What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

Two months later, at the Inquisition.

Leon was summoned to the Director’s Office by Bishop Beckett. When he entered and locked the door behind him, he saw Bishop Beckett take out an exquisite small wooden box and place it on the desk.

“Sir, what is this?” Leon asked.

“A gift Baron Turner asked me to pass on to you. Open it and take a look.” Bishop Beckett gestured toward the box.

“Baron Turner?” Leon was slightly surprised.

Baron Turner was an old aristocrat of considerable wealth and connections in Caster Town, highly influential throughout South Harbor County.

At the same time, he had once been one of Mr. Griffin Potter’s longtime clients and protectors. However, during the Earl’s move to have Bishop Beckett infiltrate South Harbor County, he chose to accept the Earl’s terms and abandon Potter.

The Inquisition’s eventual control of Potter Manor had also been thanks to the intelligence he provided.

Now, through Bishop Beckett’s introduction, he had become Leon’s client, and Leon had met him once before.

Baron Turner’s only son had died in battle. Ever since, he had hoped to produce another heir but had been hindered by age and declining vitality.

Thus, he had long placed his hopes on a fertility-enhancing Magical Potion brewed from Labyrinth Mandrake Grass.

“Baroness Turner has been confirmed pregnant. Baron Turner paid me a special visit yesterday to share the joy. He originally wanted to visit you in person, but you were still on the island yesterday, so he asked me to deliver the gift instead,” Bishop Beckett explained.

Leon carefully opened the box.

Inside lay a gleaming gold-plated pocket watch, finely crafted. He picked it up and examined it, noticing the engraved dedication on the back along with the signature of its maker.

It was a pocket watch crafted by a renowned master artisan.

In aristocratic circles, such a piece held high collectible value—a very respectable gift indeed.

“That is truly congratulations to him,” Leon said, putting the pocket watch away.

Aside from the fertility potion, Baron Turner had also continued purchasing Longevity Potion from them. He would remain a steady client.

“From what I’ve gathered, the quality of the Magical Potions you’ve been supplying seems to have improved significantly. Our influential clients all say that your goods far surpass what Mr. Griffin used to provide. Your shipments have greatly enhanced the Earl’s reputation.

“Taking territory is one thing; establishing a firm foothold locally is another. I had my concerns at first, but it seems you’ve handled matters far better than I expected,” Bishop Beckett said with a smile.

“As long as the clients are satisfied. I’m grateful they’re willing to give me face,” Leon replied.

“No need to be modest. I also obtained some of your Magical Potions through certain channels and examined them. The Mana purity you’re using should be around eighty percent. Finished products of that grade—even among the Earl’s cadres—few can supply such quantities so consistently.”

At this point, Bishop Beckett abruptly changed tone. “But I do have a question. You haven’t forgotten the quota the Earl assigned you, have you?”

“Of course not. Two hundred grams of Mana,” Leon said.

“Of which fifty grams must be above eighty percent purity,” Bishop Beckett added. “You’re now using such high-purity Mana extensively in your Magical Potions. Are you certain it won’t affect your delivery?”

Leon understood. Bishop Beckett had summoned him mainly out of concern that expending too much Mana on the local Magical Potion market would prevent him from fulfilling next year’s shipment.

“Production has been going smoothly. I expect no problem meeting the deadline. It’s just that the low-purity Mana has been completely used up. At present, I temporarily have no Mana below eighty percent purity,” Leon answered.

“What did you say?” Bishop Beckett showed a hint of surprise. “How much have you produced now?”

“The current stock is about one hundred and twenty grams, with purity between eighty and eighty-seven percent,” Leon thought for a moment before replying.

He had actually understated a small portion of the highest-purity stock—the part given to Rena for preparing medicine to treat Sally.

“Only three months have passed, and you’re already close to finishing?” Bishop Beckett grew even more astonished.

“Not exactly. Over forty grams were extracted from that Drake,” Leon replied.

“That still means you produced roughly eighty grams—during an entire winter?” Bishop Beckett’s gaze turned doubtful.

He knew that Magical Beasts slowed their life activities in winter and did not reproduce.

Normally, these three months should have been Leon’s most strained supply period, relying only on Mana refined from hunting Magical Beasts in the Arend Island Labyrinth as a stopgap.

But one hundred and twenty grams of Mana—this was clearly not an amount achievable solely from the existing Magical Beasts in that Labyrinth, even if it contained a Fourth-Level Magical Beast like a Drake.

“That Labyrinth extends deep into the mountain. The environment inside is relatively warm, and there’s also a Temple ruin dedicated to Moilai within it. The Mana levels are high, and the Magical Beasts have been thriving there even through winter,” Leon replied casually.

