Reincarnated as a blue dragon, he collided head-on with a wizarding civilization.

The materials were ready, but Motu did not immediately begin refining them.

Dragons' robust skeletal structure and broad, powerful claws were naturally suited for fighting and tearing, rather than for delicate manipulation.

Those alchemical vessels used for grinding, weighing, and holding medicinal liquids, such as mortars, glass rods, and swivel bottles, were all designed for human use.

These things seemed exceptionally fragile and difficult to control in his hands, and could easily collapse and shatter at the slightest carelessness.

However, the Wizarding Manual seems to have taken this into account long ago. In the chapter on basic skills, right after Magic Perception, it details a zero-ring trick called Wizard's Hand.

Its principle is not complicated: it uses mental energy to wrap around the target object and remotely controls it through thought.

The distance wasn't far, and the power wasn't great, but it was enough for handling those delicate bottles and jars.

Following the illustrated instructions in the manual, Mo Tu calmed his mind and carefully guided the pale red magic power within his body, refined through the "Blood Moon Meditation Method," to the tip of his right claw.

His mental energy was highly concentrated, slowly merging with the magic.

A moment later, a semi-transparent, pale red ball of magical light with a somewhat blurry outline gradually condensed and took shape about an inch above his outstretched palm.

It was not a real hand, but rather a phantom with all five fingers drawn out by pure energy. With the slightest movement of Mo Tu's mind, the hand would open and close, bend and stretch accordingly.

It became.

But this is just the beginning. Precision and stability in handling require a lot of practice.

Motu spent the entire morning on this.

His initial goal was an empty, rough stone bowl.

On the first attempt, I enveloped the stone bowl with my mental energy, trying to lift it up. The stone bowl only shook violently twice before slipping out of my control and crashing to the ground with a thud, breaking into several pieces.

The second time, the stone bowl successfully lifted off the ground, but it flew erratically towards the wall as if drunk, and shattered again.

Third time, fourth time...

With each failure, he carefully savored the tactile sensation of the transmission of spiritual power and the subtle balance of magical output.

On the fifth attempt, the stone bowl finally floated steadily half a foot off the ground and began to rotate extremely slowly, following the blue dragon's will.

He didn't stop. In the afternoon, Motu increased the difficulty, trying to control two stone bowls, a wooden stirring rod, and an empty small potion bottle at the same time.

At first, we were overwhelmed with one thing and overwhelmed with another; either the stirring rod fell off or the medicine bottle tipped over.

But he was extremely patient, repeating the process again and again, gradually becoming familiar with the feeling of multitasking while simultaneously maintaining several delicate mental tendrils.

As the last rays of the setting sun began to stretch across the ground through the window opening, he was finally able to keep the two stone bowls suspended steadily, the stirring rod making regular circles in one of the bowls, and the potion bottle waiting quietly to the side. The whole process lasted for dozens of breaths without any mishaps.

"That's fine."

Motu let out a long breath, dissipating the magic.

The sustained mental concentration and magical energy expenditure left him feeling slightly tired, but he was filled with a sense of accomplishment in mastering a new skill.

He tried to pick up the dagger with his mage's hand and make extremely slight scraping motions, and then tried to turn over the delicate moonflower leaves.

The translucent, pale red hand moved smoothly and with precise control of its strength, making it far more convenient and safer than him using his enormous claws to manipulate it.

"It's really useful."

Motu was satisfied. This mage's hand had completely cleared away the first, and perhaps most important, obstacle in the practical application of alchemy.

He then rummaged through a storage room in the corner of the camp, where odds and ends were piled up, and found some barely usable tools.

Several rough earthenware bowls of different sizes replaced the stone mortar, and several hardwood sticks of different lengths served as stirring rods and grinding pestles.

With everything prepared, he packed up the odds and ends, carried them on his back with the magician's hand, and returned to his stone house.

When they reached the small, flattened open space in the middle of the road, they happened to bump into Green Tile, who was idly practicing his aim by slapping the ground with his tail.

Upon seeing the bulging, jingling animal-skin bundle on his back, and the pottery bowls and wooden sticks protruding from its edges, the other person was first taken aback, then burst into unrestrained laughter:

"Hahaha! Iron Bones! What kind of junk are you carrying? It's clanging and jingling like something out of a peddler's errand in a human town!"

