The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 48: The Art of Potion-Making

After registering for the course, Hutson wandered into the Tavern of Idle Talk—a gathering place akin to a forum from his past life, where sorcerers posted discussions and exchanged information.

Sure enough, Maiken and Sonny’s bodies had been discovered.

Someone speculated they were killed by members of the Green Lodge. Others believed it was internal conflict. Some suggested a third party was involved.

But the discussion quickly faded into obscurity.

Two dead first-tier apprentices? In Moonlight Grove, that was barely worth mentioning—not even an interesting tavern tale.

Hutson retrieved the Ring of the Wind Spirit, channeling his mana to activate its enchantment.

"AI chip, scan my physical data."

Status Report:

Hutson MerlinStrength: 2.2Agility: 2.0 (+2)Constitution: 3.0Spirit: 6.9Mana: 100%

"A two-point increase in agility... not bad."

The bracketed numbers indicated external enhancements, and Hutson could already feel the difference.

His movements felt lighter, sharper—as if one leap could send him soaring.

"AI chip, how long does Wind Spirit’s Blessing last?"

"Approximately thirty minutes."

A thought formed in Hutson’s mind.

"If I could gather more of these blessing-type spells... optimize their mana consumption through AI chip... and stack them with my shields..."

The potential was staggering.

A sorcerer clad in layers of shields and blessings, enhanced by a network of mana-efficient optimizations.

A walking fortress.

"But blessings are temporary... unless the body itself could—"

The idea lingered, but he set it aside for later.

A Week Later – The First Potion-Making Class

"Hutson, come here for a moment."

The moment he stepped into the classroom, Lari called him over, motioning for him to approach.

From the lectern, Lari lifted a thick tome—"Foundations of Potion-Making."

"This was my old textbook. Use it."

"Thank you, Master Lari!"

Taking the book, Hutson found a seat near the front.

The classroom held twelve students in total—mostly first-tier apprentices, with three second-tier apprentices mixed in.

Once the students settled in, Lari began.

"Gentlemen. Ladies. Welcome to my potion-making course."

His gaze swept across the room, his voice carrying an undeniable authority.

"First, close your textbooks."

A pause. The students exchanged glances.

"We will not be covering a single page from it today."

Silence.

Then, with deliberate strokes of chalk against slate, Lari wrote on the board:

"EXPERIMENTAL PROTOCOLS & SAFETY STANDARDS."

Turning back to face the class, he gestured to the words.

"This is the foundation of potion-making."

"You can learn about potion properties and formulas over time. But protocols and safety? They must be ingrained in your very bones."

His expression darkened slightly.

"Many sorcerers—full-fledged sorcerers—have died due to neglecting basic protocols."

The room grew still.

"The worst-case scenario isn’t just death. Some potion experiments can cause catastrophes."

He paused for effect. Then, with measured words, he told a story.

The Alchemist Who Opened a Gateway to Ruin

"There was once a man. A sorcerer."

"He saw starving commoners perish from hunger, and so he sought to solve the problem."

"He wanted to create a potion that would grow cattle from the earth—a drink that could make food appear from barren land."

Lari’s voice lowered.

"And he succeeded. Or so he thought."

"The moment his potion spilled upon the ground, a rift was torn open—a gateway to another realm."

"The creatures that emerged? They wiped out every living thing within a thousand miles."

"Two powerful sorcerer factions fought for thirty years to seal the rift. They succeeded—but at a terrible cost."

The room was deathly quiet.

Then, Lari’s gaze swept the class, and he said:

"And do you know why it happened?"

His eyes locked onto his students.

"Because he forgot to sterilize his damn test tube."

Murmurs rippled through the classroom.

Some students stared in disbelief.

One apprentice hesitated before raising a hand. "Master Lari... did his potion actually work? Could he really have grown cows from the ground?"

Lari’s expression darkened.

"Idiot! Of course not!"

Laughter erupted across the room.

Even Hutson couldn’t help but smirk.

But just as quickly as it started, Lari clapped his hands.

Silence returned.

