Chapter 397 - 321: New Business (2)

Chapter 397: Chapter 321: New Business (2)

"Shut it, you flying rat," Jean shot back. "I told you when we were young to stop calling me a Kobold."

"Alright, alright." Herbert smiled, waving his hands placatingly as he urged Jean to try it.

The Silver Wolf Count frowned, looking at the powder on his fingernail, then glanced again at the smiling Shire. Finally, he brought the snuff to his nose and took a powerful sniff.

"Ah, damn it, you..." He broke off into a series of sneezes, pulling a handkerchief from his white overcoat to rub his nose. "I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, you damn flying rat."

"Of course, it takes a moment to get used to, but soon you’ll start to feel very comfortable." Herbert grinned and leaned back against the sofa. "It’s a strange sensation. Feels like all the fatigue is just leaving my body."

"What fatigue?" Jean, having finished sneezing, continued to rub his nose with the handkerchief. "I can’t smell a thing! My nose..."

But then, his eyes narrowed a few times. "Hm. I’m feeling what you were talking about. This stuff... it definitely has a kick."

Count Jean slowly closed his eyes, savoring the feeling. "This sense of relaxation... it’s really comfortable. Awooo—"

The sound escaped him involuntarily. Though he reacted instantly and clapped a hand over his mouth, it was enough to leave Shire, sitting opposite him, stunned.

’So Werewolves really do howl,’ Shire thought to himself.

"See? You feel it now, don’t you?" Herbert smiled and pointed at the glass bottle. "What do you say we take this stuff and..."

He didn’t finish his sentence, letting his smiling eyes convey the rest. Count Jean immediately understood his meaning. "Send it to that bunch of idiots in the Royal Capital?"

"The Royal Capital?" Shire raised an eyebrow. ’How did the Savoy Royal Capital get dragged into this?’

"We’re both Border Counts. We don’t have much clout in the capital’s center of power. Plus, we’re always running around, so in Savoy’s noble circles, we’ve become a bit of a running joke." Herbert smiled as he explained their situation to Shire. "But this stuff of yours is interesting. I think it could help us stabilize our position in Savoy somewhat."

"Is that so?" Shire recalled Count Valentine’s previous predicament. It was true that in this world, border nobles were far from the political center. Many were unable to participate in the Kingdom’s major affairs. Sometimes, they’d be attacked by a neighboring noble without even knowing why, simply because their opponent had obtained a "license for revenge" from the King. As for what they were avenging, well, that depended on the situation.

"It could definitely help us make our presence felt," Count Jean said, snorting a few times to try and clear his sinuses. His voice sounded stuffy and nasal. "I can’t try this stuff again. I can’t even feel my own nose right now."

"So, how much of this stuff do you have?" Herbert ignored Jean, a wide grin spreading across his face as he looked at Shire.

Staring at the overly excited Vampire Count, a thought couldn’t help but cross Shire’s mind. ’If I tell him I have a lot of this, is he going to pounce on me, bite me, and turn me into a Vampire?’

"Not much. It’s winter now, so there’s no more of this powder available. This is the last bottle," Shire said calmly. "If you want more, you’ll have to wait until after spring."

The Dragon Claw Trees were currently all within the territory of the Feathered Serpent Kingdom. To get more, he would have to wait until after he took the City of Ten Thousand Races, by which point it would certainly be close to spring.

"So we have to wait, then." Herbert’s symptoms began to gradually subside. His canines were no longer as sharp, and the blood-red color slowly faded from his eyes. "Sorry, I might have scared you."

"It’s fine. I didn’t expect Dragon Breath to have such an effect either," Shire said with a wave of his hand.

"Jean, what do you say?" Herbert asked, turning to the Silver Wolf Count, who was still rubbing his nose.

"I have no objections. This stuff will definitely make those arrogant idiots look at us with a bit more respect," Jean said, unceremoniously picking his nostrils with a finger, a complete departure from the old-fashioned noble image he had carefully maintained when he first arrived. "But we still need to ask about the price."

"The price?" Shire paused for a moment as they both looked at him, then held up a single finger.

"One Gold Coin a bottle?" Herbert raised an eyebrow. "That’s acceptable. We can still make a profit."

’Huh?’ Shire glanced at the small glass bottle on the table. It was only about half the size of an adult’s palm, yet they had accepted a price of One Gold Coin per bottle. He had originally planned on saying ten bottles for One Gold Coin.

"It’s very difficult to produce. Once I’ve made more after spring, I’ll contact you immediately." Shire glanced guiltily at the Silver Wolf Count, but Jean was still rubbing his nose, paying Shire no mind.

It seemed the Dragon Breath had temporarily disabled the Silver Wolf Count’s sense of smell, preventing him from detecting whether Shire was lying.

"No problem. But this bottle?" Herbert picked it up and frowned. "Judging by its appearance, it’s not quite suitable for the Royal Capital."

"That’s just a standard potion bottle," Shire said quickly. "As for the bottle’s appearance, I have a few ideas."

He then began to describe the interesting-looking snuff boxes from his past life, which made both of their eyes light up. They nodded in approval of Shire’s suggestions.

"I’ll gather my people as soon as I get back and see if we can manufacture them in the styles you described," Herbert said with a smile. He then picked up the wine bottle from the coffee table and filled all three of their glasses. "Let’s celebrate our new business."

"Mmph. To business," Count Jean mumbled, raising his glass with one hand while still rubbing the bottom of his nose with the other.

Shire also smiled and raised his glass, clinking it against theirs. "At least there’s no blood in the wine this time."

......

"What’s in this?" Sofia uncorked the potion bottle, yawned, and gave it a tentative sniff.

"It’s nothing, just a normal potion," Little John stammered. "The boss asked me to give it to you. He said..."

"For me?" Before Little John could finish, Sofia tilted her head back and drank the whole thing.

"Wait!" Little John cried out. "You’re not supposed to drink it! I mean, it wasn’t for you to drink!"

Under Sofia’s questioning gaze, he spoke quickly, "The boss made a potion that’s supposed to strengthen the soul, but he doesn’t know what it does, so he wanted you to find a senior Alchemist at the Life Church to take a look at it."

"Oh." Sofia nodded. "A potion made by the Divine Chosen One."

"What ’Divine Chosen One’?" Little John blinked, not understanding what she meant.

"None of your business, Idiot Number One." Sofia waved a dismissive hand and yawned again. "Is this why you had someone find me this morning? I just feel sleepy. I don’t feel anything else."

"You’re always sleepy," Little John muttered under his breath.

"If you want the potion tested, you’ll need to have him make a few more bottles. This one’s gone," Sofia said, looking down at her hands and the rest of her body. "I don’t feel anything amiss, so it should be fine."

"However," she said, changing the subject, "if you want to find an Alchemy Alchemist, you’ll have to wait until I get back."

"Get back?"

"Yes. The Lord Bishop needs me to run some errands at the Church Headquarters, so I’ll be leaving Torch City for a while." Sofia shrugged, her tone helpless. "I don’t want to go, either. I won’t be able to sleep in at Headquarters. I really don’t know why I’m the one who has to do this."

"What kind of errands require you, specifically?"

"Just a small matter," Sofia said nonchalantly. "I need to go to the Holy Life Cathedral and meet with the Bishops there."

"I’ll come right back to Torch City as soon as I’m done," she said with a smile.