Teacher by day, Farmer by passion - Chapter 97

Chapter 97: Higher than high grade?
The Hua family held a funeral for their fallen elder, and by the time the solemn rites concluded, the sky had already darkened into evening.

Ace, having remained a silent observer throughout, made his way back to his room.

He shut the door behind him, scanning his surroundings to ensure no one was nearby. Only when he was certain did he step into the system space.

Inside, his “workers” were already in motion.

Akha, the Level Two Alchemist, was stationed at her usual spot, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp with focus.

Khani and Kathum, the Level One Alchemists, busied themselves with ingredients, while Mati, the only one without an affinity for alchemy, tended to the herb garden.

They were Variant Humans, though Ace had long since stopped calling them “the baldsies”—it just sounded bad.

Instead, he had given them names, a small courtesy that made their strange arrangement feel a little more personal.

During his time here, he had also learned a few things.

For one, the origins of Variant Humans were wild. Apparently, the first humans who walked the land hated each other so much that they sought out other species to procreate with, resulting in these unique offshoots.

Ace wasn’t buying it.

That sounded too ridiculous to be true.

But what he did know for certain was this: Bald Humans, like Akha and the others, were completely hairless—no eyebrows, no lashes, not even a single strand anywhere on their bodies. Ofcourse he didn’t know if what they say was true or not, he didn’t check.

They didn’t have noses either, just smooth, featureless faces that still somehow managed to convey expressions.

Then there were the Crystal Humans. If anything, calling them “Variant Humans” was generous—these beings were essentially humanoid crystals walking around, more artifact than flesh.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Ace focused on the task at hand.

“Akha, how’s the refining coming along?”

The bald alchemist clicked her tongue in frustration. “This cauldron cracked again.”

Ace followed her gaze and winced.

The cauldron in front of her was in its last moments, trembling as if barely holding itself together.

It looked like it might burst at any moment.

“I’ve already broken so many,” Akha continued, clearly annoyed. “Your cauldrons can’t handle my tribe’s techniques.”

Ace let out a long sigh. She had a point—this wasn’t the first cauldron she’d ruined.

But at the same time, her efficiency was undeniable. One Akha could produce as many pills in a day as ten regular human alchemists.

That kind of output was worth the occasional equipment failure.

Still, there was one problem.

Last time he’d spoken with Hua Hua, the man had even warned him—that was the last cauldron they have left.

Be careful this time, he had even said.

And here they were again.

Ace pressed his fingers against his temple.

— Why not let her use the cauldron you own?

The voice echoed in his mind.

Ace hesitated.

“What if she breaks it?”

— Like I’ve told you a thousand times, she won’t. Her technique is advanced, sure, but it’s nowhere near strong enough to damage that cauldron.

“I don’t want to take any chances.”

— You’re just being greedy.

Ace exhaled, glancing at the cauldron in his inventory.

Cauldron of the Thief.

It was one of his most prized possessions, and he wasn’t too eager to risk it.

— Trust me on this, the voice continued. If she breaks it, I’ll spill every alchemy secret I’ve ever learned and delete myself from the spirit world.

Ace raised an eyebrow. “That serious, huh?”

No response.

After a long pause, he finally made his decision.

Without another word, he materialized the cauldron and placed it before Akha.

“Use this,” he said.

Akha froze.

For an entire minute, she just stared at the cauldron in front of her, her fingers twitching slightly.

Even Khani and Kathum, who had been busy sorting herbs, stopped what they were doing. They held their breaths, their expressions unreadable.

The weight of the moment settled heavily in the air.

Ace folded his arms and watched.

“Well?” he said, breaking the silence.

Akha took a deep breath, slowly reaching out to touch the cauldron. Her fingertips traced its surface with an almost reverent curiosity.

“…This…” she finally murmured.

Ace waited.

Akha’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Now this is a cauldron.”

Meanwhile Khani and Kathum exchanged nervous glances before swallowing hard.

Then, almost in unison, they spoke up, their voices laced with barely contained anticipation.

“Master Ace… can we also use this cauldron to practice refinement?”

Silence fell over the space.

Ace narrowed his eyes, observing their reactions. The way they stood—stiff yet eager—the barely restrained excitement in their gazes… Why were they acting like this?

Ace’s stomach twisted with an unfamiliar sensation—anticipation? Unease?

The way they looked at the cauldron, like devout pilgrims before a sacred relic, made him second-guess his own understanding of its worth.

He had known it was valuable, but the way these three were looking at it… as if it were a divine artifact that had descended straight from the heavens…

Finally, he sighed and shrugged. “Sure. But only if you meet the daily quota, got it?”

“Yes! Yes!”

All three bald alchemists practically vibrated with excitement, their smooth, expressionless faces somehow radiating pure joy.

Khani clenched his fists. “We won’t disappoint!”

Kathum nodded rapidly. “This is going to be amazing!”

Even Akha, normally composed, ran her hands over the cauldron like a craftsman admiring the finest tool they had ever laid eyes on.

Ace, watching them, could only raise an eyebrow.

The moment Akha got her hands on the cauldron, she wasted no time—diving straight into refinement as if possessed.

Ace watched in silence, his arms crossed, but his brows gradually furrowed.

She was faster.

Not just a little faster—her movements were sharper, her technique more profound.

He had seen her work many times before, but right now, she was operating on an entirely different level.

Was it the cauldron?

Time slipped away as Akha seamlessly added one ingredient after another.

The flames beneath the cauldron danced in sync with her precise control.

Each herb, each essence merged perfectly, weaving together in an alchemical symphony.

A soft, sweet fragrance filled the air—serene yet intoxicating, as if whispering promises of untold power.

Ace found himself unconsciously holding his breath.

Then—

With a deep exhale, Akha lifted the lid of the cauldron. A soft glow emerged, illuminating her awestruck face.

Slowly, she reached in and retrieved six pristine, snow-white pills… each one shimmering with an almost ethereal purity.

She stared at them, her hands trembling.

“H-How…?” Her voice wavered. “It—it really is a Level 3 pill… and… i-it’s even peak-grade!”

“It really is a Grade 3 Soul Nourishment Pill!” Akha’s voice rang out, brimming with excitement.

She clutched the six pristine pills in her hands, her fingers trembling. Her breath hitched, disbelief and joy warring in her expression.

The atmosphere crackled with energy.

Khani and Kathum stood frozen for a moment before their emotions erupted—one moment cheering, the next exchanging looks that flickered between celebration and envy.

Ace blinked.

Wait. What?

Ace’s thoughts ground to a halt. The room, the world, everything else faded into a distant blur.

All that remained was the six shimmering pills resting in Akha’s trembling hands, gleaming with an impossible radiance. His mouth went dry.

There were only three known grades—low, medium, and high. But this…

“Peak-grade…?” He muttered under his breath, his own voice barely more than a whisper.

— Did I forgot to mention that? Oh dear.