Azrael carried Alena through the forest towards the village, stumbling a bit every now and then. Yes, he was stronger than an average human thanks to his stats, but Alena was no light weight and they’d been constantly engaging in combat all day. He was tired, he was covered in dirt and most of all he was worried about Alena.

Thanks to the soul link with Alena, as well as the [Status] he’d granted her as {Master of Status}, he was able to see that she was suffering from mana overdraw. No doubt her exhausted stamina also played a large part in her current state, but he remembered his own experiences with expending all of his mana – or rather, lack of, considering that he was unconscious afterwards.

So, while he was worried, he wasn’t too worried. He was going to take her to the village though. It was currently closer to their position, than his own cabin, and he wanted to see if any of the villagers had a way to help her regain consciousness. For all he knew mana overdraw was fatal for non-players.

At the edge of the village, the first person he met was the old matron. She was working in the fields with a hoe, but stopped when she noticed him exit from the forest.

“My Lo…” she began to greet, before noticing Alena in his arms.

Her brow furrowed as she took in the situation. Him, holding Alena. Alena still clutching her dagger in a death grip and both of them caked and covered in dirt, soil and leaves. She sighed and turned to walk towards the houses, leaning her hoe against a wooden post.

“Follow me.” She said, without offering him another glance.

Her attitude irritated him a bit, but at the same time he was impressed. Out of all the villagers, she was the only one who didn’t treat him as the Lord – as someone special. While his pride was slightly offended he couldn’t help but hold some measure of respect for her. Despite being one of the first villagers and having witnessed his destructive capabilities, his magic and his might, she did not back down or change her attitude. Noticing that she’d already covered a fair distance he hurried after her, careful not to step on any of the planted crops.

To his surprise though she did not lead him to her house but to a different, slightly larger one. She knocked, before stepping back.

It was Kalen who opened the door, the budding artificer glancing at him and the matron nervously. She either ignored his anxiousness or didn’t notice it.

“Is Elara home?” she asked.

Kalen nodded his head quickly, still too nervous to be able to bring out any words. He opened the door to allow them in and as the Matron strode past him he finally noticed Alena in Azrael’s arms. His mouth mad a shape of surprise, before he hurried in after the Matron in an effort to get out of Azrael’s way.

“Elara!” he called through the house, “It’s Alena. She’s fainted again.”

“Again?” Azrael wondered. Still, he followed Kalen down a narrow corridor into what he could only assume was Elara’s room.

He hesitated at the doorway. Not because it was a girl’s room, but because of the overpowering smell of dried herbs and woodsmoke.

“Get in” the matron commanded, pulling him in by his arm.

When she realised that she wouldn’t be able to move him like that she pointed to Elara’s bed.

“Put her on that.” She ordered. “You look like you’re about to drop her.”

Azrael put his apprentice onto the bed, before sitting down next to her and taking the chance to properly take in the room.

The room was relatively small, built completely out of wood. Wooden walls, wooden door and even a raised wooden floor – instead of the usual hardpacked earth that most of the other houses had. For a ‘medieval’ villager’s house it was probably extremely extravagant. The fact that Elara had a raised bed, a wooden bench and a single wooden stool in her room made it doubly so. Though his villagers took care in building their houses, this was no modern society. Most homes had a main room and a side room. Elana, as a child had her own room. Kalen no doubt as well.

What made Elara’s room different to almost every other one in the village wasn’t the raised wooden floor and wooden desk though. It was the dozens of bundles and pouches of dried herbs that hung on a rack on her ceiling, as well as the mortar and pestle and small clay brazier.

Right now Elara was opening a small wooden box that she’d stored under her bed and taking something out with care. It was a single small broad, bright teal coloured leaf. He recognised the unique leaf instantly. It was the one that grew in the clearing around his house.

Azrael opened his mouth intending to ask what she was doing with it. Instead, something else slipped out.

“How do you have that?”

Elara suddenly looked very afraid, perhaps realising that the item she held was something that was only attainable at the very place he’d forbidden them to go. While he didn’t feel as strongly about it now as he might have when the village was first founded, he didn’t like the idea of people snooping around his house, much less while he was away and unaware of their presence.

It was the matron who stepped in, placing herself between Azrael and Alena. In the small room it put her right in his face.

