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"Grandma... you've gone too far once again."
Seeing the disproportionate amount of food covering the table, the young man shook his head in exasperation at the elderly woman approaching the table with a giant cauldron full of soup.
"Excessive...?!" The old woman huffed with a somewhat sullen expression and then scolded him, shaking the wooden ladle in her hand: "You're the exaggerated one. Actually, you are a bit too crazy. You have to stop shouting into the wind like an idiot... You're lucky because we live on this mountain, isolated from everyone. Otherwise..."
The old woman hit Atlas's forehead with the ladle at an alarming speed, but it did not end there because she continued to scold him: "Imagine if someone heard you... You want the word' Atlas, the Fool' or 'Atlas, the Savage' to spread. Boy...that would be a disaster. You wouldn't be able to get a decent girl even if we sold that damned rooster."
Incredibly, the creature's indignant response immediately overcame just as the elderly woman uttered those words.
Hearing the haughty rooster's disapproving reply, Atlas sneered slightly.
Still, the consequences were tremendous because that act aroused the wrath of the old woman, who struck him twice more in the forehead.
"You are two idiots!!! Don't get up until you have finished eating everything. You'll need a lot of energy for your next trip..."
After the rant, the old woman walked toward the back door with a strange grin pasted on her face: "Stupid bird. Let's see if you have the courage to cackle so much next time..."
Of course, the young man did not know what his grandmother's intentions were, and he was intrigued, but just as the idea of following her leaped into his mind, verses filled with despair pinned him to the chair.
Atlas was well aware of what his grandmother could do, so he waited patiently.
Indeed, after a few seconds, Grandmother re-entered the house, holding three long golden feathers, the tips of which were enveloped in a dim bluish aura.
Atlas stared at the old woman as if she were looking at a monster.
In particular, he stared at that eerie smile on her face, much like that of a demon, and asked in a slightly tremulous tone: "Grandma... How... how is Flare?"
"Hmph... he'll be fine with all those hens around him... In a couple of hours, you will see him crow and puff out his chest like before..." she replied with a malevolent grin.
Terrified by the creepy creature in the guise of a docile old lady, Atlas did not dare to linger any longer and began to take large mouthfuls of the food on the table.
A bit of silence descended in the kitchen. The only noises that disturbed that quiet came from the cooking area, where Grandma had dipped feathers and a few other ingredients inside a giant pot.
The young man knew that the old woman was preparing some of her famous potions, so after devouring everything on the table, he left the room on tiptoe.
A few things remained to be done around the house before departure. So he ended them and then put on his shoulders the heavy backpack that had accompanied him on every trip he had taken in recent years and clutched the space bag tightly to his waist.
The bag was filled with everything he needed to survive in the outside world for a few days. And he couldn't put him inside his space bag because the room inside was limited.
"Well... Well... I've packed you some extra potions for the trip. Mmm... I'm sure they will benefit you, but be careful not to squander them all like you did with the last ones."
Grandma sealed the last vial with a small cork and closed the small wooden package containing all the other vials.
'The Regenerating Potion, a Primordial Potion... one of my grandmother's many magical potions. They are incredibly efficient and far better than those swill sold in town. They can invigorate the body and heal the serious wounds of a martial cultivator at the initial stages. They also allow the Chaotical Core in the warrior's body to absorb Chaos Energy from the surrounding world more quickly and replenish a good deal of it instantly...'
In this world filled with Chaos Energy, the Alchemy Realm was quite vast.
The more common tonic was called Mortal Potion, followed by the Martial Potion, which was a more efficient and powerful one.
As for his grandma's potions, they were a priceless treasure of the third rank, the so-called Primordial Potion.
The container with the ten vials ended up inside the space bag and another small box like that.
In fact, the truth was not what the old woman believed because the young man still possessed some potions from his old travels.
Unlike what his grandmother thought, Atlas was no fool, and in anticipation of this arduous journey, he had kept as many as four potions, enduring the pain of the mildest wounds.
With the ten he had just taken, Atlas now had as many as fourteen Regenerating Potions, significantly increasing his chances of returning home alive.
"Thank you, grandma... I feel much safer with your support." Atlas hugged the elderly woman warmly for a few seconds, showing his deep affection for her, and then walked toward the door with firm steps without any second thoughts.
It was always hard to leave the warmth and security of a safe place, but he did not look back.
Before leaving, he picked up his faithful companion, who was standing a few steps from the door.
In the eyes of the world, that simple object might have seemed trivial, but after two long years together, it had become an essential part of his life.
His faithful companion was a humble iron pickaxe that was a bit awkward to carry and had a reasonably heavy weight, but all this was negligible.
In fact, rather than storing it in the space bag, he always carried it hanging from the leather belt that held up his pants or on a hook placed on the right side of the backpack to counterbalance the weight of the provisions depending on the bag.
Noticing the figure of the young man moving away from her, the woman muttered bitterly: 'What a cruel fate. Such a lively and gifted boy, reduced to this condition by the gruesome twist of fate.'
The woman was deeply disappointed and angered by the unfortunate fate of the young man, for she knew his desire very well. But, alas, unlike him, she was aware that there were no miracles in the World of Oblivion so extraordinary that they could change the fate of an ordinary mortal.
Over the years, the elderly woman tried many times to warn the young man, but in the end, she could never extinguish the hopeful fire that burned unceasingly within his heart... she could never quench his burning desire for adventure.