Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 356 Death of the Painter

"Of course not, Shard, it's just a potion, not a book. Besides, the formula for this magic potion is controlled by the Merman race, and the few known human ingredients have been completely extinguished, making it impossible for anyone in this era to replicate it."

The Priest said.

"Then this magic potion, is there any chance of swapping it for credits at the Academy?"

Shard asked again, and the Priest shook his head:

"Absolutely not, only Academy tasks and relic recovery can earn practical credits, that's a matter of principle, even precious magic potions cannot change that."

Shard shook his head in disappointment and placed the very spirited cat on his shoulder, Mia happily rubbed against Shard's face, completely unaware of what was actually written in the book he had brought home.

"Don't be disappointed. This magic potion, whoever you sell it to, can fetch a four-digit sum in Gold Pounds. The Elixir of Immortality allows anyone of any age to rejuvenate their body from the inside out, turning back to their youngest age with absolutely no side effects. It's said that the Witches of the Fifth Era add a drop to their afternoon tea every day, tsk tsk tsk..."

The Old Cleric couldn't help but clicked his tongue, then explained:

"According to the records in the book, this bottle you have should last at least a week."

"So it has a time limit, I thought it would make one forever..."

Shard was even more disappointed now, but on second thought, that made sense. After all, it was just a potion, if it could permanently revert someone to a younger state, then the Fifth Era wouldn't be known as the Witch's Era, but the Magic Potion's Era instead. However, even just this effect was still considered precious, especially since it was without side effects.

"Priest, are you interested in this? If you are, I can sell this magic potion to you for a low price."

Shard asked, and the Old Cleric shook his head for the third time:

"I am quite satisfied with my own body, and what use is experiencing youth for just a week? It would only plunge me into unnecessary nostalgia. Besides, even if you sold it to me for a low price, I couldn't afford that much cash."

"Is this thing very valuable? Priest, could you give it a valuation?"

"That's difficult."

Priest Augustus placed the magic potion on Shard's coffee table:

"Ancient Potions have appeared on the market, but those were the ineffective kind. The occasionally appearing ancient potions that are still potent due to various reasons are never publicly sold... It's worth at least a four-digit sum in Gold Pounds, if I were selling, I would price it at 2300 Pounds."

"Understood."

Shard slowly nodded. He planned to show it to Miss Galina. The Witch Council was tenacious about collecting items related to Witches and was quite wealthy, perhaps they would be interested in a potion offered to a Witch from a previous era by an exotic species.

Today, the Priest had come to see Shard mainly to solve a troublesome matter together. There was a fifty percent chance it involved an Evil Spirit, and a fifty percent chance it was some rarely documented Relic exerting its influence.

After discussing the potion, Shard invited the Priest for a cup of tea, left Mia at home to keep watch, and then the two of them headed out again.

This incident actually had a very small connection with Shard, and two weeks ago, on the Saturday following Godfall on Thursday, the doctor had been under investigation by the church, so he had Shard notify the rest of the group that the study meeting would be paused.

When Shard informed Priest Augustus and was saying goodbye, a man asked the priest if there was a specific type of Holy Prayer Day souvenir (Chapter 287). Shard didn't pay attention to the man, and Augustus didn't either at the time.

However, a week later, while busy with the preparations for the Holy Prayer Day, the priest unexpectedly heard of the man's death.

The man's name was Myrson Frees, he was not a devout believer, and his accidental death from falling down the stairs didn't draw much attention from the church. After his death, the rest of his family moved out of the house and placed an ad to sell it.

"The origin of the incident was like this, it seemed nothing unusual on the surface, but I was curious at the time and sought out the man's family for information. After all, it's rare for someone to specifically come to the church asking for a priest-styled small statue."

"Did you give it to him?"

"Of course, it wasn't anything valuable."

Priest and Shard took a carriage to Hangton Garden Street, a typical residential area in the eastern part of Tobesk, where every household has a separate small garden and the buildings are uniformly double-storied. People who live here are generally decent middle-class families. The deceased, Myrson Frees, was a somewhat famous painter during his lifetime.

Being "somewhat famous" meant that the artworks he created could be sold at fairly good prices.

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Getting off the carriage at the street corner, Priest Augustus and Shard walked and talked:

"What I am curious about is why the family moved out of the house after the death of the man. I thought his family didn't want to live in a place that brought back sad memories, but after finding Mrs. Fries, temporarily living in a rental apartment, she told me that Mr. Frees had some mental issues before his death, claiming sometimes that there were unseen people in the house."

Priest shrugged, a middle-aged woman walking her pet dog approached, curious about the strangers on the street. The residents here know each other, and there is even a residents' committee, so they are quite sensitive to strangers.

"If Mr. Frees had such issues before his death, why didn't he seek help from the church?"

Shard asked.

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"Detective, do you think people would immediately think it's a haunting when they occasionally hear things or have terrible nightmares?"

Priest sighed, his many years of experience at the church were extensive:

"People who truly encounter mysterious events are less than one-tenth likely to immediately realize the dangers they face. Of this tenth, more than half choose to solve it themselves, and a third seek help through various strange ways. Those who turn to the police often get referred to the church, those who turn to bizarre books or street charlatans... Only a very few, very sensible people, actually go to the church for help."

Actually, going to the church for help is considered 'nonsensical', even though people believe in God, most do not believe in the existence of ghosts.

This is the reality. The church can't publicize the existence of mysterious entities as the superstition and ignorance of the people in this era are significant, and only devout believers understand that the church is the most reliable 'police' in the dark world.

"So, Priest, do you know what exactly happened to Mr. Frees?"

"I have little information, aside from Mr. Frees himself, his wife and children did not experience anything unusual. The gentleman claimed there were others in the house before his death, and he would wake up frightened from his sleep. In the one or two weeks before his death, apart from painting, he suddenly took an interest in wood carving; Mrs. Frees gave me a wooden sculpture he had made himself, but the craftsmanship was really not commendable."

As he spoke, the priest pulled out a small wooden carving from his pocket. It was evident that the carver had attempted to carve a male figure, even coloring the features and clothing. The coloring was superb, but the carving skills could only be described with the word "poor."