Learning from his mistake, Irwin spent the entire day making thirteen more mistakes.
Apparently, the impossibly difficult-to-brew potion was, to a neophyte like him, impossibly difficult to brew. Even with the help of the Potioneering skill, Irwin had more than used his share of Stamina potion for the fatigue, Health potion for the finger and skill loss, and Mana potion for the reagent neutralizing spell.
If not for Andy banging on the door like there was a zombie apocalypse behind him–an apocalypse Irwin would prefer over what he would get–then he would have spent the night using up all of his reagents in a vain and, more importantly, futile attempt to successfully brew the potion.
Still, he left the Junkyard with a smile on his face, a smile that widened once he saw what awaited him on his bed.
The morning of the next day was a slurry of happenings with fresh batches of grocery coming in and a new batch of ne'er-do-wells from all across the state seeking friendship with Archibald. Since Irwin's bet on the World Cup and Archibald's timely trades in the stock market became public, many had sought fortune in favor and friendship in the Greythorne's hand.
Who wouldn't when the family was nearing almost a billion in assets and resources, a benchmark that Irwin could cross in almost a second and that he wouldn't, because why would he?
Archibald had once likened them to seekers during the gold rush and, like many of them, some of these seekers died on their way to the coast. Yes, an uptick of crime was reportedly due to the sudden increase of quasi-wealthy vacationers within the nearby cities.
Most of them were here to indulge themselves on the newfound swell of business funded by Archibald and a few other nominal families in southern California, but a handful were there to con their way into fortune–no matter what it takes.
It had nothing to do with Irwin, of course, and, even if he cared enough, most of their good fortune would only last until 2008. Hopefully by then, the crash would be the most egregious event to come out of the decade.
Hopefully.
In any case, Irwin went back to the Junkyard and left the party preparation to theo others with Scott and Garth as his eyes and ears. He needed only to engorge himself in food, but it would behoove him to at least get a look at how it's going to be done before he embarrassed himself in front of his future allies and employees.
The potion brewing that day was not without success. For instance, instead of creating Piranha's Toothpaste–his gluttonous version of Elephant Toothpaste–every time, he could now mix the tear and the fulgurite twice every five times. The successful mixture differed vastly from the failed one, in that it had created a mercury-like liquid. Shiny and gleaming with a golden glow, the liquid reacted to the air with a slight sizzle.
That was a mistake, however, as once five seconds passed, the liquid boiled like the lake the magma slug had come from. It spat out globules of golden liquid that tore through the un-enchanted parts of the chamber, akin to a highly corrosive acid.
If not for the neutralizing spell, his whole fulgurite stone would have been dissolved into nothing and he would need another whole day just to replace it.
Still, that did not dissuade him from continuing the brewing, only to be more conscious of his reagent's positioning.
When he figured that successfully brewing the potion was not going to happen today, Irwin left the room and took to the other side of the Junkyard.
It was half past noon in the Valley and the sun was covered with darkening clouds, which meant that he had a few more hours before rain fell.
He didn't get to pick his sixth level spell. His system had only informed him that Shaman's Blessing had been added to his spell list. While that had surprised him, he was never going to complain about receiving new spells–especially one that was as powerful as it was useful.
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▪︎Shaman's Blessing▪︎
Level: 01
Type: Automatic
Classification: Ritual; Utilitarian; Purgatory
Invocation: In corpore, per mentem, et per spiritum. Ira in sanguinem innocentium
Duration #1 - Warding: 5 hours | Five (5) hours per level
Duration #2 - Burning: 1 minute | One (1) minute per level;
Components: Blood of an infant; Bones of a divine man; Matter from a scholar's brain; Zooplankton; Powdered silver; Guts of a great crested newt
Ritual:
(1) Drop the blood, bone, and matter inside of a stone mortar, mixing along the grain counterclockwise.
(2) Emulsify the mixture by dripping boiling water in fifteen second intervals for three minutes before transferring the mixture into a clean steel bowl.
(3) Place the filled steel bowl in the center of the ritual circle (See Diagram A) with four blessed candles in each cardinal direction. Begin the chant.
(4) At the thirty-second mark, the mixture will boil, bubble, and change its texture and fluidity. Continue the chant.
(5) At the fifty-second mark, drop in the gut and pour in the powdered silver with a strainer. Mix until the mixture resembles porridge, with no less than a dozen clumps in the bowl.
(6) Add in 500 milligrams of macroscopic zooplankton before adding a drop of the Caster's blood. Halt the chant.
(7) Wait for two minutes before applying on the Caster's and allies' face into a sigil (See Diagram B). Mixture is good for seven individuals.
Effect #1:
Sigil (Caster) - The sigil will last for 5 hours
Sigil (Ally) - The sigil will last for 5 hours
Effect #2:
Burning (Caster) - The caster needs only to utter the words "Bellum" to burn the sigil. Once burning, the ally will gain an increase of 40% in Physical, Magical, and Mental capabilities, as well as remove all senses of pain until the burning ends.
Burning (Ally) - The ally needs only to utter the words "Bellum" to burn the sigil. Once burning, the ally will gain an increase of 20% in Physical, Magical, and Mental capabilities, as well as remove all senses of pain until the burning ends.
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The spell descriptions, as it turned out, had other modes of viewing: Original and Translated.
He thanked the creator of his system for having the translation mode, otherwise, he would have to spend quite a time just so he could decipher the esoteric and, often, cryptic wordings that spell components usually have.
Unlike the potion, the ritual was completed in no time. The Shaman's Blessing, a gleaming compound that looked like soft butter and smelt like a morgue, pulsated with an unfamiliar energy.
He was hesitant to even spread it across his skin, which was why Irwin was glad that Ansem came to visit. The psychopathic Special Child was delivering Irwin's snack when the latter pulled him into the area and ordered him to spread the goop into his face.
Ansem obliged, albeit whiningly, and let the mixture dry in his face before shouting the phrase that burned the mixture. His face lit up with a green shadow, wrapping his figure in an ungainly light and showing off hidden contours in his body.
Irwin pinched the Special Child's arms and felt muscles in what was once baby fat before he felt a strange pull in his mind, more specifically the connection between him and Ansem. It was as if Ansem's mind was straining at the contact Irwin had enforced upon the former, a strain that the latter extinguished with but a single taut thought.
"Whoa!" Ansem exclaimed, testing out the sudden lightness in his body. Although the psychopath had never willingly thrown a punch in his life, his newfound power coursing through his body abruptly changed that mindset.
Fast as a cocaine-addled cocker spaniel, Ansem threw punch after punch and then kick after kicks. He tired out after a minute, which was when the spell was lifted from his body.
Irwin put out a quizzical eye as he reflected on the changes in Ansem's body," Any side effects from the Shaman's Blessin–"
As if to answer his question, Ansem threw up a green vomit with hints of blood on to the ground. Thanks to his reflexes, not a fleck of bile splattered on to Irwin's shoes.
"Alright. Seems like we need to test this further," He said to himself as he felt the shame of failure already being washed. "Luckily, I have a very good guinea pig."