Chapter 7: The Alchemist's Price
The carriage came to a smooth halt in front of a narrow, high-ceilinged shop. The sign above the door was faded, but the faint smell of sulfur and dried herbs hung heavy in the air.
Go and Ren stepped down. Go tossed five silver coins to the driver. The man's eyes widened. "Sir, your change—I don't have enough for..."
"Keep it," Go said with a dismissive wave. The driver's face lit up with a grateful smile as he tipped his hat and hurried away.
Inside, the shop was a labyrinth of shelves crowded with thousands of glowing glass vials. Behind a long oak counter sat an old man, his thick spectacles sliding down his nose as he meticulously mixed three different powders into a base of swirling blue liquid. He added two drops from a separate black bottle, and the mixture hissed, turning a vibrant orange.
The old man looked up, his eyes landing on Go. He stood up immediately. "Go! It's been a while. Come, sit, tell me what brings you here."
"Not today, Liraver," Go replied, leaning against the counter. "We're here for business. My friend's sister was struck by a Feral. She has an open wound."
Liraver's expression instantly turned serious. He moved to a locked showcase behind him and pulled out a bottle filled with a liquid so red and thick it looked like molten rubies.
"This is what you need," Liraver said, placing it on the counter.
"How much?" Go asked.
Liraver sat back in his chair, waving a hand. "For you? Nothing. Take it."
"No, Liraver. Name the price," Go insisted.
The old man sighed. "Two Purple Core Shards per bottle."
Go didn't blink. "Give us four."
Ren watched in stunned silence as Go pulled eight Purple Core Shards from his pocket—glowing crystals that represented a fortune Ren couldn't even imagine—and slid them across the table. Ren gathered the three additional bottles, holding them like they were made of thin ice.
"Now," Go said, "tell him how to use it."
Liraver leaned forward, pointing a bony finger at the red potion. "Listen carefully, boy. First, you must take a small drop on your finger and apply it slowly to the wound itself. It will burn. She will feel a pain like her blood is boiling, but you cannot stop. You must apply it until the purple veins stop pulsing."
Ren nodded, his face pale.
"Then," Liraver continued, reaching into a drawer to pull out ten bottles of a darker, wine-colored liquid, "you must use these—Heal Ver 4. You mix the purification red with this. The ratio must be two parts Heal for every one part Purification. You must strip her of her clothes and apply this mixture to her entire body. The skin must absorb it directly; it will not work through fabric. If the infection has reached her internal organs, this is the only way to pull the poison out through the skin."
Ren gripped the bottles tight. "I understand. Thank you."
Liraver looked at Ren with a hint of pity. "Be brave, kid. The treatment is almost as violent as the curse itself. If she survives the first night, she might just make it."