Wizard: My Skills Can Infinitely Break Through

Through his Eye of Vigilance, Ian sensed a cold aura that was both familiar and strange.

’Poison Fang?’

The visitor was actually Poison Fang, which surprised Ian a little.

He’d had very little interaction with Poison Fang. On the way to the Furnace, Poison Fang had always lingered at the edges of the group, his gaze gloomy, quiet and reserved.

Aside from missions assigned by Captain Hank, he rarely spoke to anyone else.

In total, Ian had probably exchanged less than five sentences with him.

KNOCK. KNOCK KNOCK.

The rhythm was short, carrying a hint of barely perceptible tension.

A flicker in his eyes, Ian straightened his robes and opened the door.

Poison Fang stood outside the door, about half a head shorter than Ian and with a slender build.

He was wrapped in a slightly oversized, dark gray cloak, his face devoid of color.

"Poison Fang?" Ian’s tone was calm. He stepped aside to clear the way. "Come in."

Poison Fang nodded without a word and slipped inside. His movements were swift, like a passing Shadow.

He quickly scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the Alchemy Platform for a moment before he lowered his eyes.

Ian closed the door and casually activated a simple Silence Barrier, a little trick he had learned from Old Pipe.

"Have a seat." Ian gestured to the only chair in the room, then leaned against the edge of his Alchemy Platform.

"What brings you here so late?"

Poison Fang didn’t sit. He stood in the center of the room, awkwardly clenching and unclenching his fists.

After a few seconds of silence, he looked up. His voice was a bit hoarse, but he spoke quickly.

"Ian, I need your help."

Straight to the point, no pleasantries. It was consistent with his usual style.

"Oh? What kind of help?" Ian asked, his expression unreadable.

Poison Fang licked his dry lips and looked Ian straight in the eye.

"You know about the drawing just now. I was chosen."

Ian nodded and continued to listen.

Poison Fang paused, took a deep breath as if steeling himself, and said, "A Potion. I need a Potion to boost my strength.

You’re a Magic Potion Alchemist, but I know your skill level is... very high! The two Potions you refined are a cut above the others in the warehouse in terms of potency. Those of us who use them often can tell."

Ian raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected Poison Fang to be so observant. His two Potions had indeed reached the mastery stage, making their effects significantly stronger than others.

Poison Fang continued, his speech quickening, "I need a Potion that can unleash a powerful burst of strength—something that can give a temporary power spike or enhance my survivability at a critical moment."

After he finished, Poison Fang stared intently at Ian, his gray-black eyes a mixture of pleading and the distinct apprehension of a young Apprentice.

In that moment, Ian suddenly realized that beneath Poison Fang’s gloomy and mature facade, he was probably not very old.

His long-term association with curses and poisons had likely made his disposition prematurely cold and somber.

But when faced with a life-or-death crisis, the anxiety of a young man still showed through.

Ian didn’t answer right away, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the edge of the workbench.

He was quickly weighing the pros and cons.

Poison Fang’s strength and special abilities could be useful to him in the camp.

The fact that Hank had entrusted him with handling "special situations" proved that his skills with curses and poisons were indeed extraordinary.

’An ally who excels at covert methods... if he could lend a hand at a critical moment...’

There was another point. Poison Fang’s words had reminded Ian of something.

Poison Fang often went out on missions. He might be a good source for Magical Beast Essence Blood.

"A Temporary Burst Potion..." Ian mused, his gaze shifting to the Constant Temperature Box, where several enhanced Rock Bear Potions were stored.

"I do have a certain Potion on hand," he began slowly, seeing Poison Fang’s eyes light up instantly.

"It’s not just a Temporary Burst Potion. It’s a Bloodline Potion that can permanently increase one’s Physique and Power."

"Permanently?!" Poison Fang’s breath hitched, but then his expression fell.

"A Bloodline Potion... it requires a Neutralizing Potion to go with it, doesn’t it? This is the front line. I can’t buy one here."

Poison Fang clearly wasn’t completely ignorant. As a High Level Apprentice, he knew some of the basics.

Ian nodded. "I used a special method and paid a great price to refine this Potion. Its effects are much more potent than the regular version.

Without the aid of a Neutralizing Potion, the user would very likely..."

