The Demon Lord And His Hero Chapter 16
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Syryn studied Salem and received the same amount of scrutiny from the other alchemist.
At a single glance, anyone could tell that the older alchemist had elf blood running through his veins. The ears looked human but it was his other features that gave it away. Butter smooth skin the colour of milk that had a dewy, healthy glow. The same lean and tall build that all elves possessed. And he too was a blonde like Rowan but where Rowan was a rich gold, Salem's hair was a pale blonde, almost white.
Light golden brown eyes examined Syryn. "I sense an illusion on you. Are you secretly an old geezer?" The half-elf spoke with an exotic elvish accent that did wonders to the words that came out of his lips. Syryn was sure that he could have spat out the nastiest sounding words in any known language and it would still have sounded like a love poem when filtered through the mouth of the half-elf.
"That's none of your business."
"I could undo the illusion right now. What are you hiding?" He pressed in closer to Syryn and demanded in a very alluring tone. Going by the frown on the blonde's face, Syryn was quite sure that the half-elf wasn't trying to seduce him.
"You really want to know?"
"Yes."
"I'll show you what I'm hiding if you win the competition. But if you lose, you'll have to give me that." Syryn pointed to the black ribbon that held back Salem's silky blonde locks. It was enchanted to never slip out of his hair. Magic like that, Syryn couldn't perform. Humans and demons alike were masters of elemental sorcery. Elves on the other hand were experts at illusions, enchantments, psy powers, and other spells that required a different kind of fine control.
The half-elf cocked his head confidently at Syryn. "It's a deal."
"Competitors, please approach the altar one by one. There are 5 potions on the altar. 4 of those are poisonous and will kill you if you don't take an antidote as soon as the poison has entered your body. However, the 4th potion is the antidote! Can you identify the antidote hiding amongst the poisons? Drink two of the potions and stay alive to make it to the next trial. Make sure you don't double dose yourselves with poison or there will be no turning back! You'll each get 2 minutes to examine the potions so good luck and safe drinking!"
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From what could be seen, the liquid in each phial looked exactly the same, a beautiful rose pink colour. Syryn was number 19 in the queue and Salem was at 20. They watched the first man examine the potions.
"Your two minutes are up. Please pick one and drink or step aside and leave."
It seemed he valued his life more than money. The man walked away. The same happened to the second, third, fourth, fifth till the sixth alchemist who drank two potions and passed out. Fortunately for him, there were healers on standby.
"Damn, this year is rough," Vincent complained. "I hope that kid is gonna be alright."
With the success of two alchemists, Syryn's turn came upon him. He walked to the potions and scarcely glanced at them before picking the first one and chugging it like water. A collective gasp ensued quite loudly from the audience. Syryn then drained the second potion completely and walked away without any harm done.
Everyone, including Salem, watched the boy return to his position without a ripple in his eyes. Guts! He had guts! Even Salem wasn't sure he wouldn't check twice before drinking.
Who was this little boy? Salem wondered as he took a sniff of the potions in his hands.
"Did you see that?" Vincent was Unnaturally excited.
"I have eyes, Vincent."
"Was that luck or is he just that good?!"
Rowan wondered too. How could he tell at one glance which was poison and antidote? He was now more interested in the boy's identity.
On the opposite side of the arena, Alka sat like a statue but he was internally panicking. Were demons immune to poisons? Was Syryn going to be alright?
"Luci, your brother is going to die," Magnus informed Lucien. At the boy's horrified expression, the mage grinned and patted Lucien on his head. "Just kidding."
Meanwhile, Salem had successfully poisoned and cured himself. A mild stomach ache was unavoidable due to the potions in his stomach fighting hard.
"What's your name?" The half-elf asked.
"Syryn. Yours?"
"Salem."
How Syryn had identified the antidote so quickly only he knew. The truth of the matter was that Syryn's demonic half protected him from most poisons. The potions that could hurt him were all made of rare ingredients which would never get wasted at a competition. Syryn simply drank two random potions because it was easier that way. Was it cheating maybe? Did he care? Not at all.
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Out of the 48, only 6 of them were left now.
"Competitors, congratulations. You've made it to the third trial. As you can see, there are 6 medium grade cauldrons in front of you. Each of you will be given a unique basket of ingredients. You have to identify what potion is to be made based on the ingredients given to you. Everything has been perfectly weighed and measured so good luck finding out what it is! The judges will score your potions based on their purity and grade. You have a quarter of an hour!"
Syryn catalogued his ingredients and came to his conclusion. An ounce of tranquillity, his mind supplied. That was his potion.
