Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage Chapter 668: A Charlatan’s Treatment

CH668 A Charlatan’s Treatment

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Dalton pitched forward onto his hands and knees, gasping for air as if he had narrowly escaped drowning.

In moments, both the dark gold Curse Sigil and its paler counterpart vanished, receding beneath his skin.

"How are you feeling?" Alex inquired with a composed demeanor.

"What... what just occurred?" Dalton sputtered between labored breaths.

"The potion succeeded in purging the curse’s lingering effects throughout your system. However, the source of the curse remains unaffected," Alex clarified.

"The residual elements of the potion are providing temporary suppression, but this effect is finite. Once it dissipates, the curse will inevitably resurface and begin its spread anew."

"So... I must continue to take the treatment potion?" Dalton questioned.

"Affirmative." Alex affirmed with a nod. "However, be advised—the more frequently you consume it, the more both the curse and your own body will build a resistance to its effects."

He paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in before proceeding.

"Furthermore, while I cannot be absolutely certain, I suspect the curse might return with even greater intensity once the potion’s efficacy has completely waned. We shall only know for sure when that time arrives."

"In any case, should you wish to ascertain the remaining time, focus your Combat Energy and direct it towards your forehead. The inscription should reappear, revealing the condition of the seal—if it can even be called that."

Dalton complied with Alex’s instruction without delay.

The captive Curse Sigil materialized once more upon his forehead.

It was effective, albeit somewhat inconvenient. He would require a reflective surface to properly assess its state.

’It would have been far more practical if it manifested on my hand or some other easily visible location,’ he grumbled internally.

Nevertheless, beggars could not be choosers.

Dalton was profoundly thankful for the temporary respite the curse's suppression provided.

He extended his senses inward, meticulously examining the condition of his own physical being.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the persistent, gnawing ache that had plagued him for so many years—a torment so ceaseless that he had long since become desensitized to it merely to endure—was absent.

The flow of his Combat Energy encountered no impediment.

There was no subconscious apprehension warning him against exerting himself too forcefully, for fear of losing control.

Having endured the harrowing ordeal of the sealing process, Dalton Asheton felt... lighter.

Lighter than he could ever recall feeling.

His spiritual energy moved precisely as he willed. His physical strength responded instantaneously. He possessed the sensation that he could finally unleash his full might without apprehension of the curse’s retaliatory effects.

It was an intoxicating sensation—one he had no desire to forfeit ever again.

"Given your present level of strength, the seal ought to endure approximately one month before failing and allowing the curse to resume its advance," Alex informed him.

"So, we would require the definitive cure to make this effect permanent?" Dalton inquired.

"Indeed. I am afraid that is the case." Alex responded with unvarnished honesty.

He then proceeded to the four large barrels containing beast blood purified and charged with divine energy, depositing a single Greater Cleansing Pill into each.

The barrels effervesced for a brief period, though significantly less vigorously than the cup Dalton had consumed.

"Take these with you. Consider it a gift," Alex stated, gesturing towards the barrels. "You may distribute them amongst your remaining subordinates. For individuals of comparable cultivation, the effect should last roughly a day. It may persist longer for those of lesser strength."

Dalton’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait. So, diluting a single pill into a cup provides a month’s suppression, yet diluting it into an entire barrel yields only a day’s effect?" he asked, incredulous.

"Correct. That is generally how principles of concentration and dilution operate." Alex replied, his brow slightly furrowed as if the question itself was rather peculiar.

"Then why dilute them into barrels at all? Four additional pills would equate to four extra months for myself—or a month apiece for the other captains." Dalton pointed out his reasoning.

Alex’s expression grew serious.

"I had presumed you felt sufficient concern for your men to wish for them to experience the same relief you are currently feeling. Was my assumption incorrect?" he asked, his gaze piercingly fixed upon Dalton.

The intensity behind that steady look conveyed a weight far exceeding that of any raised voice.

A moment later, Alex’s expression softened, and he simply inclined his head.

"If you have no need for them, you are entirely welcome to leave the barrels here," he remarked with a dismissive tone.

"I believe my colleague’s sentiment is that we would have preferred the autonomy to make that decision ourselves," Lady Rosa Mercier interjected swiftly.