“Alena gave it to her, so sit down and let the girl do her job. It’s no use worrying over everything like a worried parent.”

“I’m not… I wasn’t… urgh.”

Azrael tried to defend himself, but something about the older woman made it really hard to keep up the image he wanted to project. Whether it was because she was old enough to be his grandmother, or because of her no-nonsense attitude, he didn’t know. In the end he stepped aside to let Elara do what ever she needed to do and seated himself at the foot end of the bed. In silence he watched Elara grind up the single leaf in her pestle, before scooping out the mushed leaf and mixing it in a cup with some water. The young girl picked up the cup and brought it to Alena’s lips, before stopping and looking at him fearfully for permission. He nodded.

Based off of what Kalen had called out to Elara earlier, this wasn’t the first time Alena was here due to overdrawing her mana. If that was the case, and nothing had gone wrong the first few times, he doubted anything would happen here. Still, he was curious about what they were doing. A way to counteract mana overdraw was probably something he might need in the future.

“How does it work?” he asked the matron.

It was Elara who responded.

“Alena and I found that by eating ghost mint –“

“Spirit mint?”

“T-the, uh plant.”

Azrael cast [Craftman’s Eye] on one of the leaves in the small wooden box.

Partially Dried Spirit Mint

A partially dried teal coloured, mint flavoured herb that restores a small amount of mana when ingested. Due to the crude drying process it has lost part of its efficacy.

Azrael frowned, recalling what [Craftman’s Eye] had previously shown him.

Unknown Herb

An unknown herb with teal-coloured leaves that is naturally saturated with mana.

Was it because he now knew the name, or because he was examining a partially refined material, instead of the growing plant that the information had changed? Realising that Elara though he was frowning at her he quickly asked the next question, skipping most of her explanation.

“How did you know that it helps mana overdraw?” he asked. Overdraw and restoring mana were similar, but there was still a leap of logic required to jump the gap between the two ideas.

This time it was the matron that replied.

“When I was a child there used to be a shamanness in our village. She used to grow a few sprigs of spirit mint in her garden, feeding it with her mana. Whenever she got really exhausted from her workings she would eat one of the leaves and it would help her. I’d seen Alena and Elara testing the herb at the status plate when Alena first got her [Shadow Cloak]”.

During the explanation Elara had finished feeding Alena the spirit mint water, but his apprentice still wasn’t stirring.

“Did it fail?”

Elara shook her head.

“Usually, it takes a while. Especially when she’s kept up her [Shadow Cloak] for a long time.”

Azrael nodded, and settled back down on the bed. To avoid the awkward silence he turned to observing the small wooden workbench, taking in the tools, the herbs, the mortar and pestle and various containers out of ceramic or wood. One small container especially – a ceramic vial – caught his attention. The vial itself was stoppered, but [Craftman’s Eye] let him see the contents.

Novice’s Crude Mana Potion

This liquid has been boiled with mana rich substances, imbuing it with a small amount of mana that can be absorbed when ingested. It has been made by a novice alchemist and has lost a lot of its potential potency.

Azrael didn’t care much for the description, instead focusing on one part of the name ‘Mana Potion’.

He rose from the bed, his inner gamer squealing with glee. A Mana Potion! In a world where there’ mana, there had to be mana potions. It was a fantasy staple! Walking over to the table he summoned several wisps of flame in the air, the mostly uncontrolled mana burning in ever-shifting golden veils of flame. Elara and the matron both le out small squeaks of surprise as the sudden heat and light. He ignored them, watching his mana tick down in his [Status]. Finally, after he felt he’d expended enough he unstoppered the vial and sniffed it. It smelt of mint. He tipped it into his mouth, Elara making a sound of protest. It was too late though, the minty liquid rolling down his throat. He kept his [Status] window open and watched his mana.

MP: 390/400

MP: 391/400

MP: 392/400

MP: 394/400

MP: 395/400

He could actively feel the mana flowing through him and into his reserves, however faint it was. It did however only top up five of his total four hundred points in his mana pool. Still, five was a tenth of his mana pool when he’d started the game.

Azrael looked at the empty vial for a moment longer, before turning his gaze, and [Lord’s Insight] onto the dismayed young girl.

Name: Elara

Class: Villager (Lv. 3), Herbalist (Lv.2), Alchemist (Lv.1).

“How did you make this?”