Chapter 420

After finally catching his breath, Negril cursed: "Silvercoin, I nearly choked saving you—how are you going to repay me?"

Silvercoin said, moved: "I'm so touched, Lord Negril! I'll find you ten little female dragons to serve you."

Negril roared: "Damn it! Are you trying to serve me or kill me?!" After yelling at Silvercoin, Negril leaned close and whispered: "Two will do."

A mocking laugh echoed from his body; a wisp of smoke rose and curled into Du Luo: "You dragon who remains a boy till death—you've never even chased a girl, yet you're talking so big. I'll chat with Nai Aili later."

"I'll bite you to death!" Negril snarled in rage.

While they chatted, An Ge had already suppressed the enemies—he alone used Level One spells to pin down dozens of swordsmen and mages in the manor; the magic artillery was that effective.

The enemies were blasted into chaos, scattering in all directions, clearing vast space around the tomb entrance; many even discarded their armor and weapons, fleeing in disgrace, abandoning the bloodlust potions just issued to them.

Du Luo waved his Alchemy Rod from afar, and one of the bloodlust potions flew straight into his hand.

He uncapped it, poured out a drop, tapped it with his Alchemy Rod—Disassembly Spell—and soon his expression turned contemptuous: "Drug-induced frenzy. Trash."

Silvercoin had heard this term before—his own antidote for Corrosion Scar had been dismissed by Sawa as low-grade "drug stimulation." Was this bloodlust potion the same as Corrosion Scar?

Seeing Silvercoin's confusion, Du Luo explained casually: "Potionists, also called alchemists, mostly manifest their power through potions. Low-grade potions are this kind of 'drug stimulation'—using the drug's inherent properties to trigger a part of the body's ability, but the side effects are extreme."

"Mid-grade potions don't rely solely on drugs—they use special processing to alter substances fundamentally, producing unique effects. For example, the Lord's Holy Essence Fluid and Insect Ash Fluid both fall into this category."

"As for higher-grade potions, they're no longer mere potions—things like the Concentration Holy Chalice that grants godhood, the Revival Elixir that brings the dead back to life, the Transformation Elixir that changes form—all belong here."

Though Du Luo was an alchemist, alchemy and potion-making are inseparable; many techniques are shared. If given the same formula, Du Luo's potions would far surpass Sawa's half-baked ones.

No sooner had Du Luo finished than a rat's head suddenly popped up from the ground, excitedly exclaiming: "Master, you summed it up perfectly—are you a Potion Master?"

"Huh?" Du Luo raised an eyebrow and waved his hand; the rat immediately floated out of its hole, squeaking frantically.

"Transformation Elixir?" The rat landed in Du Luo's palm; he studied it, murmuring hesitantly.

He cupped his palm—and instantly, the rat's eyes dulled, its spark vanished, returning to normal rodent gaze.

"No—it's a consciousness projection. Strange rat. It can withstand human consciousness." Du Luo mused curiously.

Du Luo released his grip, holding the rat in his palm. After a while, the rat wriggled and struggled; its eyes gradually changed, finally gleaming with sharp intelligence—an awareness beyond rat intellect had been projected.

"You're the potionist outside, aren't you? What's your name?" Du Luo asked.

"Master, you guessed right—it's me! I'm Lida Luo, a junior potionist. Honored to meet you. Is that the legendary Alchemy Rod Set you're wearing?" Lida Luo asked excitedly, speaking through the rat's vocal cords—thin, shrill, squeaky.

"Oh? You know the Alchemy Rod Set? Where did you hear of it?" Du Luo asked, surprised.

"It's recorded in the Undead Holy Flame," Lida Luo said.

Du Luo nodded—that must be something the Emperor had recorded in the Undead Holy Flame. He smiled: "Just a replica. Only the Alchemy Rod has any effect; the hat and cloak are purely decorative."

Since the Alchemy Rod Set was recorded in the Undead Holy Flame, people in this world must know its function—if they realized this one was real, they'd go mad.

"Oh… a replica…" Lida Luo's tone dripped with disappointment, but he quickly perked up: "Then, Master, could I see your mid-grade potions—the Holy Essence Fluid and Insect Ash Fluid? And the high-grade ones—Concentration Holy Chalice, Revival Elixir, Transformation Elixir—what do they look like?"

