Chapter 12: Knowledge Is Cheap

Serayne knew the potion she’d brewed was hardly a masterpiece, but the longer she stared at the appraisal on the screen, the more she wanted to ask if whoever was responsible for item identification took some sick pleasure in kicking novice alchemists while they were down.

Send me back to review the basics? I'm literally studying them right now! For fuck's sake, if you're going to trip someone up, at least pick someone who can walk!

She scanned the final line once more, pressed her lips into a thin line, and snatched the test tube off the appraisal panel - the remark about the serving size, at least, was something she could test immediately.

Carefully pouring about a third of the liquid into a clean bowl, she placed the vial back onto the console and waited for the update, her expression daring the system to try her.

The effect remained unchanged, but the remark about the excessive serving size vanished.

Serayne gave a short, triumphant snort, feeling as though she had just won an argument the other party wasn't even aware they were having.

“So about ten milliliters does the trick,” she murmured, holding the tube up to the light to check the liquid level. “You could have just said that from the start instead of insulting me and everything I've ever stirred.”

She didn't know whether a similar volume applied to other potions, but at least for this one, extra brew didn't enhance the outcome.

She had no intention of wasting doses just because a brim-full tube looked a bit more professional.

Besides, setting wounded pride aside, it was hard to miss the bigger picture: the Worldheart System recognized her creation as a mana draught, assigned it a rank, and verified its effect.

Snarky appraisal or not, she had genuinely created something.

Fine, I’m a novice alchemist with an ugly product, but I'm an alchemist all the same. Now I just need some proper equipment.

She opened the market intending only to buy more test tubes, but within minutes realized that with a little creative thinking, an astonishing number of listings could serve a purpose in her makeshift lab.

Better yet, the prices were so dirt cheap that passing them by felt more wasteful than buying them.

A bartender’s jigger cost ten units of basic materials, but it would let her portion liquids far more precisely than eyeballing.

A wooden ladle went for five, and someone wanted a mere three units for a stirring spoon - an offer Serayne took as a personal invitation to finally retire her stick.

Next she spotted a bamboo tray where she could lay out herbs, a small basket handy for sorting, and a bar of soap for a single unit of material - the sight of which made her acutely aware of every speck of dust, smoke, and dried sweat clinging to her skin since arriving in Elyndra.

Oh, you're mine. Not even a question.

After a few more purchases, she picked up two additional packs of test tubes.

She was just about to close the market when, nestled among kitchenware listings, an unassuming book cover caught her eye - with a title that jolted her awake faster than any alarm clock.

“Fundamentals of Symbology… for ten units of wood?” she murmured, leaning closer to the screen as if proximity could alter the price.

She confirmed the purchase before she could think of a single reason not to.

After her experience with Avelra’s notes and the herbcraft manual, books preserving the lore of this world seemed infinitely more valuable than a handful of raw resources.

Her stockpile was hardly impressive, and every unit spent meant more gathering before she could upgrade her Hearthhold, but most of these items cost single units of material.

She could afford to furnish her workspace without bleeding her reserves dry.

Only when the floor beside the console grew crowded with retrieved deliveries did Serayne tear her eyes from the listings.

Surveying the fruits of her shopping spree, she wondered at what exact point her plan to buy a few glass tubes had turned into outfitting an entire homestead.

The ten slots in her stall inventory couldn't hold such a variety of goods, so instead of trying to cram everything in, she began tidying up the room - nudging larger vessels against the wall and packing smaller sundries into the emptied supply crates.

She stacked her books separately, well away from the bucket and wet utensils, and braced the test tubes so they wouldn't roll across the floor.

Gazing around with satisfaction, she realized her shelter had become something more than just a room with a mattress and a pile of random loot.

It was slowly beginning to look like someone actually lived here, and that small shift felt surprisingly good.

A long yawn interrupted her inspection.

Stretching her arms and easing her stiff back, she caught sight of the reddening sky through the window - a stark reminder that the night she had planned to spend on a single experiment was officially over.

