"Water of Balance!"

Ian took out the incomplete formula again. He examined it over and over but found nothing unusual, so he put it away.

The mental warning he had received earlier told him this item was far from simple. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened.

’Maybe it’s not a Neutralizing Potion at all! Kristen must not have known its true value when she traded it to me.’

Since he couldn’t figure it out, Ian put it out of his mind.

He straightened his red robes and went out to find Hank.

Along the way, people who saw the red robes Ian wore cast reverent gazes at him.

Hank’s residence was a reinforced stone house, right next to the Central Stone Tower.

Ian knocked on the door. A rough, hoarse voice answered from inside, "Come in."

Pushing the door open, he saw Hank sitting at a rough wooden table, wiping his Merciful Battle Saber.

Seeing it was Ian, Hank paused and placed the saber on the table.

"Ian." He stood up, his expression more serious than usual, even showing a rare trace of unease. "I was just about to look for you."

Ian watched him calmly, saying nothing.

Hank took a deep breath, an earnest look appearing on his weathered face.

"Last night... Sterling asked about the Bloodline Potion. I couldn’t hide it."

He paused, his voice low. "The Will of an Official Wizard represents the Will of the High Tower here. It’s not something Apprentices like us can defy."

"If I had lied, I wouldn’t just be punished myself. I would have implicated Poison Fang and even more people. For that, I’ve wronged you."

Ian looked into Hank’s eyes. The captain was usually taciturn and steady, but his apology now was remarkably direct.

He didn’t make any excuses, and Ian could sense the helplessness in his words.

Ian felt the same way; a sense of frustration still lingered within him.

Inside the Central Stone Tower, even after he had brought up Alevia’s name, Sterling had still easily traded something Ian couldn’t even use at the moment for the Bloodline Potion formula and all his Magic Stones.

If he hadn’t managed to claw back some small benefit, he didn’t know how long the bitterness would have lasted.

’When you’re weak and someone takes advantage of you, if you’re truly powerless to resist, you just have to accept it!’

’With the help of my panel, my growth rate far exceeds that of an ordinary genius. When the time comes, what can’t I take back!’

"I understand," Ian said slowly, his tone softening.

"When Sterling Wizard himself asks, no one can hide anything. Let’s just put this behind us."

Hank visibly sighed in relief, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly.

He looked at Ian, a flash of gratitude in his eyes that quickly turned into a deeper solemnity.

"Also... about Poison Fang. I have to thank you."

His tone became exceptionally serious. "Before he left this morning, I carefully sensed Poison Fang’s aura. It’s more than just a notch stronger than yesterday."

The Rock Armor Demon Bear aura on Poison Fang was very distinct, already surpassing that of some core members from ordinary bloodline clans.

That bloodline Power was extremely condensed and active, without the slightest sign of instability or mutation.

Just two Potions had such a miraculous effect!

Ian thought back carefully. ’Why haven’t I felt any particularly strong bloodline Power myself?’

’I passed out when I took the Potion. What happened during that time? Did the panel help me?’

He had a faint feeling that the panel had already helped him expel the impurities from his bloodline, which was why he showed almost no Superpowers aside from being able to transform.

Ian broke off his train of thought and looked at Hank. "It was just a trade. As long as he comes back alive and brings me the Rock Armor Demon Bear’s Essence Blood, it’s a win-win."

Despite his words, they both knew that on a precarious war front like this, a Potion that could significantly boost one’s strength was worth far more than what a simple "trade" could measure.

As the atmosphere eased, Ian took the opportunity to ask, "Captain Hank, how much do you know about the Osborne Clan? When we were seeing the others off this morning, there was an old man among them who gave me a very hostile look."

Hank frowned, sat back down, and gestured for Ian to sit as well.

"The Osborne Clan... I don’t know much about them either. They’re a third-rate bloodline clan within the High Tower’s domain. They once produced an Official Wizard, but they’ve declined in recent times."

Ian listened intently. From Hank’s account, he learned that the Osborne Clan had sent eight people this time, one of whom had died during the previous Blood Bat attack.

"So that means only those six Middle Level Apprentices are in the camp." Ian breathed a sigh of relief. The enemy was within a range he could handle.

The old man who had looked at him was named Lucy Osborne. He was from Leon’s uncle’s generation and had poor aptitude. He had only managed to reach the Middle Level by relying on his clan’s resources and was extremely unpopular within the clan.

"They rely on Leon’s strength and tend to act quite arrogantly, so they’ve offended many people. That’s about all I know."

"Thank you for the information. That’s more than enough." Ian was satisfied.

Hank didn’t ask why he was interested in information about the Osborne Clan, which was good.

Hank shook his head, hesitated for a moment, and finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind:

"Ian, that Bloodline Potion you gave Poison Fang... do you have any more?"

His voice was filled with unconcealable longing, and his eyes burned as he stared at Ian.

Ian’s heart stirred. ’The real negotiation is starting now.’

He remained outwardly calm and said slowly, "I don’t have any on hand, but I can take custom orders. I just need the materials—the Essence Blood of a Rock Armor Demon Bear. The more, the better." 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Hank immediately replied, "I can find a way to get the Essence Blood. There are some near the Scorching Canyon. It’s dangerous there, but if we organize a few hunting parties and are careful, we should be able to get a good amount."

He then remembered that Ian had asked him about this before. He hadn’t paid it much mind at the time, but now he realized it was for Refining the Bloodline Potion.

Seeing the desire in Hank’s eyes, Ian knew the deal was as good as done.

"In that case, we can cooperate," Ian said with a faint smile.

"I’ll provide the Potions, you provide the Essence Blood. However, I won’t accept Magic Stones."

Hank was taken aback. "Then what do you want?"

"Contribution Points." Ian spoke the two words, his tone calm yet unyielding.

"I’m not interested in Magic Stones. Right now, I only want Contribution Points."

Ian had been coveting the good things in the warehouse for a long time.

"How many Contribution Points are you asking for one Potion?" Hank asked in a low voice.

Ian held up five fingers. "500 Contribution Points."

Hank sucked in a sharp breath. 500 Contribution Points!

What did that even mean? Ian’s basic daily mission only earned 40 points. Even with extra tasks, it would take him ten days to reach that number!

Hank didn’t immediately argue. He lowered his gaze and began to weigh his options rapidly.

’If... if I could get my hands on an enhanced Rock Bear Potion, my strength would instantly put me at the peak of the Elite High Level Apprentices, or even...’

His heart began to pound uncontrollably. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP. 500 Contribution Points. Was it expensive? Absurdly so!

’But was it worth it?’ Hank opened his eyes, his gaze now firm.

"Worth it!" He bit out the two words, his voice decisive and unwavering.

"But I can’t come up with that much right now. The rewards from the last battle haven’t been distributed yet. I only have a little over 200 points on hand."

Ian had expected this and smiled. "You don’t have to pay it all upfront. You can provide the Essence Blood Materials first."

"After I Refine the Potion, you can pay the Contribution Points in installments, or... pay it off in other ways."

"What other ways?"

"Information, resources... and at certain times, I’ll need you to give me some support," Ian said, his meaning clear.

Hank understood instantly. Ian wasn’t just making a deal; he was building his own network.

It seemed Ian had enemies of his own. He needed allies, people who would support him at critical moments.

And he, a veteran squad leader with considerable prestige among the Apprentices, was the most suitable candidate for an ally, especially since the camp itself was not a monolith.

Hank stood up and extended a rough, calloused hand. "A pleasure doing business with you, Ian."

Ian also rose and shook Hank’s hand. One hand was rough and heavy, the other long and powerful.

In that moment, a solid alliance was formed.