From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 448 Rune Gunpowder Recipe
In order to find the unknown spirit of nature, Senir, Halsin proposed to first awaken the Flame Fist soldier who had been wandering in the shadows for a hundred years.

However, Ivy didn't have many spell slots left, so all actions had to wait until the next day.

Having finalized tomorrow's plans with Halsin, Ivy fully immersed herself in her meal—yes, the plate of bright red, glistening grilled chicken skewers in front of her.

The entire race of Tifflin has a subtle connection with the lower planes. Some bloodlines originate from various demon lords, while others, more specifically, originate from the Abyss.

This connection to the lower planes made the Tifflins subject to strange looks when coexisting with other races. After all, if a village or town suffered a crime, people would always first look at these creatures with curved horns, hooves, and even tails.

After all, one Tifting is rare, two Tiftings are a conspiracy, and three Tiftings are a disaster.

Some Tifflin individuals deeply resent their bloodline, which is deeply connected to the lower planes, while others coexist with it with a touch of pride and cynicism.

It is precisely because of this mindset that the Tiffers have a more open attitude towards food.

The dish on Ivy's plate was called "Spicy Abyss Chicken Skewers." In this name, "Abyss" wasn't just an adjective, or simply meant to make the dish sound impressive. It was part of a complete noun: "Abyss Chicken," a chicken-shaped demon that roams in large numbers throughout the various levels of the Abyss.

Even if the Abyss Chicken's outline is similar to that of an ordinary chicken, it is still an absolute demon.

You see, this is why many people believe that the entire Tyflin race has an open mind when it comes to food; they would even try to eat a demon!
However, after Asmodeus attempted to ascend to godhood as a Tyflin race, almost all Tyflin were transformed into Tyflins of Asmodeus's subspecies. Even those who didn't become subspecies of Asmodeus were transformed into subspecies of other demonic dukes. This completely transformed the Tyflin from unfortunate beings whose bloodlines were corrupted by the lower planes into true members of the demonic race.

There are almost no more Tifflin bloodlines connected to the Abyss on the continent of Faerûn!

Asmodius's attempt to ascend to godhood might not be a good thing for the rest of the continent of Toril, but it certainly was for Ivy.

Because at least he doesn't have to experience what an abyssal demon tastes like.

Spicy Abyss Chicken Skewers.

This famous Tieflin dish originally required the summoning of an Abyssal chicken as an ingredient. However, after the entire Tieflin race sided with the demons, summoning a demon from the Abyss to consume became a difficult task.

Therefore, the main ingredient of this dish has changed from deep-sea chicken to ordinary broiler chicken.

The Spicy Abyss Chicken Skewers weren't as daunting as they looked; in fact, they were a pleasant surprise for Ivy. The crispy skin of the chicken thigh meat contrasted sharply with the juicy, flavorful meat. The barbecue sauce, a blend of chili powder, lime juice, chopped onions, lemon zest, and high-quality honey, had a unique flavor—sweet and spicy overall, with a hint of citrus aroma and a rich, mellow honey sweetness that perfectly balanced the spiciness of the spices on the tongue. Ivy not only salivated at the chili but also continued to chew, drawn in by the sweet yet not cloying taste.

Even the mental fog caused by intense scientific research was relieved and invigorated by the novel stimulation in the mouth.

Unlike Ivy and Halsin, who were feasting at the wooden table, the Iron Hand dwarfs, who were also enacting a scene of old friends reuniting, didn't seem so happy.

“…I don’t know, Bacchus. Why did you barge in here? To do something so stupid?” Ulbrun slammed his glass down on the table.

The two Iron-Handed Dwarfs who had escaped with him were sitting opposite him, burying their heads in their plates and eating voraciously.

Urbren's actions startled them; one of them even choked.

Bedron stood behind Urbren and saw that Urbren, who was not grateful, was almost arguing with Bacchus. He nodded in agreement.

“Unfortunately, what can we do when we’re friends?” Bacchus, standing by the wooden table, gave a wry smile. “It’s my right to rescue you from this deadly predicament.”

Urbren shook his head in disagreement: "But you didn't save me either, did you? I saved myself, with the help of some adventurers."

