Villain's Odyssey: Enslaving heroines, Conquering Villainesses
Chapter 71: Brewing... A problem

Chapter 71: Chapter 71: Brewing... A problem

Asher held the leather-bound book in his hands, studying the ingredients now scattered across the dining table. His silver hair caught the afternoon light streaming through the window as he double-checked each item against the illustrated pages.

"It’s all here," he muttered, snapping the book shut with a decisive nod. He grabbed the cauldron and headed toward the kitchen.

Yes, he was literally going to cook the ingredients on a regular stove. But honestly, what choice did he have? It wasn’t like he possessed some convenient fire-related ability, and attempting to use a spell would probably result in the entire dormitory becoming a crater. His ether control was about as reliable as... anything unreliable, so the kitchen stove would have to suffice.

The plan was theoretically sound, even if the execution was questionable. He’d discovered this particular concoction while exploring the game world, where creating potions was as simple as having the right ingredients in your inventory and pressing a button. Reality, unfortunately, was proving far more complicated.

"There’s also the small matter of Austin having actual fire magic in the game," he mused aloud, turning on the burner. "His flames probably had special properties or something."

Blue flames roared to life under the cauldron, and Asher stared at them. The whole setup felt disturbingly domestic, like he was preparing some sort of bizarre soup rather than a legendary stat-boosting elixir.

"Well," he sighed, pouring water into the cauldron, "at least if this kills me, it’ll be an interesting way to go."

He flipped through the book again, squinting at the incomprehensible text. This was the real problem—he couldn’t read a single word of it. The only reason he’d been able to identify the ingredients was through the detailed illustrations and the fact that their names were written in three different languages, one of which he actually recognized.

"Do I chop these up or just throw them in whole?" he wondered aloud, holding up a bundle of what looked like crystallized herbs. The instructions might as well have been written in alien script for all the good they did him.

This was exactly why he needed to get his system working. If there was any chance it could help him understand ancient magical languages, he’d take it. For now, though, he was flying blind.

Deciding to trust his instincts—or more accurately, his complete lack of other options—he grabbed the first handful of ingredients. Fiery marcon, quillin seeds, and several other exotic components that probably cost more than most people’s textbooks. He walked to the bubbling cauldron and unceremoniously dumped them in.

"Feels like I’m making poison," he grimaced, watching the water turn an alarming shade of green. "Should I stir this thing?"

He found a wooden spoon and began stirring the mixture, which now resembled something that might crawl out of a swamp and demand tribute. The smell wasn’t improving matters either—imagine wet socks mixed with burnt herbs and a hint of something that might once have been alive.

After covering the cauldron with its lid, he returned to the book, hoping to find some kind of warning or helpful note. Nothing. Just more incomprehensible symbols that seemed to mock his predicament.

"You know what? I probably should have done this in the academy lab," he realized. "Better equipment, proper ventilation, fewer chances of accidentally poisoning my roommate..."

But the game had specifically required a cauldron for this recipe, and given that the book was clearly from an earlier era, maybe traditional methods were the only way to go. Plus, explaining to a lab supervisor why he needed to brew a mysterious potion from an ancient text would raise questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

He dropped the book in frustration and returned to check on his creation. The liquid inside was now boiling enthusiastically, producing bubbles that seemed to have their own agenda. This was the moment of truth—the part where he’d either succeed spectacularly or discover new and creative ways to fail.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, extending his hand toward the cauldron.

The next step was the real gamble. Simply boiling ingredients together would just create the world’s most horribly disgusting soup. What this concoction needed was ether. He took a deep breath, steeling his resolve, and began channeling his energy into the bubbling mixture.

...

...

...

"Nothing."

He’d been certain there would be at least some change—a color shift, a flash of light, something to indicate that his energy had done anything at all. Instead, the concoction continued bubbling merrily along, completely unaffected by his efforts.

Asher had just emptied his entire ether reserve into what appeared to be very expensive vegetable soup.

"Okay then," he said to the unresponsive cauldron, feeling somewhat defeated. "I guess we’re winging it from here."

He replaced the lid and decided a shower might help clear his head. Maybe some hot water would wash away the smell of failure that seemed to cling to his clothes.

...

...

Click.

The door to the dorm opened as a girl with striking purple hair entered, immediately wrinkling her nose at the unusual aroma that had taken over the space.

"What’s that smell?" she frowned, then noticed signs of recent activity. "Oh great, he’s back."

She walked toward the dining area, taking in the scattered plant matter, seeds, and other unidentifiable substances covering what had previously been a clean table.

"What did I expect?" she muttered in irritation. "Can’t even clean up after himself."

The mess was particularly galling because she’d spent considerable effort making the common areas presentable. Now it looked like someone had conducted a botanical experiment without any regard for basic cleanliness.

She followed the strange smell toward the kitchen, where she discovered the source of both the aroma and her growing annoyance.

"A cauldron? What’s this doing here?"

...

...

A/N-Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation! Also, if you have enjoyed the story so far perhaps you can try dropping a review, the author would appreciate that, thanks!

And also, I would love powerstones!