“Do you think Mum will live in our house for good?” I asked. “Or is she just there for the duration of her stay in Egret?”

“Visit me no more, lad,” came the reply.

“You’re no help.” I sighed, shaking my head. It was nice to feel my strong lower jaw weighed down by girthy tusks again. “Where can I get an answer ‘round here?”

“The souls of the dead cling to my horns,” she said. “I do not want them to pull yours as well. Leave.”

“Maybe I should ask the guard?” I looked left, to the opening of the cell we were in. Outside stood an armored Mardukryon watching me, a requirement when visiting the inner section of the prison. His form shimmered because of the barrier blocking the exit. “Nah, he probably can’t hear me from in here.”

“I have decided to lay here,” continued my unhelpful conversation partner, “and await reuniting with our ancestors. Tarry here no more.”

[Mardukryon Lvl 39|Prisoner: Gula] sat on the far edge of the cell, her legs beneath her. The paltry light from the magical barrier barely reached the front of her body, lightly brushing back the shadows to reveal a frail frame wrapped in a dirty robe. I couldn’t cast [Greater Pyro Shell] or any other skill for more illumination because the barrier prevented it. But from what I could see of Gula, it was like she aged a hundred years from the last we met. The glow of the magma veins of her flaking skin was almost gone, and her skin was white as charcoal ash.

Is Gula going to be okay? She wasn’t about to “reunite with our ancestors,” was she? I should now concentrate on this matter since I was back in Mother Core Online. Mum was already in our house. It'd be easy to convince her to stay for longer later.

I hope.

Why did I want her to stay anyway? I couldn’t—

I shook my head. Focus. “Healer Gula, how are you?” I should’ve asked this first. After all, I was visiting her in prison… or dungeon? Dungeons were underground prisons, so both were correct terms.

“I’m a Healer no more,” she replied. “How many times do I need to repeat this sorry fact?”

“I guess it’s like rubbing salt in your wounds sort of thing, huh? Really insensitive of me. I apologize for that.”

“Leave now, dear lad, for maintaining contact with me risks the village turning a suspicious eye on you.”

“You’ve helped me a lot,” I said. “I won’t abandon you. Many villagers also benefitted from your medical prowess. They shouldn’t forget about it and just throw you in here.” And I still need you to teach me about making potions, I chimed in my mind. Could I still wriggle a potion-brewing Ocadule from Gula?

I was a student of Bawu; it’d make sense lore-wise I’d get something special when also becoming a student of Gula. Looking at the situation now, with the connection to the recently ended world quest and all, if Gula did have something to give, it was going to be as valuable as salt in ancient times.

On top of healing and health regeneration—which I already have plenty of—I also wanted health potions for sustain. Not only did I have to survive incoming damage, but I’d also need to counter poisons I’d ingest and other self-debuffs when my Plaguetank build fully came online. I needed more sustain than the usual tank, though it was arguable that there was never enough for any tank, since I’d trade healing for more tankiness and a bit of DPS. By consuming poisons and sharing their adverse effects with my enemies through [Cloak of the Plaguespreader], I’d be able to deal damage and, more importantly, debuff them, indirectly increasing my survivability without dedicating slots and LSPs for additional skills. Just sustain would be sacrificed.

Well, it was wrong to say just sustain, given I was a tank. It was all about juggling tradeoffs. To shore up the sustain I’d lose, I was betting on getting a high-Quality Ocadule from Gula.

As Eclairs had told me, and confirmed by my experience with my Akhos Ocadule, a brewer—or a chef, a baker, a blacksmith, all crafters, essentially—had special bonuses when using their own creations. I’d make high-Quality health potions rather than buy from others.

I’m hitting a lot of birds with one Stone again, I proudly thought, patting my shoulder.

“Traitor… Sister of the witch,” croaked Gula.

“Huh?” I snapped out of my theorycrafting fantasies. “What were we talking about?”

“I know what they call me. They are right. If I didn’t sew my mouth shut, Bawu would’ve been arrested before she carried out her horrific plan that claimed the lives of dozens of our meager number.”

“Oh, that. Yeaaaah…” I scratched my tusk. “If we’re talking about blame then I should—No, I mean you shouldn’t think about that. I know why you did it. Why you helped Bawu. Not because you’re family—which would’ve been a very understandable goal—but because you wanted the secrets of Bawu’s masterpiece brew.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Not-so Healer Gula had told me that Mad Brewer Fugitive Bawu viewed the Arcane Brewers as her family instead of her actual one, which was why Bawu was hellbent on getting revenge on the Mountain Guardian for wiping out her Lodge. And so, Gula also grew distant from Bawu.

Emotionally, that is.

Gula still communicated with Bawu, even after the first time Bawu got people killed due to her experiments, because Gula aimed to recreate the potion that could cure all ailments for the benefit of the people of Kurghal Village.

“And that’s an even nobler goal,” I said. “You couldn’t have known that Bawu intended to destroy part of the village and kidnap people for her experiments. You had no part in that.” I did, I added in my head. I went on, “Don’t beat yourself over with it. Let’s continue what we were talking about last time.”

