Punk cast the apprentice-level incantation spell—Energy Transformation—on the ball, which had become unbearably hot, reaching at least two thousand degrees. The violent energy rapidly changed nature, transforming into calm etheric energy.
Within seconds, the small sphere—once blazing like a miniature sun—dimmed. The violent light softened into a pure white glow, shrinking into a beautiful luminous point before quietly dispersing into the air.
The danger was gone.
Punk lightly shook his left hand a few times.
As the Mage Armor faded, the red burn on his palm became visible. The mark stood out clearly against his pale skin.
Looking at it, Punk released a slow breath of relief.
He immediately cast another apprentice-level energy-shaping spell—Secondary Life Healing.
Soft life energy flowed gently across his palm. Under the warm glow, the burn rapidly faded. The pain dulled, the damaged skin regenerated, and within less than twenty seconds his hand returned to its original appearance—white, smooth, and delicate.
Punk flexed his slender fingers.
The movement was completely normal.
Satisfied, he slowly raised his head and looked around.
The laboratory had become a complete mess.
Wood chips covered the floor like scattered debris from a storm. Many pieces were blackened by the intense heat. The walls—already fragile before—were now punctured by large holes created during his hurried escape.
Through those holes he could see the inner section of the laboratory.
Whether the alchemy tools had survived… he did not yet know.
A quiet anger began to burn inside Punk.
He fully understood the classification of apprentice-level potions. Their effects were limited to apprentice-level magic. That part made sense.
But the individual who categorized the refining difficulty of the Night Vision Potion as "apprentice-level medium difficulty" clearly had no idea what they were doing.
Yes.
Theoretically, an apprentice mage could refine it.
Punk mentally emphasized theoretically three separate times.
In reality, the process was far more difficult.
Even a talented trainee mage with extraordinary precision—someone with "golden fingers"—would struggle greatly. An ordinary apprentice mage attempting this formula would likely waste tens of thousands of gold coins in materials and years of effort, even under the guidance of a skilled teacher.
And even then—
Success would not be guaranteed.
Yet the potion was still labeled "apprentice difficulty."
To many aspiring alchemists, the road of alchemy was not merely expensive.
It was dangerous.
The knowledge was costly, the materials were rare, the tools fragile—and mistakes could easily become deadly.
It was a trap.
A true "God trap."
A path that could consume both wealth and life.
Punk quietly reflected on the state of magical civilization.
Modern mages still lived under the heavy shadow of the ancient Kathirel civilization, yet showed almost no sign of restoring the former glory of magic.
The rarity of mages alone proved this stagnation.
Many believed the so-called "obstacle of the gods" was responsible.
Punk disagreed.
In his opinion, the real enemy of magical progress was far more mundane.
Wizards themselves.
Knowledge was hoarded.
Books deliberately omitted crucial steps.
Key theories were fragmented across multiple sources.
Even instructional texts often concealed vital information.
Instead of expanding magical knowledge, most mages guarded it like dragons guarding treasure.
These practices slowly strangled the development of magic.
Shaking his head slightly, Punk accepted the reality of the world.
In this era, acquiring knowledge required competition, exchange, and sometimes plunder.
That was simply the truth.
Letting the thoughts fade from his mind, Punk ignored the debris covering the floor. The scattered wood chips became nothing more than an "alternative carpet."
The only thing that mattered now was identifying the failure and trying again.
He dusted off his robe calmly and stepped back through the hole he had smashed in the wall.
Giving up was not in his nature.
"System, analyze the cause of the energy conflict."
While speaking, Punk began inspecting his equipment.
Fortunately, because he had removed the unstable energy ball in time, the alchemy tools were still intact.
The system responded immediately.
"Analysis result: bad contact between No. 7 positive energy unit and No. 213 semi-energy unit caused failure in No. 7648 magic power line. The power line could not interrupt the contact in time, resulting in chain thermal energy conversion."
Punk nodded slightly.
"System, provide a solution."
"Analysis result:
Adjust the positive energy density of No. 7.
Adjust the timing of the dark element for No. 335.
Increase the magic control line for No. 213 semi-energy unit."
A faint smile appeared.
"Very good."
Punk stretched his arms.
During the movement, his hood slipped back, revealing his azure blue hair. Each strand looked clear and luminous under the dim light.
He casually brushed the hair aside.
"Has it grown faster again? I should trim it soon."
After tidying his hair, he pulled the hood back into place.
"Time to begin the second attempt."
"System—record all experimental data."
After an entire day and night of continuous work, punctuated only by short periods of meditation to restore his magic power, Punk finally succeeded.
All ten sets of alchemical materials had been consumed.
But the result was worth it.
Although the product was merely an apprentice-level auxiliary potion, it marked Punk's official entrance into the field of alchemy.
From this moment onward—
He could legitimately call himself an alchemist.
The finished Night Vision Potion rested inside a test tube sealed with a magically blessed cork.
The liquid was perfectly clear.
Inside, a thread of dark purple light slowly spiraled like a delicate helical coil, rotating gracefully within the glass.
Under the soft illumination created by the Dancing Lights spell, the potion looked almost beautiful.
Its magical structure was stable enough to last three years without degradation. With additional magical preservation, the shelf life could be extended even further.
Punk examined the potion quietly.
"So after all that effort… I only receive a book as a reward?"
His voice sounded indifferent.
Yet deep inside, a faint trace of satisfaction remained.
The greatest gain from the last twenty-seven hours was not the potion itself.
It was the experience—
The improvement in magic control, and the deeper understanding of alchemical energy fusion.
While Punk admired his small masterpiece, a distant sound reached his ears.
Music.
Laughter.
Cheers.
His keen elven hearing easily captured the noise.
The Green Festival the barbecue vendor had mentioned had already begun.
Punk looked up toward the city streets.
His mood was unexpectedly good.
Perhaps it would not be a bad idea to step outside for a while.
Observing the celebration of this strange world… and purchasing new alchemy materials to replenish his supplies.
With that thought, Punk carefully stored the potion and prepared to leave the laboratory.