He made a gesture indicating a body swelling and mutating, the meaning of which was self-evident.

Poison Fang’s face paled, but the desire in his eyes didn’t fade.

Risk and opportunity went hand in hand. This was the norm on the path of a Wizard.

"A Neutralizing Potion..." Poison Fang muttered. Suddenly, as if he’d thought of something, he shot his head up.

"Sterling Wizard! He’s a powerful Magic Potion Alchemist. He must have a high-quality Neutralizing Potion!"

Ian’s heart stirred. If Sterling even had the powerful Heart of Magma Potion, he should have a Neutralizing Potion as well.

The only issue was that his true Talent for Magic Potion Science would be exposed, but that wasn’t a major problem.

Poison Fang gritted his teeth. "I can ask the Captain! He’s a team leader Sterling trusts. Maybe there’s a chance, even if the price is steep..."

His tone held a hint of desperation, as if he was burning his bridges. As long as he could survive the brutal mission, he was willing to give his all.

Seeing the urgency and hope in Poison Fang’s eyes, Ian suddenly felt that this outwardly cold Curse Wizard might have a completely different personality on the inside.

"You specialize in Curse Witchcraft," Ian said, changing the subject. "I’ve heard there are some Secret Techniques that can covertly gauge an opponent’s approximate strength?"

A sharp glint flashed in Poison Fang’s downcast eyes before he looked up at Ian.

"I know. Your strength... it’s formidable. Even greater than Captain Hank’s!"

He was a Curse System Wizard and did indeed possess a Secret Technique to discern an opponent’s general power level.

From Ian, he had covertly sensed a threat far greater than Captain Hank’s—a terrifying threat that could kill him!

Ian sighed inwardly. ’I can’t underestimate any High Level Apprentice. In the Wizard World, I shouldn’t be surprised by any strange Secret Technique.’

The fact that Poison Fang had come to him tonight instead of Hank already confirmed some of his suspicions.

He walked over to the Constant Temperature Box, opened it, and took out an enhanced Rock Bear Potion.

Inside the Blood Crystal-colored Potion, active, almost frantic golden threads swirled densely, like minuscule worms constantly twisting and deforming.

Even from a distance, Poison Fang could perceive the surging, rock-like bloodline Power emanating from it.

"This is the Rock Bear Potion. It has many benefits, but its greatest drawback is that its Power limit cannot break through to the level of an Official Wizard."

Ian handed the box containing the Potion to Poison Fang. "Its effects are potent. Be extremely careful."

With trembling hands, Poison Fang took the Potion as if it were a life-saving straw.

"I understand! Thank you... Ian." He said the last word with particular gravity.

"Don’t thank me yet. I want you to come back alive. As for the Potion’s cost, you can pay me later with Essence Blood—preferably the Essence Blood of a Rock Armor Demon Bear."

Ian stated his terms. Giving it away for free was out of the question.

Poison Fang nodded without hesitation. "No problem! As long as I make it back alive. And even if I don’t, Captain Hank will pay you on my behalf."

"Good." A faint smile appeared on Ian’s face. "In that case, I wish you a successful mission and a safe return."

Poison Fang carefully tucked the box into the pocket closest to his body and thanked Ian profusely once more.

Then, just as he had arrived, he silently opened the door and his figure melted into the darkness outside.

Ian closed the door. The Sound Insulation Barrier dissipated, and the smile on his face slowly faded, his eyes turning dark.

Poison Fang’s arrival and request were like a stone tossed into a calm pond, stirring his thoughts.

He didn’t feel too bad about giving away the enhanced Rock Bear Potion. As long as he could collect enough Essence Blood, he could make more and more in the future. He couldn’t just hoard them forever.

If he could use Poison Fang as a thread to unravel the network of relationships around Hank and the others, it would be a great help to his future plans.

He might even be able to use the situation to get in touch with Sterling Wizard, obtain his permission, and quickly gather resources here.

As long as he played his cards right, it was certainly possible.

He was now gradually revealing a decent Talent for Magic Potions, which gave him some standing to negotiate.

But for now, another, more pressing matter occupied his mind.

Ian’s gaze shifted toward a certain direction outside the window—the area where the clan Wizards were gathered.

"The Osborne Clan..."