"..And which is why this product is in great need for our Sanctuary. Try to make a quality batch and we shall buy it from you at good rates if it passes the tests. Any questions?" Damian asked, ending his demonstration of making a batch of mana-rich mixture.
With a prepared batch, Damian just needed to add extract from his Arcane Synthesis skill slots and the batch of potion would be ready. Damian himself did not use it much for battle since his spellcasting was much faster than the actual effect of the potion, but a pugilist—especially a transcendent pugilist—could really prove to be a serious threat with the help of his potions. The stronger the physique, the better the stack-up endurance would be. He had tried it on himself, and as a first ranker, he could only stack 3–4 potions. By now, that number had to have increased five- or even ten-fold.
"Can we learn to make potions like you, Lord Keeper? A morphing potion?" a young boy in his late teens asked. The guy had curly brown hair, and his waist belt was full of alchemy tools. Apparently, many had tried to follow in his footsteps and failed miserably at times.
"No, it's a skill." Damian cleared it up to many sighs.
It was dangerous; many had been seriously injured doing half-learned mimicry spells and making weird mixtures of chemicals. He did not want to have such things in his consciousness.
"Anything else?" Damian asked as he moved towards the entrance of his almost empty potions lab.
"Who is the knight, Lord Keeper?" a middle-aged man asked, "In the statue. The one we are all in currently.."
"A Sanctuary knight," Damian replied. "Each and every knight that died fighting to protect the people he or she loved. Each and every single one that will fight and die in future for the Sanctuary. A knight who protects."
To his surprise, suddenly someone started clapping and the rest joined in. He had just spouted random bullshit, being political and all. One of the two first-ranker soldiers guarding the entrance looked inside. Damian was near the doorless entrance, so he gestured at the group of twenty-something people.
"Guide them out," he said.
The soldier, dressed in green, grey, and red, nodded and led everyone toward the spiral staircase.
That concluded all the things he had thought of doing. He had made eight sets of the waygate points shaped like giant hexagonal thick metal rings attached to three circular steps of pure condensed steel so the inscribed spell would last for at least a couple of months—for longer duration, he would have to replace the material with something better. It was as pure as Damian could make without adding any extra metal in it.
One of his long-time aims was to gather as many metals as he could get in this world and make some form of mixed metal that would hold mana better than steel. He had tried all the popular ones, but the rare and unique ones were still remaining.
'The white matter could be transmuted into anything I want.'
To his fortune, he had succeeded in accessing the spatial storage of his soul-bound weapon. How in the world would that even be possible, Damian had no idea. The trial world was literally just a spectral world. How could he have something solid and real from a world of dreams?
But he didn't beat around the bush about it and just accepted the blessing. He had two long swords, one of Drakyn and one of the King. That was all the material he had of this strange white metal. Of course, Lucian's sword too—but that he couldn't touch. Who knew if that weird lady was still alive in there?
He had to make the best use of this rare substance and not waste it. It was better to plan what he wanted most before doing anything.
Lucian, Souldealer, and Evrin had arrived in Sanctuary midway through when he was making the waygate points. He was the target for the waygate, and they had appeared right in his mostly empty lab with floating metals and fire. For the waygates, he just used his spells to melt the steel and shape it with air-shield-modified molds. He needed proper runic tools for the runic lab, but the necessary waygates were better made as fast as possible.
The look Lucian gave made him feel chills in the middle of molten steel and dark burning fire. That had to be his imagination, right? He was too occupied, so he left him alone—now that Damian headed towards his room in the stone keep, he remembered the chill from before.
He knocked before entering, which he never did before. Lucian eyed him, dressed in a simple green top and white breeches. She was just lying in bed reading a book.
"Hi," he said, coming in and removing the coat and gloves he had on while working.
"Hi," she replied, then went back to her book.
"Sorry about leaving you guys behind earlier." Damian just said it.
She eyed him, then closed her book, "And why did you do that?"
"It was Ilvanya, I swear! She said we were getting late.."
She kept staring at him, not believing the feeble excuse.
Damian sighed, "I did not do it on purpose—I just forgot you guys were with me."
"You forgot three people?" she asked in disbelief.
"It just slipped out of my mind. I am not used to having people around."
Now it was time for Lucian to sigh, "You thought if something went wrong, you would have to look after us.."
"It's fine. After hearing what happened, it's clear we wouldn't have served any purpose coming along."
Damian held her by the shoulder, "You are one of the strongest people I know. I would have loved to have you with me. And to be honest, when things started getting heated, my first thought was that I made a mistake not bringing you and others. I really just forgot. Next time we'll go dungeon diving together, how about that?"
She squinted her eyes, then asked, "Which dungeon?"
"The one in which you can meet an actual fifth ranker."
Her eyes widened. "You will try to finish it?"
Damian nodded. "Have to know what level 100 looks like."
"You have to, huh?" she said mischievously.
Their eyes locked together, and the rest was a much sweeter conversation without words—at the end of which, after two hours, they had to take a bath.