Chapter 58: Vigor Elixir and Vital Essence Oil

The “greens” Phield mentioned were, of course, not ordinary vegetables meant for the table. They were a magical plant originating from Rum Village—one that induced an intense drive for reproduction in those affected.

Phield named it Courtship Vine. The name wasn’t particularly elegant, but it was simple and easy to remember.

“Eh?” Ashina’s tail shot straight up. Her cheeks flushed faintly as the tips of her white-stockinged feet rubbed awkwardly against the floor. “Starting the day with something this extreme?”

“Of course,” Phield replied matter-of-factly. “The Nightfall Domain produces almost nothing. I’ve been anxious for a while now. Since we finally have a magical plant, it’s only natural to study it thoroughly.”

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Ashina sighed helplessly. “Alright… but please keep your distance the entire time. For your own safety.”

The room used to cultivate Courtship Vine was located in a corner on the second floor of the grand manor. It was secured with iron chains and clearly marked with a sign reading No Entry. Without a key, no one could enter—though the window technically provided another way in.

Of course, if some fool ever decided to climb in through the window…

They would lose all reason almost instantly under the plant’s influence and begin behaving in a thoroughly undignified manner against the manor’s stone walls—or worse, leap straight back out. Not far away was the cattle enclosure. Anyone with a death wish could test their luck there, assuming they weren’t gored first.

“The Courtship Vine grown in normal soil is nearly withered,” Ashina reported from inside the room. “But the ones planted in corrupted soil look completely fine.”

“Good thing we set up a control group,” Phield said thoughtfully. “This plant is clearly adapted to corrupted environments. Life always finds a way—even in lands touched by death.”

“There’s no toxin, though,” Ashina added casually, taking a bite without hesitation. Her expression didn’t change. “It’s even a little sweet.”

…You’re impressive.

The Divine Chosen’s resistance to magic was absurdly overpowered. Back then, Phield had only smelled it briefly and immediately found his instincts going wildly off-track—though, fortunately, Ashina had been the only one present.

Maybe next time, he could test it on Rosalia.

“Pull out the vines that are about to wither and grind them into a paste,” Phield instructed from a safe distance. After watching Ashina complete the process efficiently, he added, “Now mix in well water. Be generous.”

Soon, a bottle of blue liquid with a strangely subtle aroma was finished.

“Let’s test it on the sheep.”

There were still eleven sheep in the pen—two rams, one old and one young. The original plan had been to slaughter the older one for meat, but after the battle at the main manor cost them two warhorses, the available fodder was redistributed, and the plan was postponed.

Glug, glug.

Phield poured an entire bottle of the diluted potion down the old ram’s throat. Before he could even begin observing its condition—

The ram let out a hoarse cry, its aged sluggishness vanishing in an instant as it charged headlong into the flock with manic vigor.

The scene that followed was… intense.

The ewes panicked, utterly unprepared for such behavior, while the ram displayed stamina no creature its age should have possessed.

“That’s brutal,” Phield muttered, licking his lips thoughtfully. “I’ll need to record the exact duration. We can’t afford accidents if this is ever used on people.”

“As long as it means more lambs,” he added calmly, “it also means more meat.”

Ashina, on the other hand, was simply pleased at the thought of the Nightfall Domain producing more livestock.

By four in the afternoon, the ram had finally collapsed, utterly exhausted, twitching weakly as foam gathered at its mouth.

The ewes fared slightly better, though they huddled together in clear distress.

“Six hours and thirty minutes,” Phield said, rubbing his aching temples.

He had spent nearly seven hours observing the experiment in order to record the most accurate data possible.

“It still needs further dilution—at least a thousandfold. A normal man wouldn’t survive six hours of nonstop exertion. Even a sheep couldn’t handle it, let alone a human.”

“My lord, please have some tea.” Ashina approached with a tray of desserts and red tea, setting it on the low table beside Phield’s chair before carefully pouring for him. “Following your instructions, the chef called it a ’cake.’ It’s apple-flavored.”

“Even if we perfect it, don’t make this too often,” Phield said after a bite, noticing small apple chunks inside. “Cream, milk, and sugar are all valuable supplies. We can indulge once the Nightfall Domain is wealthy.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “The taste is good, but the presentation needs work. This month’s silver coins will go to the chef as a reward.”

“I agree!” Ashina blinked. “By the way… that ram didn’t make it, did it?”

“No. There was no saving it—and no reason to.”

Phield glanced once at the unfortunate animal, now presumably returned to the goddess’s embrace, assuming the goddess was willing to accept it.

“Then… maybe we should—” Ashina stuck out her tongue slightly, a sly smile forming.

“Slaughter it and use the meat,” Phield said, already knowing what she wanted. He smiled indulgently. “Have the chef clean the organs properly.”

“Yay! Long live Lord Phield!”

“Dilute the potion another thousand times. No—fifteen hundred. It shouldn’t drive people mad just by smelling it. Ten to twenty minutes of effect is enough.” Phield’s eyes gleamed faintly. “I plan to sell all of it in Maple Leaf City. A decadent place like that will love it.”

At the very least, Baron Simon Mapleleaf certainly would. The last time Phield saw him, the man had been buried in women and still utterly unresponsive—clearly past his prime.

“As you wish, my lord,” Ashina replied. “But I prefer combat. Am I going to be brewing potions all the time now?” She looked a little aggrieved.

“Once we confirm the correct ratio, the villagers can handle production. As long as the scent itself doesn’t affect people, it’s safe. Besides, a single plant yields a massive amount of product—it won’t be too troublesome.”

“Alright!” Ashina agreed readily, then tilted her head in thought. “What will you name it? And how will you price it?”

Spending so much time around Phield had noticeably sharpened her thinking.

In simple terms: she was getting smarter.

“Good question. Pricing needs careful consideration, but I already have names.” Phield said smugly. “Part of it will be mixed with flour and formed into pills—those will be called Vigor Elixir. The rest will remain bottled as Vital Essence Oil. The bottled version will be exclusive to nobles; commoners can’t afford glass containers anyway.”

The glass bottles used in the Nightfall Domain were still largely supplied by potion and purification draught production.

“Vigor… Elixir?” Ashina clearly didn’t understand the odd term. She shook her head, her beast ears wobbling along with the motion, then smiled brightly. “But Vital Essence Oil sounds wonderful—after all, it’s a product developed with the participation of me, Ashina, Divine Chosen of Winter.”

Any product associated with a Divine Chosen was guaranteed to sell at a premium.

Phield thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “In any case, it sounds interesting, doesn’t it?”

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