The Royal Alchemical Institute of Oakhaven didn't just smell like herbs; it smelled like money and judgment.
As the "Chaos Squad" was escorted through the towering white-marble halls, their coordinated white-and-gold armor clattered softly against the polished floors, drawing glares from NPC scholars who looked like they hadn't seen sunlight since the previous expansion. At the center of the group, Kipp was practically a vibrating tuning fork of anxiety. He was clutching his primary cauldron to his chest so tightly his knuckles were white, his eyes wide and glazed with the sheer terror of a commoner invited to the palace by mistake.
"Riley, the air here is too clean," Kipp whispered, his voice cracking. He gestured toward a floating apparatus that was distilling liquid starlight into a series of crystal vials. "My setup is... it's a mess. I use a wooden spoon I found in a crate, Riley! These people have glass that sings! They're going to laugh me out of the building. They're going to turn me into a frog and use my skin for high-grade potion filters!"
"Kipp, breathe," Sofia said, her voice like a cool breeze on a humid day. She placed a gentle, grounding hand on his shoulder, and Lumi drifted down to pulse a soothing, rhythmic blue light against his forehead. "You cleared the Hollow. Your potions are the talk of the entire city. These people aren't better than you; they're just... stiff. They need more tea and fewer monocles." She smiled, her eyes radiating a genuine warmth that seemed to physically push back the oppressive silence of the hall.
"They need a shock to the system," Aria declared, stretching her arms until her Stormweave gauntlets let out a series of sharp, aggressive cracks that echoed off the vaulted ceiling. She didn't whisper; she shouted. She looked at a group of Level 30 Master Alchemists who were whispering and pointing at the party's "pathetic" levels. "Hey! Yeah, you with the beard! It's called a 'World First' clear. You should try it sometime instead of staring at bubbles and waiting for your retirement quest to pop!"
The lead Master Alchemist's monocle nearly popped out of his eye socket. "Insolent whelps! This is the Royal Institute, the pinnacle of the craft, not some common tavern for sellswords!"
"Aria, please," Hayley sighed, though her posture remained a masterpiece of tactical readiness. She was already surreptitiously marking the locations of the guards in the rafters, noting the range of their anti-magic halberds. "We're here on a summons, not a crusade. Let's at least get the keys to the lab before you start a riot that gets us all branded as criminals."
They were led into the Forbidden Gardens, a massive glass dome that housed the most volatile flora in the kingdom. It was a jungle of impossible colors: plants that breathed in a visible purple rhythm, flowers that glowed with the intensity of lanterns, and vines that occasionally tried to snack on the passing staff.
Master Thorne, the General's right hand, stood at the entrance to a secluded laboratory plot. He looked at the Chaos Squad as if they were mud tracked in on a clean rug.
"This is your workspace," Thorne said, gesturing to a patch of soil that was a deep, unnatural violet, pulsing with a low-level magical hum. "The General expects ten bottles of the Mirage Draught by dawn. If you fail to meet the purity standard of the Crown, your 'World First' status will be officially rebranded as 'World First Fraud,' and your assets will be liquidated to cover the cost of the invitation."
He turned a sneering gaze toward Mossling, who was currently sniffing a rare, smoldering Cinder-Bloom. "And keep that... mobile vegetable... under control. That bloom is a state treasure. It is worth more than all of your lives combined."
As if on cue, the Cinder-Bloom let out a tiny, spicy puff of red pollen. Mossling's little leaf-nose twitched. Its eyes went wide.
"Oh no," Sofia whispered, reaching out to grab the spirit. "Mossling, wait—"
Mossling let out a sneeze that sounded like a small cannon firing.
A massive, shimmering cloud of hyper-active growth spores erupted from the little spirit, coating Master Thorne from head to toe in a thick, shimmering dust. For a second, there was total silence. Then, the spores reacted to the ambient mana.
Within seconds, tiny, neon-yellow daisies began sprouting rapidly out of Thorne's monocle, his ears, and the seams of his expensive silver coat. His beard, previously a well-manicured goatee, surged forward, growing three feet in a heartbeat and erupting into a cascade of vibrant, sweet-smelling lilies.
"My... my reputation!" Thorne shrieked, his voice muffled by the flowers growing over his mouth. He flailed as his sleeves turned into a tangled mess of ivy.
Aria didn't even try to hide it. She pulled out her interface, the holographic recording icon glowing bright red. "'Master Alchemist Goes Green!' This is going to get so many views on the forums. Sofia, move to the left, you're blocking the best daisy growing out of his left ear! This is gold!"
"I'll try to find a counter-agent!" Sofia said, her voice filled with pity even as she struggled not to laugh. She began rummaging through her bags for a soothing balm, the only person genuinely concerned for the man's floral predicament.
Riley leaned against the garden's obsidian wall, watching the chaos with a faint, knowing smirk. He wasn't looking at Thorne; he was looking at that violet soil. He knew that specific "glitched" nutrient patch—in three years, it would be the most contested spot in the city. Right now, it was just "odd soil" to the NPCs.
"Welcome to the big leagues, Kipp," Riley said over the sound of Thorne's flowery screaming. "Stop shaking. You've got the best soil in the world and a spirit that just humiliated a Master. Let's get to work."