Alchemy

"This kid, he's tougher than his dad."

Looking at Eleazar's departing back, Fioz smiles helplessly.

He then looked to the workbench, the completely burnt-out skin of the lord's beast.

It was an upright walking creature bloated like a bear, but with an avian face, and the pelt was taken from its softest belly, and was of exceptional value, being the finest material for the making of magical cloaks and shawls.

Of course, if it wasn't handled properly and was parasitized by the thousands of thorn seeds attached to it, the average person would just have to wait for death. Those were magic plant seeds that were as tiny as bacteria, and once infected, the flesh and blood rapidly fibered.

Although he said his son-in-law was looking out for his safety, Fioz felt a pang of pain.

Who would have thought that kid would suddenly come back?

Sighing at his recent luck, he took off his work gloves simply turned out the light, and went to bed.

A perceptive Witcher lives across the street, and he probably can't do any work these days.

...

Eleazar went back to his place.

Somewhat wondering why Uncle Fioz had acquired such a thing, he planned to take some time tomorrow to visit the Jazz Manor outside of town.

It was also unknown if the people there had been poisoned to death. After checking the house and realizing that there were no traces of outsiders stepping in, he breathed a sigh of relief and then deactivated the mechanism.

Carrying his suitcase, he slowly stepped into the dimly lit basement.

The flesh and blood material on the shelves was still hideous and frightening, and the crystal ball glowed faintly.

Coming to the alchemy lab bench, Eleazar opens the suitcase and removes its contents one by one.

First was a bottle of dark brown blood and flesh froth, taken from a dream-eating tapir, which was on the verge of decaying due to improper storage.

Eleazar set up the crucible and added some spices, then poured the entire bottle of blood and flesh foam directly into it, filled it with a bit of water to clean the inside of the bottle, poured the cloudy wash into it as well, and finally lit the crucible and began to sizzle.

The process could be a bit long, and he took advantage of the effort to move on to something else.

The second thing was still on the Dream Eater, the eyeball that held all of its spellcasting abilities together.

Since it's a source material, the spirit fluctuates very much, so it's hard to control it for the spell effects you want.

And the way to deal with it...

Eleazar tapped his head for a moment of recollection but finally flipped open the book of magic guides in resignation.

"Well, I found it, first melt it into crystals at high temperatures, and choose different temperatures depending on the vintage of the material."

That dream eater is a juvenile, so choose the lowest grade of temperature.

Eleazar got the small furnace used for melting metals and added siren charcoal to the bottom, and when it was adjusted to the right temperature, tossed the eyeball in.

Get that done and then go over to the crucible and toss it so it doesn't stick.

Then he took out the three portions of unknown jerky suspected to be demonic rations.

The ingredients are highly dubious, but just guess the food that most magical creatures love...

His stomach flipped.

These jerky meats can be ground into a powder to make bait, which is wonderful for specific occasions.

Eleazar forced himself to mentally resist and quickly disposed of it, then put it into a clear, sealed plastic bag.

The next thing that was still on the female Wraith Envoy's body were the two vials of unknown herbal powder.

He'd tasted a bit of it and experimented with it briefly, but hadn't been able to pinpoint a real use for it.

In school, he couldn't let go of his research at all for fear of unknown accidents, such as the creation of a poisonous fog or something like that, he had poison resistance, but that didn't mean the student in the dormitory next to him would be fine, and now that he was back in the lab, he could finally research to his heart's content.

Uncorking the bottle, Eleazar sprinkled a bit of the powder into a beaker, followed by dripping, flaming, and dabbling with all sorts of things to try to figure out what worked.

"Well, it's still not working..."

He thought about it and injected a hint of spirituality.

Something magical happened, as a sudden puff of smoke rose, the beaker disappeared with it.

Eleazar's eyes glazed over as a possibility occurred to him, and he slowly reached out and felt around.

The beaker was indeed still there, he just couldn't see it anymore.

The true effect of this powder has been called for.

[Alchemy: Glitter]

[Role: Stealth]

A magical spell-casting material that simply needs to be infused with spirituality, magic, or whatever energy works better with spells.

No wonder that female Wraith Envoy that day, unbeknownst to God, touched his side.

It was also in the recipe magic guidebook, but several of the ingredients were not available in his lab.

These two bottles of glitter will last him a long time if he saves them.

Finally, Eleazar pulls out the bloodied notes.

It was the last relic of that female Wraith Envoy.

The contents on it were simple, recording a recipe for a named magic potion, the effect of which was that it could link souls with some living creatures that had dropped their psychic defenses.

From the introduction, it could be seen that this magic potion specialized in tricking those stupid white people with low intelligence, and with some contractual rituals, it was easy to enslave the other party.

It's a magic potion recipe that's not in the magic guidebook, probably why it's not suitable for Witcher.

Eleazar casually tossed his notes into the utility closet.

Going over and tossing the crucible again, feeling that the moisture in it was pretty much fried, he switched containers and began the drying process.

The material in the furnace seems to have burned down about as well, and Eleazar takes a look at it with tongs.

The original quail egg-sized demonic eyeball had now turned into a fingernail-sized black crystal.

"Well, it's ready to be processed."

Setting the crystals aside to cool, Eleazar continues to organize things.

In the order of his harvest, he pulled out the small heathered box.

Opening the lid, a burst of pearlescent light reflected in the basement.

The colorful assortment of gemstones, each pebble-sized and lustrous, looked like they were worth their weight in gold.

"Maybe we can take one to auction later when we run out of money to use it?"

Eleazar fantasized quite unambitiously.

Of course, he was only thinking about it.

The lab's stock of gemstones was extremely scarce, almost all of the advanced alchemy recipes required transcendental gemstones, and this was just the right time to replenish them, and his next bottle of magic potion looked like it was on the horizon as well.

That's all there is to gain from crusading against demonic spirits.

That's the way it is with those ghostly dark creatures, all alone, living or dead, tricky and difficult to deal with, and what you get depends on luck.

The final trophy in the chest was a pair of ghastly white arm bones from the Cursed One-Hawkmoth.

Eleazar is silent for a moment and carefully removes it.

The difference between something like this and those in the bottle behind it was that it was fresh, very fresh, spiritually abundant, and could be used to make equipment, whereas once one chose to store it sealed and wait for that unique energy to be cloudy, then later on the properties could only be extracted to be used to make alchemical potions.

Eleazar hadn't figured out what to make with it yet and put it aside to deal with something else first.