No More Pain For This Villain.

Chapter 173 Potion Chaos...

'Yep, I don't want her to lose limbs.' Blaze chimed in with his agreement.

"Now listen," I directed her attention towards the cauldron, taking on the role of instructor," I'll recap what Professor Night taught us, and then we'll follow her instructions together. Does that sound alright?" I inquired.

"Yeah," she replied once again, her voice soft and compliant—a stark contrast to her initial hostility.

'Wait a minute... wasn't she supposed to be a competitive character? Why is she suddenly acting like a bookworm?' Blaze interjected with his own confusion.

I proceeded to walk her through the steps of crafting the healing potion, relying solely on verbal explanation since my own practical experience was limited.

"-and then it should be done," I concluded, wrapping up the instructions.

As for Blaze's question, the reason behind Raven's behavior lay in her complex background, which was deeply entwined with criminal elements. This necessitated a certain degree of identity concealment—a fact that she had shared with me and would eventually reveal to Adam in the future.

In essence, her secret was not as closely guarded as one might assume, given that she had enrolled under her actual name. However, the details of her past and her ability to reveal them selectively added a layer of intrigue to her character.

And so, with the foundational knowledge in place, I redirected my focus to the practical execution of potion-making. I signaled for Raven to join me at the cauldron, my actions purposeful and precise, every movement calculated.

"You gonna keep clutching onto that Bison's head?" I inquired, not bothering to turn my gaze toward her as I gathered the necessary materials nearby.

'...Are you sure you want to continue this way? She's one of the main characters, you know,' Blaze's voice inquired, a hint of caution underlying his words.

My response was clear—who cares. Why should I concern myself with potential future events that might restrict my current actions? If something comes up, I'll address it then and there.

'that's so unlike you.....nah maybe I get it, living a normal high school life huh,' Blaze commented, understanding my mindset.

Raven's trance-like state didn't escape my notice. She seemed entranced by something, lost in her thoughts.

"We don't need this," she asked, raising the severed head of an Earth Bison.

"Nope," I stated matter-of-factly, my finger pointing at her. "If you thought bringing that would enhance the potion's quality, you're mistaken." I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in. "The method Professor Night taught us is for crafting E-grade magic potions, while this Bison is around B-rank. The two won't be compatible. Just set it beside the cauldron."

"Fine," she conceded, her tone carrying a hint of resignation. With a decisive movement, she placed the severed Bison head directly beside the cauldron's edge

...

"First, we need to add the crushed Valerian root," I instructed, handing her a vial containing the powdered herb. "Measure out two pinches and carefully sprinkle them into the cauldron."

Her hands moved with precision as she followed my guidance, a hint of concentration in her features. As the Valerian root settled into the cauldron, I continued.

"Next, we'll need Essence of Lathander Flower. Pour about half a vial into the mixture," I explained, offering her the vial containing the translucent liquid.

She measured the quantity with care, the fluid glimmering as it mingled with the Valerian root. Our movements synchronized as we progressed through the steps, each ingredient added with meticulous attention.

"Now, we add a pinch of powdered Moonstone," I instructed, handing her a small container. "This will enhance the potion's healing properties."

Raven's fingers deftly pinched the Moonstone powder and released it into the mixture. With each addition, the cauldron's contents took on new hues and textures, a testament to the alchemical transformation taking place.

"Lastly, we'll gently stir the mixture in a clockwise motion for three complete rotations," I guided, my fingers grasping the wooden stirring rod. Raven mirrored my movements, aligning her actions with mine as we operated in perfect synchronization.

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[Raven's POV]

What? What just happened? My thoughts spiraled in disarray. How can he... how can he act so normally?

I comprehend that he's unaware of my true identity, but his demeanor towards me is unsettlingly casual. It's as if he's deliberately choosing to ignore the fact that I...

Ugh, I'm finding it difficult to process my feelings about him. Isn't he the same reckless individual?

