Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 5: Recruitment Information and Potion Preparation

As Ron and his companion drew nearer to the heart of the bustling marketplace, his gaze started shifting restlessly in all directions.

The sights and sounds surrounding him brimmed with an air of unfamiliar wonder—

Vendors' unique calls echoed back and forth:

"Fresh Demon Snake Gallbladder! Harvested fresh this very morning, I assure you!"

"Top-quality Illusion Scale Powder! Straight from the Land of the Fairies!"

"Special deal! Failed experimental specimens at half price!"

Stalls overflowed with eye-catching wares, most of which Ron had encountered solely through pages in books

—tiny luminous figures trapped in glass vials, vibrant crystals hovering in the air, enchanted creatures bound by an Immobile Spell...

A merchant sporting goat horns waved eagerly in their direction: "Gentlemen, care to inspect? This is authentic Goblin handiwork..."

"Ignore him," Andre murmured softly, "that fellow peddles nothing but fakes, targeting naive candidate apprentices like us."

Nearby, a snake-person woman with an elongated tail deftly measured out a chameleon salamander, her slim forked tongue darting out now and then as she conversed:

"Hiss hiss... These come from the Abyss Edge, packing three times the strength of ordinary varieties. Purchase from me, and I'll throw in a discount..."

"We shouldn't linger here..." Andre tapped his shoulder, urging him on, "The priority is gathering ingredients for the Scorching Essential Oil—let's hurry."

While weaving through the crowded market, Ron's eyes locked onto a distant sight that drew his focus.

A man in his middle years, clad in a pristine white Wizard Robe, guided over a dozen apprentices toward the School’s Central Hall.

"Who's that Wizard?" Ron inquired in a hushed tone.

Andre traced his line of sight, a spark of admiration flashing in his expression:

"That's Master Fernandez, a full-fledged Official Wizard expert in Elemental Magic. He offers several paid sessions each month, dedicated to fielding inquiries from promising apprentices."

"Official Wizard?" Ron's chest tightened, a blend of awe and dread surging for such a figure.

From what he knew, Official Wizards wielded the authority to transform apprentices into test subjects, embodying an invincible aura of horror.

Andre caught the drift of his unease and offered a gentle smile:

"Relax a little. While Official Wizards do command tremendous might, the majority refrain from misusing it. In particular, those who take on mentoring roles are truly committed to fostering emerging talents."

"So you're saying they won't just snatch apprentices for experiments?" Ron probed, skepticism lingering in his voice.

"Absolutely not," Andre denied with a shake of his head:

"They discipline only those apprentices breaching major School regulations or deal with hazardous entities starting to mutate. Actually, displaying sufficient aptitude and promise would make them eager to provide advice and support."

Ron's perspective adjusted, diverging a touch from his earlier assumptions: "Then why does fear grip everyone..."

"Because the disparity in power between Official Wizards and apprentices is vast, like separate tiers of existence across species."

Andre elaborated seriously, "Even an Advanced Apprentice appears as vulnerable as an infant against a genuine Wizard."

This insight eased Ron somewhat, at least sparing him the anxiety of becoming an experimental subject for excelling too brightly.

In this setting, excelling while adhering to rules might just be the optimal path to endurance.

"Once we've secured the materials, if time allows, you ought to glance at the mentor notice board."

Andre recommended, "It details the fields where each Wizard offers tutelage, plus their standards for selecting pupils. Even as a Candidate Apprentice, knowing these details proves useful."

"Thank you very much," Ron expressed with genuine gratitude.

.........

The moment they nudged open the timeworn wooden entrance of the herb shop, an onslaught of potent aromas assaulted their senses.

Inside, the space remained dimly illuminated, with flames dancing on bronze candelabras that threw eerie, warped shadows from the crammed shelves onto the walls.

"We require..."

Andre fished out a wrinkled notebook, scanning the list to pinpoint items: "Start with Red Sand Grass—we'll take three portions."

He gestured toward a glass jar speckled with red, instructing, "That's it; ensure the rhizomes stay whole..."

Ron surveyed the jumble of ingredients lining the shelves, feeling a touch daunted.

"What's this?" Ron indicated a spherical container holding clusters of clear orbs suspended inside, akin to eggs.

"Egg sacs from the Moonlight Jellyfish."

The fair-haired youth answered without glancing up, "They go into crafting transparent potions, but they're pricey—one costs twenty Magic Stone Fragments."

"This way," Andre shifted to different shelves, "Peacock Feather Pollen... there we go."

He gingerly removed a vial containing golden dust, which shimmered with tiny glimmers under the subdued lighting:

"Handle this with care—any dampness will ruin it."

