Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 212: One hundred and fifty-seven: Ignition (2)_2

Chapter 212: One hundred and fifty-seven: Ignition (2)_2

Malin looked bewildered; he felt that all the language arts he learned back on Earth were completely useless—this damn world really left him puzzled about what to do.

"Actually, Dwarves do the same, we call each other stubborn rocks, thickheaded, it’s all fine, but non-Dwarves can’t describe us that way," the Xingyan girl added from the side.

This young Dwarf, who hadn’t grown much taller in the past year but whose waist had significantly expanded, was adept at developing horizontally during puberty, and this girl was no exception.

"Is it not okay for Malin to say that about you?" Colin asked.

"Of course, it’s okay if Malin says it, because he’s both handsome and adorable; you, on the other hand, can’t say that," the Xingyan girl gave Colin a dismissive glance.

Colin rolled his eyes at Malin.

Malin, filled with a murderous intent that had no outlet, thought, Brother, your knack for bringing up the most infuriating topics must be a gift passed down from your mother, who got it straight from your grandmother’s womb.

"Stop talking, your sister is about to take her medicine," Old Ferrero, who had come to watch, said, diverting Malin’s attention to the scene at hand.

His sister had already picked up the vial of medicine, and seeing its luminous blue color, Malin felt anxious.

Truth be told, Malin had crammed on this subject; first of all, Potionology for humans and the Shamanic practices of Orcs were two entirely different matters. The former was a technology developed by humans out of the painful realization that there were too few and hard-to-replace Professionals when facing the Tide of the Dead’s onslaught of Chaos.

Magic Potions allowed those humans who were not qualified to become Professionals to gain extraordinary powers, providing humanity with enough troops and Professionals to protect their cities and kingdoms. Later, humans began to improve Magic Potions, striving to remove the dangerous ingredients and adverse reactions. Although the improvements were minimal, at least the distortions and mutations decreased by a fraction. Alchemists spent centuries evolving Potionology to what it is today. Initially, battle potions were like poison, the desperate choice for human Guardians facing dire straits, but now, it has become the go-to option for the majority of humans who couldn’t become Professionals but still aspire to transcendence.

Meanwhile, the Shamanic path of the Orcs was an indigenous profession in this world. Initially, it centered on the spirit and soul, but when Chaos invaded, the spirits either turned into Spirits or joined Chaos. In the end, a Panthera Transcendent ignited the divine flame and became the ruling goddess of the moon, leading the Shamanic path back on track. Before that, becoming a Shaman was the most malicious curse one could think of for an Orc, for to become a Shaman one had to communicate with spirits, which was akin to having a face-to-face conversation with Chaos or a Spirit.

It was like committing suicide.

Now, the Shaman’s path requires mastery in both Spell Formations and martial prowess, skilled at close-quarter blade fighting, capable of flinging spells from a distance, and proficient in Shaping Spells, Protection Spells, and Assistance Magic.

Although there is a saying that being a jack-of-all-trades means being master of none, the Leopard people clearly do not fall into this category of weakness—Malin, having a little Leopard Girl for a sister, would certainly know of her race’s advantages in physique and agility. A year ago, Maya was able to leap, spin four and a half times, and clear a street, passing between two carriages, then with a single kick, send a pickpocket flipping through the air in a full-body spiral followed by a 720-degree free fall.

That move, Malin felt he could never accomplish in his lifetime; as a Half-blood, he could only brandish a street lamp thicker than a human arm to sweep the streets, intimidate delinquents seeking revenge for their brothers, bust a fool who didn’t believe in consequences, and then casually clobber any troublemaker daring to pull a weapon.

As for pure martial arts skills, Malin wasn’t worried that Maya wouldn’t learn them; his Elven mentor had mentioned more than once that if this girl weren’t an Orc, she would have already taught her what sword dancing is all about.

As for why they called Malin, the mentor said in her whole life she had never seen a little fellow with Elven bloodline who could beat people up with a street lamp as a weapon.

