Chapter Fifty-One: peddling potions, with the makings of a shrewd profiteer!

“Brother, do you have any spare potions?”

During a lull in the fighting, a young man in his thirties came over to where they were resting on the battlements.

“I’ve still got a little.”

Mu Rongxun looked up at him and found him somewhat familiar.

“Th-then could you sell me some?”

The young man’s face lit up.

The situation was far too grueling. Without supplies, he did not know how much longer he could hold on.

He was not as if he had never considered running.

But there were military enforcers and supervising officers here; anyone who tried to flee would meet a severed head.

Someone had tested that taboo and had already become an example to the rest.

The military enforcers were all people whose attributes had reached five across the board. Against them, ordinary men had no chance.

Mu Rongxun took out several vials.

“Only these kinds. Which one do you want?”

He did not ask how many, after all. Having taken quite a few potions from the old man Modo, he was hardly short of them.

This young man seemed decent enough, and he had no intention of cheating him, so the potions he took out were all normal ones.

It was not as if he could not make ordinary potions. Without the bonus from dark affinity, though, their quality would be very low.

“This, this, and this. Three of each. How much?”

The young man pointed to one that restored mana, one that healed injuries, and another that restored stamina.

“Two hundred a vial.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

After paying without hesitation, the young man took the potions and left.

The price was a little steep, but not outrageously so, and more importantly, being able to buy them at all was already fortunate.

For something that could save your life, even if it cost five hundred, wouldn’t you still have to grit your teeth and buy it?

After the young man left, several of the nearby resting soldiers grew restless as well.

“Hey, buddy, got any extra potions to sell?”

A thin young man came over, asking while his eyes darted everywhere with obvious unease.

“No extras.”

Mu Rongxun glanced at him sidelong and continued to eat his dry rations in silence.

“Come on, man, let me have some. I’ll pay top price!”

The thin man clenched his teeth.

“Three hundred a vial.”

Mu Rongxun set out three vials.

The young man’s expression changed, but he still chose to pay and took the potions away.

This was another man’s market; he had no standing to bargain.

And after those two set the example, the others nearby finally gathered around as well.

“Handsome, do you still have any potions? Sell me a little, please?”

The only female player tossed him a wink and spoke in a sweet, coquettish voice.

Seeing how she seemed ready to cling to him, Mu Rongxun shifted aside without a word.

The heavy perfume on her body made him extremely uncomfortable.

Still, business had come to him; he had no reason not to take it.

Before him lay several small sealed boxes, all containing the dark ramen he had made.

“Only these. One serving, one thousand.”

“What?”

The woman’s expression changed.

“Handsome, be a little cheaper?”

As she spoke, she pressed against him, rubbing herself against him.

“Make it cheaper, and I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. Anything goes!”

Despite the woman’s seductive voice, Mu Rongxun remained unmoved.

He merely looked at the other two men.

The two exchanged a glance, gritted their teeth, and still chose to buy them.

There were side effects, yes, but the effect of temporarily raising one attribute was far too useful. It could greatly improve their chances of surviving.

Seeing the ramen on the ground dwindling rapidly, the woman could no longer bother with her charms and hurriedly bought two boxes as well.

Mu Rongxun himself was stunned by how much money came in all at once.

Was money really this easy to make?

Though it was only because he was on a battlefield, such rapid accumulation of wealth was still astonishing.

From a pauper with barely any coin, he suddenly had more than ten thousand on him.

And that was not the end.

He still had materials on hand, and some potions left as well, while this great battle had yet to reveal how long it would last.

With no one disturbing him, Mu Rongxun quickly finished his dry rations and used the rest of the break to close his eyes for a moment and recover some energy.

Potions could restore stamina, but they could not heal mental exhaustion.

Yet not long after he closed his eyes, he opened them again.

What met his gaze was a pair of long legs in boots. His eyes moved upward to a gleaming silver skirt armor, the lower edge of a suit of plate.

He lifted his head a little and saw a face he knew well, though she was not wearing her helmet at the moment.

“What are you doing here?”

Noya was surprised.

If she remembered correctly, hadn’t this boy gone with the Night Hunters to sweep the vampire ranks?

She had thought he had either completed the mission or already perished.

“Thanks to you, I’ve been drafted again.”

Mu Rongxun felt helpless; he always had the sense that nothing good came from running into this woman.

Noya’s expression did not change. Such sarcasm and cold mockery were things she had endured countless times in the Night Watchers over the years.

“Are you a potion maker?”

Her voice was smooth and resonant.

“I’m only an apprentice. My teacher was drafted too.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Noya did not care about such details.

“Can you make healing potions?”

“Yes, but my level is very low.”

Mu Rongxun looked at her in confusion. He was only an apprentice; surely they would not need him for this. The army had plenty of mages and alchemists.

“Being able to make them is enough. Come with me.”

Without hesitation, Noya turned at once.

“Huh?”

Mu Rongxun did not understand what she meant.

“Come make potions with me. You’re not needed here anymore.”

Noya’s tone sharpened.

“The potions you make will count toward your military merit.”

At that, Mu Rongxun no longer hesitated. After a day of backbreaking labor on the wall, he would not earn much merit anyway, and it was exhausting and dangerous to boot. If he could earn merit the easy way, that was obviously better.

After standing up, he ignored the looks from those around him and simply followed behind her.

Noya was very tall. Mu Rongxun was already not short at one meter seventy-eight at seventeen, but Noya was about the same height as him. Even without the boots, she was probably around one meter seventy-six, exceptionally tall and slender.

If they walked together in modern times, people might even call them a perfect match. Here, however, the only eyes upon them were filled with envy.

Being chosen not to defend the wall was the most enviable thing of all.

As they passed one resting battlement after another, Noya would go in and ask.

They went on like that, stopping and starting, until several more people had joined their group.

Only after they had nearly traversed the battlements along a short stretch of wall did Noya lead them down from the ramparts.

Without her guiding them, the moment Mu Rongxun and the others stepped down, there would only be one outcome.

Noya said little else. She merely brought them to a residential district not far beneath the wall. The surrounding houses had already been requisitioned; potions were meant to treat the wounded, so naturally they could not be made too far away.

It was also more convenient here for receiving injured soldiers at any time.