Chapter 436: Chapter 361: Magical Fertilizer Chapter 436: Chapter 361: Magical Fertilizer It seemed that Magic Scholar’s claim about the remarkable effects on plants was true, referring to this ripening effect akin to accelerated time. In a moment, he intended to experiment with altering the dilution ratio to control the duration of ripening. However, Lancelot was somewhat puzzled. The mysterious green liquid, condensed from the profound Cauldron Immortal Technique, surely couldn’t be this simple, could it?

But the next second, his expression changed because he thought of one of the main ways Spiritual Cultivators improved their cultivation levels: Elixirs. Without going too far, what he read most recently in the small bamboo slips was about a type of elixir called Gathering Spirit Pill. Consuming one pill was equivalent to years of arduous cultivation, and almost every insight about the Foundation Establishment Stage recommended that cultivators consume it as soon as possible.

Beyond that, there were more elixirs with magical effects: some prevented aging and maintained one’s youthful appearance; some were fed to magical beasts to enhance their innate potential; some increased one’s sensitivity to nature’s spiritual energy, making cultivation twice as effective; and there were even some that could supplement a person’s Spirit Root potential, allowing even ordinary humans to cultivate.

The ingredients for crafting these elixirs were various rare treasures of heaven and earth. As a master of the Alchemy Dao, Magic Scholar had left numerous pill recipes in the bamboo slips, often listing ingredients like a sixty-year-old certain herb, a three-hundred-year-old certain flower. The more powerful the elixir, the older the required Spirit Herbs and Spirit Flowers needed to be. Whenever millennia-old medicinal materials appeared, they usually caused a storm of blood and violence.

But with this mysterious green liquid, the situation was very different. A hundred-year-old herb hard to find? What about one or two years, or even one or two months? With the ripening effects of this liquid, he could mass-produce the ingredients needed for alchemy, consuming various cultivation-enhancing Spiritual Medicines like snacks. Just fantasizing about that scenario made Lancelot feel a surge of excitement.

Yet this meant nothing to him, for a simple reason: the various ingredients listed in those recipes simply did not exist in this universe. Even if there were substitutes, identifying and adjusting (or even creating) the recipes for them would be an enormous task, certainly not something a minor cultivator at the Foundation Establishment level could handle.

That meant, for now, this mysterious green liquid could only serve as a particularly magical fertilizer, used to create some greenery in the Abyss.

Come to think of it, that wasn’t bad at all.

Lancelot ran back again, seizing the Elf Priest’s second bucket of bath water as well. This time he added just under half a drop of the green liquid, and the ripening duration was about half a year. Then, he scattered more flower seeds and watered the garden with the prepared ‘potion,’ enabling the seeds to quickly take root and sprout.

Things turned out just as he had expected. The flowers were perfectly in bloom, the scene bursting with colors and vibrant life, in stark contrast to the desolate ruin they had encountered upon their return.

The only problem was, Lancelot hadn’t planned while sowing the seeds. Now, flowers of all colors were mixed together, making it look quite messy.

“Alamir!” Lancelot called back towards the house, “Are you done with your bath? If so, come out for a moment!”

“I haven’t even started.” The Elf’s voice came from the doorway, “What do you want me to do… Wow, what is this?”

Lancelot turned around to see Alamir’s jaw nearly dropping to the ground in surprise.

“What’s going on? What’s going on?” Bruto, who also loved a commotion, followed suit and ran out, “Elf, why are you yelling? By Moradin’s beard, how did the garden turn out like this? What happened to those highly practical thorns?”

“I cleared them all out.” Lancelot glanced at the Dwarf, “You wouldn’t prefer those Razor Vines, would you?”

“At least they were great for burglar-proofing.” Bruto defended, “And now, what can all these fancy things do?”

“They are there to be seen, of course.” Lancelot spread his hands, “If we really need to guard against thieves, having me here is enough. Those Razor Vines wouldn’t be much help…”

“Lancelot, how did you do it?” Alamir finally regained his ability to speak, though excitement was still unmistakable in his voice, “This is simply… a miracle!”

“Uh, well…” Lancelot touched his nose, “It’s my newly awakened ability that allows plants to grow rapidly. But I think it’s a bit too chaotic, and it needs some rearranging. Could you help me with it?”

“You’ve found the right person!” Alamir laughed heartily, rolling up his sleeves immediately, “In this regard, who is more professional than a Shuni priest? Let’s start by moving these brightly colored flowers further away, and take care not to break their roots while transplanting…”

As the elf explained, he worked, and Lancelot assisted. The Dwarf stood watching for a while, eventually deciding not to join in the task.

“I prefer work that involves swinging a hammer.”

This was his excuse for opting out.

The two were busy from noon until evening, during which Lancelot mixed up another barrel of ‘Ripening Liquid,’ planting a batch of new plants as the elf requested (his praise for this ability was almost sycophantic). Alamir fully expressed his artistic talents and the final outcome was a garden so beautiful it seemed to transcend reality, looking from the outside like the dwelling of a fairy of flowers.

“Oh, my goodness.” Looking at the garden in front of him, the elf’s eyes welled up with tears of excitement, “Thank you, Lancelot, this is really wonderful… I want to pray to the Goddess, to set up a mirror by the window so She can see this beautiful garden. She will definitely be proud… Alright, I suppose you won’t be stealing my bathwater anymore, will you?”

“Not anymore, not anymore.” Lancelot shook his head, smiling, “You’ve worked hard, go on then.”

After the elf had left, Lancelot stayed in the yard a bit longer, admiring the fruits of his afternoon labor, feeling pleased and peaceful. It was strange, when had he started to like nature so much? Was it because of his main cultivation technique, Qingyuan Sword Technique, or the influence of the elf’s blessing?

When he returned to the house, the Dwarf was about to leave.

“I’m off to see my old dad, won’t be back tonight,” Bruto waved to Lancelot, “Goodbye, have a pleasant night.”

“Oh… you too,” Lancelot nodded, waving back at the Dwarf. Although Twin Bridges Town had many demons, it was still safe for a warrior like Bruto; of course, thefts were always hard to avoid, but the Dwarf could take care of himself.

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“I won’t be back tonight either,” Alamir’s voice floated down from the staircase leading to the second floor, “I have a feeling that there’s a soul still wandering in the darkness in the tavern, waiting for my salvation…”

“And me,” Scholar followed behind the elf, “I’ve received a message. An envoy from the Cult has traveled to Twin Bridges Town. I need to deliver my paper to him, then do some academic exchanges…”

“Uh, okay, be safe…” Lancelot watched as his friends left one by one, scratching his head slightly. What was going on, why had they all left? No, there was still little Isha, the vampire girl was still sleeping in his Dimensional Bag at this moment.

Just then, his Spirit Perception suddenly sensed the familiar fluctuations of Spatial Magic, and a graceful figure gradually became clear in the room.

Little Isha, you might as well sleep a little longer…