Chapter 17: You will die a virgin
Arya just stood there, biting her lip, hands extended like she was offering him a puppy and half-expecting to get scolded for it. "I don't know how else to thank you," she added quickly. "I-I really need the quest, and I don't want to owe you something unfairly."
Damon was shocked, to say the least. He did not expect the girl to be so sincere in her intentions. He shook his head and smiled.
"That's fine. You can keep the pouch. Just give me the cauldron. Consider these herbs as an advance payment for our future business transactions. When you manage to make some potions out of them, contact me, and I will buy them from you."
Arya's eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry—not from fear this time, but from sheer gratitude. "Y-you're serious? You'll... you'll buy them? Even if I mess up a little?" she asked, clutching the pouch close to her chest again like it was a lifeline.
Damon chuckled softly. "Everyone messes up at first. What matters is whether you learn. And something tells me you will." He extended a hand, palm open. "Now, the cauldron?"
Arya gave a breathless laugh, equal parts relief and disbelief, and gently placed the small cauldron in Damon's waiting hand. "Here. It's not much, but I promise I'll make it count." She looked up at him with a newfound spark in her eyes, timid yet determined. "And I won't disappoint you."
Damon nodded, inspecting the cauldron briefly before tucking it away.
He didn't know yet if Arya truly was that Arya from his past life, but he was willing to invest a little faith in her potential.
"You'd better not," he said, turning slightly. "Because if you do, I'll come collect—interest included." He flashed her a smirk over his shoulder before stepping away, his voice trailing as he vanished into the trees. "Stay alive, little alchemist."
Behind him, Arya stood quietly, her arms still wrapped around the bundle of Mistleaf, cheeks flushed pink. After a second, she whispered, "I will." Then, more firmly, to herself: "I will."
Damon observed from a distance as she ran off through the clearing, nearly tripping over a root but catching herself with a clumsy spin and a determined grunt. He watched her go until she was out of sight and then turned back to resume his grind when suddenly a voice chimed inside his mind.
"You are such a brute. You know you scared that little thing."
Damon froze. Was Bloodreign talking to him again? "You recovered?" He immediately asked.
A little laugh sounded in his mind. "How can I recover when you keep feeding me this useless trash? Give me something stronger to drink. Then I can recover. For now, I can only talk to you occasionally at crucial moments."
Damon's face twitched. "And this was a crucial moment?"
Bloodreign again laughed in his head. "Of course, someone had to tell you how embarrassingly brutish you were behaving!"
Damon rolled his eyes. "She's an alchemist. I need potions. It's called resource management."
"You need to be nicer to girls. Otherwise, you will die a virgin."
Damon almost tripped. What the hell was this sword talking about?
"You heard me. All-powerful vampire, feared and revered, dripping in blood and mystery—but emotionally constipated. The poor girl was practically vibrating with anxiety, and you threatened her left and right."
"It wasn't a date," Damon grumbled, resisting the urge to smack himself in the face. "It was a trade agreement. And you're a sword. Why do you even care about any of this?"
"I'm a Soul Weapon, darling," the voice purred. "And I'm literally bonded to you. If you die alone and unloved, I suffer too. So I have a very personal interest in making sure you don't drive away every halfway decent human you meet."
Damon pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not going anywhere. "How about you tell me how to stabilize my bloodline? You do know there is a sword hanging over our neck? I have ten days to figure out this shit."
"Ah... I am feeling weak again. Bye..."
Bloodreign's voice fizzled out with theatrical flair, like a dying opera singer bowing out mid-aria. Damon stood there in silence for a moment, staring into the canopy above in complete disbelief.
"Of course," he muttered. "Of course, your weakness will return now because why not?" He shook his head and walked back to the snake pond again, bringing the cauldron with him. For now, his focus was on the mana potions.
He put the cauldron on the ground and then placed his hand on the side to activate it. A soft glow shimmered across the surface of the cauldron, the dull metal pulsing faintly with system-bound runes. A familiar ding followed.
[Ding! Starter Cauldron Activated.]
Damon then used his hands to throw in some pond water. When it was almost full, he stopped.
The cauldron gave a soft hiss as the pond water settled inside, rippling faintly under the touch of the activation runes. A faint steam began to rise as the internal heat warmed the liquid from within, slow and steady.
A few minutes later, he dropped two Mistleaf herbs in first. They wilted gently into the water, turning the liquid into a soft teal color. This was it. Now, all he had to do was wait.