"As I stated, this was a gratuity. It is my prerogative to bestow a gift in any manner I deem appropriate," Alex retorted calmly.

"My intention was never to restrict this bestowal to a solitary individual—or even merely a select few of high standing. It was intended for your entire organization, every member of which is undoubtedly enduring the same curse and affliction."

"Surely, Young Master Alex, you do not intend to suggest that we were only entitled to a single pill’s worth?" Lady Rosa pressed onward.

"That is precisely my point." Alex conceded not an inch, his posture unwavering.

"From my homeland, it is customary for an alchemist to not only recoup the cost of materials but also to receive fair compensation for their skill and effort when they supply the necessary components.

"As you can plainly observe, the quantity of materials utilized was substantial," he stated, gesturing towards the scattered, empty sacks surrounding the cauldron.

"Furthermore, the refinement process was exceedingly complex. To maximize the potion's potency and ensure no medicinal impurities would exacerbate the curse's effects on your body, I employed a unique, proprietary technique.

"All these factors contribute to the final cost."

He paused momentarily, drawing attention to his concluding argument.

"Most critically, our initial agreement stipulated the creation of a single potion to address Captain Dalton's affliction. One dose was sufficient for that objective, leaving the remaining doses as my property."

"However, you did not procure all the materials yourself," Lady Rosa countered smoothly. "We supplied the three divine statues essential for the refinement, a contribution that should significantly increase our entitlement."

"The value isn't determined by the number of statues provided," Alex responded with equal composure, "but by the quality and quantity of divine energy they contained. Regrettably, the three statues you offered were deficient.

"I was compelled to extract their energy forcefully to even meet the minimal requirements for the potion."

His expression turned sterner.

"The strain from that process alone renders me incapable of refining potions—or pills—for a considerable period. Consequently, I must be compensated for this as well."

He shook his head, his tone regaining its characteristic measured calm.

"I anticipated this potential for unnecessary dispute from the outset, which is precisely why I presented an alternative solution offering mutual benefits. I fail to comprehend your objection."

Alex's words left Lady Rosa momentarily speechless.

’How can he say he doesn’t see the problem? This is a medicine that merely suppresses a curse that has plagued our soldiers for years—a medicine he himself admitted would wane in effectiveness over time, only for the curse to rebound with even greater force.

’It functions as an addictive treatment, compelling us to rely on it indefinitely until a true cure is discovered.

’And he expects us to administer this to our entire contingent? Is that not tantamount to demanding our complete dependence on him?’ she mused, stifled frustration bubbling within her.

"You may discuss the payment arrangements with Zora," Alex stated placidly, nodding in the attendant's direction. "You can also arrange for future supplies of the treatment potion with her—or when you are finally prepared to negotiate the terms of the cure."

With that, Alex turned and departed without affording Lady Rosa another opportunity to object, leaving her entirely at Zora's discretion.

This Zora, the Majordomo of the DragonHold Enclave, commanded the respect of both Grand Mages and revered Legends. At times, she could even sway the formidable Merlin Pendragon to her will.

Individuals of lesser standing, such as Dalton and Rosa, would scarcely warrant her notice.

A subtle, professional smile graced Zora's lips as she courteously guided the two guests toward the exit.

Approximately an hour later, Alex stood near the window of the mansion's study, observing the BattleBane carriage as it departed the estate grounds.

Shortly thereafter, Zora entered the room with a progress report.

"They indicated they will consult their leader concerning the cure and will provide a response," she conveyed.

"What are your thoughts?" Alex inquired.

"As anticipated, Master of Silver Tongues—your presentation was remarkably persuasive. They are now ensnared. There is no escape." Zora replied.

Alex offered a wry smile at the mention of his familiar moniker.

That particular label, at least in Zora's estimation, was something he could never truly shed.

"I anticipate favorable news before the day concludes," she predicted confidently.

Alex inclined his head in solemn agreement.

Later that same night, precisely as Zora had foreseen, a clandestine message arrived, summoning Alex to a private meeting with the leader of the BattleBanes.

The BattleBanes were eager to negotiate the price for the cure.

Meanwhile, Alex harbored a more pressing curiosity: the specific transgression that had led the BattleBanes to incur a divine curse.

It appeared that, within a few short hours, both parties would have their burning questions answered.

***