When he saw Damocles again, the potion master who had seemed so meek during negotiations was now staring with stern focus at the cauldron on the brewing stand.
Several sharp-eyed Werewolf wizards stood beside him, holding their breath as they watched his every move.
"Pay attention. The color changes in the Wolfsbane Potion are critical. You must add ingredients at the exact moment of each shift, and remember to adjust the temperature after every three changes."
Damocles was carefully explaining the precautions for brewing the Wolfsbane Potion. The unease he had shown under Midgard's pressure earlier was gone. His eyes were sharp, his movements clean and precise, carrying the presence of a true potion master.
As expected, when one is in their own field of expertise, an undeniable aura naturally emerges.
Midgard and Leonard didn't interrupt him. They waited until he had finished brewing the Wolfsbane Potion and was about to begin another batch before speaking.
"Mr. Belby."
"What is it?" Damocles didn't stop at Midgard's voice. "I still have many Wolfsbane Potions to brew. This isn't the time to disturb me."
The young Werewolf wizard at his side had been working nonstop the whole time—bottling potions, preparing materials, scrubbing cauldrons. His movements were practiced and efficient.
"It's about the Wolfsbane Potion," Midgard said. "We may need you to take care of something else for now."
"Something else?" Damocles looked up, frowning. "The full moon is only two weeks away. The ideal time to take the Wolfsbane Potion is a week before the full moon. What could be more important than that?"
"As for the Wolfsbane Potion, others here can handle it. But this matter… no one else but you can."
At that, Damocles finally lifted his eyes from the cauldron, narrowing them at Midgard and Leonard beside her.
"This man… he was with you during the negotiations, wasn't he? Can he brew Wolfsbane Potion?" Damocles asked.
Leonard said nothing, unwilling to risk his voice betraying his age.
"That's right. And he also brings you good news," Midgard said. "News of an improved Wolfsbane Potion."
"Improved Wolfsbane?" Damocles' voice shot up. "Impossible! How long has he even had the formula?"
"That has nothing to do with time, Mr. Belby," Midgard replied.
Damocles faltered, then said coldly, "Even if there is a way to improve it, what of it? The Wolfsbane Potion already belongs to you. It has nothing to do with me. I have neither the need nor the right to help you improve it."
"But we can hire you, can't we? If the improvement succeeds, we'll pay you another five hundred Galleons." Midgard wielded the power of money to its fullest, offering Damocles a price impossible to ignore.
Damocles froze, muttering despite himself, "Since when are Werewolves this wealthy?"
"That's not your concern." Midgard took out the aconite fruit Leonard had given her. "My people discovered a strange fruit from the aconite plant. Its medicinal properties are strong, its toxicity reduced. They tried using your formula to brew the Wolfsbane Potion with it, but failed."
"Aconite fruit?" Damocles frowned. "I've never heard of such a thing."
He accepted the cracked fruit, studied it briefly, but found nothing remarkable. Carefully, he pinched off a bit of the pulp with his fingernail and placed it in his mouth.
Almost immediately, his face turned visibly ashen, and he broke into violent coughing.
He quickly pulled out a vial of potion and swallowed it. After about ten seconds, his color finally began to return.
Leonard stared in shock. He never imagined Damocles would be so reckless as to put the aconite fruit straight into his mouth.
This was aconite, after all. Even though its toxicity had been reduced, it still contained deadly alkaloids.
Leonard couldn't help but admire Mr. Damocles's dedication to research. Compared to his own half-baked attempts, this man was on a whole different level.
"It really is aconite," Damocles said through his coughing. "The medicinal effect is strong, but the toxicity is only about a third of the original. It's worth testing."
"I'll have a new testing site set up for you immediately." Midgard called Marcus over to make arrangements, then added, "This side will be left to my people."
"Fine. Since it's your men who'll be drinking the Wolfsbane Potion, it's your call." Damocles didn't refuse. He was already eager to study the effects of this so-called Wolfsbane fruit and could hardly wait to begin.
As Damocles left in high spirits, Midgard looked at the werewolf wizards still in the potions room and asked, "Do you need assistants, or should I send them out?"
"They should be trustworthy, right?" Leonard asked.
His young-sounding voice startled the apprentices. They had assumed he was a dwarf, not a child who sounded barely older than they were.
"They can be trusted," Midgard said frankly. "And they're discreet. They won't gossip."
"Then let them stay. I can teach them to brew the Wolfsbane Potion too," Leonard said.
He had brewed Wolfsbane himself—failing at times, producing flawed batches, and finally learning all his mistakes with the Ancient Sprout's guidance.
By now, he knew every common pitfall in brewing the potion. Teaching a few apprentices would be nothing.
"Then this place is yours. Stay here for the next few days. I'll have meals sent in—don't worry, I'll let these little wolf cubs deliver them." Midgard, knowing Leonard's cautious nature, cut off any concerns he might have had.
"Alright, but I'll first check out of the Leaky Cauldron and bring my things here. When term starts, I'll just head out from your place," Leonard said.
Midgard thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No. Staying here is still too dangerous. Better forget it."
"It's fine. With enough Wolfsbane Potion, you can't keep me safe?" Leonard cut her off before she could argue, turning and walking out of the potions room.
At last, a chance to get away from that irritating savior. He wasn't about to let it slip by.