“How fares your brewing, Herald?” Paritor said, his words barely audible over the piercing squeals of decaying armored boars getting chomped by literal fiery hounds.

“Going along nicely,” I replied, all smiles. I wasn’t sure if he heard me. The monsters were so loud.

Blighted Swine Lords were level thirty-two, only a few levels above mine. The level gap penalty wouldn’t be too much bother. Furthermore, the Swine Lords came in droves—perfect for level leeching.

Paritor cast buffs, debuffs, and heal spells in safety behind his giant toad pet as the battle raged on. Swirls of blue and violet shimmers flowed to him and me in equal parts.

More decaying boars rolled out of the tunnels, colossal boulders of bony plates and bristles, their corded muscles apparent even under their thick purplish-tinged fur. They crashed into barriers generated by the flaming spirit toad. They then unfurled their ball forms like an armadillo, revealing massive bodies on squat legs, brandishing spear-like tusks. They gored the Asipu hounds and axe-wielding goblins.

Some of the goblins died. The hounds taunted the Swine Lords and held them. Paritor resummoned his felled spirits and sent them back to the fray with full buffs.

“That is good to hear,” Paritor said. “Have no worries. No enemy will reach and disturb you, that I promise.”

I wanted to give him a Kezo-level thumbs-up, but my arms were locked in automatically making [Frigid Yew Salve], crushing ingredients into a paste. I was far from attaining a hundred percent success rate in crafting, but I had a particularly good streak with mostly successful attempts.

Was Paritor my lucky charm?

[ Received: (4) Frigid Yew Salve ]

Frigid Yew Salve | Item Level: 15

Epic | Consumable | No Requirement

Derived from the cursed toxin that permeates the seeds, leaves, and bark of the hoarfrost yew tree, this potent healing ointment restores 5% of Maximum Health per second for six seconds while inflicting Silence on the user, preventing usage of all skills for the duration. However, Arcane Brewers found a way to extend the defensive properties of the hoarfrost yew tree to the user, granting a 25% chance to Freeze enemies that deal direct damage while the Salve is in effect.

“Thanks again, Paritor!” I shouted back. “I’ll give you some of these later.”

“There’s no need for compensation. It’s my pleasure to help!”

The pleasure’s all mine, I was about to answer. But that sounded wrong—wrong but correct.

I was raking in all the benefits here. I leeched Essence and Gli from the monsters Paritor killed while I brewed consumables to level my Akhos Poison Research Ocadule. Is making ointments considered brewing? I turned on the automated setting, so my concentration was on researching auras. Most importantly, I was getting Blighted Tokens with zero effort!

Such a good man, this Paritor, for carrying me.

I suppose his benefit was to serve me. So, he was right all along that it was his pleasure to do so.

After our party committed to completing the recipe of the cure-all potion and using it to find other Mardukryon tribes or maybe even escape the mountain, we parted ways. We’d been online for hours, and the others had commitments. One by one, they logged out of the game.

I stayed behind, mulling over what to do next. The cure-all potion that Bawu made reminded me of her sister, Healer Gula.

Prisoner Gula, to be more accurate. I forgot to visit her in prison, even if I had promised to do so. Oops.

Funny how I kept forgetting about people in dire situations, like those village guards that Bawu had kidnapped. Another batch of guards also got captured after the first group. I failed to rescue any of them.

Maybe that wasn’t exactly right. ‘Failed’ implied that I tried—but I didn’t.

In my defense, they were NPCs, so they didn’t stick in my mind. I wasn’t genuinely this self-centered, was I?

Well, I am.

But I hadn’t forgotten people in prisons or laboratories of mad scientists in the real world. That was what I’d like to think. If I did forget, I wouldn’t recall it anyway. Pointless to fret about it, then.

Gula was in prison, so she wasn’t going anywhere. I could visit her later. Surely, she wouldn’t die or mutate into some horrible abomination. If she survived as Bawu’s sister for more than a couple of centuries, she could survive prison for a couple of days until I was free to visit her again.

For now, I had to continue farming Blighted Tokens. It was the last day of the event, and I wanted to buy an item or two from the limited-time shop before the supply of Tokens disappeared. There might be a cheap Skill Shard or gear my unboxlike brain could find helpful in getting hard.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I decided to pull an all-nighter MCO session to farm as many Blighted Tokens as possible because I’d be occupied with family matters tomorrow. This’d be my first time staying up all night to play since my Vanguard Gaming days. Quite nostalgic. Not too different from burning the midnight oil for work, though this was much more fun.

However, a ‘gaming hangover’ the following day wouldn’t be fun. As bad as those from drinking.

I returned to the village to buy ingredients. The plan was to AFK-level the easier Blighted missions while brewing, hitting many birds with one Stone—Herald Stone.

My Aritu Form Ocadule Ranking up reminded me not to forget the progress of Bawu’s Akhos Poison Research Ocadule. My fresh and only twice used [Healing Embrace] would undoubtedly contribute to the team and me… mostly to me. Unlocking a new Akhos skill or recipe might also be helpful for the Great Hunt.

To my delight, the auction house was stocked with Hoarfrost Yew materials—their seeds, leaves, and bark. I could make [Frigid Yew Salve] instead of [Morabodry] to level my Akhos Ocadule faster. The higher the item level made, the bigger the experience for Ranking Crafting Ocadules. [Morabodry] was only a level ten item, while [Frigid Yew Salve] was fifteen.