Magical Beasts that would normally cease reproduction and enter dormancy in winter were now growing and breeding in the Arend Island Labyrinth just as they did in other seasons.

The primary reason, however, was not the Labyrinth’s Mana level, but rather that Rena’s abilities had improved.

They had discovered that Rena’s Blood Pact ability, compared to before, now also enhanced the life activity and fertility of Magical Beasts.

As a result, these creatures had reproduced normally even in winter, when they should have been resting.

This meant that compared to their originally estimated maximum output, they could now harvest an additional season’s yield, increasing production by another quarter to a third.

“All above eighty percent purity? Did you improve the process? Or did you kill another Blessing Recipient somewhere?” Bishop Beckett asked in confusion.

“We suspect it’s because the Mana in the Arend Island Labyrinth is more refined. Perhaps it’s related to that Temple,” Leon offered.

He certainly had no intention of revealing that both his and Rena’s abilities had evolved.

“In just one winter, you’ve prepared one hundred and twenty grams? Oh, then that works out perfectly.” Bishop Beckett nodded repeatedly.

“Works out perfectly how?” Leon asked cautiously.

“It seems you can report completion to the Earl ahead of schedule. I’ll contact him shortly,” Bishop Beckett said, a smile returning to his face.

“But I haven’t reached two hundred grams yet,” Leon said, somewhat surprised.

“You already have. What you signed with the Earl was six million worth of Mana. One hundred and twenty grams of Mana above eighty percent purity already fully meets the value requirement!” Bishop Beckett added in a half-joking tone, “Of course, if you’re exaggerating to me, you’d better clarify now. Once I report it upward, it won’t be easy to clean up.”

“That’s not the case,” Leon replied calmly. He had even underreported slightly.

“Very good. Then I should congratulate you in advance.” Bishop Beckett nodded. “The timing couldn’t be better.”

“What timing?” Leon recalled that Bishop Beckett had also said “perfect” just now.

“Johnny is preparing to leave River Valley County. The Earl is still considering who will take over there—and you’ve just completed your task.” Bishop Beckett spread his hands toward Leon.

“Does that mean—I’ll be taking over River Valley County?” Leon asked tentatively.

“That was the plan from the start. Of course, the prerequisite was that you complete the task. Now that you’ve exceeded expectations, it’s only natural for you to take over. Don’t worry. River Valley County was originally the Earl’s territory. It’s full of our people, and the business has long been laid out. You only need to meet a few local minor cadres to assume control. I’ll also assist for a while longer,” Bishop Beckett said matter-of-factly.

Leon silently drew in a deep breath.

South Harbor County, River Valley County—he would suddenly possess the territory and markets of two counties.

Previously, the cadre Jero in River Valley County and the local power Mr. Griffin in South Harbor County had been locked in constant struggle. Now, this vast territory had fallen into his hands.

“In that case, we should accelerate our side as well. It’s time to bring this out.” Bishop Beckett placed an appointment letter in front of Leon. “Sign this, and I’ll submit it afterward.”

Leon glanced at the document. “You’re appointing me as Deputy Director now?”

“Time waits for no one. To fully take over the territory, you must become the Director here as planned. Only then can you safeguard the business across the territory. We aim to complete this within half a year,” Bishop Beckett said calmly.

“Half a year? Is that really feasible?” Leon felt uneasy.

He had only just been promoted to Captain. Within a single quarter, he would become Deputy Director. The pace was already suspiciously fast.

Still, it could barely be justified.

During this time, he had accumulated merit within the Inquisition—primarily by dealing with the remnants of Mr. Griffin’s forces.

Those under Mr. Griffin who were useful had, through Father Auden’s introduction, transferred into his command.

Those unreliable, of questionable loyalty, or unwilling to submit had been eliminated by Leon using internal intelligence and, under Bishop Beckett’s instruction, the power of the Inquisition to sweep them away in one stroke.

He had also dealt with scattered minor dealers.

The Earl’s demand for control over the territory far exceeded that of Mr. Griffin, and Leon himself did not want competitors secretly developing within his domain.

Yet these minor merits were not enough to justify a leap across social ranks.

Deputy Director of a local Inquisition was the highest position attainable for a Lower-Ranking Inquisitor—the peak Leon had once foreseen for his career, the pinnacle of his social class, and even reaching that had seemed extremely unlikely.

Yet in less than a year in this line of work, he had achieved it—and it was merely a transitional step. The irony was almost absurd.

But to advance further and become Director was a different matter entirely.

The Director of a local Inquisition held the formal rank of a mid-level Inquisitor—a Church position with an official title, publicly on par with a Fully Appointed Knight and a Bishop.

At the same time, it also meant he would have to accept a Blessing from the Church.