"We also require the stem from Carbon Breath Grass..." he kept hunting: "The one releasing wisps of smoke... right, that's the one."

Ron observed as Andre navigated the aisles with ease, pausing at times to scrutinize a specific ingredient's condition.

"This Silverlight Mushroom seems somewhat withered," he remarked, eyeing the silver-glowing fungus with a furrowed brow, "but it'll suffice."

After slotting the final piece into the cloth sack, Andre dusted off his hands, "All set now. These supplies should let you attempt several batches..."

Here, he paused, eyeing his belt where the coin pouch hung slimmer than earlier.

Right as they prepared to depart post-payment, the shopkeeper's gravelly tone rang out, "Hold on, you two young visitors."

She was an elderly lady etched with deep creases, one eye glowing an unearthly green amid the faint candle glow:

"Do Magic Potion Refining intrigue you? I'm seeking an assistant right now..."

Ron's pulse quickened briefly, yet Andre tugged him toward the exit, "Apologies, we're pressed for other tasks."

Only after distancing themselves from the shop's threshold did Andre compress his lips and clarify:

"That old lady has a reputation for harshness, cycling through helpers often. The compensation is generous, sure, but she withholds even a single Magic Stone Fragment during trial periods. Eventually, folks avoid squandering time there."

That explained it—it matched his impression perfectly.

"I see," Ron pondered aloud, "Yet with such high wages, her expertise must be solid."

Andre read his intent clearly, "You're not considering..."

"I'm set on trying tomorrow," Ron affirmed with a nod, then outlined his intentions:

"With my current need for hands-on practice, it's smarter to seek a seasoned expert's oversight than to burn through funds experimenting solo."

"Very well," Andre exhaled, "but heed this: the shopkeeper's mood swings badly. Fall short of her expectations, and you likely won't pass probation."

"Got it," Ron replied with a faint grin, "that's why I'd like you to come with me tomorrow."

He assisted Andre in organizing the diverse materials, "I'll head back later to schedule a meeting with her."

Witnessing Ron's assured poise, Andre felt an odd hunch—this application could turn out unlike the rest.

He passed the sack brimming with varied items to Ron, a subtle trace of concern in his gaze.

"These ought to hold you over for a while," Andre noted somewhat hesitantly, tacking on, "Keep in mind, each botched attempt squanders supplies."

Ron accepted the sack, picking up on the other's apprehension.

He's likely fretting I'll demand my money back if I fail, Ron reflected quietly.

After all, fifty Magic Stone Fragments represent a substantial sum for the Thirteenth Prince at present.

Once back in the chamber, the golden-haired lad held his tongue further, diving straight into instructing Ron on brewing the Scorching Essential Oil.

The equipment proved quite basic—a cracked earthenware pot doubled as the heater, several bent metal rods acted as stirrers, and even the measures were makeshift graduated vessels.

"Begin by slicing the roots and stems of the Red Sand Grass."

Andre leaned in to monitor the unique response inside the pot, persisting with directions:

"Correct, exactly so—retain the root hairs, as they hold the densest Fire Element."

With ingredients added one by one to the pot, an odd warmth started roiling inside.

Crimson fluid bubbles erupted relentlessly atop it, now and then releasing faint pops.

"Next, introduce the Peacock Feather Pollen..."

Andre's tone sharpened abruptly, "Hold! Avoid dumping it straight in—the reaction's fierce! Disperse it gradually, allowing even coverage over the liquid."

Ron adhered meticulously to the guidance, seeing the golden dust create a full circle on the liquid, then gradually submerge, igniting wave-like blazes.

The initial attempt flowed without hitches thanks to Andre’s oversight. For the subsequent round, Andre intentionally withdrew, staying mute to gauge Ron’s actual skill.

Astonishingly, Ron's actions flowed seamlessly, reminiscent of vast prior experience.

Each phase hit the mark precisely, timings managed flawlessly.

While distant from authentic Magic Potion Refining, Ron felt assured he could handle this straightforward method of preparing Body Tempering Essential Oil.

"Does this boy truly possess a knack for potions..."

Andre whispered to himself, "My father's lessons came under far superior setups, yet it required countless efforts from me before..."

Upon finishing the second "Scorching Essential Oil" batch triumphantly, a line of ethereal data popped up in Ron’s vision:

[Successfully completed a refining√]

[Conditions for profession change met:

1. Basic Magic Potion Making (proficient 9/100)√

2. Completed one refining√

Would you like to immediately change profession to——Magic Potion Apprentice?]