Du Luo's expression turned odd. "You're asking me for lessons? Did you pay tuition?"

This Lida Luo was overly familiar—eavesdropping was already vile. Du Luo hadn't been on guard before, but now he was alert: there was definitely no second rat or small animal nearby.

From now on, Du Luo would stay wary of any strange small creatures. Someone in this world could project consciousness into animals? It was truly astonishing.

Carrying consciousness required a certain soul strength—small animals simply lacked it. For example, projecting consciousness into a rat was like forcing a cow into a bottle—it would just burst.

The rat hadn't exploded, so Lida Luo must've used some special method. That's why Du Luo was so patient—he wanted to find out how. But Lida Luo's unusual "eagerness to learn" was making him both amused and exasperated.

"Tuition? I'll pay, I'll pay—I'll pay everything! Master, will you take me as a student? I'll give you all my wealth!" Lida Luo pleaded.

"How much is your entire fortune?" Du Luo felt a bad premonition. He instinctively glanced at Luo Ke—only to find she hadn't caught up yet.

"I have three hundred soul crystals—that's my entire fortune. Is it enough, Master?" Lida Luo asked cautiously.

Sure enough—even poorer than Luo Ke.

Du Luo said: "Keep it. Tell me—how can you project into this rat without bursting it? Did you raise it specially? What did you feed it?"

"God Potion. I fed it God Potion since it was young," Lida Luo said.

"Projection… that's not projection. It's consciousness transfer. What's the range of your transfer?" Du Luo asked.

"Fifty... fifty meters. Uh, Master, when you say 'projection,' do you mean the kind from dimensional projection?" Lida Luo asked nervously, his tone like a beginner in a beginner's magic academy hearing the name of a forbidden spell.

"Fifty meters? That close?" Du Luo chuckled. "Kid, let me show you a magic trick."

Before Lida Luo could react, Du Luo's cloak swept out—a puff of smoke rose, and he vanished.

Soon after, another puff of smoke appeared—Du Luo reappeared, dragging a human unconscious on the ground.

The rat in his other hand stared at the human, then at Du Luo, then slowly realized what had happened—he'd been caught.

The human Du Luo brought back was Lida Luo's body. He'd lost consciousness because his consciousness had projected into the rat. But since the projection range was so short—he'd hidden just fifty meters outside the courtyard—Du Luo had instantly dragged him out.

He'd thought he was safe—his consciousness could retreat to his body even if the rat died. Now his body was in Du Luo's hands too.

Lida Luo obediently offered a vial: "This is the God Potion. It enhances spiritual power, allowing the creature to hold stronger consciousness. One vial can sustain dozens of rats or rabbits."

Du Luo opened it and couldn't help laughing: "This is just grave grass—extracted, refined, diluted, then reinforced with Solidify Spell, plus artificial fragrance. All twisted beyond recognition so you won't recognize it, then given a flashy name—God Potion? Hah."

Negril leaned over, sniffed, and his eyes lit up: "Huh? Smells pretty good."

"Smells good? Then it's yours." Du Luo shoved the entire vial into Negril's mouth.

"Pah! Pah! What are you doing?! You're trying to poison me!" Negril spat frantically, but it was too late—most of the potion had already gone down, dissolving instantly, impossible to spit out.

Du Luo smiled: "Drink it. It'll help you. You complained you couldn't fly, right? Boosting your body's spiritual power lets you hold more of your power. One vial isn't enough."

As he spoke, Du Luo pulled out a large handful of grave grass and began refining it on the spot. One tap of his Alchemy Rod—and the grave grass shattered into powder.

Though he could handle the next steps himself, he still grinned and asked An Ge: "Lord, your extraction and purification skills are better—can you enhance the potion's potency?"

The attacking enemies had all been blasted beyond the walls. With nothing else to do, An Ge casually began refining. Having refined so much Holy Essence Fluid, he effortlessly extracted the essence of the grave grass and purified it with the Skin-Blemish Removal Spell.

This high-purity grave grass fluid bubbled continuously in the vial, as if something within were fermenting.

Du Luo swept his Alchemy Rod, imprinting seals into the vial one by one. After a long while, he finished and handed it to Negril: "Another one. Just inhale this."

