Midgard was right. A guess was still only a guess. No matter how much she trusted Leonard, she could not treat something even Leonard himself was unsure of as the truth.
"It never hurts to be careful. Let's prepare an ambush first," Leonard said.
"But an ambush might not work," Midgard said with a frown.
As long as they had Apparition, they could simply Apparate in, take Damocles, and leave calmly, bringing all the research materials and seeds with them.
That really was troublesome.
Leonard thought for a moment, then suddenly had an idea.
"I think I know what to do," Leonard said with a smile.
There was a certain plant Leonard had, one he had forgotten about for a long time. It was time to bring it out and put it to use.
He had once glanced at the results of enhancing that plant, but because the botanical garden was not suitable for growing it, he had left it alone.
Now, however, it was exactly the right time to use it.
As night approached, Damocles stared out the window with a gloomy expression.
He had noticed that more than a dozen Werewolf wizards had suddenly appeared around the potions lab.
Although those Werewolf wizards were trying their best to hide themselves, their clumsy skills were laughable.
As expected, letting that person see his notebook had been a mistake.
But circumstances had forced his hand. Damocles was certain that if he had refused to hand over the notebook, that madwoman Greyback would have torn him apart on the spot.
Werewolves...
Damn Werewolves!
Damocles did sympathize with Werewolves, but only with the ones who lived miserable lives and could not find work. He did not sympathize with Werewolves who were living better than he was while also taking away his chance at fame.
How could a handful of Galleons possibly reflect the value of his formula? He was a potions master destined to win the Order of Merlin!
But once tonight was over, everything would get better.
As long as he escaped the control of the Werewolf wizards, as long as... as long as he had this!
He secretly pulled a crystal vial from inside his robes. Inside it, more than a dozen seeds were soaking in potion.
This was his chance to claim the Order of Merlin. With these seeds, all he had to do was grow that kind of Aconite Fruit, and he would be able to brew the perfect Wolfsbane Potion!
Damocles had already confirmed it. The medicinal properties of that special Aconite Fruit seemed to have broken through to an extremely unusual stage. From its properties alone, he had already deduced an entirely new formula.
Although it had not yet undergone any clinical testing, Damocles was extremely confident. As long as a Werewolf drank it, it would definitely lift the Werewolf curse!
The moment he finished writing that formula, however, he destroyed it.
Because the core of that potion formula had come from the Werewolves themselves, namely that special Aconite Fruit...
The Werewolves definitely had a true Herbology master among them. Otherwise, they could never have cultivated such a special Aconite Fruit.
But that also meant that if the Werewolves obtained the brewing formula, he would become completely useless. Not only would he lose the patent for the perfect Wolfsbane Potion, he might even lose this stable job in the future.
Since that was the case, he might as well plan an escape route for himself as early as possible.
And just then, Raven had approached him. He had no idea how they knew his research had made a breakthrough, but now that he had a chance to escape, he would never let it slip away.
He glanced at the Werewolf apprentices, who seemed not to have noticed the increased number of guards around them, then quietly moved to his workbench. From his potion pouch, he took out a bottle filled with a colorless transparent liquid and dripped it into the charcoal stove.
The liquid evaporated instantly, releasing a colorless, odorless mist. The moment Damocles came into contact with it, he felt his limbs go weak and his whole body turn limp.
He hurriedly covered his mouth and nose, backed away several steps, and shoved a sugar cube containing a restorative potion into his mouth. The drowsiness was immediately driven away.
The other Werewolf apprentices did not have that luxury. Before long, they yawned and drifted off into a groggy sleep.
Seeing that, Damocles let out a sigh of relief and began packing up.
He took all the research materials he could carry. Anything he could not take with him, he destroyed on the spot.
It was underhanded, but Damocles absolutely would not allow the Werewolves to steal his achievements.
Although he had not yet used that Aconite Fruit, the follow-up experiments would certainly require a great deal more. What he had now was nowhere near enough.
He needed to grow a fresh batch of Aconite Fruit before he could make sure his research on the new formula would proceed without interference.
And before he fully completed the perfect Wolfsbane Potion, he absolutely could not allow the Werewolves to infer the formula from even the slightest clue.
They had a Herbology master. They had the one who cultivated the Aconite Fruit. If he did not destroy the experimental data, those Werewolves might even end up developing the perfect Wolfsbane Potion before he did.
The possibility was small, but Damocles could not tolerate even the existence of that possibility.
So the experimental data had to be destroyed.
In the flames, the precious research materials turned to ash. In the end, Damocles even threw his own notebook into the brazier.
At the sight of that, Damocles finally relaxed and clutched the seeds in his robes even tighter.
As long as he still had those seeds, and as long as he still had his own mind, he would definitely succeed!
Once he had finished cleaning everything up, Damocles reached into his robes again.
This time, he pulled out a black feather.
He burned the feather, and after a short while the space in front of him rippled. A man in black robes wearing a beaked bird mask appeared before him.
A crow stood on the man's shoulder, its crimson eyes fixed on Damocles as if evaluating him.
"Mr. Belby, it seems you've made up your mind." The black-robed man sniffed the burnt smell in the air and gave a faint laugh that was hard to read. "You're even more cautious than I expected."
His voice was clear and male, with a trace of laziness in it.
"Cut the nonsense. Get me out of here," Damocles said. "This place is already surrounded by Werewolf wizards. You have to take me out of here first. Only then will I work for you."
"No, no, no, Mr. Belby. Let me correct you. You are not working for us. You are joining us and becoming one of us. In essence, you are working for yourself," the black-robed man said.
"Don't give me that noble-sounding rubbish. What you mean is unpaid labor with no wages, isn't it?" Damocles sneered. "I don't care about any of that. All I want is the fame that comes with the perfect Wolfsbane Potion. It will be the foundation of my life, the bargaining chip that lets my name go down in history."
"That's fine. We of Raven do not care about reputation. If that title is what you want, you can have it. In any case, we will give you everything you need. All you need to do is hand over the perfect Wolfsbane Potion."
As he spoke, the black-robed man beckoned.
"Come. I'll take you away."
"Wait. Can't you kill that woman Greyback first?" Damocles asked, his expression twisted.
"Mr. Belby, we already lost people trying to kill her before. I'm afraid that until we truly understand her methods, we will not make another move," the black-robed man said, shaking his head.