The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 51: The Balm of Whitefresh

Hutson gripped the hexagonal wooden plate in his hand, feeling a sudden warmth flood through his body.

The oppressive cold that had locked his limbs in place faded, and his mana, once sluggish and restrained, flowed freely again.

Croak! Croak!

The giant toad hopped closer, its bulbous golden eyes fixed on him.

And for the first time—

Shivaro showed fear.

The abyssal entity’s twisted face contorted, its hair rising on end like bristling quills.

The toad clambered to Hutson’s feet, staring up at him, croaking insistently.

Though he couldn’t understand its cries, he could feel that it bore no hostility toward him.

It sniffed the air around him with an unsettling human-like motion, then slowly turned its gaze to Shivaro.

A moment later—

Shivaro flinched.

Its tendrils of black hair stiffened, standing straight up as if electrified.

Croak!

The toad let out a sharp cry and began advancing.

And Shivaro—

Fled.

The horrifying, crawling entity that had moved at a slow, inevitable pace before—

Now scrambled backward at inhuman speed, limbs flailing in desperation.

But the toad did not rush.

It merely crawled forward, slow and deliberate, its unwavering stare locked onto its prey.

And then—

The world shifted.

Colors drained from the landscape, and everything around Hutson became black and white.

In the very next instant—

The toad swallowed Shivaro whole.

The abyssal creature disappeared into its maw, the only trace left behind a handful of writhing black hairs, twitching feebly before being sucked in.

Cracks spread through the fabric of reality itself—fractures running across the world like shattered glass.

The toad turned its gaze to Hutson.

Then—

Croak.

A soft breeze blew past.

The scent of the forest returned.

The chirping of insects whispered through the trees.

And color bled back into the world.

Hutson took a deep breath, looking around—

He was standing in the exact spot where he had first realized something was wrong.

Quickly, he rushed toward the area where Luen and his men had been consumed.

Nothing remained.

No corpses.

No blackened traces.

Even the three human skins had vanished.

He exhaled. "Damn. Luen probably had a lot of good loot on him."

But after a brief moment of regret, he shook his head.

I should just be grateful I survived.

None of it made sense.

The bizarre toad, the abyssal horror, the warped space—

And most of all, the hexagonal wooden plate.

The artifact that had saved his life no longer glowed, reverting to its ordinary, unassuming state.

"The Six-Ring Tower..."

The engraved tower on the plate... what did it represent?

When Hutson first arrived at Moonlight Grove, he had searched the library for information.

There had been no mention of any Six-Ring Tower.

Either it didn’t exist in their records, or...

It was hidden in the restricted archives—beyond his current access level.

For now, there were no answers.

Only more questions.

The Chaos to Come

Hutson left Moonlight Forest immediately.

He had no intention of returning anytime soon.

There were two reasons:

The presence of Shivaro.

This was an abyssal entity, a creature from another plane.Why had it appeared here?Why was it chasing Luen and his men?Luen’s death.

Three Green Lodge sorcerers had perished on Moonlight Grove’s territory.Green Lodge would not ignore this.And knowing Moonlight Grove’s pragmatic nature, they wouldn’t even bother offering an explanation.Conflict was inevitable.

If war broke out—

The Moonlight Forest would become a battleground.

And Hutson, a mere first-tier apprentice, had no reason to be caught in the crossfire.

The first thing Hutson did upon returning to Moonlight Grove was head straight to the mission hall.

There, he exchanged his 170 Slumbering Mushrooms for 17 mana stones.

Andrew, the clerk, was once again working at the counter.

When he saw the sheer amount of mushrooms Hutson handed over, his expression shifted.

Not just surprise—

Suspicion.

His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but he held back.

It was only after Hutson left with his reward that Andrew muttered under his breath:

"Could it have been him...?"

After leaving the mission hall, Hutson wandered the town before stopping at an herbal shop.

The store owner, a middle-aged man with his head wrapped in layers of cloth, stood at the entrance, laying out baskets of herbs to dry under the sun.

Hutson approached.

"Do you have Whitefresh leaves, beetroot, and golden bellflower?"

The shopkeeper chuckled.

"You should’ve just asked for Whitefresh Healing Potion ingredients."

Hutson raised a brow.

The man continued, "I sell them in pre-measured sets—two mana stones for one batch."

After a bit of conversation, Hutson learned something valuable:

Most common potions had pre-packaged ingredient sets.This eliminated the need to buy individual herbs.

The market price for a bottle of Whitefresh Healing Potion was five mana stones.

If he could brew them successfully, he’d make a three-mana profit per batch.

Demand was high.

Most apprentices and even full-fledged sorcerers relied on healing potions for missions.

The price might seem steep, but for a sorcerer whose life was on the line, it was an essential expense.

"I can’t return to Moonlight Forest anymore."

"Which means I need a new way to earn mana stones."

Potion-making just might be the answer.

Hutson was too weak—for now.

Many of the available missions were too dangerous, and until he grew stronger, he had to find alternative ways to earn mana stones.

After careful consideration, he came to a conclusion—

Potion-making.

For most sorcerers, alchemy wasn’t profitable unless one specialized in it.

The success rate of brewing potions was infamously low for those without extensive training.

Most apprentices who attempted to profit from alchemy ended up losing more mana stones than they made.

But Hutson had AI chip.

A tool that could analyze, optimize, and enhance his potion-making efficiency.

With that advantage, his success rate would be far higher than the average apprentice.

"Ten sets of Whitefresh Healing Potion ingredients," Hutson said.

It was a bold move.

He only had 22 mana stones left—and this purchase would drain nearly everything.

The shopkeeper, a middle-aged man wrapped in layers of cloth, raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Ten sets?" he asked.

Then he smirked.

"Alright."

He had seen many apprentices try this route before.

Young sorcerers, desperate to make quick money, throwing their savings into potion-making—only to fail spectacularly.

Most of them barely broke even.

Many lost everything.

But it wasn’t the shopkeeper’s problem.

As long as he made his profit, he had no reason to warn them.

After securing the ingredients, Hutson headed to the flea market.

There, he purchased second-hand alchemy tools:

CruciblesTest tubesBeakersBalances

The equipment was worn but functional, and he managed to get two full sets for just a single gold coin.

A bargain.

Returning home, Hutson cleared out an entire room, dedicating it solely to potion-making.

The space had to be dust-free, controlled, and sterile.

He reached into his spatial ring and pulled out a small, yellow, floating ear.

Murmuring a few arcane syllables, he activated it.

The ear hovered into the air, spinning lazily before zipping around the room.

It moved methodically, sweeping across the walls, ceiling, and floor—

Absorbing every speck of dust, dirt, and debris.

This was a common magical tool among sorcerers.

A Cleanse Ear.

No one knew where the absorbed dust went—but once something was sucked inside, it never came back.

That was why before using it, sorcerers always made sure to secure anything valuable.

By the time it finished, the room was pristine.

Ready for alchemy.

Hutson exhaled, looking over his materials.

This was a gamble.

But if it paid off...

He wouldn’t just earn mana stones—he would establish a stable source of income.

And in this world—

Wealth was power.

And power was everything.