Novel Full Chapter 422:Mareti The Alchemist
Chapter 422:Mareti The Alchemist
Ethan left Mareti to adjust to the new body. Mareti had requested a separate space to conduct experiments and research, and Ethan had agreed without much resistance.
“Damn… these mages,” Ethan muttered to himself as he walked through the corridor.
“Why are they so obsessed with doing research? Can’t you just eat, drink, and have fun?”
Even as he grumbled, he understood the difference. For mages, research was not a hobby. It was survival. They relied on study and experimentation to expand their knowledge and cultivate their souls. Without it, they stagnated.
As he approached the office, he heard raised voices inside. Sharp exchanges and verbal jabs at one another.
He pushed the door open.
Inside, Ray was standing straight with a cold expression, while Herion looked increasingly uncomfortable. Rathlos stood nearby with his usual composed posture.
Ray slowly lifted his head and stared at Herion without blinking. His calm expression did not change, but the pressure in the room was obvious.
“Greenhorns?” Ray repeated in a low voice.
Rathlos cleared his throat and adjusted his spectacles again, though his movements were slightly stiff.
“Between married men?” Rathlos added slowly.
Herion finally sensed something was wrong.
“I mean… I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, waving his hands awkwardly. “It’s just that this matter is complicated and delicate. It requires… experience.”
Ray stepped forward.
“And what kind of experience do you think I lack?” he asked calmly.
Herion swallowed.
“Well… you are not married,” he said honestly.
For a few seconds, the office remained completely silent.
The door creaked open, and Ethan walked in.
“What happened?” he asked casually as he looked at the three of them.
Rathlos turned his head toward Ethan and snorted lightly.
“Your son is hitting my heart,” he said dryly.
Ethan snapped his head toward Herion.
Herion immediately shook his head. “It’s a lie! I just said he isn’t married to understand it.”
“Speak clearly,” Ethan said.
Hearing that tone, Herion suddenly burst out.
“Father! There is a problem!”
Ethan folded his arms.
“What problem?”
Herion hesitated for a second, then blurted it out.
“My wives have become pregnant.”
“Oh?” Ethan’s eyes shifted slightly.
“Isn’t that a good occasion?” he asked calmly.
Herion groaned and ran a hand through his hair.
“But I don’t want to be a father so soon. I want to go out and play. I don’t think I have become big enough to handle it.”
He looked almost desperate.
“So can we delay my promotion and let me stay in the main estate? Let Mother take care of it for now.”
Ethan stared at him for a long second. Then a strange, cheeky smile appeared on his face.
The next moment.
BOOOOM!
A loud crash echoed as a figure was thrown out of the window with brutal force.
Glass shattered and dust rose.
Ray swallowed his saliva and looked at his father carefully.
“Father… he won’t die, right?” Ray asked cautiously.
“Nah,” Ethan replied calmly. “He is quite tough.”
Then he turned his gaze toward Ray.
“Think about yourself.”
Ray stiffened.
“Ray… we have delayed enough. It is time to give you a marriage. Herion’s wives did not want a wedding ceremony, but you can’t neglect Florence.”
Ray’s throat tightened for a moment. He stood still, absorbing the words.
After a brief pause, he nodded.
“Yes. Let’s have a marriage.”
“Good,” Ethan replied. “Inform your mother about your decision.”
Then Ethan turned to Rathlos and gave him a series of quiet instructions regarding preparations and arrangements.
…
A month later, a short distance away from Blank City near the Ice Crystal mines, a new project was underway.
After years of excavation, the ice crystal veins had grown thin. Ethan had ordered the mines to be closed and the workers transferred to another estate.
The abandoned mine shafts were cold and silent.
That place was now chosen to become Mareti’s laboratory.
Inside the half-renovated underground space, faint magical formations glowed along the walls. Tables were filled with strange tools and crystal containers.
Ethan stepped forward and looked at Mareti, who stood in Damor’s body, now fully stabilized.
“How are you adapting?” Ethan asked.
Mareti flexed his fingers slowly and replied, “I am doing quite well. With years of accumulation, I can now start exerting Legendary Realm mage strength.”
Ethan nodded.
“About potions,” he said. “Can you craft them?”
“Of course I can,” Mareti replied confidently. “In fact, I am one of the—”
His words suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Ethan casually pulled out a few sealed vials from his storage ring and placed them on the table.
The liquid inside shimmered faintly with dense mana.
Mareti’s eyes widened in shock.
“Where the hell did you bring them from?” he roared in shock.Even Ethan was bewildered seeing composure breaking for the first time.
Ethan only smiled quietly.
“Why? What’s wrong with them?” Ethan asked with a faint smile as he held the vials between his fingers.
“Wrong my ass!” Mareti screamed with his composure completely gone.
“You just don’t know the value!” he said, his voice trembling with excitement and disbelief.
He instinctively extended his hand to grab one of the vials, but Ethan reacted faster and pulled his hand back.
“Tell me first,” Ethan said calmly.
Mareti took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. The golden glow in his eyes slowly intensified, forming a faint austere shine that seemed almost sacred.
“These potions,” she said in a serious tone, “with just one glance I can tell they are ninety-nine percent effective and without any side effects. That is almost impossible to achieve.”
“Impossible?” Ethan frowned slightly. He knew that the potions available in the market were not very effective, but he had assumed that was simply because there were no good alchemists here.
Mareti shook her head firmly.
“See, it’s not just about the potion itself. It is about the materials, the processing method, and the tools used. No matter how much control you have, some variables are beyond human control.”
He walked closer to the table and pointed at the shimmering liquid inside the vial.
“Even if someone manages everything perfectly, the highest stable rate in the whole world is ninety-five percent effectiveness. And that still depends on chance and the batch quality. Even talented bastards only have a one in three probability of achieving ninety percent effectiveness. But all the potions you are holding are ninety-nine percent.”
His voice lowered as if he was speaking about something sacred.
“How can you tell with just a glance?” Ethan asked.