This was my second goal with Gula. If I had Bawu’s cure-all potion, I could survive the Mountain Guardian’s powerful Freezing farts that gush all over the place and explore paths never before trodden upon by other players. On top of finally discovering the way off this mountain, I also expected Gula to richly reward me if I proved myself remaking it.

Gula hung her head. “I had given up on completing the prized elixir of my sister. I cannot do anything while in here… and they would never let me out until I die. I would’ve preferred they executed me to spare me from years of wallowing in my thoughts.”

“Maybe that’s the penalty,” I muttered. “A harsh one.” Then in a louder voice, I said, “As I’ve suggested last time, I’ll complete it for you. It’s your ticket out of here. If not freedom, Chief Nogras will at least agree to a house arrest. I can feel it. You weren’t leaving your shop much anyway, so it wouldn’t be that different to complete freedom.”

“A hopeful plan, you speak,” said Gula, her head still bowed. “Yet a fanciful one. I’ve chased that thought away from my head. Though I am impressed by your skills and capacity to learn—”

“Why, thank you,” I said.

“—and my sister recognizes it as well, you’re far from the level to complete Bawu’s secret brew. If nothing fruitful came from my decades of attempts, then I highly doubt you can make it. You are not even an apprentice Healer.”

“I would’ve been one if you gave me an Ocadule before you got arrested,” I grumbled.

Gula had started the chain quest of teaching me to become a Healer. I interrupted it to meet Bawu but tried to pick it up again. However, Gula didn’t continue it, focused on recreating Bawu’s formula.

“Anyway, you make a good point,” I said. “You wouldn’t think a random guy, barely past a youngling, could do what you failed to achieve. That would’ve made sense if I were any other person—but I am Herald Stone!”

“Even if you had the skills to do it, how would you proceed without the ingredients?”

“Ingredients? I have to gather those.” I scotched nearer to her and continued in a low voice. “I know that one of them is Ichor. Kruos Ichor, the crystallized blood of the Mountain Guardian.”

Gula’s eyes grew wide, and her magma veins flared for a second. “How did you know that? Did my sister tell you?”

“No, she didn’t. I discovered it on my own, snooping around her laboratories during one of my trips there. Only later did I piece together what it was for.” The truth was that Melonomi told me about it, but I liked claiming inflated credit. “In fact, I already have Ichors I inadvertently acquired in my adventures. I’ll be able to gather the rest of the ingredients. Trust me.”

“Your words fill my heart with hope, dear lad,” said Gula, her voice cracking. “Your eagerness makes me believe it is possible. But it is not… for I do not know all the ingredients of Bawu’s brew, and you could no longer scour her workplaces, for it is teeming with Hunter-Warriors. A dead end lies in our path.”

“We’ll think of the problems one at a time,” I said. “I’ll gather the ingredients you do know, and then we’ll puzzle over the others only after then.”

I didn’t reveal the truth about the [Large Fragile Bundle]—Bawu’s gift from decades past to Gula that the latter assumed to be dangerous chemicals given as a prank, but turned out to be some of the secret ingredients of the cure-all potion. Only after I tried returning it to Bawu did I learn about it. I’d discover its contents on my own—or perhaps with the help of Melonomi—and pretend to Gula that I was some sort of medical genius.

“You have nothing to lose,” I said. “Wait, that’s again insensitive to say, but you get what I mean. We have to try is my point.”

“That is knowingly trotting down an unfinished bridge,” said Gula. “Setting ourselves for disappointment.”

“We’ll never progress if we don’t take the first step,” I firmly countered. “And we’ll build the rest of the bridge when we get there, for I’m Herald Stone, the Great Bridge Builder! Ah, well, I’m not actually good at building bridges. But let’s return to just taking the first step—the ingredients that you already know.”

“Even on that part we’ll already encounter problems,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively. “Two of the ingredients are impossible to make, for the alchemical tool required is not available to me.”

“What do you mean? It’s at your store and you can’t get to it? I’ll search for it. Going to be bad though if the guards had seized it as evidence or something.”

“No, it is something I’ve never possessed, for it is of the Arcane Brewers Lodge. I tried to make substitutes but haven’t achieved even remote success. A major obstacle. Without it, two ingredients are lost to us, and the bridge you speak of will never be completed try as we may.” Gula shooed me away again. “It is better not to give my heart false hope. Now, go.”

“Wait, what item are you talking about?” I said. “Maybe your sister left it in her laboratories. I can try to find it. Or maybe I can search for the ruins of the Arcane Brewer Lodge.” Bawu made chimeric creatures to dig into them, she had told me. There was Ladambor and Melasbo and many other monsters. Surely, some of the tunnels they left behind were still accessible.

“A Bezoar Crucible,” said Gula.

“A what now?”

“Bezoar is a rocklike object made of hardened, undigested material in the stomachs of select animals. Bezoar has many uses in brewing potions. Those found inside metalopes is especially valuable. It can be fashioned into a container that when heated to extreme temperatures can impart special properties to the material one is trying to melt.”

I opened my inventory. “I feel like I’ve seen an item called that before.”

And there it was, [Bezoar Crucible], a reward from Bawu for completing one of her quests.