I have soap, I have a towel, I even have a clean bed. If I crawl into it in this state, I deserve my own item appraisal: "reeks of misery."

The moment the thought of bathing crossed her mind, her skin began to itch in protest.

The fabric of her scrubs, reeking of smoke and clinging unpleasantly to her body, became something she couldn't tolerate for another second.

Little water remained in the bucket after tending the brew and dousing the embers, and the wooden floor of her Hearthhold was hardly suited for an indoor bath.

Packing the soap and towel, Serayne headed down toward the familiar stretch of stream, banking on the early hour to keep her from running into anyone other than her own reflection.

She moved carefully, navigating by familiar branches and pausing now and then to listen to the canopy.

The brightening dawn improved visibility, but it certainly didn't mean anything with fangs had suddenly turned friendly.

At a bend in the bank sheltered by roots, she found a spot where she could sit securely and reach the shallows without risking a slide into deeper water.

Scanning the surroundings one last time, she began stripping off her clothes.

Cool morning air caressed her bare skin.

As she leaned forward to set the top on a dry root, her small, firm breasts swayed gently with the motion.

The first splash of water drew a sharp hiss through her teeth, goosebumps breaking across her shoulders.

Rather than wallowing in the misery of the chill, Serayne gritted her teeth and scrubbed, eager to finish before the cold or the eerie sounds of the forest coaxed her into quitting halfway through.

She lathered her neck, shoulders, and torso, washing away the sticky film of sweat and soot, then carefully tended to her legs, guiding their position with her hands and keeping a close eye on where they rested.

Rinsing her hair and the soft fur of her lynx ears took extra care, so by the time she finally reached for the towel, she was thoroughly sick of icy water and had zero interest in lingering by the creek.

Drying off briskly, she threw her clothes back on for the trek up and filled the bucket with fresh water.

Slipping it into her pouch, she climbed back into the familiar boughs leading to her Hearthhold with palpable relief.

Back inside, she peeled off the hospital scrubs and left them to soak.

She brought in the cooled cauldron, the lantern, and the alarm clock, closed the chat feeds on the console, and made her way over to the mattress - knowing that if she took on a single other chore, she would pass out on the floor.

Her hair was still damp, so she spread the towel over the pillow area, slipped beneath the quilt, and sank into the soft cushion with a long sigh.

After hours spent hunching over the hearth, the bed felt like an almost scandalous luxury in a world hell-bent on eating her alive.

Eight points of Spirit might have aided her focus and mana capacity, but it clearly didn't replace sleep.

She drifted off before she could even begin to contemplate what to do when she woke.

Serayne was awoken by a gnawing hunger.

She tried ignoring it at first, tugging the quilt tighter around her shoulders, but after another sharp twist in her stomach, she opened her eyes and checked the clock.

To her shock, it was already past four in the afternoon.

She had slept for roughly ten hours.

Judging by how stubbornly her body resisted the thought of leaving the mattress, she could easily have slept several more - if not for the fact that last night's brewing had come at the expense of dinner, and this morning's hunger had lost out to a bath and immediate collapse.

Congratulations. I can restore mana, but a concept as complex as dinner completely eluded me.

Retrieving the white summer dress from before, she pulled it on, smoothing the fabric beneath her hips so as not to pinch her rabbit tail.

She smoothed her hands along her sides, finding that clean clothes alone did wonders for her mood.

The lightweight fabric draped loosely over her slender frame, subtly outlining the curve of her breasts and waist.

As she leaned down to reach for her rations, the loose neckline slipped forward, prompting an instinctive tug to adjust it - even though she was the only living soul in the room around to see.

Picking out one of the reserved portions of bread, she nibbled on it as she drifted toward the Worldheart Console, reopening the channels to see what had unfolded while she slept.

World Chat remained a tempest of chaos, but amid the demands for materials, complaints, and posts made just for the sake of getting a reply, desperate pleas were cropping up with greater frequency - people searching for mothers, daughters, sisters, partners, and friends.