168 Rules of Survival

With a flick of his wrist, stacks of parchment lifted into the air, carried by magic, distributing themselves to each student.

"In your hands are 168 laboratory protocols."

"Memorize them."

"This is your first lesson—forming disciplined habits from the start."

"Over the next three hours, I will explain each and every one of these rules—why they exist and the tragedies that birthed them."

Lari’s fingers tightened around his own parchment.

"Many of these rules are written in blood."

Three Hours Later

By the time the lecture ended, all 168 rules had been covered.

Lari had spoken with the precision of experience, ensuring the class absorbed every word.

Hutson leaned back, processing the sheer magnitude of information.

"AI chip, did you record everything?"

"Potion-Making Experimental Protocols & Safety Standards fully recorded."

Perfect.

He exhaled slowly.

Alchemy was no game.

And this was only the beginning.

The Price of Advancement

"AI chip, from now on, if I make any procedural errors during experiments, notify me immediately."

"Task logged."

Hutson closed his eyes for a brief moment, committing the lessons to memory. Across the room, Lari stacked his notes and shut his lecture book with a decisive snap.

"That will be all for today." His voice was steady, but firm.

"This was the most important lesson of the entire course. If any of you—after attending my class—still end up injured or dead because of reckless potion-making, I will consider it a personal insult."

With that, the first lecture came to a close.

Two Weeks of Mastery

Lari’s Introduction to Potion-Making consisted of five sessions, covering the material over two weeks.

First Class: Experimental Protocols & Safety Standards.Second & Third Classes: Theoretical Foundations.Fourth & Fifth Classes: Practical Experiments.

Hutson attended every session with complete focus.

With AI chip assisting his studies, he ensured no details were overlooked. Any minor misunderstandings? Corrected instantly. His comprehension rate was nearly flawless.

But theory and practice were one thing—resources were another.

"One batch of Dawn Elixir ingredients costs forty mana stones. Even with AI chip’s assistance, I can’t guarantee a 100% success rate. If I prepare at least two sets, that’s eighty mana stones."

Hutson glanced at his pouch.

Five.

That was all the mana stones he had left.

Plus, he still owed Lari ten.

"Now I understand why so many sorcerers remain stuck as first-tier apprentices for years."

Without connections or backing, just acquiring basic potion resources required months or even years of grinding.

And that was just for ascending to a second-tier apprentice.

"To reach the third tier... or become a full-fledged sorcerer... the resources needed must be astronomical."

The weight of it all pressed against him. The path forward was steeper than he had imagined.

But hesitation wasn’t an option.

"Tomorrow, I return to Moonlight Forest. Slumbering Mushrooms only grow in summer—I need to harvest as much as possible before the season ends."

At his current pace, he could gather five to six mana stones’ worth per day.

If he worked non-stop for a full month, he could accumulate around 150 to 160 mana stones.

A solid plan—at least in theory.

At dawn, Hutson returned to the Moonlight Forest.

The moment he stepped past the tree line, he recognized the spot where he had killed Maiken.

The ground still bore faint traces of the battle. Scattered footprints, dried blood—small remnants of the past conflict.

The forest was eerily quiet.

Few apprentices dared venture here anymore.

After the sudden deaths of Maiken and Sonny, most first-tier sorcerers avoided the area altogether.

"Good. Less competition."

With no one around, the hunt began.

For three days, Hutson harvested relentlessly.

By the time the sun set on the third day, his tally stood at 170 Slumbering Mushrooms.

A Fading Harvest

On the fourth and fifth days, however, something changed.

The abundance of mushrooms dwindled.

No matter how far he searched, the Moonlight Forest’s outer regions were nearly stripped bare.

"This isn’t enough."

The thought gnawed at him.

Even 160 mana stones might not be enough once he factored in potential failures, potion-making expenses, and future resources.

His eyes turned toward the deep woods beyond.

"Am I going to have to venture further inside?"

The deeper parts of Moonlight Forest were uncharted territory for most apprentices.

More dangers. More unknowns.

But also—greater rewards.

Hutson exhaled slowly, staring into the shadows of the ancient trees.

The decision loomed before him.

Would he risk it?