ALL NOVEL Chapter-32 Blood Potion
“Luna, come back! Luna!!” she screamed.
Ewan sighed and shook his head, the grass tickling his ears. It was a warm afternoon, and he lazed around in the backyard with his Astylinds, basking in the sun. The silence was calming, up until he heard that word again. Luna, how many times Nana had already yelled that in the last week…
Unlike her given name, the bird was anything but serene.
“Luna!!!”
He groaned and covered his ears, turning to the other side. Toast yawned; half his body lay on Orange. Frost sprawled on his stomach; his tail twitched at times; his breath blew the grass. And Iris nested in Ewan’s hair and rolled around.
The noise didn’t bother them, but it irked him. He couldn’t sleep with both the bird and her master making a ruckus.
If he couldn’t rest, it was better to do some work. He got up grumbling and went down to the basement. After the fire and the ice modification parts of the ‘Elementalist’ subtype, his next target was the blood modification.
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…
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Seventh attempt, his eyes stung from sweat, his arms numbed, his shoulders and neck stiffened, but he created the blood potion.
…..
The blood dyed the floor red as the steaming water washed it down the drain. Ewan stood under the shower head, leaning on the wall, hot water prickling his skin. It rinsed the blood off, but more seeped out.
The foggy sight of the clock from the gap in the door showed ten minutes, hypovolemic shock was becoming a concern now. Yet he didn’t feel any negative effect so far, except for some weariness and lethargy. The book described this side effect of the blood potion, like the other two potions. ‘It’s Safe’—written in bold letters pacified Ewan and stopped him from taking any preventive measure.
A few minutes later, the water rinsed the last layer of blood away and exposed his fair but molting skin. He lumbered over and lay down in the empty bathtub, short on breath, his shoulders and face steaming and flushed. When his heaving chest eased down, he scrubbed off the dead skin and took a relaxing bath after filling the tub with hot water; the tap fluttered at the end of it and spewed some cold bursts.
The burn scars on his left hand also peeled off when he rubbed them under water, revealing the rosy skin beneath, spotless without any blemish—the molting was another side effect of the blood potion, and it solved a minor problem of aesthetics for him.
This marked the completion of the necessary modifications. He would still carry on with the subtype, creating potions for it, but he could now continue his spell practice. The three Anima existed in a harmonized balance inside his body and his soul space. He wouldn’t have to worry about any conflict between them.
Ewan returned to the basement after putting on black trousers and a white sweatshirt and took out his Spellbook.
Iris went back into the blood rune and slept, Toast climbed his trousers and curled on Ewan’s shoulder, Orange trained using his explosive nature of the Fire-Anima to jump around on the walls and the ceiling. And Frost joined Ewan in practice.
<Ice Daggers>, it was the first spell Ewan chose for his focus. He couldn’t cast it before, but he still studied its spell circuit and analyzed its workings. This was a spell that shone when the Severynths gained a specific skill after their third awakening—Ryvia. It was worthless without it, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t practice it.
Ice Daggers!
A white palm-sized straight dagger floated before Ewan. Since its spell circuit didn’t have any targeting mechanism, he had to adjust its trajectory at the beginning. He aimed at Frost with one eye closed and hurled the dagger.
Frost pushed both his arms forward and created a head-sized ice shield—it hovered in front of him. But the dagger missed the shield and smashed into the floor, shattering into shards.
“Again.” Ewan still had enough Ice-Anima. Frost too had enough for a few more rounds.
Ice Daggers!
He took his time and adjusted his aim to be higher while Frost created another shield and braced himself. The dagger whizzed past him and rammed into the wall, shattering into shards again.
…..
‘Astylinds evolved by burning their potential.’ Ewan highlighted the text in the thick book. Be it the main syllabus or off-course classes, neither covered the topic of grades of an Astylind in depth—it was only a shallow graze whenever they did. He only knew about the difference in combat strength; the dependence of evolution on grades was a new concept for him. The book described it in terms of potential. The higher the grade, the higher the potential, the higher the success rate of evolution.
The fourth remark for Iris, which might be from his Pa given the sentence structure, mentioned a special evolution path for her. ‘Focus should be on its grade,’ it read. But how far should he push it? Would getting her to ‘Grade-B’ be enough, or should he push her all the way to ‘Grade-S’…
Grade-S was the best choice if he wanted to be on the safe side, but the resources needed were drastic. Yet, staying mediocre or missing that special evolution path wasn’t what he wanted for his Astylinds. Especially Iris, because even though she was Level-1 now, she had no ability apart from using her roots to suck blood. Even with the same affinity level as Orange, she had zero combat value. She could cast no spells, and neither could she act as a support.
Still, whether he pushed it all the way or stopped before, he had to take the first step.
Core and blood from a blood-type Level-1 Astylind, Blood Stone, Bone Marrow—these were the ingredients that would upgrade Iris to Grade-C. He chose her first among his Astylinds.
Once he read through and memorized the topic of Astylinds’ evolution and their upgradation process a few times, he put the book aside and connected to the hub. Common sense dictated these ingredients were ordinary and should be available for sale in the general market—her current grade and potential couldn’t touch the higher level of commerce in the stratum.
And indeed, they were. He went through the list and selected several shops selling them. Prices varied but all remained under a reasonable range. The navigation led him around the hub. All sizes of spirits crowded the streets, some humanoid, some blobs, some random, as usual. But Ewan’s point of view, his altitude, was different now. Though he still looked up to most, he also looked down on some. His spirit could support his shopping sessions.
He spent four Novas and bought a single set of ingredients. From Grade-D to C, he only needed to stir a crude solution of the ingredients using a base liquid, not potions. In Iris’s case, it was the Astylind’s blood. It was a simple procedure and had no chance of failure. The only variable was the actual process of upgradation. That depended on his Astylinds, he couldn’t do anything about its success rate.