The initial shock had begun wearing off enough for arrivals to think past their immediate survival, though that realization offered little comfort when nearly every fresh post bore a name and a desperate prayer that someone was still breathing on the other end.

Serayne chewed more slowly, her gaze drifting to the channel’s global counter.

Its staggering figure might still seem steady at a glance - until measured against where it started.

Nearly four hundred and forty thousand people had perished since the transfer to Elyndra.

And this was still during the grace period meant to keep high-level beasts at bay.

On the Regional Channel, the count sat at 9,971.

Even while she slept, more souls in Hollowbriar Forest had fallen silent, never to post another message or list another item on the market.

She had no way of knowing how many had died from carelessness, native beasts, or other arrivals from Asterra.

Shifting her gaze away from the tally, she scrolled through the logs, searching for information she could actually put to use.

Instead of warnings about some lurking predator, she stumbled onto a thread that halted the bread halfway to her mouth.

[I can hardly believe it, but I woke up to see someone actually bought the book I listed.]

[A book? Seriously?]

[For ten units of wood. I have the trade confirmation right here.]

[Serayne Veyra? That her? I saw her name buying up other stuff too.]

[Ooh, she’s pretty. But what’s with all the junk? Does she just have too many resources or what?]

Serayne glanced at her profile icon, then looked back at the chat, a sinking realization dawning on her that she should have checked what details remained visible on completed transactions.

Her morning spending spree hadn't slipped under the radar.

It only took a bit of curiosity and a few purchase receipts for people to link her name to the items now neatly arranged in her cabin.

[What kind of book was it anyway?]

[Fundamentals of Symbology. I skimmed through it, but it’s just an ordinary textbook. No skill prompt, no system confirmation, nothing. I only listed it because tossing it felt like a waste.]

[She can't seriously think she's going to learn from it, right?]

[Maybe she just likes reading, leave her alone.]

[I can read over tea back home. Out here, you gather resources before the barrier drops.]

[Good for her, let her study. I’ve got a book too, putting it up right now.]

[I don't even want ten for mine. Five's plenty, maybe the sucker will bite.]

[I'll let mine go for three just to get rid of it.]

[I threw one out yesterday because it was pure gibberish… If I knew people actually paid for that crap, I would've kept it.]

Serayne choked on a breadcrumb, coughing into the crook of her elbow as she fought back a grin that broadened with every post she read.

Did you all really just decide to raid your crates and deliver books to my doorstep so I can buy them for dirt cheap? How thoughtful of you.

Ever since finding Avelra’s notes, she had wondered where to acquire more knowledge about this world.

Meanwhile, the residents of her sector had concluded that if a book didn't upload a skill directly into their brains upon touching the cover, it was best traded for a few sticks of wood.

She had no intention of jumping into the chat or convincing anyone otherwise - doing so would only drive prices up.

Setting her food aside, she opened the market with an enthusiasm that even hunger hadn't been able to muster moments ago.

Several listings from the morning discussion were still active, and browsing the newest additions turned up even more titles that she snapped up without hesitation, tossing in two more budget packs of test tubes for good measure.

Before long, she held Fundamentals of Drawing, Proper Application of Salt, The Four Elements and Their Four Properties, and A Guide to Fungi - a collection that would have looked utterly bizarre on the shelf of an average resident back on Asterra.

A title alone was no guarantee of value, but at these prices, she could afford to gamble.

A single well-documented mushroom or a core principle Avelra had neglected to mention in her private diary could save her far more than a few scraps of raw material.

Resting the books on her lap, she traced the rim of the top cover, unable to suppress a genuine smile.

For the first time in an eternity, she had so many things she actually wanted to learn that the problem was running out of hours in the day, not running out of hope.

Fresh messages popped up on the Regional Channel almost immediately:

[Holy shit, she’s back. She actually bought them.]

[Mine sold too. She’s dead serious.]

[Wait, can you actually learn something from those books?]

[Don't know. Buy one and find out.]

[Hell no. I'm not wasting materials on that garbage. In four or five days of gathering I’ll upgrade my Hearthhold to Level 2 and beat the barrier deadline.]