While Elden Online was one of the peakest breathtaking games he had ever been in.
Cyril wasn't here to admire the scenery. He had business to take care of.
Opening his inventory, a translucent screen popped up in front of him. His starting items were all neatly listed:
[Novice Alchemist's Satchel] – Contains basic alchemical ingredients.
[Beginner's Alchemy Set] – A crude but functional setup for crafting potions.
[Basic Robes] – Offers minimal protection.
And then, there was his currency.
[500 Gold Coins]
The system had given this to every player as a starting fund. Enough to buy essentials, but not enough to waste on luxuries.
Cyril had no plans to squander his money on random junk. He needed something practical — something that would help him survive in a fight.
Because despite how players mocked the Alchemist class, Cyril wasn't planning to be just any Alchemist.
He turned on his heel and headed toward one of the larger shops on the street.
The sign above the door read [Arcanist's Emporium], its wooden frame decorated with intricate carvings of runes and swirling patterns.
As he stepped inside, the smell of parchment and burning incense filled his nose.
The shop was filled with magical equipment — staves, wands, enchanted rings, and various tomes neatly stacked along the shelves.
Other players milled about, some admiring the merchandise, others discussing their builds.
A middle-aged NPC in a deep-blue robe stood behind the counter, watching him with a raised brow. His nameplate hovered above his head:
[Gideon, Shopkeeper]
"Ah, a fresh adventurer," Gideon mused, stroking his graying beard. "Looking for something specific, or are you here to browse?"
Cyril didn't hesitate. "I need a staff. Something that can help me condense my magical energy."
Gideon nodded approvingly. "A wise choice. Even Alchemists benefit from a proper conduit." He turned, walking toward a glass case filled with an assortment of staves. "Most beginner mages choose wands for quicker spellcasting, but staves offer stability and control. And you… you strike me as someone who values precision."
Cyril smirked. "You're not wrong."
Gideon reached into the case and pulled out a simple wooden staff. It was unadorned, aside from a faint engraving near the top. "This is the [Novice's Channeling Staff]. It enhances mana control and slightly reduces casting costs."
Cyril examined it. The system's interface immediately displayed the item's details.
—
[Novice's Channeling Staff]
🔹 Increases MP Efficiency (+5%)
🔹 Enhances Alchemy-Based Magic Control
—
It wasn't anything game-breaking, but it would help.
"How much?" Cyril asked.
"200 gold," Gideon replied without hesitation.
Cyril's lips thinned. He did mind the high price but it wasn't like he had a choice — alchemy required precise magic control, and without a proper focus, he'd be wasting MP left and right.
"Deal," he said, pulling up his interface and confirming the purchase.
The moment he did, his inventory updated.
The [Novice's Channeling Staff] appeared in his equipment tab. Cyril equipped it immediately, feeling the weight settle into his grip.
It was light but sturdy, and as he gripped it, he could feel his mana flowing through it more smoothly.
"An excellent purchase," Gideon said with a knowing smile. "May it serve you well in your endeavors."
Cyril nodded, already turning toward the exit. He had what he needed. Now, it was time to put it to use.
#####
Cyril wasn't here to waste time. The inn room was small — just a wooden cot in the corner, a wobbly desk, and a single candle casting flickering shadows along the walls.
Barely enough space to stretch his arms, but that didn't matter. He hadn't come here to sleep.
With a flick of his wrist, he opened his inventory.
A translucent interface appeared before him, listing all the items he had received upon starting. Among them was the [Beginner's Alchemy Set] — a simple wooden stand, a [Mortar and Pestle], a [Flask], and a few vials filled with alchemic ingredients.
He materialized them onto the desk.
Alchemy wasn't like swinging a sword or hurling fireballs.
It wasn't a flashy class that overwhelmed enemies with raw power.
It was a craft — a meticulous, almost scientific process of transmutation, refinement, and creation. But Cyril knew that if wielded correctly, it could surpass all other classes.
Today, he would take his first step.
His crimson eyes swept over his ingredients. The system automatically provided information on them as he hovered his fingers over each one:
[Crimson Thistle] – A dried herb with faint magical properties. Used in basic potions and energy restoratives.
[Ironroot Bark] – A rough, fibrous material that could be ground into powder. Commonly found in low-tier fortification elixirs.
[Essence Dew] – A clear liquid distilled from purified water. Used as a binding agent in alchemic mixtures.
These were the materials given to every Alchemist upon starting the game.
Nothing extraordinary. But Cyril wasn't deterred. Even a handful of weak ingredients could create something valuable if refined properly.
He decided on something simple — [Strength Pills].
A low-tier consumable that temporarily boosted a player's physical power. Nothing game-breaking, but useful for melee fighters, and more importantly, something he could sell to earn his first real gold.
Cyril grabbed the [Crimson Thistle] first and placed a few dried leaves into the mortar. The moment he touched them, a system prompt appeared.
[Would you like to begin Alchemy?]
[Yes] / [No]
He selected [Yes], and the process began.
His fingers tightened around the pestle as he started grinding. The Crimson Thistle was brittle, breaking apart easily into a fine red powder.
He kept a steady rhythm, ensuring an even consistency — Alchemy wasn't just about dumping ingredients together; precision mattered.
If he ground it too coarsely, the mixture would be unstable. If he ground it too finely, it would lose potency.
Once satisfied, he set the powder aside and moved to the Ironroot Bark. This one required more effort. Unlike the delicate Crimson Thistle, the bark was tough and resistant.
The pestle barely dented it at first. Cyril had to exert more force, grinding in circular motions until the fibers began to break down.
A few minutes later, he had a pile of rough, dark brown powder. He wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead and exhaled.