Max had read about places like this back on the news.

Military outposts near high-mana zones were attacked a few times every year. Most of those attacks never reached the nearby towns, but the possibility alone was enough to scare away plenty of potential residents.

Property prices had responded exactly the way property prices always did whenever monsters became a recurring local concern.

They plummeted.

That was precisely why Zerena had managed to buy a surprisingly large plot of land here.

For the amount she’d paid, Max doubted it would’ve covered more than two years’ rent for the tiny rooftop apartment they were currently living in back in the city.

Of course, cheap land rarely stayed cheap without a reason.

There weren’t many facilities here.

Career opportunities were even rarer.

Unless someone planned to join the military, open a business that catered to soldiers, or happened to enjoy living next door to the occasional monster attack, there simply wasn’t much reason to move in.

Most people preferred the city.

As a result, the town felt strangely empty. Not completely abandoned—cars still rolled through the streets, and uniformed soldiers regularly came and went from the restaurants, bars, and small shops—but there were just enough people around to remind Max that the place wasn’t actually a ghost town.

The military wasn’t the only thing keeping the town alive.

Businesses that catered to soldiers did surprisingly well.

That was one of the reasons Zerena had established her laboratory here in the first place.

The other was convenience.

Quite a few merchants had opened shops around the outpost, buying magical materials directly from soldiers returning from patrols in the magically reactive areas.

Most of those materials weren’t anything particularly impressive.

The truly valuable finds were ceased by the military and shipped straight to the city.

What reached these shops was usually whatever the soldiers had picked up here and there along the way—useful enough for ordinary mages, but hardly the sort of treasure that made headlines.

"Since you’ve already learned the recipes—and you still have plenty of system points left..." Zerena said, though the way she spoke made it obvious she’d already decided what they were doing next. "How about we buy the ingredients for a Minor Healing Potion?"

She continued before Max could answer.

"I looked into it beforehand. They’re the cheapest recipes on the list, so even if you fail once or twice..." She shrugged. "The loss won’t be too painful."

Max could only nod.

Zerena had already prepared practically everything.

She’d sent Annalisa here ahead of time with all the basic equipment needed for brewing potions, leaving him with remarkably few excuses to avoid getting started.

Not that he actually had a problem with making potions.

He just wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about being worked like a very talented employee who’d somehow forgotten to negotiate a salary.

’Just wait...’ Max thought.

’One day your permanent position will be down my crotch...’

His eyes briefly drifted toward Zerena before she spoke again.

"Hopefully we can get all the ingredients here," she said, glancing around the row of shops.

Then she turned back toward him.

"Can you inspect the quality of the herbs?"

Max nodded immediately.

That, at least, was something he was genuinely curious about.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Max’s mouth.

The potion recipes had included a section on inspecting the quality of herbs. It wasn’t particularly complicated—just a basic application of mana control. Anyone who had successfully formed a mana core should’ve been capable of doing it without much difficulty.

Which made Zerena’s question... interesting.

If she was asking him to inspect them, then that could only mean she couldn’t.

That realization made Max quietly reassess her abilities as a mage.

’That’s... lower than I expected.’

For a brief moment, another thought crossed his mind.

’Wait... did she never even form a mana core?’

The idea lasted all of two seconds before he remembered she’d personally guided him through creating his own.

Right.

She definitely had one.

Which meant there had to be another reason.

Max tucked the question away for later and simply nodded.

"Good..." Zerena nodded before leading him toward one of the herb shops lining the street.

A woman sat behind the counter.

Unfortunately, Max’s eyes demonstrated once again that they had their own priorities.

His attention landed squarely on her generous bosom first, the upper part of her chest left uncovered while the rest of her dress wrapped tightly around her waist, emphasizing a mature, confident figure.

Only after she spoke did his eyes finally travel upward.

"Oh? Zerena. Haven’t seen you in a while," the woman greeted with an amused smile. "I was starting to think you’d died of old age."

Max finally got a proper look at her face.

Part of it was hidden behind loose strands of black hair that had fallen across one side. The rest had been gathered into a neat bun formed from several thin braids, while the remaining length flowed down her back. Holding it all in place was an elegant golden hairpin, giving her an air that felt refined without trying too hard.

Her skin carried a warm bronze tint, though it remained fair enough that the small beauty mark resting near the corner of her lower lip stood out naturally.

Combined with her dark hair and calm, composed expression...

She carried herself with the effortless confidence of someone who clearly owned the place.

Max noticed.

About three seconds after he’d finished staring at her chest.

Her presence carried a certain weight to it.

Not intimidating exactly.

Just... composed.

The kind of calm confidence that made it feel like she could overcharge you, convince you it was a fair deal, and somehow leave you thanking her for it.

Zerena, however, appeared completely immune.

"Not before you, you old hag," she shot back without missing a beat.

Then she jerked a thumb toward the woman before turning to Max.

"Would you believe she’s actually older than I am?" Zerena said, sounding thoroughly unconvinced by reality itself. "Must be nice having enough money to keep stuffing yourself with anti-aging potions."

The shop owner didn’t look offended in the slightest.

If anything, her smile widened a little.

"It is," she admitted with shameless satisfaction.

The simple answer made Zerena’s expression sour another degree.

Clearly, that hadn’t been the response she’d been hoping for.

Deciding she’d enjoyed enough of Zerena’s irritation for one morning, the woman shifted her attention toward Max.

"So," she asked pleasantly, "what brings you here today?"

Max offered a polite smile and a small bow.

"This is the stepson of my daughter," Zerena answered before he could speak. "He had a late awakening just a few months ago."

The woman’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise before an amused smile spread across her face.

"You lucky bitch," she laughed. "Every one of your grandchildren keeps hitting the jackpot. Your heart must be dancing right now."

A small smile tugged at Zerena’s lips, though she wisely chose not to answer.

Instead, she pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it across the counter.

"He wants to take a look at a few herbs," she said. "Do you have these in stock?"

The shop owner unfolded the list.

As her eyes moved down the names, the amusement on her face slowly gave way to mild surprise.

When she finished reading, she looked back up at Max.

"What do you need all of these for, child?" she asked curiously.

Max instinctively glanced toward Zerena.

He honestly had no idea what he was supposed to say.

Fortunately, Zerena answered before the silence had a chance to become awkward.

"What’s with all the questions?" she said flatly. "They’re just ordinary herbs. He’s interested in studying them."

The shop owner looked back at Max, one eyebrow lifting slightly. Her dark lipstick curved into an amused smile.

"Studying herbs too?" she asked. "Don’t tell me he wants to become a potion maker."

Once again, Zerena answered before Max could even open his mouth.

"Of course he wants to become a potion maker," she said, sounding as though the conclusion should’ve been obvious from the beginning. "Now stop interrogating the poor boy and tell me whether you’ve got them in stock."

The woman gave a small nod before looking at Max again, her smile softening slightly.

"I’m Yennefer Emyr," she said. "Since I’m a friend of your grandmother, you can call me Aunt Yennefer."