She also refused once more to teach Malin the advanced steps of a Sword Dancer, reiterating that Malin should master the basic steps she had taught before they could talk about the advanced ones.

Forget it, Malin thought, now when he steps onto the training field, he could make that seventh-grade half-Elf dizzy at the very least.

Of course, the question now is whether Maya can really step onto the Shamanic Path.

Thinking of this, Malin turned his head and asked Colin, "Didn’t you say the Shamanic Path doesn’t require consuming magic potions?"

"That’s Essence Potion, purely herbal. It’s a completely different concept from the magic potions we brew using various organs and mysterious materials," Colin rolled his eyes at Malin and continued, "Some professions even need Essence Potions to reduce the side effects of magic potions; otherwise, hardly any progressors would survive. After Step Three in the ladder, Essence Potions are mandatory; without them, the risk of distortion and mutation is terrifyingly high. We’re talking about the kind of change that turns people alive into Chaos Spawn. You’ve seen them, haven’t you?"

"Seen them," Malin replied. He had indeed, chopping his way down a street in Parol City with his axe. Those poor creatures that received a ’blessing’ of Chaos but failed in the process, they usually retained their professional roles and ranks from before their transformation. For example, a warrior would become a melee-focused Chaos Spawn with no magical or transcendental abilities. If a high-ranking Sage turned into a Spawn, Malin imagined he’d come across one with a body entangled in Spell Formations, capable of casting more and more spells at him.

"Without Essence Potions, when a Shepherd moves to Step Four, there’s an eighty percent chance of erring during the communion with the divine flame due to hearing things one shouldn’t hear, with the most common being whispers of evil Chaos gods. Without being able to Purify one’s own distortion, they become Chaos Spawn," Colin explained.

"What about with the potion?"

"Even then, there’s no one hundred percent success rate. But a failure doesn’t result in death, and if you’re lucky, after maybe five or ten years, you could try again," Colin’s answer made Malin glance at the bottle, "It must be very expensive, right?" As someone miserably poor in the Supernatural Realm, Malin was acutely sensitive to prices.

"Expensive as hell. Only the Panthera of The Great Forest Land, the elves of Crown Forest, and the dwarves of Logan Market produce Essence Potions. Many potions can’t even be bought with Paper Money or Gold Coins because those can’t begin to measure their value; you have to trade with various materials," Colin looked almost as distressed as Malin, "Plus, potions made from different materials have different effects. My advice is if you’re not sure of the origin of the Essence Potion, don’t ever drink it. You won’t know if you’re drinking medicine or poison. Even the elven Essence Potions come in two types: one for elves and one for non-elves. We can only drink the former; if we drank the latter, turning into a monster is the most likely outcome."

"What about me?" Malin pointed at himself.

Colin’s face was the epitome of indescribable.

"I got it," Malin patted his forehead, "Looks like I can only turn to the dwarves or The Great Forest Land."

As a half-blood, he really should have been prepared for this.

With that thought, Malin watched his sister drink the potion.

It looked bitter. The girl frowned and contorted her face as if she were trying to squeeze every bit of it together while drinking.

Was it really that bitter? Malin wondered but quickly realized—of course, for the stability of the potion’s effects, no superfluous ingredients could be added; it wasn’t like the cough syrup from human drugstores that was sickeningly sweetened with honey.

Once Maya had downed the Essence Potion, Malin immediately widened his eyes; he didn’t want to miss his sister’s transformation into a... ah spit, the wonderful scene of her Spiritual Energy awakening.

It was said that when Spiritual Energy awakened, some people could float in the air, some could indiscriminately cast spells, and others might reveal a side of themselves never seen before.

At this thought, Malin once again remembered his little Leopard Girl leaping across the street, kicking someone’s neck crooked, and then quietly stepping back two paces.

A dead poor man is never as thrilling as a dead comrade.

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