The next morning, Silak woke up early, eager to help his mother prepare the necessary herbs and ingredients for Senior Gahumdagat's blood essence. After all, it was a potent gift, one that needed careful handling.
While alchemy boasted various methods for absorbing blood essence—from concentrated pills to thick pastes—the senior had recommended a bath. A gentle solution that is well diluted for his current realm, alchemists knew, that this method also helped distribute the volatile energy evenly throughout the body, preventing any risk of explosive backlash.
He found his mother in the kitchen, quill scratching softly on parchment. "Good morning, mother!" Silak greeted, tiptoeing closer to peek at the mysterious writing.
"It's good you're awake," she responded, finally looking up. "I need your help to gather the ingredients we're missing for Senior Gahumdagat's blood essence bath." She gestured to the parchment.
"We can't simply pour the blood essence into the water. It would be a complete waste of such a precious gift. Without these supplementary ingredients, you'd absorb at most twenty percent of its energy and benefits." Her emphasis on the seemingly negligible herbs and supplementary ingredients underscored their importance.
Silak's eyes scanned the list: Moonshadow Root, Starfire Jade Powder, Black Iron Ginseng, Starlight Dew, Fire Spirit Grass, and Volcanic Ash. "Are these the only ones we're missing, Mother?"
"Not entirely. That's the full list of what we need to gather. Your father already went out for the Moonshadow Root, Black Iron Ginseng, and Starlight Dew." Iskra explained, "Those three are quite unique; they can only be gathered at night. We already have the Starfire Jade Powder and Volcanic Ash."
"So that leaves us with the Fire Spirit Grass. Where should we get that one, Mother?" Silak pondered. 'It shouldn't be too hard to gather just one ingredient out of six, right?'
"This is where it gets tricky," Iskra sighed. "There's a blacksmith who travels here to our tribe. He doesn't want money for his items, only trades." She met his gaze. "I want to send you and ask him what he wants for three stalks of Fire Spirit Grass, then let me know. We'll find a way to get it."
Silak's chest swelled. 'Mother and Father have already done so much for me. This is a good chance to help them out.'
"That doesn't sound so hard at all! Rest assured, Mother, I'll get his asking price for those three stalks of Fire Spirit Grass." He confidently declared, turning and rushing towards the door.
Silak rarely had the chance to explore the tribe's trading area since he was so focused and absorbed in cultivating. The last few times he was able to visit this place was when he was accompanying his mother, Iskra.
"Excuse me, may I know if you have an idea where the blacksmith who conducts trade located?" Silak approached and asked one merchant that's peddling his wares.
"You might be looking for Dwalin the Dwarf. You can find him at the end of the street." The merchant replied before going back to his peddling.
"Thank you, mister!" Silak expressed his gratitude before walking toward the end of the street.
The tribe's trading district, a mere handful of streets, paled in comparison to the sprawling markets of cities and towns. When the tribe first settled, merchants simply pitched tents, resting on their long journeys.
Cultivators, adventurers, and traders would group together to navigate the perilous forest, while hiring locals as guides. Slowly, this temporary gathering blossomed into a proper trade hub—a place that welcomed all, where one could rest and trade herbs, minerals, and beast parts from the wilds.
It was in these busy streets that Silak, rarely having explored beyond the confines of his cultivation, first met Dwalin the Dwarf. Small in stature, with a thick brown beard and mustache that framed his gruff face.
Silak approached cautiously. "Excuse me, mister, are you Dwalin the Blacksmith?" He omitted 'Dwarf,' just in case.
Dwalin paused, his hand still on an item in his inventory, and frowned. "Aye, I'm Dwalin. Don't know what a kid like you's doing here, but I don't need your money. I only trade for items I need."
"I understand completely, Mister Dwalin. My mother sent me to ask if you still have at least three stalks of Fire Spirit Grass you'd be willing to trade." Silak stated his purpose directly.
Dwalin's frown eased, recognizing the sincerity. "Ohh, I see. I've plenty of Fire Spirit Grass. Three stalks won't be an issue. Let's see what I need…"
He paused, considering. "Fire Spirit Grass isn't expensive or hard to gather, but it only grows in my homeland. You won't find it anywhere in this forest. As you might know, I'm a blacksmith. I don't have any urgent need for materials right now, so I'll accept anything I can use to forge armor."
"May I also know how long you'll be staying, Mister Dwalin?" Silak asked, hoping to gauge their timeframe.
"I plan to stay for at least another four days. You can look for me once you have the materials."
"That sounds great! Alright, Mister Dwalin, I'll inform my mother right away so we can prepare for the trade. Thank you!" Silak smiled, relief washing over him at the generous timeframe, and turned to rush back home.