Motu glanced at her indifferently, ignoring Green Tile's mockery, but he also felt inconvenienced.

Every time they went out to collect materials and carry medicine-making equipment, they had to carry a lot of things on their backs, which were both cumbersome and easily damaged.

He silently made a mental note of this and resolved that the next time he saw Akino, he would definitely ask if he had any magic similar to a dimensional pocket or spatial equipment like a storage ring to solve his storage problem.

As night completely enveloped the border, the twin celestial bodies, the silver moon and the red moon, rose simultaneously, casting their cool silver light and hazy blood-red glow upon the earth. Through the windows of the stone house, they also cast dappled light and shadows into the interior. Motu's preparations entered their final stage.

Inside the stone house, a dim, flickering oil lamp lit with animal fat and a simple wick cast a pale, yellow light, barely dispelling a corner of darkness.

The rough stone table was cleared out, and all the utensils and materials were neatly arranged according to their categories:

Large and small earthenware bowls were arranged in order, wiped clean with a wooden stick, and several small animal skin bags and a small stone bottle with a cork stopper that had been found on the spot were placed within easy reach.

Moongrass, Blood Moss, and Ghost Water Essence were placed on either side of the stone table in the order recorded in the [Moonmark] potion recipe in the Wizarding Manual.

Everything is ready.

Motu stopped in front of the stone table, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. The glow of the oil lamp flowed across his calm, scale-like face.

For the first refining, Motu placed the blood moss into the stone bowl, followed by the moonlight grass.

As soon as magic was injected, the two materials in the stone bowl instantly foamed up with black foam, and a pungent burnt smell spread. Then, with a soft bang, the stone bowl shattered, and the liquid splashed all over the table.

Motu was stunned for a moment before realizing that these seemingly ordinary potion ingredients actually had a strict order of addition, and the slightest carelessness could lead to a conflict of medicinal properties.

Fortunately, there were backups of the materials. Blue Dragon calmed down, quickly gathered up the fragments, took out the materials again, and began the second refining process.

This time he remembered the order: first Moonlight Grass, then Blood Moss, and finally Dark Water Essence. The order was correct, but he failed to control the magic output when guiding the magic fusion.

The magic power fluctuated, and the liquid in the stone bowl instantly boiled, with white steam billowing upwards. Most of the liquid was evaporated, leaving only a pool of black, burnt matter that emitted an unpleasant odor.

Motu was speechless; the margin for error in this potion-making process seemed rather low.

The third time, having learned from the previous two experiences, Motu was extra cautious, precisely controlling his magic output and strictly adhering to the order of application. Just as the potion was about to be fully fused, he became distracted and delayed dripping his own blood in half a beat.

In just a moment, the originally clear liquid quickly solidified into a hard black block, devoid of any magical fluctuations, clearly indicating a complete failure.

The fourth time, the fifth time...

Motu tried again and again, but failed each time. Sometimes it was because the rhythm of guiding the magic was wrong, and sometimes it was because the materials were not ground finely enough. There were always some strange problems.

The materials on the stone table were being consumed faster and faster. The once plentiful Moonlight Grass had dwindled to just 2 plants, Blood Moss to just 1 portion, and Dark Water Essence to just 1 portion. If they failed again, they wouldn't even have a chance for one last attempt.

Motu stopped what he was doing, rubbed his throbbing forehead, and calmed down to reflect.

From the first to the fifth time, it seemed that every specific problem was identified and corrected.

But the root of the problem lies elsewhere.

The root of the problem is that he was simply mechanically performing the actions described in the manual.

He discovered that he only knew the steps of making medicine, but not the principles behind each step.

Why add the materials in this order? How should the rhythm of magic output be matched with the speed of potion fusion? What exactly are the potion properties of each material, and why do they conflict?

He knew nothing about any of these things.

Without understanding "why," one cannot cope with the subtle changes during the refining process.

While Dragonblood Seeds can quickly gather materials, they cannot withstand such meaningless consumption.

Motu didn't get bogged down in details. He knew very well that he lacked professional potion-making knowledge at the moment, and continuing to try blindly would only waste the remaining materials.

After thinking for a moment, he made up his mind to go and ask Akino for advice first thing tomorrow morning.

As a formal first-ring wizard, Qiuye must be proficient in basic potion-making, and may even have concocted the [Moon Mark] potion himself. He will surely be able to help him find the problem.