Chapter Sixteen: Leaving Murong

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Xiao Lan had logged off. I took off my helmet and gave myself a hard twist, realizing it was not just a fleeting dream. Feeling refreshed, I re-entered the game.

The three pieces of equipment dropped by the Bear King were all quite impressive. The Silver Ring, "Roar of the Bear," level 30, increased attack by 5%, with the skill "Roar" (which can reduce the mobility of physical-attack beasts; ineffective if used above level 15; bosses are immune), weight 8. Jewelry drops were ridiculously rare, and a ring with good attributes was definitely a must-have for any serious player.

The Furious Howl Hammer, level 32, required 60 strength, one-handed attack 35-54, two-handed attack 70-102, attack increased by 5%, with the skill "Heavy Strike" (which can deal double damage when hitting a vital spot), weight 65, durability 650/650. The hammer’s high attack and attached skill made it an excellent item for hammer warriors leveling and farming.

Bearskin Vest, level 32, required 25 strength and 35 agility, defense 22-35, dodge increased by 5%, agility +4, weight 20, durability 210/210. It was a good choice for agility-based classes. Compared to other silver equipment drops, these three items would certainly attract attention in the auction house.

The first auction in the imperial city was still three days away. Using my high luck, I farmed more equipment. The consignment shop had a limited customer base; at present, with no teleportation network open, few people traveled from distant towns to buy gear here. Good equipment would fetch a good price at the auction. I had to earn more money to improve my assets. Otherwise, being with Xiao Lan would be too shabby. She might not mind, but I would feel guilty. A man who can’t provide a happy life for the woman he loves was not a qualified man.

Level 31 finally arrived as hoped. Now it took over 12 hours of leveling daily just to gain a level, and after promotion, the experience needed for the first level up doubled compared to the previous, and the next level required 10% more than that. Upgrading would become extraordinarily difficult. I bought two intermediate sword warrior skill books from the skill hall, each costing 150 gold coins—painful to my heart. After learning from the books, two new skills appeared in my skill bar:

Level 2 Sword Technique, intermediate skill, can combine basic sword moves into a three-hit combo. Beginner level, 0/100, increases sword damage by 10%, adds 1% critical strike chance. Next level, increases sword damage by 15%, adds 3% critical strike chance. (Critical strike damage is twice the maximum attack damage.)

Chasing Star Slash, intermediate skill, instantly doubles speed to charge the enemy, 2% chance to stun the opponent for 1 second, requires 5 meters charge distance, lasts 3 seconds, cooldown 2 minutes, cannot be upgraded.

Tonight was the imperial city auction. The few bosses I’d killed in recent days dropped disappointing loot; perhaps the first time a boss is killed results in the best drops. The Black Bear King only dropped a worthless pair of silver boots. Silver equipment had become more common in "Fantasy," but considering the vast number of players, the supply still couldn’t meet demand. Good attribute gear was especially rare, and most silver equipment was concentrated in the hands of a few. This was inevitable since the wealthy had ample resources and manpower—hundreds of minions could farm bosses, and even if they spat, they could drown it. Usually, a few hits from them meant a boss’s demise.

Fairness was only an ideal wherever you went. At the start, even the initial attribute points varied due to different physiques, and now, everyone displayed their unique talents.

To create a relatively fair environment, the AI core and the Fantasy official team had taken many measures, such as experience sharing based on individual contribution, a maximum daily online time of 16 hours, no unrelated assistance during quests, daily trading limits of 2,500 gold coins on the brokerage network, and an official announcement that after the next AI core maintenance, boss strength would adjust according to the number of players fighting it. Of course, it wouldn’t grow geometrically; a group fighting a boss would certainly be stronger than one person. All these measures aimed to balance the ordinary players’ psychology and prevent Fantasy from being dominated by wealthy players, since ordinary players made up the majority.

I withdrew a vast, complicated assortment of collected materials from the bank, only to find they filled my entire backpack with some space to spare. Where did so many come from? I hadn’t paid attention before; these must have cost me a fortune in daily storage fees. Today’s decision to practice alchemy was indeed wise. Ingredients like unripe fruit, Tianqi, black sesame, black chrysanthemum, blacktail grass, silverleaf, coptis, tiger bone, bear gallbladder, and many others—most of their effects and uses I didn’t even know.

