Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 373: Unfolding the Potions

Chapter 373: Unfolding the Potions

"Tomorrow, a fighter will come to you, seeking a potion for the Dark Tower. You must explain to him what the potion does and how it will help."

Shaoruo nodded eagerly. "We will, Mr. David. But...what exactly does the potion do?"

Dasha looked at the boys. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes," Heng said. "We don’t want to sell something faulty."

Dasha continued, "...you see, the fighter that will be sent to you is someone I have bet heavily on. The potion, I hope, will push him past his limits." The potion appeared to be the same as the ones they kept: blue and shimmery. "The potion is of the same principle but enhanced. It focuses on quickening reflexes and sharpens the mind. For long term and short term, it is perfectly tailored for the Dark Tower."

"High regen?" Sharouo asked.

"Faster regeneration, yes," Dasha corrected in his own technical way.

"So you wish to rig your own bet?" Heng asked, smirking. "I’ll be damned—"

"We will make sure he knows how to use it," Shaoruo promised. "As long as you can give us the proper coin. This goes beyond a favour as I’m sure you understand, Sir David."

Shaoruo was a sharp kid. So sharp that he didn’t understand how little he could truly see. Dasha quietly supplied the coins and then the requested potion. "Remember, this potion could mean the difference between success and failure. Make sure he knows that."

"And who is he anyway?" Shaoruo asked.

Dasha leaned forward and whispered the name, description, and time of arrival.

***

DING! DING! DING!

The Dark Tower did hold another function aside from hosting battle. At the very, very top, there was said to be a mythical bell that announced when the day began. No one had ever seen it. No one knew what it was. Only that it rang and that it began the day.

Indeed, as soon as the bell rang, the Sukhothai was alive. Selling, buying, fighting, all of it was exploded at once. To distinguish night from day was near impossible for those that weren’t citizens of the Underground. The subtle shine and humidity, from what Dasha could tell, were the largest indicators. But above it all was the bell of the Dark Tower. That was what kept the Dark Tower and its day started.

Heng and Shaoruo set up their stand as they did, but this time, they had a special potion hidden away. It was a deep, shimmering blue that Dasha could feel via his Qi Sense. A mighty drink indeed.

"Ah."

He appeared. Injured just like he said. Lanky with unkept brown hair and a terrible injury in the right shoulder. Heng and Shaoruo recognized him instantly as the fighter Dasha mentioned in his request.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey!" Heng ran over, shoving and pushing to get to him. The lanky male was puzzled and one second away from buying a potion from another stall. Not good. Exactly what Dasha wanted to avoid happening. "Sorry! Not sorry! Anyway, come, come! We sell at a discount! A bronze coin for a rare potion!"

The lanky man was unconvinced and glanced between his current seller and this little boy. "I’m not—"

"You can come back later!" Heng tugged on the injured arm and ignoring the sound of protests dragged him over.

"Y-you little—"

Shaoruo pushed forward the blue potion. "This potion is for you, friend."

"I don’t—" The lanky fighter stopped. The blue colour in which the potion glowed, it called to him. "What...is this?"

"A great potion. A mighty potion. Judging by your arm..." Shaoruo pushed it back. "You lost at the Dark Tower and you come seeking strength. You should know—others won’t help you. They treat customers the same."

"And you don’t?"

"We don’t," Shaoruo said. "Because we’re little and we need a future. You can believe us when we say this will work."

A brow quirked itself up. "For a bronze coin? You claim this super effective potion will cost a bronze coin?"

"It’s called investing," Heng said.

The fighter eyed the potion skeptically. "Explain this investing. Why help me in the Dark Tower?"

Shaoruo crossed his arms. "You are not special. We have handed this potion to several," he lied. "We are trying to find the one. One fighter that will propel us to greatness."

A bronze coin was already set-down though not released. The lanky male was controlling his breath, thinking long and hard. "And you trust this will work?"

Heng met his gaze steadily. "We do. And if you are unsatisfied, then come search for Hen and Shaoruo. We do not move often."

The coin was released from the tip of his finger and pushed forward. The fighter nodded slowly and wrapped his around the potion. "Very well. I will take it."

As the fighter turned to leave, he paused. "Thank you," he said, his voice sincere. "And for the record, my name is Dürr."

"Good luck, Dürr," Shaoruo called after him. "Stay alive."

The boys watched as the fighter disappeared into the crowd, the blue potion clutched tightly in his hand. Lurking in the shadows were a pair of dark keen eyes.

***

Dasha Pang sat on the cold, flat stone of the spectators on the fifty-seventh floor of the Dark Tower. Fighters clashed, their grunts and the clash of steel echoing through the vast space. The arenas no longer hosted numerous arenas but only one at a time. Too much destruction. Too many explosions.

Close to Dasha, he overheard a hushed conversation between two men. Once fighters, now spectators, resting momentarily from their bouts.

"Did you hear?" one fighter muttered, his voice barely audible over the din. "Gūniáng’s on high-alert. Something about his scouts gone missing."

"No, fool, the bodies were found! They were strung up! Someone called the princess a whore!"

"Oh Lord..."

The rumors he had spread had taken root, climbing as high as the fifty-seventh floor. With a slight shift, he rose from the stone and disappeared, leaving the whispers to weave their way through the minds of the warriors.

***

Later, Dasha found himself in a dilapidated building that housed over a hundred souls. He sat beside the one who smelled of blood, Dürr. Between the parents comforting children, the exhausted workers returning from their grueling day, siblings huddled together for warmth and solace, it was Dürr that suffered the most today.

"You battled."

"I did," Dürr said. "I won."

"Did you move up?"

"I forced myself to."

"And?"

Dürr’s hands were shaking. The blood clinging to his face wouldn’t wash away. "...I loved it. I loved the power."

"I saw your first fight. Did you not lose?"

"I did. Once. But now, I am the victor. To be pushed down every day only to finally be able to fight back..." Dürr shuddered and laughed. "You have no idea. Everything here is temporary. Look around. These walls, these people. No one remembers us, and no one cares. But power..."

"Power is forever," Dasha agreed.

"I can understand why Heidi never looked back. Why would she? This place...once I rise up, this place will be worthless."

"That’s good. Although you cannot fool my eye. Where did you gain such power?"

Dürr did not answer.

"You used a potion," Dasha said. "From whom?"

Dürr sucked in a breath. "It doesn’t matter."

"It doesn’t," Dasha agreed. "So long as you keep them close. Potion makers are fickle. Once they see potential, they lock onto a fighter. And once they are locked, they don’t open their services to anyone else."

Dürr turned over. "True. Very true." He fell silent, then got up. "I have to go."

"So suddenly?"

"I believe myself to be worthy. If I am worthy, then I must act like it." Dürr peered down at him. "I suppose a retired fighter would not understand."

"No," Dasha said. "I wouldn’t."