Chapter Thirty-Three: The Potion of the Demon Tiger

All the schools in the university town of Briley had finished their final exams, and students began preparing to return home for the New Year holidays. For certain reasons, Lin Qi hadn’t been home in three years, but this year he was finally going back to see his father. Enzo, who had lost both parents, had no relatives, and lived as a solitary soul, found himself with nothing to do and decided to accompany Lin Qi for a trip to Dunkirk. Enzo had always been curious—what kind of family could have produced a leader as extraordinary as his?

Grom was taking the long-distance stagecoach south to Bonauto. The roads were treacherous in the depths of winter, and he would spend ten days on the journey there and another ten returning. Out of a little more than a month of holiday, half his time would be consumed on the road. Still, Grom insisted on going home. Each year, he had to wage a grueling battle to secure his living expenses from his father, who was even more miserly than he was.

As a fallen noble, Yulian’s family resided in Briley itself. Though his family had declined, there were still circles of the fallen nobility, and as the family’s eldest son, Yulian was required to attend many such gatherings. He also had to pay the proper visits, on behalf of his family, to those powerful nobles still shining in the upper echelons of society—duties that demanded Yulian’s personal presence.

As for Vic, like Lin Qi, he came from a humble background. He was bringing home the year-end bonus Lin Qi had distributed, a sum that would greatly relieve his family’s financial burdens. The thousand counterfeit indulgences extorted from Father Barin had all been sold off, and Lin Qi had split the profits among everyone, especially core members like Vic whose families were in need—a particularly generous share.

With the last few silver coins in their pockets, they spent a night reveling at the Lame Man’s Tavern. At dawn, Lin Qi bid his brothers farewell. Grom headed for the stagecoach station, Yulian stumbled drunkenly home, Vic also caught a coach, while Lin Qi and Enzo returned together to their dormitory—he still had a few odds and ends to pack for his journey.

The Lame Man had also told Lin Qi that a large boat would pass downstream at midday, reaching Dunkirk by noon on the third day. Lin Qi planned to take this vessel, which wouldn’t depart for several hours yet. The only advantage of traveling by this wind-driven boat was that it was cheap. Lin Qi had only a few coppers left—just enough to buy black bread for himself and Enzo during the voyage. The fare itself was waived by the boatman as a favor to the Lame Man.

Humming a tune of no particular melody, Lin Qi and Enzo staggered into their dormitory.

Thanks to Mr. Grom’s intervention, the school’s maintenance office had worked efficiently. The door, shattered just days before, was now repaired, and Lin Qi’s room had been tidied up. The two of them, laughing and swaying, entered the room—when suddenly, a burst of flame flared.

Startled, Lin Qi instinctively thought Black Horse House had come for revenge. He reached behind the door and seized a single-edged axe. Enzo’s reflexes were even faster; with a flick of his wrist, a rapier shot toward the source of the fire, slicing through the air with a shrill whistle.

A scream followed. Enzo’s rapier instantly glowed red-hot, the leather wrapped around the hilt melting away, burning a sizeable patch of skin on his palm. He dropped the sword, shaking his hand, and kicked fiercely at the ball of fire. A razor-thin arc of lightning split the air, striking Enzo’s shin. He screamed again, convulsing on the floor, unable to move.

Lin Qi, axe in hand and ready for battle, gasped. Though the curtains were tightly drawn, the fiery glow illuminated the room enough for him to see who was there. Carefully, he set the axe behind the door, closed it, and bowed respectfully. “Master Kocha, what brings you here?”

Lin Qi was deeply astonished. He had always believed Kocha was only versed in fire magic, but today he realized Kocha also commanded the rare power of lightning. Never mind his mastery of alchemy—just his lightning magic alone would earn him a prestigious post in the Empire.

A red fireball hovered above Kocha’s palm. With a flick, he sent it toward the table, lighting several white candles. The fireball, powerful enough to instantly heat a sword to red, disappeared in silence—Kocha’s control had reached a level of absolute mastery.

Cloaked from head to toe, showing only a face ruined by arcane potions, Kocha cleared his throat. He glanced at the convulsing Enzo, then crooked a finger at Lin Qi.

Cautiously, Lin Qi approached. A slender bolt of lightning shot from Kocha’s fingertip, jolting Lin Qi to his knees in a shudder. Kocha pried open his mouth and poured in a vial of pale violet potion, then slowly stood up.

The moment the potion touched his tongue, it transformed into a searing current, scorching down to his belly and radiating through his veins and bones. Within moments, Lin Qi felt his entire body surge with strength; his bones even cracked audibly.

“This is the last vial of Magic Tiger Elixir I’ve ever brewed,” Kocha said coolly, eyes narrowed. “Given your current abilities, for three days it will increase your overall strength tenfold. Bone density, muscle power, organ resilience, raw strength, speed, and reflexes—each will double or more. Combined, you’ll experience a tenfold enhancement.”

“This is your reward for three years of loyal service. When the New Year’s holiday is over and you have visited your family, return quickly. I have many tasks for you still. Do well, and you’ll earn even greater rewards.”

Enzo, still twitching on the floor, glared with jealousy. Damn it—struck by lightning just like Lin Qi, yet while he was left convulsing, Lin Qi had received an incredible gift! Enzo knew Lin Qi was already slightly stronger than he was; now, after drinking the Magic Tiger Elixir and gaining tenfold power, Enzo couldn’t hope to match him.

He forced a sycophantic smile. “Honored Master, I’m Lin Qi’s best friend, you know!”

Kocha regarded him coldly. “So what if you’re Lin Qi’s son? Have you ever served me?”

With a dismissive gesture, Kocha tossed him a vial of burn ointment—a meager compensation for his scorched palm.

Lin Qi almost laughed aloud at Kocha’s words. He quickly stood up, helped Kocha by the arm, and said with a broad grin, “Master, the road is slippery—let me escort you back to the Wizard’s Tower! Don’t worry, I’ll return as soon as possible.”

A tenfold increase in overall strength—Lin Qi’s eyes narrowed to slits with delight.