The dark, foggy jungle was still shrouded in a light mist early in the morning, but Ron had already arrived at the herbal medicine store.
He stared at the mottled wooden door, thoughts racing through his mind.
The miserable state of Locke and Emily kept flashing before his eyes. Everything that had happened in the past few days left him restless and sleepless. But rather than making him waver, it had only strengthened his determination to grow stronger.
He looked up at the sky. He was half an hour early.
This kind of caution had already become a habit—he dared not risk the consequences of being late.
The bronze wind chimes above the door swayed gently in the breeze, emitting crisp, melodic sounds. Though the shop was still closed, Ron could faintly sense Mrs. Allen's distinct magical presence from within.
He took a deep breath and knocked gently.
Before long, the old witch's familiar hoarse voice came from inside.
"Come in, little one."
The moment he opened the door, a strong mix of strange scents greeted him.
After a few days of training, Ron had already become familiar with most of the herbs. He could now identify the crisp sweetness of evening primrose, the sharp sting of snaketooth grass, and other unique but still-unnamed fragrances.
"You're earlier than agreed."
Mrs. Allen stood behind the counter, her green eyes glinting with approval.
"It seems you're not lazy. That's good."
Ron responded with the etiquette his instructor had drilled into him, bowing with grace.
"It is my honor to be valued by you, Madam."
"Spare me the useless flattery."
She waved her hand dismissively. Her eyes sharpened like a hawk's.
"Let me check your homework first."
Ron nodded.
"Yes, Madam. I've reviewed the section on Refreshing Potions from Basics of Potions three times and made some detailed notes."
He pulled a thick notebook from his pocket.
The pages were densely filled with observations—notations on properties, reactions, even subtle insights from his own experiments.
Mrs. Allen flipped through it casually, but her expression grew more serious as she read. A glint of satisfaction appeared in her eyes.
"Interesting… You didn't just copy the book's content. You've added your own insights. This idea—linking spiritual perception to the characteristics of herbs—is quite novel."
She closed the notebook and looked at Ron with a piercing gaze.
"Come. I have much to teach you today."
She led him through a narrow corridor to the refining room at the back of the store.
Unlike before, the workbench was already prepared. Various tools and ingredients were neatly arranged, indicating that today's lesson had been planned with care.
A bronze crucible rested on a specially designed furnace, with a strange blue flame flickering underneath.
"First, I'll teach you how to prepare a basic Refreshing Potion."
As she spoke, she gestured to the materials on the workbench.
"Though this potion is common in the market, crafting a perfect version is not simple. The quantity and timing of each ingredient must be precisely controlled."
Ron stepped forward and activated his [Medicinal Herb Identification] ability to examine the ingredients closely.
The moon grass leaves were still fresh with dew, their silver luster glimmering under the blue firelight.
The stems of the carbonyl grass released a pale blue vapor—a sign that their internal activity was still strong.
Several other ingredients—some unfamiliar—gave off unique aromas and were stored neatly in clear glass containers.
"Every ingredient has its own unique 'rhythm.'"
Mrs. Allen's voice echoed through the room.
"A true potion master doesn't just memorize properties—they learn how to resonate with the materials."
That statement stirred something inside Ron.
He recalled the insights he had during yesterday's training with the Coronal Breathing Technique. Whether it was mental strength, breathing techniques, or medicinal herbs, they all seemed governed by subtle, repeatable rules.
"You seem to have realized something?" Mrs. Allen caught the flicker in his eyes.
"Yes." Ron nodded. "Yesterday, with the star grass—when I positioned it a certain way—I could sense a faint rhythm pulsing through it."
"Exactly." The old witch's lips curved into a smile. "Every true potion master chases that balance of rhythm."
She motioned to the ingredients again.
"Now then. Show me what you've learned."
Ron took a deep breath and began preparing the potion—not by strictly following the book, but by relying on his own instincts.
The silvery energy of the moon grass reminded him of mental fluctuations. He tried to process the herbs using a rhythm akin to meditation, allowing his mind to flow with their natural energy.
[Experience points for identifying medicinal materials +2]
[Current progress: Medicinal Herb Identification (Beginner 13/50)]
[Potion Refining Experience +3]
[Current progress: Magic Potion Refining (Beginner 15/50)]
As he continued, Ron entered a focused state.
Each herb seemed to emit its own "sound," like a note in an orchestra. His task, then, was to make these notes blend into a harmonious melody.
"Fascinating..." Mrs. Allen murmured. "Are you guiding the fusion process using your mental rhythm?"
Ron paused, startled. "You mean..."
"Keep going," she interrupted. "Don't answer me. Just show me how far you can take this."
Ron nodded, turning his attention back to the potion.
As he added the final ingredient, the mixture's color began to change—from murky to clear, and finally to a warm, amber hue.
In his mind's eye, he could sense the potion's energy reaching a subtle equilibrium.
"Just as I suspected..." Mrs. Allen muttered under her breath.
"You have a natural talent for mental perception. Using spiritual rhythm to guide potion fusion—most wouldn't even think of that approach."
She scooped up a spoonful of the potion and examined it.
"It's still rough, but you're on the right path."
Just then, footsteps echoed from outside the store.
"Looks like a customer." Mrs. Allen straightened her posture and returned to her usual tone.
"I'll go greet them. You go organize the shelves. And remember what I told you—every force in this world follows its own laws. The key is perception—and how you apply it."
As she was about to leave, she turned and looked back at the crucible still steaming with potion.
"This batch isn't bad, though not quite up to standard. Consider it a low-grade product. Bottle it and take it. Use it or sell it—it's up to you."
Ron's eyes lit up. This was an unexpected reward.
He quickly expressed his thanks and began transferring the potion into several small vials.
Before leaving the refining room, Ron glanced back at the bronze crucible, deep in thought.
Today's lesson hadn't seemed complex, yet it had given him a brand-new perspective on potion making.
The concept of using mental rhythm in potion refining could very well become a breakthrough for him.
And more importantly, it confirmed a growing belief—whether it was meditation, breathing techniques, or alchemy, they all shared something fundamental.
Some hidden connection… a deeper truth waiting to be uncovered.