Syryn and Salem were the first to present their products to the judges. Syryn's phial was uncorked and examined by the three judges.
"What a beautiful colour!"
"It smells like a valley breeze, this is an outstanding potion."
"Purity at 87%! That's higher than what can normally be accomplished through the use of a medium grade cauldron. Who is your teacher, child?"
"Horace, this is a competition! Let's save the poaching for later, shall we?" The distinguished-looking woman reminded her fellow judge. She smiled at Syryn and declared, "You have qualified for the final trial."
Salem's potion was a per cent higher in purity but the colour was off. Even so, the potion was judged to be of excellent quality.
The two successful alchemists waited till a third competitor joined them, an older man in his 50s.
The moderator then coughed awkwardly and made an announcement. "To the young boy in the competition, another competitor has made an accusation of dishonesty and cheating against you. According to the rules of the competition, he has the right to challenge you at a test decided by the judges. Do you accept? I repeat, a -"
"I heard you," Syryn loudly replied. "Who the hell is the bastard challenging me? Get out here right now."
"It is I." A man came forward.
"What do you know? It's old meaty lips." Syryn said it loud enough for the ones in front to hear.
In the audience, Alka took a closer look at the man. "Old meaty lips? He's right, those lips can feed a family of 5 for a week."
"Alka, there are some things that shouldn't be said."
Old meaty lips sneered at the name and once again opened his mouth, "I request an impartial third party to set the test. I'm afraid that the integrity of the judges has been compromised seeing how far the cheating candidate has been allowed to progress."
"How dare you!" Horace stood up to protest. To cast light upon their integrity was just insulting their good reputations.
Before the situation could devolve, a voice was heard. It was like the sweet cry of a summer Oriole. "Peace, everybody, please refrain from turning this esteemed competition into a mockery."
It was princess Lilith. She was as stunning as the last time Syryn had seen her. In fact, she was even more beautiful than when he had last set eyes on her.
Youth was a good look on the lovely princess with the silver eyes that Eos had blessed. Future priestess of Eos that she was, Lillith had powers that were bad news for Syryn.
"If all parties are in agreement, allow me to test the skills of the disputing competitors." Lillith raised her head and declared. Syryn wanted to refuse but everyone else had already accepted her proposition.
"Good. I have just the right potion that I need you two to make. Brew for me the highest grade of fortifying potion that your skills allow."
Easy, Syryn thought. As long as he didn't do anything suspicious, there would be no reason for Lillith to pay him any attention.
But then Lillith went a step further, "To test the efficacy of the potion, I can only request the one person whose taste buds demand only the best. Rowan Windwalker, please join us."
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The Demon Whisperer
Derb was eccentric. No, not in as he had perception beyond those his age, or was smarter in a way that was "unique" to him. No, Derb was strange because he always chose terrible ways to go about things without second-guessing. Always confident in his decision regardless of the outcome. Needless to say, he wasn't very smart. He managed in his life with his rather disgusting amount of luck. Luck that would prove useful, as he suddenly found himself in the middle of the forest. A world where decisions held much more consequences, where he could stand to lose everything. What would someone like him do in this situation?
8 132Everlasting Mage
Meet Matt~ Oh Magical Matt. He used to be a magician street performer. But after a one-stone-petrifying encounter with real magic, everything about his life changed. Now, he is an immobile statue that can't do shit about his life while time erodes by itself. Magic is his only way to go, and he is going to learn everything no matter how long it takes. But the question still remains, will it make him or break him?
8 184Fate/Defiance
Reincarnated into the Nasuverse as Icarus during the Age of the Gods. Will this new Icarus carve his own legend into the Throne of Heroes or end up like he was destined, reaching for the sun…..only to fall short of his ambition? This is a fanfiction that takes place in the Nasuverse, a franchise that relates to works by the company TYPE-MOON, such as Fate/Stay Night, Fate/Grand Order, and Tsukihime. Update Schedule is once every Sunday.
8 140Apocalypse The Fantasy
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8 168Xenonia: The World of swords and blood
In the world of Xenonia, a stoic girl by the name of Yukina Sako struggles to find her place in the world riddled with monsters made from the corrupted souls of man, gang wars and other such atrocities that plague the star. This one Vulpian blacksmith has one goal. To become the greatest blacksmith that ever lived and to help the denizens of Xenonia...or that was her goal...
8 97THE SANDLOT preferences
Some small stories about you (the reader) with the sandlot members.What I will write:PreferencesOne shots Send me any suggestions that you would like to see🤗 THE MORE COMMENTS AND VOTES THE MORE I WRITE!!! Please do not steal my work!
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