Negril snatched it eagerly, grinned, and pressed it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

While Du Luo brewed, Negril had already felt the benefit of the potion he'd swallowed—how to describe it? Like chronic constipation suddenly clearing.

His current body was alive—so it suffered all the downsides of living things: fatigue, thirst, hunger. Just carrying An Ge here had nearly exhausted him.

Yet he was the God of Knowledge, brimming with divine power—but his body's limits prevented him from using it. The greatest restriction was spiritual power.

If his body's spiritual power were strong enough, he'd control it more easily, could cast some spells. If his strength was insufficient, he could compensate with mana—summoning wind elements would make flying easier, carrying people less exhausting…

Pah! Carry a damn thing—let him fly himself. I'm not a mount. Negril shook his head violently, banishing the thought.

As he thought, he inhaled—and his spiritual power steadily grew.

Lida Luo stood stunned. The "God Potion" he'd paid dearly for was just grave grass? Damn it! Those merchants swore it was made by Undead Potionists!

What stunned him more was that Du Luo instantly recognized its composition—and his companion had casually refined a superior potion, one you inhaled.

Inhaled potions were unquestionably superior—pureness had to be extremely high, since lungs had weak self-cleaning functions; impurities would damage them.

Swallowed potions didn't need purity—anything unabsorbed could be expelled.

Higher purity meant better absorption and faster results. Just this alone made it countless times superior.

Each breath Negril took strengthened his spirit. Unable to contain himself, he exhaled—a dragon's breath burst forth.

"Hahahaha! I can breathe fire now! Watch me burn your ass!" Negril excitedly blew another breath toward Du Luo.

The moment he exhaled, Du Luo punched him in the nose, slamming his mouth shut. The dragon's breath was trapped inside, spewing out through his teeth.

"Damn it! Hot! Hot! Hot! Blisters!" Negril cursed, sprinting toward An Ge, mouth wide open to show the blisters.

After several Cleansing Spells, the blisters vanished. Negril wasn't angry—he happily hugged the vial and kept inhaling. He'd always wanted to grow stronger quickly, but this method of boosting spiritual power seemed even faster.

At that moment, a commotion erupted outside the manor.

After An Ge arrived, he blasted everyone out of the courtyard. The enemies couldn't break in, so they surrounded the place instead, refusing to retreat—they were waiting for reinforcements.

When Du Luo had captured Lida Luo earlier, there'd been a brief disturbance, then silence. Now the commotion flared again, growing fiercer, until suddenly—everyone fled.

The enemies surrounding the manor abandoned even Lida Luo, vanishing in a rush.

Marquis Fiew peered out, puzzled: "Why did they retreat? What happened? Did the North Wind Clan send someone back?"

Aside from North Wind Clan reinforcements, Fiew couldn't imagine any force that would make Count Gula withdraw.

The answer came quickly—a distant roar of "Aoooo!" echoed. The little angel and little zombie stretched their arms for balance, sprinting in while yelling, followed by Luo Ke, Ji Li, and others.

"Huh? How did you get in?" Negril asked, confused. "The city gate was closed. Did you break through?"

Negril had carried An Ge ahead. The little angel and zombie had been herding skeletons behind, but when they reached the city wall, the gate was shut—they'd had to fly over with An Ge.

Now they'd entered so easily—had the gate opened?

Luo Ke said: "I don't know. When we brought the skeletons to the gate, the guards opened it themselves and greeted us warmly, so we came in."

Negril, Silvercoin, and Fiew all covered their faces: "You just walked in when the gate opened? Didn't you think it might be a trap?"

Luo Ke scratched her head, sheepish: "We didn't think that far…"

Silvercoin suddenly slapped his thigh: "I get it! The guards must've mistaken us for the skeletons from the city cemetery. Gula's retreat was probably a misunderstanding too—they thought the cemetery skeletons had mobilized, so they fled."

Fiew turned sharply, locking eyes with Silvercoin: "We were worried about maintaining order after winning the mayoral bid—we didn't have enough people. If they're mistaken, let's make it real."

"Lord, please place the skeletons in key, visible spots around the city—ten or so in each location. Don't make them do anything. Just let them stand there."