Chapter 38: Drunken Saint's Draught

Nathan silently memorized the full map of the Hourbound Grove into his head.

Only then did he read the quest scroll carefully. The chain-quest scroll had thoughtfully included a simple walkthrough: to subdue the Phantomveil Vine, you had to brew up the Drunken Saint's Draught.

A bloodborn creature like the Phantomveil Vine is a champion swallower of darkling aether and malevolent spirits—half illusory, half solid, straddling life and death, able to conjure a world that doesn't exist in the gap between the two realms. An ordinary person caught in this thing's illusions gets every drop of essence and blood sucked away on the spot, their soul trapped between life and death, never to come out again—unable to live as a person, unable to even be a ghost. There are only two roads for resisting the Phantomveil Vine's illusions: one, your own spiritual power is strong enough to shrug off its bewitchment; two, you lower the Phantomveil Vine's bond-power. Pour the Drunken Saint's Draught over it, and the creature drops into a deep sleep—your window to take control.

Brewing the Drunken Saint's Draught wasn't exactly hard, either—gather enough ingredients, grind them together in the right proportions, simmer the mix down, then steep it in strong spirits for a day and a night, and you're done.

Nathan thought it over privately: "Brewing the draught will eat at least two full days—a day gathering ingredients, plus a day of steeping in liquor. But without the draught, could I actually handle the Phantomveil Vine?"

Nathan thought it through long and hard, and decided to follow the walkthrough. He wasn't afraid of risk, but he had no interest in unnecessary risk. Two days' delay meant rescuing Mom a little later—a survivable outcome. Botch the subjugation of the Phantomveil Vine, though, and not only would he die, Mom would be beyond saving for sure.

"For the draught, I can gather the other ingredients inside the Hourbound Grove—but there's no hard liquor here. I'll have to go out to buy that. Today, let's get all the materials collected first."

Nathan didn't dare waste time. Following the quest scroll's hints, he set about collecting the Drunken Saint's Draught's ingredients in every direction—and to gather them as fast as possible, he didn't fight a single bloodborn beast at all.

A lot of these ingredients sat in fairly dangerous spots—bloodborn beasts prowling nearby, and void fissures sweeping through from time to time. Thank goodness the special properties of Nathan's black-light vitae made him immune to the void fissures; put any other human magus or bloodborn in his place, even one ten times mightier, and they could still have died on this errand.

Back in the yew-wood house, Sebastian listened to music, sipped coffee, and had a book open in his hands—but under that leisurely pose beat a heart churning like crazy.

Nathan had been inside the abandoned Between for ten-odd hours now with still zero word. Sebastian's mood, honestly, was nowhere near as calm as it looked from the outside.

This time he had a can't-fail reason: he absolutely had to capture the Phantomveil Vine and master the Order of the Deathless's secret art, the "Dual-Phase Phantom Ward."

Sebastian checked his phone, raised a hand, and threw out a sigil; the pitch-black passage opened in the stone wall again, and a few minutes later a bloodborn beast came charging out.

Deeply disappointed, Sebastian flicked out a bank of "black cloud," which devoured the beast clean in seconds. He was just about to pull his power back and close the passage when a familiar vitae ripple made his brow twitch despite himself, a flicker of delight crossing him.

A streak of black light bored out of the opening, hit the ground, gathered itself into a mass, and became a chubby teenager.

Seeing the empty-handed Nathan, Sebastian asked: "Find the Phantomveil Vine?"

Nathan gave a cold snort. "You think it'd be that easy?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Then we keep exploring tomorrow."

Nathan ignored him completely and walked straight out through the wicker fence.

Sebastian watched the boy's retreating back and suddenly cracked a smile, murmuring to himself: "This little guy's growing fast. Give it a few more years and I don't know if I could still keep him down."

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After leaving the little courtyard, Nathan didn't go home. He stopped by Wren's family's bakery for a few fresh-baked pastries and coaxed the bloodborn girl out for a talk. Her parents were all grins, showing zero awareness that their daughter might be at that dating age—instead they earnestly told the two of them: "If you're having fun, no need to come home too early."

Wren skipped out of Elderrow after him, all smiles. The two found a nearly empty greasy spoon and sat down, and Nathan got right to it: "Do you know how to undo a Ironweave Grub?"

Wren's face shifted slightly; she went serious and sighed. "Once a venomous bloodborn insect like the Ironweave Grub latches onto a person, only someone of great Blood Lord-tier can pull it out. There's nothing we can do to undo it."

Nathan couldn't resist asking: "Does Granny Rowan count as a great Blood Lord? And if that doesn't work, what about begging Lord Warden Aurelius? He's gotta be at least a great Blood Lord, right?"

Wren shook her head with a wry smile. "Granny Rowan really is great-Bloodborn-King-tier, and Lord Warden Aurelius is beyond even that—but a man of his standing, how could you ever get an audience that moves him? Besides, even if you called them in, it wouldn't help. Among the agreements the Concord struck with the Eighteen Towers there's a clause: no meddling in human affairs."

Nathan's brow creased. "Sebastian is forcing me to explore the abandoned Between, holding my mother's life over my head—does the Concord really not step in?"

Wren sighed. "You actually can report it to the Concord—file a complaint that Sebastian is coercing you into dangerous work. The Concord can extend you a certain amount of protection. It just can't protect your mother."

Only now did Nathan understand why Sebastian had always been so fearlessly open about it, never hiding his tracks: he'd found the loophole between the Concord and the human magi, giving his actions all the legality he needed.

The boy deflated a little, his face going sour. Seeing him like that, Wren consoled him: "Don't worry too much. Sebastian's making you work for him, but as long as you capture the Phantomveil Vine, he shouldn't hurt your mother. I already went to Granny Rowan. She's reported the matter to the Greyhaven Wardens' Office, and the Bureau will lodge a formal protest with the Order of the Deathless..."

Nathan smiled bitterly. If it weren't his own neck on the line, he'd probably have found the bloodborn's administrative procedures pretty fascinating—but right now all he wanted to do was rant about how badly bureaucracy screws people. What he needed wasn't official correspondence; it was a vigilante to serve justice.

Wren didn't know what to do either. The two of them sat in silence for a while, until Nathan finally remembered the liquor he needed to buy and said goodbye to the bloodborn girl.

Wren watched Nathan's dejected back disappear, her own heart aching too. She clenched her fist and murmured to herself: "Granny Rowan already promised she'll step in at the critical moment. It's just that she seems to have some misgiving—she made me swear not to tell you about it."

Nathan went to a supermarket, bought a case of high-proof liquor and a pot, paid one starling, opened the portal, re-entered the Hourbound Grove, and started mixing the Drunken Saint's Draught.

Working with the utmost care, he took out the several ingredients, ground them to powder in the iron pot, poured all the liquor in, set a fire under it, and boiled it for twenty minutes. Once the bubbling brew had cooled, sweating buckets, Nathan decanted the murky Drunken Saint's Draught back into several liquor bottles, then buried the bottles underground.

By the walkthrough, the potion would be ready at this hour tomorrow. A liquid that could get even a bloodborn creature as fearsome as the Phantomveil Vine drunk—Nathan asked himself what his odds would be if he got any on him, and figured he'd most likely be dead. So he took extra caution while brewing it.

Draught done, Nathan paid out one more starling and left through the portal. What came next called for patience—and waiting...