“The enemies have ceased spawning,” said Paritor. “We proceed to the next cave. Or do you prefer to stay here? I believe we’ll still divide the Essence and Gli since we’re in one dungeon.”

“I’ll go with you.” I canceled my automated brewing, returned my paraphernalia to my inventory, and stood up. I didn’t want it to look like I was treating him like a servant. Herald Stone the Leech was the Servile Servant of the People.

“Do you still have plenty of crafting materials? Don’t hesitate to alert me when you need to restock.”

“Probably in an hour, I’ll run out. I didn’t buy many because I don’t have much Artas.”

That was a lie. I bought plenty of materials to craft both recipes available to me. I was just hoping Paritor would do the honor of giving me Artas.

I needed to refill my [Morabodry] stocks for my use and to sell to Clement. If I could market [Frigid Yew Salve] to him, too, it’d be great because I barely used the piles I had. Not sure if people would buy them. Most would probably prefer straight-up health potions.

Hoarfrost Yew materials used to be scarce because only a few players farmed them. They were also ingredients for many potions, so the meager stocks at the auction house used to be immediately bought out. Returning old players must be farming Hoarfrost Yews, flooding the market, and lowering prices. In time, those items would get even cheaper as new players would reach the orchard of the demon trees. Amusing that Hoarfrost Yew materials became readily available because of the world quest, while the other two ingredients of [Frigid Yew Salve] got harder to find.

Many NPC Miners had died or were injured during the collapse of the cliff wall, and those able to work were busy digging out the caved-in minor tunnels after the main one. Eventually, I was able to find one of them who had [Amberite] to sell.

My source of [Small Tin], the container for the salve, was [Lvl 36 Mardukryon|Shopkeeper: Arakmad], forever trapped by his mountains of items for sale. His shop was on the cliff walls south of the main village, and I expected that he would get buried during the collapse. He did say that he wouldn’t leave his shop even if he’d die.

A happy ending for him if he got his wish, but not happy for me because I didn’t know where to get brewing supplies.

Fortunately, and also very surprisingly, he made it out alive. I tried looking for him amongst the refugees in the camp that used to be the hangout spot of Mirdabons, just a half-hope. Behold, he was there! My Heraldic Senses were right.

Arakmad’s tent of sewn-together tapestries was filled to the brim with his wares. I wouldn’t even call it a tent—more like a wide piece of fabric draped over a pile of junk. And amidst it, Arakmad somehow got himself trapped again. That was his problem—to him, it wasn’t one—so I just bought my supplies and left.

“I’ll stay right here,” I told Paritor, sitting by the mouth of the cave as he ventured inward. “I won’t get in your way, and I can help you if the going gets tough.”

“This level of challenge isn’t enough to overwhelm me,” he replied, thumping his chest with his arm carrying a small buckler.

“Oh, by the way. Just tell me when you’re leaving. I can continue on my own. It’ll be slower, of course, but I’ll be fine.” With that, Paritor couldn’t leave soon, even if he wanted to.

“I will keep my promise to aid you reach level twenty-nine,” he said. “Yes, I believe you’ll fare well on your own too, perhaps on par with your current rate given that we’re dividing the Essence and Gli. But if you do lower-difficulty missions, you’ll obtain fewer Blighted Tokens.”

“You’re a great help, Paritor,” I said, giving him the thumbs-up I couldn’t earlier. More Blighted Tokens was another bird to my stone. That didn’t sound right, either.

“How’s the progress of your experience bar?”

“Still a long ways to go. I had just leveled to twenty-eight.”

“I’ll commence engaging the enemy now,” Paritor said, trotting off. I had never figured out if his way of speaking was actually like that or if the system wonkily translated his language. His summons also charged forward, waking the Blighted Swine Lords in ball form. “Happy brewing!”

It had been an hour since the leeching session started, and we had already completed five of this Blighted Swine Lord quest—it was a fairly straightforward monster extermination mission.

I met Paritor while touring the village. I didn’t immediately go to the Chief’s Lodge to get a mission because the increased hustle and bustle of the village caught my attention. There were more Hunter-Warrior NPCs than before. Several led six-legged beasts of burden, pulling carts piled high with supplies for the Great Hunt into the tunnels and presumably to the other side. Sigil Totems probably didn’t work on them.

Paritor was by the merchants. At first, he tried to hide from me among the crowd, but I eventually caught up to him. He confessed that he wanted to grind more to get stronger for the party. I told him that I aimed for the same thing. A sob story about how slow it was to level a tank and some guilt-tripping later, and he offered to help me.

“This is way faster than if I did it alone,” I said, “even if we’re dividing Essence and Gli.” I watched the experience bar of my Akhos Ocadule as it filled the last few slivers to Rank up.

[ Unlocked: Akhos Arcane Poison Research Ocadule Rank to 3 ]

Lvl. 1 Proficient Battle Brewer: Leave the safe confines of your laboratory and stride in the battlefield, proving your arcane might on the front lines with a (10%) chance not to use bottles when using combat skills of this Ocadule. Your experience with arcane poisons gives you +(15%) Poison Damage Resistance. Enemies poisoned by you deal (10%) less damage to you.