She poured a clear liquid from a silver spoon onto a strip of test paper.
"Do you know what went wrong here?"
Ron observed the puddle closely. Activating his [Herbal Identification] ability, he noticed tiny impurities moving within the liquid.
"It's the thorny vine," he replied after a brief pause. "When I was stripping the outer skin, some fibers must've gotten mixed in."
"Very good," Mrs. Ellen finally smiled, a rare expression of approval surfacing on her face.
"Being able to spot such minor flaws shows that you do have talent in this field."
She walked behind the counter and pulled out a rolled parchment from the drawer.
"This is the job description and the pay scale for an assistant."
Ron accepted the parchment and carefully read through its contents:
Responsibilities:
Arrive at the shop one hour early every morning for preparation.
Responsible for organizing medicinal materials and cleaning equipment.
Assist in refining basic Magic Potions.
When he reached the final line, his eyes widened slightly in disbelief.
"The remuneration is…" he murmured.
"That's right," Mrs. Ellen said, nodding. "Two magic stone shards per day, plus free use of the shop's refining equipment."
She added calmly, "Of course, if you manage to help formulate any qualified Magic Potions, you'll also receive extra commission."
This was an incredibly generous offer. Typically, part-time work for Apprentices only paid one shard per day, at most.
"Now that we've discussed pay," Mrs. Ellen continued, "let's talk about your schedule."
"You'll work three hours every morning. The rest of your time is yours to arrange as you see fit."
She paused, and her tone turned serious.
"But I must remind you of one thing — any recipes you learn here are to be kept absolutely confidential. Breaching that contract…"
Her eyes turned cold and sharp.
"I don't think you want to know what happens."
Ron nodded immediately. In the Black Mist Forest, the penalties for breaking contracts could be more horrifying than death.
"Then it's settled." Mrs. Ellen took out a quill and laid it beside the contract. "You'll start tomorrow. Don't forget — be early…"
"Wait." A voice cut in suddenly. Andre, who had been silently standing nearby, finally spoke.
"You're just going to hire him like that? Shouldn't there be more investigation?"
"Investigate?" Mrs. Ellen smiled faintly. "I've lived long enough to recognize talent."
She looked Ron up and down.
"He's awakened a valuable talent and shows clear diligence."
"Moreover," she continued, "being able to grasp the fundamentals of Potions to this degree in such a short time shows his high comprehension."
She turned to Andre. "Not everyone can study that book thoroughly, right?"
Andre shrugged helplessly. "Indeed. I've been working through it for half a year and still haven't made much progress."
"So then," Mrs. Ellen pushed the contract and quill closer to Ron, "this is a mutually beneficial arrangement. You need a place to practice, and I need a capable assistant."
From beneath the counter, she pulled out a small bottle of pale blue liquid.
"Before signing, drink this."
Ron accepted the bottle, but didn't drink immediately. He examined the liquid carefully, activating his [Herbal Identification] skill again.
Under the dim light, the pale blue fluid displayed an unusual flow, its edges faintly glowing.
This was consistent with the characteristics of a truth potion described in Fundamentals of Potions.
Judging from the clarity and viscosity, it seemed to be a fully refined and safe version, free from harmful components.
"Is this… a truth potion?" Ron asked, feigning ignorance.
"That's correct. It reveals whether someone harbors ill intent," Mrs. Ellen explained.
"In the Black Mist Forest, this is basic protocol."
After confirming it was safe, Ron downed the potion in one gulp.
This level of verification was reasonable in a place like this.
"Very good," Mrs. Ellen said with satisfaction. "I like cautious people. Recklessness will get you killed here."
Her expression turned stern.
"One more thing — some of our guests have special identities. Whatever you see or hear, you must keep it to yourself."
Ron nodded seriously. This warning actually made him feel reassured.
An employer who sets clear rules is much easier to work with than one who hides things.
Early the next morning, when the sky was still dim, Ron was already waiting at the herbal medicine shop's entrance.
A thick mist lingered in the streets. Here and there, small glowing insects fluttered through the haze.
These were Lantern Butterflies, a species unique to the Black Mist Forest. Drawn by fluctuations of magical energy, they often gathered near potion shops.
Ron's early arrival was thanks to Andre's warning the night before.
"That Old Witch absolutely hates lateness," Andre had told him while helping prepare materials for Ron's second body tempering.
"Last month, an Apprentice candidate showed up five or six seconds late and was literally whipped away by the moving vines at the entrance."
To be safe, Ron had arrived a full half hour early.
After finishing his meditation the night before, he'd reviewed sections of Fundamentals of Potions concerning medicinal material storage and equipment maintenance.
He was starting with basic tasks, so he intended to perform them perfectly.
This was one of the few things his experience at the noble manor had taught him — to win others' recognition, you had to show sincere effort.
As he stood waiting, the long, resonant chime of a bell echoed through the forest.
It marked the shift from night to day — a signal of time kept in the Black Mist Forest. It was said the bell carried magical energy, capable of clearing lingering evil from the night.
As the final note faded into the mist, the shop door opened with a soft creak.
"Come in," came Mrs. Ellen's voice from within. "You're even more punctual than I expected."
The moment Ron stepped through the door, an overwhelming wave of strange scents hit him.
Now that his profession had changed to [Potion Apprentice], Ron found his sense of smell had become much sharper. He could now distinguish various ingredients more clearly.
A sour, slightly sweet aroma — that was likely the nectar of night-blooming jasmine, used in calming potions.
A sharp, fishy scent — probably from the root of snake tooth grass, known to neutralize common poisons.
There were also some complex, layered scents — both familiar and mysterious — that he couldn't quite place.
The shop's interior looked different from the day before.
The shelves had been rearranged. Some rare herbs marked "Sold" were now missing, replaced by unfamiliar materials Ron didn't recognize.
"Finished looking?" Mrs. Ellen's voice came abruptly from beside him.
"Sorting them is a lot more fun than staring," she said dryly.
She gestured toward a pile of bottles and jars stacked haphazardly in a corner.
"Start by organizing those. Make sure you sort them by medicinal property. Don't let incompatible items mix — the results can be… unpleasant."
Ron approached the pile. The jars contained an assortment of dried herbs, roots, powders, and liquids. Some were already beginning to react, faintly glowing under the shop's dim lighting.
He took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeves.
It was time to begin.