"Hmm, this is not it," a man muttered, turning the pages of a massive, timeworn book. He had been studying it for days, yet still hadn't found the final ingredient for the potion he'd been tasked to create. Days had passed with little progress on the assignment — to craft a potion for none other than Sylvana Morningstar, the greatest martial artist on the continent of Aurethia.
Sylvana had spent the last 2,400 years cryogenized, hidden within a secluded cave on an island lying between the continents of Norrhyn and Aurethia.
The reason for her self-imposed cryostasis was a mortal wound she'd sustained in an ambush — a stab laced with a legendary-class poison.
It was a diabolical mixture: The Widow's Crown, a legendary flower known to collapse all bodily systems, and Stormblight Reed, an ancient-class stalk infamous for twisting neural pathways — especially lethal to lightning users.
Ordinarily, such a combination meant certain death. But legendary martial artists were far from ordinary. Sylvana had used a martial art she'd prepared long before — one that teleported her to safety — and with the help of a legendary magic scroll, she sealed herself in cryostasis.
Only one person knew of her condition — her most trusted aide. Over 2,300 years ago, that aide had come to the man now reading the book, begging him to heal her.
Back then, he had refused. The sheer difficulty of gathering the required herbs, not to mention developing a potion capable of curing such a poison, made the task monumentally hard.
But now, with the world once again starting to grow exceedingly dangerous, every legendary being capable of defending the realm was needed.
And so, the old alchemist resumed his research — searching for the ingredients necessary to awaken her.
One ingredient immediately came to mind:
The Saint's Tear — a legendary substance, a single crystalline droplet resembling a gem. Said to heal any wound, disease, or poison — but only once in a lifetime.
Of course, that alone would not be enough. Sylvana's life force had been ravaged — both by the poison and the spell she cast while afflicted.
The next ingredient was:
Ardent Mallow — an ancient-class flower known to heal and reignite life force.
But combining those two ingredients created its own complications. They were both too rich in mana, and simply mixing them could trigger a mana explosion.
To balance them, a third ingredient was needed:
Etherleaf — an ancient-class herb capable of creating perfect mana binds between volatile components.
In theory, this combination could create The Elixir — a legendary healing potion powerful enough to counteract even a legendary poison, though it could only be used once in a lifetime.
In theory.
In practice, the potion was dangerously unstable. Even perfectly bound, the mixture remained too chaotic. If administered to Sylvana in her weakened state, it could kill her instantly — she wouldn't be able to control the potion's mana turbulence herself.
So the alchemist searched for one last ingredient — something that could soothe the chaos and stabilize the elixir.
Hours passed. Then suddenly, his eyes widened. He shot to his feet.
"I got it — yes!" he exclaimed.
He had found the missing piece.
Primefern — an ancient-class fern that grew only at leyline intersections, known to subdue and amplify the natural harmony within potions.
He closed the book and walked to a massive map pinned to the wall — a world map, depicting four continents and a large landmass at their center.
Drawn across the map were illustrations of various plants, marked in the regions where they typically grew.
The Saint's Tear, however, wasn't among them — nor were any legendary plants. There could only ever be one of each at a time, and after being harvested, nearly a millennium had to pass before another would manifest.
They also appeared in random locations — except for the poisonous ones, which were typically found in the most perilous regions of the world.
"Ah… luckily, I managed to get my hands on the Saint's Tear that appeared in the year 1462," he murmured. "I still remember… it was in a rather safe place that time. What a ridiculous stroke of luck — an advanced mage stumbling upon an ingredient that would make even legendary beings drool."
His gaze drifted to a small island west of Aurethia.
"Year 2862," he said quietly, beginning to write in his diary. "I've finally finished the recipe for The Elixir. I've already sent Albert to gather the ancient flowers from their native regions. I could use the samples from my personal stash — the one hidden in the ancient cave that connects Tessara to Aurethia — but those are for emergency cases, so that it's not viable."
He wrote carefully:
Ratio: 1:3:2:4Method: …
He continued scribbling the preparation method when a sound interrupted him.
Knock, knock.
The man looked toward the door. "Come in."
A servant entered, carrying a teapot and two cups.
"Master," the man said respectfully.
"Hello, Sebastian. How are you feeling today?" the alchemist asked.
"Good, thank you. How about some tea?" Sebastian replied, smiling faintly.
The alchemist gestured toward a chair across from him.
Sebastian sat down, poured the tea, and began drinking first — as he always did. The alchemist followed with a sip of his own.
"You seem happy today, Master. Have you finally solved your problem?" Sebastian asked.
"Yes, indeed, Sebastian," the man replied, standing and walking toward the map.
"I've already sent men to gather the ancient plants from here, here, and here," he said, pointing to several marked locations. "Once that's done, I'll brew the potion — and then we'll head toward the cave where Sylvana sleeps."
He pointed to a spot near the northern islands.
"Once there, we— Gah—!"
The alchemist's words were cut short by a sharp pain in his chest. Looking down, he saw the glint of a blade protruding through his robes.
"Well… thank you, Master," Sebastian said softly. "Unfortunately, we of Dyonisus cannot allow you to heal Sylvana. We need both her — and your core — to fulfill our plans. So…"There seemed to be a lapse in time, then...
The old man didn't waste a single second questioning why his pupil of over five centuries would betray him. It didn't matter. Seconds were precious.
He instantly triggered a chain spell — his last line of defense — unleashing a devastating shockwave that sent Sebastian crashing into the far wall. Then, in a flash of light, the old man vanished.
Moments later, he reappeared inside a dim cave, somewhere unknown.
He checked his condition and grimaced — he had been struck with at least an Ancient-class poison.
Judging by the symptoms — his regenerative abilities reversing into decay — it was likely something crafted from Netherheart Flower.
He also felt his mana draining unnaturally fast — a sign of Hollowshade Orchid, a toxin that disrupted mana flow and shattered elemental balance. His strength was plummeting — he was barely stronger than a Master Mage now.
He had hours left to live.
If he had been a martial artist instead of a mage, he would've had minutes.
Knowing death was inevitable, he pulled out his journal and began to write furiously.
He transcribed every recipe he could recall — formulas, ratios, techniques — hoping a future alchemist would find the book and continue his legacy.
As his strength waned, he stopped writing detailed instructions once he reached the Grandmaster level, leaving only the ingredients for those beyond.
Half of the Grandmaster recipes, and all Exalted and Legendary ones, were left incomplete.
When he finally finished, breath ragged, he cast one final spell. The book vanished from his trembling hands, sent to a place only fate would know.
"…I hope… the one who finds my book… isn't some kind of dipshit…" he rasped with a faint smirk.
Then, he closed his eyes.And moments later, he was gone.