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Carrying the full load of materials, I found the alchemy room in a Taoist temple adorned with a large Taiji Bagua diagram above the main door. A middle-aged Taoist in blue robes stood by a furnace that took up half the room, holding a Buddhist whisk, solemnly chanting. His flowing beard and ethereal demeanor gave him the aura of a Daoist immortal. The alchemy room was simply arranged: the large furnace in the center, a waist-high medicine cabinet in the corner plastered with notes about herbs and their uses, a ceramic jar of unknown contents, and no tables or chairs—only a meditation cushion two meters from the furnace.

Using identification magic, I learned the Taoist’s name was Wu Chenzi, a master-level alchemist. Having apprenticed to an old blacksmith before, I didn’t interrupt him rashly but quietly observed, watching his expressions and movements for anything to learn. Unexpectedly, Wu Chenzi wasn’t as pretentious as old men often were; noticing me, he stopped immediately (I suspected he might have been intentionally posing so focused, stopping on a whim), smiling warmly at me. I respectfully said, “Please forgive my intrusion into your cultivation, Master. I would like to learn about the Way of Alchemy.”

The Taoist gently stroked his long beard and kindly replied, “No problem, no problem. It is my duty to enlighten players and teach them.” Cultivators surely had good temperaments. This Master showed no joy, anger, desire, or sorrow—he seemed to possess real wisdom. His gentle voice continued, “The essence of alchemy lies in mastering the secret of the Five Elements. Sharp metal, flourishing wood, distant water, fierce fire, thick earth—these five elements generate and restrain one another in endless cycles. Metal produces water, water produces wood, wood produces fire, fire produces earth, earth produces metal; metal restrains wood, wood restrains earth, earth restrains water, water restrains fire, fire restrains metal. Metal governs offense, wood governs magic, water governs healing, earth governs defense, fire governs force. The quality of a potion depends on how well the medicinal properties of materials are activated. Alchemy refines the essence through the mutual generation or restraint of these properties. Precise control of flame is also crucial: fierce medicinal properties require gentle fire to slow the release of essence, as with metal and fire materials; mild properties require intense fire to stimulate their latent essence, like earth and wood materials; moderate properties require balanced fire, neither fast nor slow, like water materials. True knowledge comes from practice; the subtleties must be experienced firsthand.”

“Thank you, Master. I have learned much.” Had I heard correctly? “True knowledge comes from practice” from a Taoist sounded oddly out of place. The AI core really had a sense of humor.

“You don’t have a furnace yet? Here are all the basic alchemy pots, good quality and cheap—2 gold each, no deception for old or young. Also, various basic materials, the more you buy, the more you save. What are you waiting for?” The solemn Wu Chenzi suddenly turned mercantile. I was speechless.

After buying the necessary tools, Wu Chenzi guided me to the apprentice practice area. I wondered where the other apprentices were—it turned out they all gathered in this courtyard. The small courtyard was paved with blue bricks and now filled with many alchemy apprentices, each with different expressions, some joyful, some sorrowful.

A chubby player was wailing by a cracked furnace, “Oh heavens! Why am I so unlucky? This is the third furnace broken! How come no matter how I use tiger whip and deer antler, I can’t make the Golden Spear Unyielding Pill?” Hmm… I hadn’t thought alchemy could be used for such things! Nearby, a delicate female player choked on smoke from burning wood, her small face covered in soot, pouting and muttering—adorably cute.

Another player laughed skyward holding his furnace, “Haha… after 84 failures, I finally succeeded in making the Rejuvenation Pill. Bitter to sweet at last.” As far as I knew, the Rejuvenation Pill was the lowest-grade red medicine. I wondered how much material that cost. Among them were also middle-aged and elderly players, calmly sitting on meditation cushions with leisurely expressions—a good way to cultivate body and mind.

