14. Professional Potion Crafting

Emma turned to me with a gentle smile.

“Welcome to my humble camp!”

A small clearing stood before me; a large tent surrounded by trees. It bore the size of a small dining room, with just enough space to stand inside. I fought the zombie to its entrance, and when I peeked inside, my jaw fell to the ground.

Three cages, two of them holding undead. “Put him in the open one, please,” said Emma with a bubbly voice. After a few blinks of recollecting myself, I obliged. Quickly yanking the rope, I pulled the undead before me and kicked it in the back to make stumble into the cell.

“Careful now!” Emma raised her voice with worry.

“Why would I be? He’s already dead.”

Emma adjusted her glasses with a smug smile. “Yet. He is undead, yet.”

I raised an eyebrow at the implications. Does she know how to bring back the undead to life? Come to think of it, I do not know how the undead of this world operate. I never considered whether they are actually dead, sick by a disease, or controlled by a magical puppeteer.

Emma walked to a small desk, set in the corner of the tent. Atop it were alchemical glasses and various different ingredients. Berries, feathers, salt, and alike.

“The Ironbark clan has been tasked by King Michael to discover a cure for the restless undead. Their appearance last year has caused a great deal of disturbance, both economically and politically. Businesses had to be shut down due to fear in rural areas, and when that affects the food supply to the city, great unrest is expected. For that, as the King has been the greatest patron of the Ironbark, it is our duty to come up with the cure.”

“Dope,” I replied.

“Is that really all you can say?”

“Yeah.”

“Perhaps you’re starstruck by the presence of a great Ironbark?”

“Nope.”

“Then what is it?!”

“I just don’t really care about this part of the lore. Zombies are pretty lame, to be honest. Not the most original either.”

“Lore...?” Emma scratched her head. “E-Even then, are you not excited by the possibility of a cure? You won’t have to fear the loss of your loved ones anymore! Mayhaps your parent live abroad?”

Her question rendered me silent for a moment.

My mood dropped.

“Yeah... abroad...”

“Then please have some empathy for others,” said Emma, then returned to mixing ingredients.

This side-quest was not fun anymore. I wanted to go, but she still had to pay me my fee. I sat down on a pile of sacks in the corner.

And waited.

Time passed quickly. When finally something eventful happened, I found myself spiraling into sleep. Almost, as Emma woke me up with her voice.

“YES!” She cried out with excitement. “Finally, after days of tireless work, I managed to mix the required ingredients without an explosion!”

“Hold on, did you just say explosion?” But Emma did not hear me in her joy.

“Alas, behold! The potion of Cure Undead!”

She took a small glass filled with purple potion and a cage. Reaching inside, she grabbed the undead by the neck, and with uncharacteristic violence that made me recoil from shock, she pulled the undead closer. Its head produced a loud “Thunk!” as it hit the iron bars.

Emma bashed the glass into the undead’s mouth and backed away after pouring it down its throat.

The zombie growled like an animal. It tried attacking us, but the bars held it back.

For a moment, it seemed like her potion had no effect. But quickly, after it got into the zombie’s bloodstream, a change occurred.

The undead lowered its arms, quietly staring at us. It stood still, like a broken scarecrow.

“Did it work?” I asked with confusion and fear. At that moment, the zombie suddenly made an ear-piercing scream. A noise to rival an exploding sun. We covered our ears, but it was still painful. I grabbed my pickaxe and charged at the thing to kill it, but with a powerful swoop, it broke the weapon in half.

The screaming stopped. The monster charged against the iron bars and tried to break them. It was no more held back by its lack of awareness or hunger. It was thinking, using its whole body to enhance the blows’ force.

“What the hell?!” I yelled.

“It seems that the potion... malfunctioned.”

“How?! Didn’t you say you were in some fucky prestigious alchemist clan?!”

Emma scratched her head awkwardly. “Eh... hehe... you see, I’m kind of in permanent exile.”

“YOU WHAT?!”

The thing broke out of the cage. I took the trashed blade and the sacrificial dagger in my two hands. Not that they could hold back something that broke through iron bars, but I was scared shitless.

However, it did not charge at us. Instead, it walked to the other cage. It grabbed the less powerful zombie inside by the throat, pulled it closer, then threw up in its mouth.

Disgusting. I nearly barfed at the sight.

“It’s trying to spread the potion’s effect,” said Emma, then quickly rushed out of the tent, “Keep them occupied, I’ll change into fighting gear!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Don’t worry, I don’t need them alive anymore!” She completely misunderstood the problem.

The zombie finally stopped its foul act. The two undead stared at each other. Then, as if celebrating their new power, they screamed violently.

I covered my ears and readied for battle.