“And you, Bedron!” Ulbrun turned to the temporary leader of the Ironhand dwarves. “Why are you still here? You should be taking what we’ve found to Baldur’s Gate!”

"This...this is a bit complicated." Bedron panicked and hurriedly explained, "It involves a deal between us and Lord Doom. You can rest assured he's a very good person. He not only rescued us from the Grey Dwarves, but also escorted the unarmed Tieflin refugees here..."

"Doom, my lord?" Ulbrun was almost incredulous. "Is he some kind of lord or noble? Even if he is! Don't forget that the Ironhanded Dwarf is free! We must return to Baldur's Gate as soon as possible!"

“But—Ulbrun—” Bacchus seemed hesitant, “we need to discuss what you found in the Adamantite Forge—rune gunpowder…”

“I already said it! Go home! Return to Baldur's Gate!” Ulbrun hurriedly interrupted Bacchus, and spoke in a commanding tone to the other Ironhand Gnomes gathered around the table, “Hand over all your money. I need to hire a team of harpists or adventurers to send us back to Baldur's Gate! We must reclaim the Ironhand Gnomes' position from the Gond followers! Using what we found in the Underdark…”

"Are you blind, dwarf?" the Flamefist soldier sitting at the table next to the Ironhand Dwarf couldn't help but say. "Look at the darkness outside! Those moving shadows will wipe out anyone who dares to break in! No one will leave until the Supreme God's plot is thwarted!"

"You're a Flame Fist?" Ulbrun said sarcastically. "I really don't know who I'm paying my taxes to! It's because of the inaction of guys like you that cults have been able to infiltrate places like this!"

"Looks like someone wants to fight, right?" The Flame Fist soldier slammed his glass on the table, stood up, and fell to the ground as his chair collided with his armor.

"Victor! Stop!" Flame Fist, the woman at the table, pulled her companion back. "In this darkest hour, we should unite, not fight amongst ourselves!" "Lal, do you really think this dark-skinned little dwarf can get along with us?" Flame Fist Victor retorted.

“His companions helped us repair our armor and made a lot of useful arrows. We can use that equipment to deal with the cultists better,” Flame Fist Lar said sincerely. “Although only a day has passed, these kind people are already making their efforts.”

Lal persuaded Vido, who picked up a chair from the floor and sat back down without a word.

The Flame Fist soldiers were all tall and well-equipped. Ulbrun believed he had no intention of provoking them or causing a conflict, so he prepared to apologize as soon as the Flame Fist soldiers stood up.

But who could have imagined that the Flame Fist soldiers' apology would come even faster?

“I’m so sorry, my friend,” the female Flame Fist Ral said sincerely. “You were just rescued from the cultists by Lord Doom’s companions, and you must still be wondering what happened, right? In fact, we are all trapped here. The cultists’ army and the darkness brought by Shar have forced us to huddle in this small inn. Anyone who tried to leave on their own has not returned, and their corpses soon came back from the shadows to attack the Light of the End.”

"That's the truth. If we can't work together, under the leadership of Lady Jahira, Advisor Floric, and Lord Doom, to defeat Katheric Som and his cult, we'll likely perish in this unknown darkness." Flame Fist Ral's voice was somewhat hoarse, hardly melodious, but it certainly quieted the entire inn. Perhaps it was the resolute and uplifting emotion conveyed in her voice. "For a better future, please lend us your power, or at least be patient for now, okay?"

The image of Flame Fist Ral contrasted sharply with the aggressive Ulbrun, and even this stubborn and proud Iron Hand dwarf couldn't help but nod under the expectant gazes of the others in the inn: "...I thought the Flame Fist was full of scum who liked to extort money...but, there are good people like you too..."

As a mercenary group responsible for maintaining order, Flame Fist's uneven quality of its members has always been criticized by the citizens of Baldur's Gate. In the eyes of true Baldur's people, Urbrun's words are not an exaggeration, but basically just old news.

Lall did not explain for his colleague, but simply said, "We are all guards of High Duke Ravengard."

“Ravengard? Is he here too?” Ulbrun was taken aback. Who would have thought that he would see a powerful figure from Baldur's Gate, and the very head of the organization, in this rural inn?