Finding a vacant spot, I set up my furnace and fire, selected materials according to the basic formula bought from Wu Chenzi, measured carefully, and lit the fire. Basic potions brewed quickly; by noon, my alchemy experience had risen to 132/1000. Experience gain from basic materials was painfully slow, and Wu Chenzi’s “basic materials” were low-level recipes. Intermediate formulas in the medicine room were outrageously expensive. To gain real progress, I had to experiment with new recipes myself. My bag was full of materials; all inventions and innovations came from countless trials and errors, including the formulas currently used, surely the result of many predecessors’ efforts.

Bear gallbladder belonged to wood, with a yin property. Assisting it with water element materials fit the generation cycle—water generates wood. Using intense fire to refine it, I wondered what would result. Trying various strong water-based materials from my inventory yielded no success. The theory shouldn’t be wrong, so maybe the combination of ingredients was off. I used strong water-type assistants, possibly suppressing the bear gallbladder’s potency. Water cotton was a common basic water material. One bear gallbladder, two liang of water cotton, refined together—would it succeed?

After about ten minutes of intense fire, faint blue smoke drifted slowly from the furnace lid, carrying a subtle, fresh aroma. Hey—there’s hope! The furnace trembled slightly as orange-yellow gas rapidly wafted out. Nervously, I watched the furnace, hesitating whether to open the lid early for inspection, afraid of ruining the brew.

Unable to contain myself, I continued heating. After another minute or two, the furnace shook violently, thick crimson smoke caused the lid to jump. Just as I moved to quench the fire and open the lid, there was a loud “bang!” The furnace exploded violently, scattering shards everywhere. Several shards struck me, knocking off about 20 HP. The smoke caused tears and coughing uncontrollably. At that moment, the system notified me: “Congratulations on successfully brewing a new intermediate potion. Intelligence +2, MP +100. Please name your new potion.” Where the furnace had been, lay three peanut-sized brown pills. This was my intermediate potion—functional but visually plain.

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Naming had to be careful. I had learned the hard way about the trouble caused by naming something “Random.” After telling Xiao Yue and others the origin of that name, every time I used that skill, I was mercilessly mocked. After much hardship and eventual success, I named it “Bittersweet.” The system announced: “Congratulations to Blue Bat for successfully brewing the intermediate potion ‘Bittersweet.’ Reward: 100 reputation, 1 charisma.” Checking my stats, my alchemy experience had also jumped by 200.

The loud furnace explosion had already drawn the attention of nearby players, and the system announcement made it impossible to deny. Someone using reconnaissance magic had spotted my name and exclaimed, “Ah, he is Blue Bat from the hero rankings!” Nearby, “Golden Spear” ran over and grabbed my leg, “Master, please share your alchemy secrets! My happiness in this life depends on you!” Disgusting snot and drool smeared all over me.

“Wow, so handsome. Look at his red-rimmed eyes, melancholic and passionate, full of heroic spirit and righteous aura—surely a chivalrous and compassionate hero. Batman, please save my fallen soul; my fragile heart needs your broad chest to warm it, and my beauty needs your keen eyes to appreciate it…” Before the chubby female player with a barrel waist and thick lips could finish, she was trampled by a nearby vomiting player who grumbled, “Being ugly isn’t your fault, but don’t go around pretending to be a beauty queen and scare people. Enough is enough!”

“Blue Bat, how’s your potion’s attributes? Can you share the recipe?” Business secrets, naturally none of your concern.

“Idol, I love you! Please sign an autograph for me.” Speechless… I actually had fans.

“Brother, got any hallucinogens for sale?” Me, such a pure and kind person—do I look like a drug dealer?

...

Struggling with the throng, I used “Random” to flash out. In reality, if I hadn’t been stripped of my clothes, it would have been a miracle. It was just ranking on the hero chart and brewing an intermediate potion—I didn’t have time to be so excited. What was everyone else so worked up about?

I took a pill and swallowed it. A cool sensation passed down my throat and settled in my stomach, like drinking iced herbal tea on a scorching summer day, chilling every organ. Opening my attribute panel, intelligence had increased by 2 points, and MP by 75. Ah, potion effects did diminish when stacked, but this still preserved most of the benefit because it was a different type from the intermediate pills I had taken before.

Fantasy Online.