The Alchemist's Guide to Flesh and Blood Ascension

"Old Mike, two beers," Eunice held up two fingers and sat down in the corner where he had sat the day before, his attention quickly drawn to the man who pushed the door open and entered.

He had a musket slung over his shoulder, and his piercing gaze revealed exhaustion. On his fine leather armor, a tear and a piercing mark were clearly visible.

Even on his neck, several gruesome bloodstains were particularly noticeable.

"Barlow Meadow, we already met yesterday at the communication crystal," Barlow nodded slightly and accepted a beer from Yunevo.

"Yonev, a level three alchemist who can also work as a mage, could you elaborate on the anomaly you mentioned yesterday regarding the Ironcore Ancient Tree?"

Ionevoy rested his arms on the table and looked at Barlow.

"In short, its hunting method has changed from passive trapping to active hunting," Balo paused, then took out a piece of dark gold twisted bark from his pocket.

"What's more serious is that it has begun to 'reproduce,' or rather, 'assimilate' other trees."

"My brother was among the first monster hunters to join the church... but he disappeared without a trace not long after, leaving only this piece of bark," he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

The tavern's bard plucked out-of-tune notes, eliciting a burst of inexplicable laughter.

Yonif frowned slightly. He took the dried bark, but felt a strange stickiness on his fingertips. He asked, "The first members of the church have perished?"

Barlow sighed, looking troubled.

"I'm done for. I didn't even make it to the edge. I need an alchemist. The price of the concealment potion is negotiable."

"I understand, but as far as I know, breaking through the bark of an Iron Core Ancient Tree is inherently difficult... What are your chances of succeeding when it's enraged?"

Yoniv leaned forward slightly, deliberately slowing his speech.

"The lizard... its venom can effectively corrode the bark of the Iron Core Ancient Tree," Barlow said after a moment of silence.

"Even selling all the resources from the Iron Core Ancient Tree wouldn't be enough to buy a few bottles of Fiend Lizard Venom."

"They live in the middle layer, you understand?"

Yonivore's voice carried a slightly aggressive tone.

"Bap is my brother, the one I've relied on since I was little!"

Barlow stiffened his neck, half-straightened his back, and ran his right hand over the wound on his neck, clearly agitated.

"Calm down, I didn't say I wouldn't help you. Do you have a way to get the venom of the lizard?" Yunevo appropriately changed the subject.

He lowered his eyes in deep thought. The extraction process of the venom from the lizard was extremely complicated... Given the huge profits involved, naturally no one was willing to disclose it publicly.

What if we also consider those lost notes? What a coincidence... isn't it?

"Mr. Barlow, when was the second group of people sent in?" Yonivo's voice turned cold.

"Just yesterday, they cleared the place out and wouldn't let anyone in," Barlow sighed, staring blankly at the bursting bubbles in his glass.

"The church has a responsibility to protect every believer of God; this is a foolish choice."

"...They no longer allow anyone to approach the group."

Yoniv chuckled, pushed his beer over, and patted Barlow on the shoulder.

"Assignments are based on merit, right? I'll take this muddy water."

A glint flashed in Barlow's eyes, his lips moved slightly, and finally he raised his glass to Yonivore and drank the wine in one gulp.

"There should be other people in the team, right? It's a bit impolite not to meet the new members, isn't it?" Yunevo asked.

"They're coming right away..."

Not long after, two more men walked in through the tavern's main entrance.

The man in the lead, a muscular man in a vest, strode over and downed the beer in front of Barlow in one gulp.

Barlow paused for a moment, then gave a helpless smile.

"This is Byron Ferrari, a guy who 'hunted' before he 'won'."

He then pointed to another smiling man in a gray robe and continued, "Simon Hawthorne, a doctor..."

Byron's booming voice drowned out Barlow's; he grinned, revealing his yellow teeth, and sized up Ionevoy.

"Kid, so young? Could you be like the last alchemist... a coward who only knows how to spout theories?"

"You dare to delay my money-making... I won't give you any face. So you'd better not end up like the last one, blowing yourself up with cheap potion and becoming half-paralyzed."

He bent his arm and patted his mountain-shaped biceps.

Yonivore maintained his smile, took out his alchemist's badge, waved it in front of Byron, and said in a teasing tone.

"Just call me Yunevo. And, you big oaf... you should be able to tell what level it is, right?"

Level 3 alchemists were already the highest level they could reach. Byron's pupils contracted, and he wisely shut his mouth.

"The pastor—no, the doctor—seems to be a man of few words."

Eunice's gaze lingered on Simon's face, but not just because of the fleeting awkwardness Simon showed when he called out the priest.

Just as Simon adjusted his posture, a glimpse of gilded pattern flashed beneath his wide robe.

"Simon has always been like that, but he is indeed a very reliable doctor; he even saved Byron's arm last time."

Barlow stepped in to smooth things over.

"Yes, those weeds on the ground can be turned into life-saving medicine with just a couple of rubs in his hands!" Byron chimed in.

"Then the next question is, when do we depart?" Yonivo had completely taken control of the conversation.

Asking more questions will only backfire; what he needs to see for himself.

"Tomorrow morning?" Byron asked uncertainly, first looking at the silent Ionevoy, then at the thoughtful Barlow.

"Tonight, we can ensure we reach the Iron Core Tree by noon..."

Simon, who had been silent all along, finally spoke up and added.

"At noon, the iron-core ancient tree is at its least aggressive and most inert."

Eunice gave Simon a knowing look, then stood up and extended his hand to him.

"Excellent insight, Mr. Simon. I apologize for my previous offense. Your knowledge of botany is truly admirable."

Simon's smile remained, but he withdrew his hand a fraction faster than usual.

"You flatter me, Mr. Ionevoy. It's just some accumulated knowledge from the field."

With everything agreed upon, Yunevo left the tavern first, using the excuse of preparing materials.

Penniless... now he can sell even a single drop of "saliva" for a high price, making the raw materials for the concealment potion practically a piece of cake.

By using the Alchemists' Guild's communal alchemy station, he could also make a good profit at the lowest possible price.

……

It was another dark and stormy night.

Yonivore arrived late, carrying a whole string of medicines slung across his shoulder.

Barlow was squatting by the campfire at the south gate, repeatedly tracing the tiny runes on his musket. Beside him was Byron, now wearing heavy iron armor, carrying a broadsword and dozing off while leaning on his shield.

Simon quickly closed the book and moved closer to the campfire in front of him.

"A spy said... the church has sent out a third group of people first, and we can let them scout ahead for us."

Yonivore stopped in his tracks.

The first batch were hunters, the second batch were regular soldiers... so what about the third batch?

"I heard that the third batch was led by a Templar Knight... the 'Purifiers'."