant for this world.
The thought made me shudder, but also chuckle. No one would believe me if I told them what the peak of a potion maker class may look like.
Wolverine opened his eyes after a good while, his mana core filled with the purest energy this land could offer, though he suspected it was due to being so close to Best Buddy and Mistress Milia. He watched them, eyes widening when a golden glow enveloped his master, like the caress of the warm sun or, as Wolverine liked to call it, the bright ball of life.
“Psst, Big Brother Woofy.”
Wolverine turned to see the kitten looking down at him from atop of Beakwing’s head.
“What is it, Disciple Cheetara?” he asked as he rose onto his paws. Being within the vicinity of both Best Buddy and Mistress Milia made the sunlight wolf cub’s tail wag nearly involuntarily.
“I see you,” she said, then giggled.
Wolverine stared at her, before chuckling himself. “You spoil her, Disciple Beakwing,” he said, though the big griffin only laughed.
“You spoil her more,” Beakwing said. “It is hard not to when she perfectly executes everything we teach her. Most of the time.”
“That’s because she practices relentlessly,” Wolverine said. “We’d better step it up before she surpasses us.”
Cheetara hopped from Beakwing’s head to Wolverine’s back, though he didn’t feel a thing, demonstrating her superior control over her mana, body, mind, and outputted strength. Whenever she got old enough to take on a better cultivation path, Wolverine predicted she could potentially push into the fabled SS-rank.
Not that it’d be that simple. Her path would have requirements, and she’d have to evolve not just herself, but also her core. Even Wolverine still felt a little confused on where to go. If not for Beakwing’s advice, the sunlight wolf would have to do everything the hard way due to the lack of parents.
Then again, Best Buddy would likely step in to teach the disciples more.
“I feel the time in which we will be strongly needed is coming very soon,” Beakwing said, which alarmed Wolverine. As a magical beast with plenty years of experience in the mana arts, his words couldn’t be taken lightly. Something was about to happen, and the sunlight wolf wanted to lead the charge against this unseen enemy. He leapt onto the roof, allowing his nose to accept the winds of fate.
The first thing he always checked for were signs of any approaching rolly-rollies. Sometimes he’d hear their accompanying neighing giants long before the rumbling set in.
“Are we going to do battle with a magician, Big Brother Woofy?” Cheetara asked as she appeared at his side.
“Perhaps,” Wolverine said. “Let it be the chance to show off your skills.” He chuckled. “If you can keep up with me, little Disciple.”
A look of determination burst into the kitten’s eyes. “Just watch me!”
I don’t know what got into my pets, but they seemed both excited and determined when I left the meditative state.
Damn, did I feel amazing. I wasn’t sure what kind of crazy effects the forest poured into the area or if Milia did something, but the rest of the pain vanished.
“Wolverine, Cheetara, Beakwing,” I said, gaining their adorable stares. “I’m proud of you.”
I still don’t know if they understood my words or felt my true feelings, but the spirit beasts held looks of pride in their eyes. Wolverine howled, his tail wagging. Beakwing let out a noise of what felt like victory or cheerfulness. Cheetara hopped into my arms, purring as she rubbed against my chest.
I did not want to go back to Earth. Fuck that. Aside from getting my ass handed to me by Andros and maybe the fallen angel, or having the system tell me that the shop I worked so hard on was nothing more than an E-ranked trash heap, life felt amazing here.
Wolverine rubbed against my leg. Beakwing bowed! I gave the adorable griffin a head pat. Of course, I wasn’t the only one they showed love to. The pets went straight to Milia, making sure she couldn’t get left out.
“They are a true blessing, Nate,” Milia said as she caressed the purring Cheetara. “We must never forget that. Soon, when you feel that they’re old enough, you’ll have to get serious with their training.”
“Oh, I’m serious,” I said as I pulled Wolverine into my embrace, petting my wolf. “Wolverine has fought with us since the beginning. Half-assing his training isn’t an option.”
Wolverine clearly approved, licking my cheek in his excitement.
The late summer night felt perfect with two bright, beautiful moons gazing down at the family. Stars dotted the skies and I could see the light of the sleepy town of Kyushu from afar.
I made yet another vow to work harder, prove myself to be a real master and a real head of a household.
