A Failed Alchemist
Translator: Cinder Translations
...
Wells sat angrily in a restaurant in Alden Town, drinking in frustration.
A few months ago, he had been a well-regarded alchemist in Crystal Glare City. With a small degree of fame, he owned his own workshop, earned a decent income, and never had to worry about food or drink.
But ever since he had taken on that damned job, he had plunged into the lowest point of his life.
It all began when a regular customer introduced him to a big-shot figure. Just how powerful was this person? Let's just say they could crush him like a bug without a second thought.
This aristocrat mentioned that they had some physical problems they needed help with from him, the alchemist.
When Wells maliciously speculated that the issue might be related to bedroom performance, the aristocrat removed his hat. Wells saw that the man's head was nearly bald... Well, not entirely bald. There were still a few stubborn warriors holding on to the last stronghold.
"Alchemist, I'm not even middle-aged yet. I don't want to go bald so early!"
The grief in the aristocrat's voice was obvious, and he was clearly distressed about his current condition and the even worse future ahead.
"Sir, I'm willing to accept your commission, but I may need multiple experiments and continuous improvements."
Wells didn't hesitate to take the job because it was his chance to elevate his social status.
The regular customer who had introduced him had already mentioned that if he could solve this problem for the aristocrat, a baron's title was guaranteed, and maybe even a viscount's title was possible.
A baron—although the lowest rank of nobility, it was still nobility! Higher in status than the knights. Just thinking about commoners standing respectfully before him and calling him "Lord Wells" made his heart race. If he seized this opportunity, his descendants would thank him.
So, Wells eagerly accepted on the spot. At that time, he still had some hope. His family had been in the alchemy business for several generations, and they just happened to have an ancestral recipe related to hair loss treatment.
He requested that the aristocrat personally test the medicine, reasoning that different bodies react differently to alchemical products. What worked on one person might not work on another. He repeatedly assured that no harmful ingredients would be added to the potion.
The aristocrat agreed. After all, such powerful people likely had many servants specifically for testing poisons and were not too worried about Wells pulling any tricks.
The aristocrat was very pleased and even invited Wells to share dinner that night, which made Wells feel deeply honored, even though the aristocrat was merely trying the treatment on a whim.
Wells went home and dug through his belongings to find the recipe, spent a week creating the first batch of potion, and eagerly delivered it to his high-ranking client. Then, he went home to await good news amid the client's eager anticipation.
A few days later, a servant from the aristocrat's household arrived, politely inviting him to the estate. Wells was overjoyed. The first batch of potion had worked! How unbelievably lucky!
However, when he excitedly arrived at the aristocrat's residence, the scene before him nearly made him faint.
The aristocrat's head was now completely shiny and bald. The few brave soldiers that had been holding their ground had tragically fallen in battle.
"Look what you've done, you idiot!"
The aristocrat pointed to his shiny head, furiously yelling, spittle flying everywhere, completely disregarding his own status. His rage was evident.
"Bah! Alchemist? More like a charlatan trying to gain fame and fortune!"
"Filthy worm from the gutter! Sewer rat!"
"I'll expose you to the public and ruin your reputation! Just wait, you fool!"
Two burly guards grabbed Wells, who struggled and cried out in defense.
"Sir, give me another chance! Maybe the potion wasn't supposed to be applied externally but taken internally… How about you try it again!"
"Get lost! Do you think I'd ever trust you again!"
And so, he was stripped of his clothes, shaved bald, and left with only a rag around his waist. He was thrown into a cage and displayed near the city gate for several days.
As a once somewhat famous alchemist, Wells felt like dying.
When he was finally released, he found that his shop had been smashed, and everyone knew about his humiliating days in the cage. People pointed and whispered as he passed by.
"Father, I've failed you!" He sat dazed in his doorway, eyes vacant, muttering to himself.
Two figures approached.
"So, this is the unlucky guy who offended some big shot?"
"Yeah, I saw him at the city gate. I heard he's an alchemist too."
One of them called out to Wells, "Hey, buddy! Can you hear me?"
Wells instinctively lifted his head to look at them, his eyes still vacant.
"Maybe the shock was too much, and he's gone dumb?"
"Let's try."
One of them took out a piece of paper. "Do you recognize the words on this?"
Wells' mind was blank. Without thinking, he took the paper and read it aloud.
The other man slapped his thigh. "He can read! Doesn't matter if he's an alchemist or not. Let's take him along and call it a day. Once we've gathered enough people, we'll get this month's bonus."
He turned to Wells. "Brother, I see you're not doing too well in the capital. Lord Grayman in the Northwest Bay is recruiting talent. Want to give it a try?"
"Go..." Wells replied weakly.
"Just waiting for you to say that!"
The man pulled Wells up and onto a wagon.
Two days later, Wells' mind finally cleared, and he found himself in a large carriage. He quickly realized his situation—he had apparently been recruited by some lord. After asking around, he discovered it was the Northwest Bay. Wasn't that a godforsaken place?
Although he couldn't stay in the capital anymore, with his skills, he could have easily settled somewhere else. Why should he go suffer in that wretched place?
He started yelling that he wanted to get off the wagon, but to his surprise, one of the men pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him.
"Mr. Wells, according to the contract you signed, you are obligated to serve Lord Paul Grayman for at least five years."
"Contract? What contract? I never signed anything."
"Take a closer look."
Wells squinted at the paper and, sure enough, there was his name. The handwriting was indeed his, and the contract did indeed stipulate that he would serve a certain Earl Paul Grayman for five years.
"You... You're kidnapping me! I wasn't in my right mind when I signed this!"
"Oh, Mr. Wells, you've just offended one noble. You wouldn't want to offend another, would you?"
"You!" The alchemist pointed angrily at the man, then dropped his hand powerlessly.
Indeed, he was just a commoner now. Even a lord in the Northwest Bay was not someone he could afford to offend.
"Sigh... I'll just take things one step at a time."
Wells leaned against the carriage window, feeling that his future looked bleak.
(End of the Chapter)
---
Perks of Joining My Pa treon (pa treon . com / CinderTL)
- Read (FF) Ahead, Currently up to Chapter 560 as of 01Nov24.
- Daily Updates of 2+ Chapters
- Mass Releases (+6 on 29Oct24)
- 2 Other Stories to Read (More Coming in Future)
- Support My Hardwork. and Show Some Appreciation
Become a Paid Member For As Low As $1, Your support is my motivation😊
AND PLEASE LEAVE SOME REVIEWS, It only takes a few minutes. 🥺