Chapter 307: Noan and Khorvath - Mystery man (2)

That’s right, his skin turned purple, and the veins beneath his flesh slowly bulged out like tree roots.

"Agh!!!" The man screamed, as if enduring unimaginable pain.

He collapsed to his knees, and then—

"Huew!!!"

He vomited up a mouthful of black blood, panting heavily. At the same time, his skin began to regain its original color.

However, his hair seemed to fall out even more, and the remaining strands had turned completely silver.

Fine wrinkles also appeared on his body—very faint, but Noan could still make them out.

It was as if he had instantly aged several years.

"That’s..." Khorvath murmured in disbelief, steadying herself against the trunk of a tree. Suddenly, she slipped and fell onto the grass.

"Who’s there?!" Khorvath’s voice wasn’t loud, but in the quiet of this place, it sounded piercing.

Embarrassed, Khorvath looked over at Noan.

Noan shook his head, signaling her not to worry. He stood up and stepped out from the bushes.

"Who are you?" the middle-aged man shouted.

Though his expression was fierce, Noan could sense the tremor and anxiety in his voice.

Now Noan could see the man clearly.

He wasn’t tall, only around 170 centimeters, his frame so thin it looked as if only skin covered his bones.

He wore no shirt, just a pair of old, tattered pants, likely worn for years.

Time had etched its marks deep on his face, with wrinkles and dark circles beneath his eyes, and his hair had turned almost entirely white.

Just looking at his hair, Noan almost thought he was over seventy.

However, judging by his features, he was likely around fifty.

Noan frowned, his gaze shifting to the space around the middle-aged man.

Yet the air there hardly rippled, only faint greenish waves moved now and then.

That showed the man possessed the ability to use magic—but only at the most basic, beginner level.

The man, growing impatient, shouted, "Who are you? If you don’t answer, I’ll... I’ll..."

"Don’t be afraid, I’m the one who opened the gate to this realm," Noan said calmly.

The man was startled to hear that, then asked, "How can I trust you?"

Noan shrugged. "Believe me or not, that’s up to you. I have no obligation to explain anything."

Hearing Noan’s words, the man found himself trusting him even more.

Such was the truth. Sometimes, the more you explain, the more suspicious people become.

But when you refuse to explain, they end up believing you.

"You... you..."

"Ah!" Noan suddenly interrupted his stammering, "I also brought someone else along."

He waved his hand, signaling for Khorvath to come out from the bushes.

When he saw Khorvath, the man was a bit startled by her mask.

But then, his eyes suddenly widened and he stammered, "That cloak... you... you’re..."

Khorvath asked curiously, "You know me?"

The man trembled slightly, then sighed and shook his head. "No, I’ve only heard of you."

Khorvath asked, "What have you heard?"

The man glanced at Khorvath, then shook his head. "I... I... I’m sorry, I can’t say."

Khorvath wanted to say something, but Noan stopped her. He frowned and asked, "What is your name?"

The man didn’t answer, just continued with what he wanted to do.

He walked to the entrance of the cave and picked up a crude wooden bucket he’d made himself.

He walked toward a pond in the distance, scooped up some water, and splashed it inside the cave.

Noan looked at Khorvath, and Khorvath looked back at him. Neither of them understood what was going on, nor why this man’s personality was so strange.

"Master... what should we do?" Khorvath asked.

"Keep watching," Noan sighed. "I haven’t received any quests, this place is strange, and there aren’t any clues at all."

"That man is our only lead. We can’t act recklessly."

Khorvath nodded, her eyes now glinting with interest as she glanced around.

"Master, may I examine the herbs nearby?"

Hearing her, Noan nodded. "Don’t go far."

"Yes! Thank you, Master." With that, Khorvath took a notebook from her bag and began to explore her surroundings.

Noan glanced at Khorvath, then turned back to the man who was trying to put out a fire inside the cave.

He approached and asked in a soft voice, "Do you need a hand?"

The man, exhausted, collapsed onto the ground. Staring at the fire inside the cave, which was growing ever stronger, he could only nod.

"Please, help me," he said, his voice trembling.

Hearing that shaky tone, Noan waved his hand, and the fire inside was instantly drawn out, condensed into a ball of flame.

The man was startled by this sight and immediately asked, "Are you a Pill Refiner?"

"Pill Refiner?" Noan echoed in confusion.

"That’s right, Pill Refiners are those who specialize in concocting medicinal pills. They possess incredible mastery over fire, even being able to control the exact temperature of their flames," the man explained.

At that moment, the man’s face was filled with excitement, as if he were discussing a subject that fascinated him deeply.

Understanding where the man’s thoughts were going, Noan quickly asked, "How is a Pill Refiner different from an Alchemist?"

"Ah! Well... There’s not too much difference between the two. It’s just that... Alchemists focus on liquid medicines, while Pill Refiners specialize in pills," the man replied.

"Both sides have valid reasons for their methods, which is why there’s a lot of conflict between these two professions. Every five years, they hold a competition."

"Of course, everyone looks forward to that contest, because no matter who wins, the spectators always gain a lot of valuable experience."

"Oh? And what about you?" Noan asked, frowning. "Are you a Pill Refiner or an Alchemist?"

"Hahahaha... I practice both!" the man said proudly.

"Wow!" Noan feigned surprise, smiling as he asked, "That must be difficult, right?"

"Not at all. In truth, these two professions aren’t all that different." The man waved his hand dismissively. "For each type of medicine, sometimes pills are better, sometimes liquid form is superior."

"That’s why I only study the best aspects of both professions, then combine them to create my own unique path."

"I call it—Herbalist."

Hearing this, Noan nodded slightly, then frowned and asked, "Wait a minute! Did you really invent this profession yourself?"

The man hesitated at that, his words stumbling: "Well... I... hahaha... I only... built upon the research of those who came before me."

"I... I haven’t actually perfected this profession yet."

Noan: "..."

He sighed and said, "Ah! So here I was thinking I’d met someone who could create a new path entirely, but in the end, you’re just—"

"No! No, you’re wrong!" The man hurriedly objected. "Even if I wasn’t the one who created it, I am the one perfecting it."

"Oh? But isn’t that just stealing someone else’s work?"

"You..." The man gritted his teeth in irritation. "Huh! That’s only because you don’t know how I prepare my medicines. If you saw it for yourself, you’d realize my talent!"

"Oh? Then I’ll have someone verify it for me." Noan waved his hand and called out, "Khorvath, come here."

"Yes, Master." Khorvath, who had been taking notes on the medicinal herbs she had found, immediately hurried over when she heard Noan’s call.

Noan pointed at Khorvath and said, "She is a talented Alchemist. She’ll be the judge of your claims."

Khorvath: "??!!!"