Grandmother.

That was... new.

As far as he could remember, Zerena had introduced him as everything except family.

Servant’s son.

The troublesome boy.

An idiot.

Occasionally something even less flattering, depending on her mood.

This might’ve been the first time she’d introduced him in a way that sounded... almost normal.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to process that.

"Why are you the aunt while I’m the grandma, you wrinkled potato?" Zerena shot back through slightly gritted teeth.

Yennefer merely smiled.

Yennefer let out a quiet chuckle before ringing the small bell resting on the counter.

"You’ve got more wrinkles than I do," she replied without missing a beat.

A moment later, a boy around Max’s age stepped out from the back of the shop, looking mildly annoyed at being summoned.

"Take these and bring everything on the list," Yennefer said, handing him the paper.

The boy walked over without complaint. Before leaving again, he gave Zerena a small, respectful bow, then glanced over the list as he disappeared toward the storage room.

"Still making him work here?" Zerena asked.

Yennefer answered with a helpless sigh.

"What choice do I have? The second I let him wander around town, he somehow manages to cook up a new problem."

Despite the complaint, there was a trace of pride in her voice.

"Though lately he’s been surprisingly diligent with his rune studies. He can engrave almost a dozen runes perfectly now."

The way she said it made it obvious she was trying very hard not to sound like a proud grandmother.

She wasn’t entirely succeeding.

Hearing that, Zerena couldn’t help looking a little smug.

If Yennefer found out how many runes Max could already engrave, the old woman might actually keel over from shock.

Or worse.

She might realize exactly what kind of treasure Zerena had stumbled across.

That was precisely why she’d already warned Max not to reveal the full extent of his abilities to anyone.

Thankfully, he hadn’t objected.

Not that he was paying the slightest bit of attention to their conversation anymore.

His brain had quietly wandered off several sentences ago.

More specifically...

It had become thoroughly occupied with an entirely different mystery.

’...Which one of them is actually bigger?’

Max’s eyes drifted back and forth between the two women with the concentration of a scholar attempting to settle a matter of great historical importance.

Unfortunately, the loose clothing both of them wore made accurate comparisons remarkably difficult.

Max’s attention was firmly fixed on something other than a woman’s assets for once.

The herbs.

More specifically, the quality of the ingredients needed for a Minor Healing Potion.

There were five ingredients in total.

The first—and the foundation of the entire potion—was Mana Water.

An exceptionally pure form of water found deep within mana stone mines, where it naturally absorbed ambient mana over countless years. Because of that, it carried a faint magical energy even before any brewing began.

It wasn’t particularly rare.

Just expensive.

Many wealthy nobles and merchants preferred drinking Mana Water over costly alcohol. Supposedly, if someone drank enough of it, the mana produced a faint, pleasant buzz—not enough to get properly drunk, but just enough for rich people to convince themselves they were enjoying something refined instead of glorified expensive water.

The main ingredient was a common medicinal plant known as the Redleaf Herb.

On its own, it naturally encouraged the body’s skin regeneration. Even a simple paste made from its crushed leaves could close scratches and small cuts overnight if applied properly. It wasn’t powerful enough to treat serious injuries, but for minor wounds, it was one of the most widely used healing herbs in the kingdom.

Next came Azureleaf.

A broad-leafed herb cultivated almost exclusively in Mana Water. It was remarkably easy to grow, but what made it valuable wasn’t its appearance—it was the unusually high concentration of mana stored within its leaves. In potion brewing, Azureleaf served as the primary mana source, amplifying the healing properties of Redleaf rather than healing injuries directly.

The fourth ingredient was the Sunpetal Flower.

While its restorative properties were relatively mild on their own, it helped reduce pain, prevented minor infections from setting in, and restored a small amount of stamina during recovery. Individually, none of those effects were particularly impressive, but together they made the healing process noticeably smoother and safer.

The final ingredient was Silverroot Powder.

Unlike the other herbs, it contributed almost nothing to the potion’s healing effects. Its purpose was far simpler—and far more important. Added only at the very end of the brewing process, Silverroot acted as a stabilizer, calming the violent reactions between the other ingredients and preventing the potion from becoming unstable.

Max didn’t actually need to inspect every ingredient.

Only the ones that needed to be fresh.

Fortunately, that was easy enough to verify. Fresh herbs—even after being pulled from their roots—retained enough vitality to continue absorbing small amounts of mana when exposed to a mana-rich environment. By feeding a trace of mana into them, an experienced mage could judge their freshness almost immediately from how readily they responded. Fresh herbs accepted the mana naturally, while older ones reacted sluggishly—or not at all.

Max picked up several finger-length Redleaf herbs, their leaves a deep crimson that almost bordered on black, and gently guided a thread of mana into them.

A few of the leaves responded immediately, absorbing his mana with surprising ease.

The difference was subtle.

Subtle enough that most newly awakened mages probably would’ve missed it entirely.

Max didn’t.

His naturally sharp mana senses caught every tiny fluctuation. They also made something else obvious—the ambient mana in this military town was noticeably denser than it had been back in the city. The herbs here accepted mana far more readily simply because they had spent their lives growing in a richer magical environment.

After testing several bundles, Max quietly set a few of them aside.

Under Yennefer’s watchful gaze, he pointed at the neatly sorted herbs.

"We’ll take these," he said.

"Where exactly have you been hiding him all this time, Zerena?" Yennefer asked, genuine surprise slipping into her voice.

Even without touching the herbs herself, she could tell from a glance how delicately Max was controlling his mana. It wasn’t just that he could sense the differences—it was the precision. The mana flowed exactly where he wanted it to, with barely any waste.

Beside her, Alfred looked equally taken aback.

"If he can control his mana this finely already..." he said, unable to hide his admiration. "I can only imagine what he’ll be like in another few years. You really found yourself a genius. Congratulations."

A wide grin immediately spread across Max’s face.

’Well... what else was the main character supposed to be?’ he thought smugly.

Unfortunately, Zerena looked considerably less pleased than he did.

Not because Yennefer had called him a genius.

But because every compliment aimed at Max brought him one step closer to developing the oversized ego she’d been trying so desperately to keep under control.

And how could she?

At the moment, only Zerena truly understood just how absurdly valuable Max actually was.

The last thing she needed was for him to realize it too.

An ego was already quietly under construction inside that boy’s head. If people kept feeding it compliments, controlling him later would become an entirely different headache.

"Nonsense," Zerena said, dismissing the praise with a wave of her hand. "He still has a long way to go."

Then she slid the selected herbs across the counter.

"Now pack those up for me. We’ve still got places to be."

Yennefer smiled knowingly.

"Well, you heard the lady, Elfie," she said, turning toward him. "Go on. Pack her things."