Chapter 26: Sudden Death
I felt like I was back in my days as a magic apprentice.
That frantic rush to finish assignments in the last days of a holiday break at the Magic Academy was hitting me again—except back then, failure meant a scolding from my mentor and a day dangling from a flagpole. Now, if I fail, it’s not just my livelihood at stake; I could lose everything.
But through sheer effort, I finished the potion half a day early.
Looking at the sealed, milky-white potion, I let out a long breath.
“Phew… finally… done.”
With trembling hands, I placed it in a small potion case to ensure it wouldn’t break, then yawned hugely.
“I’m exhausted.”
Relaxing, I saw there was still time, so I hugged the potion case, crawled into bed with my two egg babies, and lay down.
“Ha… I can finally rest… I really thought I was gonna drop dead.”
Taking deep breaths, a heavy wave of fatigue hit me—I even felt a sharp chest pain, but my consciousness slipped away uncontrollably.
“…!!!”
I don’t know how long passed, but I suddenly snapped awake, bolting upright, my face full of confusion.
…I felt oddly refreshed.
Glancing around, I’d slept about five or six hours.
“…Wait, did I… actually die!?”
After a moment, I reached a laughable conclusion.
When I lay down, I must’ve died from exhaustion.
But it makes sense. I’d been working at high intensity for two weeks, and right before resting, I pushed through over ten hours to finish the final step. This frail body, forced to endure that, collapsing was no surprise.
“…Good thing I’m an Immortal Bird.”
Scratching my head, I chuckled after a pause.
…Revived less than a month and I’ve already killed myself three times… Am I gifted or what?
The first two were from frying my brain, and now I’d worked myself to death.
…Is there anyone more reckless than me?
Rubbing my chin, I scratched my hair.
“Phew…”
I lay back down, glancing at the potion case and my egg babies nearby.
I poked their shells.
“Sigh, for you two, I’ve died three times—oh, four, counting the childbirth hemorrhage.”
Muttering while poking them, the eggs didn’t react—either playing dead or actually “sleeping.”
Though unhatched, they’re developing a routine.
After feeding them two pricey crystals, they’re “awake” for an hour or two daily, moving slightly. I can sense their emotions up close. The rest of the time, they sleep quietly.
But instinctively, any disturbance wakes them, their powerful mental storms ready to strike.
Seeing their talent, I’m starting to wonder how strong they’ll be once they hatch.
…Is this a mother’s hope for her kids? I don’t know, but maybe.
I thought quietly, dozed with my eyes closed for a bit, then got up, ate the last bit of food in the kitchen, and decided to head to Golden Skull early—the sooner I deliver and get the remaining payment, the better.
Taking a deep breath, I tucked the egg babies into my backpack as usual, grabbed the locked potion case, and headed out.
Though a few hours remained until Gu Xuanyun’s deadline, I didn’t feel safe leaving something so valuable at home. At Golden Skull, others could watch it, easing my mind.
Clutching the case tightly, I was paranoid about thieves snatching it, staying hyper-vigilant the whole way.
Luckily, Black Obsidian City’s morning security was decent, and I reached Golden Skull smoothly.
“I’ve finished the commissioned potion. Please verify it and pay me the balance.”
Showing my identity, I spoke directly to the supervisor.
“…For large orders like this, verification and payment require the client’s presence, so please wait a bit, Miss [Hidden Moon].”
The supervisor looked hesitant but explained.
Hearing this, I understood it was auction house protocol and nodded.
“Alright, I’ll wait for him.”
I sighed, sat down with the potion case, and waited.
To prevent swaps or fraud, big custom orders typically require both client and maker to verify together—unless the client fully delegates verification, which simplifies things.
Clearly, Gu Xuanyun didn’t delegate to Golden Skull.
