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Chapter 42: The Value of a Purple Potion
What was fortunate for Aina and me was that the Royal Capital Black Market was even more chaotic than usual that day because an elf slave was being auctioned. The security personnel were busy dealing with the crowds, so even a scuffle like ours resulted in nothing more than a stern warning.
“...You’re more short-tempered than I thought.”
“...Sorry.”
The sight of a girl who looked no older than a high school student sending a giant man flying with a single punch had captivated everyone nearby.
Even though the Royal Capital Black Market attracted rougher crowds than most places, many people thought the fat merchant's behavior had gone too far. That was why Aina’s act of violence ended up being overlooked amid cheers and applause. Reading the atmosphere, the guards seemed to conclude that she wasn't significantly at fault.
Enŭmӓ
On the other hand, the person responsible—Aina herself—looked utterly depressed. If this were a manga, there would probably be a giant "GLOOM..." sound effect hanging over her head. Apparently, the fact that she had laid hands on an ordinary civilian weighed heavily on her.
That said, I couldn't exactly comfort her. The customer had certainly been awful, but when an adventurer with superhuman abilities assaults a civilian, it can easily become a serious crime. This time, she had simply been lucky. Under different circumstances, she could have ended up a criminal.
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That's why I chose not to say anything. ...Besides, Saioji would probably give her a lecture later, so there was no need for me to do it.
Perhaps because of the commotion involving Aina, the purple potions on display attracted even more attention.
Naturally, many customers hesitated due to the price, but several people expressed interest in buying them. Most were not merchants. They were heavily equipped adventurers.
“Guild appraisal certificate... Sir, I'll buy this.”
E n̂ ǔ m̀а̀.î d
“Thank you very much.”
Five million per bottle. It was far from a cheap purchase, yet some people in this world apparently made decisions without hesitation.
One customer examined the potion and the guild certificate only briefly before deciding to buy. An audible murmur of surprise spread through the surrounding crowd. Even in the Royal Capital Black Market, where expensive goods changed hands every day, transactions involving purple-grade potions seemed rare.
“...By the way, sir. How did you acquire this?”
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“Let's just say I had the right connections.”
The adventurer who bought one of my homemade potions was a man distinguished by extraordinarily long hair. He was tall, about a head taller than most of the surrounding customers. However, his build was lean and slender, giving him a rather delicate appearance.
W̌.еb̂ n оvе̇ l Ĕ ň u m а
“I see. If you ever obtain more, I would very much like to purchase them. Here is my adventurer card. Bring it to the guild, and they will process the sale directly. Whatever the current market price is will be fine.”
“Understood.”
What he handed over was a copy of his adventurer card. In other words, something like a business card in this world.
His name was...
Maxwell.
“Are you sure that's alright? Of course, I'm not planning to exploit anyone, but depending on the circumstances, the price could nearly double.”
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“That isn't a problem. Just pay attention to the expiration date.”
This time, I was selling them at close to the minimum market price. But at certain times, the value could nearly double.
The most common examples were when an unexplored dungeon was discovered within the country or when the prospect of war increased. Like stock prices, potion values rose and fell according to rumors spreading through the royal capital.
The Cainliese Kingdom was generally peaceful, but conflicts broke out fairly often in neighboring nations. For example, the nation south of Cainliese—the Confederation of Einharbor City-States, a country formed by multiple independent cities—was said to be embroiled in conflict year-round.
And war was hardly the only cause. Monster outbreaks occurred. Noble succession disputes erupted into violence. There was no shortage of reasons for fighting. Recently, however, things had been relatively calm, which helped keep potion prices low.
That was why I gave Maxwell the warning that prices depended on the market situation. Yet he didn't seem concerned. The idea of not caring about spending several million at a time was impressive. Maybe he was actually a fairly famous adventurer.
Е n̆ um ȧ
“Purple-grade potions rarely reach the market. You're lucky if even one appears in a month. Because of that, many people are forced to live with untreated injuries.”
“Really?”
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“Yes. Even among healing mages, very few can perform regenerative treatment. That's why purple potions are necessary. Demand far exceeds supply. That's why I said you could charge whatever price you wanted.”
According to Maxwell, minor injuries could be treated with low-grade potions or healing magic. But due to the nature of adventuring, losing fingers, arms, legs—or entire limbs—to monsters was not uncommon.
The purple potion he had just purchased would be used on a party member who had lost a finger during a battle against monsters the previous month. The treatment method sounded horrifying. The damaged area would be cut away cleanly before the potion was applied like an ointment to regenerate the missing body part. Just hearing about it made my spine tingle. Yet despite the pain and expense, many adventurers still wanted the treatment.
Well, of course they do. Losing a limb could force someone into retirement.
E n̄ ǔ m̈á . i̇ d
For adventurers, their bodies were their livelihood. An injury or illness that prevented them from fighting effectively would inevitably reduce their income. Because of that, there were far more adventurers than I had imagined who were willing to pay enormous sums of money for regenerative treatment as quickly as possible.
