Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 181: A Surgeon Without Mercy
Whether Tissaia’s attitude stemmed from a desire to strengthen ties with Lannor or from trust in Margarita’s recommendation, the treatment she gave him during this “entry test” was already remarkably generous.
The very idea of connecting a witcher famed for martial prowess with the deepest reaches of sorcerous alchemical research bordered on absurdity.
Yet Tissaia not only brought him into the laboratory, she also handed over a valuable potion formula regardless of the outcome.
Even if Lannor failed the test, that formula alone would have made the trip worthwhile.
As for Lannor himself, he approached the examination with complete confidence.
The formula Tissaia provided stretched across an entire page, a clear demonstration of the potion’s complexity and the difficulty of its manufacture.
Yet after a single glance, he stopped looking altogether and walked straight out of the Crystal Cultivation Laboratory toward a neighboring alchemy classroom.
“The ingredients have already been prepared?” he asked.
“They have. I instructed several apprentices to deliver them before we arrived.”
Tissaia was mildly surprised by his memory, but eidetic recall was hardly unheard of among sorcerers, so she remained composed.
Truthfully, she hoped he would pass.
His admission would bind him more tightly to Aretuza.
Still, even if he could not immediately improve the formula, she hoped he could at least brew a successful batch of Stammelford’s Philtre.
Even if it took him several days.
Pulling strings only went so far. A candidate still needed some basic competence.
Once she had arranged the necessary supplies, Tissaia left to attend to her own work.
In her estimation, someone with modest alchemical talent would need roughly two days to produce a finished potion.
Two hours later, however, the former rectoress of Aretuza stood staring at a glass vial on her desk.
Within it swirled an oily liquid saturated with Chaos magic.
“Wow.”
The astonished voice belonged not to Tissaia, but to the beauty lounging across the office chaise.
“You really did it ... first attempt and already an improvement?”
Lannor ignored Margarita’s enthusiastic support and instead explained his reasoning to the person actually in charge.
“Stammelford’s Philtre was originally designed for sorcerers. Mana infusion during the brewing process is unavoidable.”
He tapped the bottle lightly.
“Since I had to periodically replenish my own mana during production, I chose that limitation as my direction for improvement.”
“The modified version produces its effects and toxicity in stages depending on dosage. A small sip grants a mild enhancement while generating toxicity so minor it can be ignored. It becomes more of a reserve potion than a battlefield potion.”
Tissaia sat behind her desk.
She did not even bother uncorking the bottle.
Instead, her eyes moved suspiciously between Margarita, Lannor, and the potion itself.
“If I hadn’t chosen this formula on a whim during our walk here, I would assume you’d used that face of yours to recruit an assistant somewhere in the academy.”
Her tone carried equal parts admiration and frustration.
“This is almost identical to the modification I developed a hundred and thirty years ago.”
Lannor clicked his tongue.
“Then I wasted my effort.”
A trace of disappointment flashed across his face.
“I thought you wouldn’t have explored toxicity reduction as a direction.”
Tissaia shook her head.
“I understand your frustration. Talented people hate discovering they’ve arrived second.”
She folded her hands.
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