Walking through the marketplace, Mistblade clutched her tail protectively, wary of passing shoppers trying to sneak in a pat.
"Shouldn't you go get certified?" she asked.
Rita groaned. "But where? Is there even a place to get certified in this town? Does it cost money?"
Fat Goose chimed in, "I heard only big cities offer that. My… my father's an alchemist. The nearest Alchemy Guild is in Asaein. Three days by carriage. About half a month on foot."
Rita and Mistblade turned to him in unison. "Your father is an alchemist?!"
Back when Rita started brewing potions, both Mistblade and Fat Goose had asked if she could teach them.
Rita's head was full of knowledge and formulas—endless formulas.
A person holding a treasure trove doesn't mind being generous.
But not yet.
She needed to keep her uniqueness in this party. So she said no.
Still, neither Mistblade nor Fat Goose had given up.