“No,” Ral shook his head and sighed in disappointment, “Duke Gao has been captured by cultists… It seems you haven’t seen him in prison. Well then, I won’t disturb you and your friends’ meal any longer.”

Urbren breathed a sigh of relief after the Flame Fist soldiers sat back down at the table.

“Let’s continue our conversation, Bacchus, Bedron,” Ulbrun asked. “The runic gunpowder is right here, isn’t it?”

“We’ve kept it very well; it’s in Lord Doom’s magic chest,” Bedron said truthfully.

But Urbren was both shocked and furious upon hearing the answer: "Putting it in someone else's treasure chest is considered good preservation?"

"The Mediocre Treasure Chest doesn't just contain my belongings, but also the supplies and equipment for the entire camp. It's because of it that we were able to travel from the woods to the End of Light Inn in two days." Ivy had finished eating and was wiping the barbecue sauce off her mouth with a handkerchief.

"So, you're that Doom?" Ulbrun looked at Ivy warily.

Ivy didn't take his wariness to heart and extended her hand to introduce herself: "Ivy Doom, the planner of the End of Light Alliance."

“And he’s a master alchemist!” Seeing that Urbren didn’t intend to shake hands, Bedron and Bacchus, standing beside him, introduced him one after the other, “He’s even a master magician! You’ve never seen anyone more skilled than him! I think even the god worshipped by the Gond followers is no better than him!”

"The Alliance of Endless Light?" Ulbrun repeated noncommittally, then grabbed Ivy's hand and shook it. "You have the runic gunpowder, right? Then it's yours! Here's a suggestion: use it to blow up the Tower of the Moonrise, then take us back to Baldur's Gate. How about it, deal?"

“The important thing is not the Tower of the Moonrise, but the Mind Flayer colony below.” Ivy casually wiped the oil and dust off her hands and began to explain the Supreme God’s conspiracy, “...They control other people through Mind Flayer Tadpoles. You should be glad that my friend rescued you from the Tower of the Moonrise in time, otherwise the Supreme God would have figured out everything in your brains.”

“Oh, well, we’re really lucky,” Ulbren said dryly. “So, is it a deal?”

Ivy smiled and narrowed his eyes; this was the first time he'd ever seen such an ungrateful fellow. Fortunately, he had many spells he could use to deal with people like Ulbrun.

“Not enough,” Ivy’s eyes gleamed with a strange light, but no one noticed except for Ulbrun, who was staring at him. “Long before you were rescued, runic gunpowder was already being used as supplies for the Allied Forces. It was destined to be used to blow up the walls of the Tower of the Moonrise.”

"Then what else do you want?" Urbren's face showed no sign of abnormality; he was still the stingy and proud leader that all the Ironhanded Dwarfs knew.

“The formula for runic gunpowder. I’m an alchemist, and I’m looking to do some new research on explosions and sparks,” Ivy said softly. “Don’t worry about me competing with the Ironhand Gnome. I’m a traveler from another world; just ask around in this inn, and you’ll find out I’m a professor at a magic school. I can guarantee the Ironhand Gnome will still have the exclusive sales rights for runic gunpowder in Faerûn. Of course, you can offer some additional terms to balance things out.”

“I’ve heard you’re a skilled alchemist and a master magician…” Ulbrun lowered his head in thought, and after a while, he said with a fanatical obsession, “You not only have to bring us safely to Baldur’s Gate, but you also have to get the Ironhand Gnome back to his original position!”

"It doesn't sound too difficult," Ivy commented.

“I’ll tell you the specifics of how to do it later,” Urbren said. “And you can rest assured, the people we’re dealing with are definitely not good people; they are the scourge of the city, scoundrels who aid and abet evil!”

"I've heard you're a hero who loves helping others?" Ulbrun said sincerely. "Then I can give you the formula for runic gunpowder first, and authorize you to use it in this battle against the Supreme God!"

"Thank you." Ivy was quite pleased with his masterful Legilimency. The Iron Hand dwarf in front of him was completely unaware that he had been affected, and thought that all his decisions were just a sudden inspiration.

(End of this chapter)