I acknowledge that he exhibited this attitude during escort journey, but I always believed he was merely wearing a facade. Why is he continuing with the same behavior now?

Soft footfalls drew closer, catching me off guard as he approached. He loomed over me, his voice carrying a touch of guidance as he intervened.

"Not like that, stir it like this," he instructed, stepping a bit closer to demonstrate the proper technique.

"W-what?!" I flinched, my heart racing. I hadn't sensed his approach at all, which left me unnerved.

Subtle tap, resonant thud—it took me a moment to process what happened.

"Huh?" I turned slightly, searching for the source of the sounds.

"..." With an unexpected movement, Ren withdrew from the cauldron, covering his head with his robe and crouching down.

Why is he doing that?

And then, in the blink of an eye...

"!!Thad!!"

My eyes widened as an explosion of water erupted from the cauldron, drenching everything around it, including me. The room was filled with momentary chaos, a mix of surprised gasps and startled exclamations.

Silence fell, and all eyes were on the drenched figure of Ren Hilton, standing amidst the splattered mess, his robe protecting his form as he reacted quickly, managing to avoid getting wet.

What just happened?

Maybe the Bison's head fell into the cauldron?

"Agh," he grumbled, standing up and looking around before his gaze settled on me.

"Pffffffffffffffff," and just like that, he burst into hearty laughter.

He... can laugh? Like a genuine, happy laugh.

And he doesn't look half bad—wait, why's he laughing?

I stared down at myself, realization dawning on me.

My clothes were soaked, clinging to my body as if mocking my attempt to remain composed. Water droplets trickled down my hair, forming a wet trail down my neck.

Embarrassment flooded my cheeks as I looked up at Ren, his laughter contagious and unexpected. His reaction was far from what I had anticipated; instead of mockery or indifference, he was genuinely amused.

"Haa, what am I to make out of this?" He inquired, making an effort to stifle his laughter. "Hey, maybe you should get out of the class... you're dripping wet down there," he pointed at the floor.

"S-shut up!" I conceded, my embarrassment undeniable.

I think.....he is a bit of a weird one.

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[Third Person View]

The grand wooden door of the headmaster's office stood before Professor Night, who raised her hand to knock. A firm rap echoed, and after a brief moment, the door swung open.

Inside the office, Headmaster Stormborne sat behind his desk, engrossed in his work. The room was adorned with shelves of ancient tomes, artifacts, and maps. The magical crystal chandelier suspended from the ceiling cast a flickering light, creating an atmosphere of both mystery and authority.

"Ahem," Professor Night cleared her throat, drawing the headmaster's attention away from his paperwork. He looked up, his expression a blend of seriousness and welcoming.

"Ah, Professor Night," he acknowledged her presence with a nod. "What brings you here?"

With a respectful bow, Professor Night entered the office further. "Headmaster, I wish to discuss an incident that occurred during my potion-making class."

Stormborne leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he regarded her. "Please, go on," he encouraged, prompting her to elaborate.

"It appears that... you demoted a first-year student," she voiced her question, her experience spanning over four decades at the imperial academy.

The academy held a reputation for nurturing young talents, especially those in Class A who received preferential treatment. But to demote a student from Class A to Class B for alcohol consumption seemed unprecedented.

"Oh, that boy... Ren Hilton, isn't it?" Headmaster Stormborne sighed, mentioning the student's name. "It was done on a whim."

"What?" She attempted to inquire further, but Stormborne raised his hand, effectively silencing her.

"I have my reasons for doing so," he continued, standing up from his seat. "I kindly ask you not to interfere."

Professor Night gazed at the headmaster, taking in his demeanor. She trusted him; everyone did. If he had reasons, they were surely valid.

"Of course, Headmaster. I'll take my leave," she said, acknowledging his authority before turning to exit the office.

After Professor Night left, Stormborne leaned back in his chair, his eyes closing as he muttered to himself, "Long live Falkor."