Capítulo 39: Chapter 39
After deciding on a plan, Ian immediately sprang into action.
Ian noticed that the mercenaries were suspiciously fond of his "potions."
In this era, both medicine and magic potions were extremely precious, so it was common for them to be treated as valuable as precious metals.
Again, this medieval era was like a post-apocalyptic period.
Not looting a pharmacy during a post-apocalyptic era?
That's like screaming you don't want to live long.
Medicines are useful and valuable. Hence, people are crazy about them...!
"Lucy, please ask the count to gather some salt."
"Salt?"
Lucy was puzzled by Ian's request but went along with it.
Ian was a wizard, after all.
She thought he must have his reasons.
With the count's help, Lucy managed to collect a significant amount of salt.
Salt was an expensive food item but essential, so many people carried it around.
Once they had enough salt, Ian brought over a large pot, put his spoon in, and started boiling it vigorously.
The mercenaries quickly showed interest in the wizard's actions.
"Is the wizard making a magic potion again?"
"Even if he is, he's just gonna use it himself."
Until now, the mercenaries believed Ian had been hogging the magic potions for himself.
There were complaints but no grievances, as no mercenary was crazy enough to get angry about someone using their own concoction.
As a crowd gathered, Ian recited Maronius' language, putting on a convincing performance.
"[Fire! Blaze up!]"
Boom!
Suddenly, the fire under the pot surged, causing the mercenaries to scream half out of their minds.
"Wow!"
"Real magic!"
The mercenaries knew Ian could summon crows and make magic potions, but they had no idea he could also control flames.
Watching Ian skillfully brew the magic potion, the mercenaries spared no admiration.
Making medicine with magical flames!
Truly, he is a wizard!
"What's all that noise?"
"The wizard is making a magic potion now!"
"Again? Is the Lord going to sell it this time?"
Before long, around a hundred mercenaries had surrounded Ian.
It was natural for more onlookers to gather since Ian had prepared for a grand performance.
"Hmm..."
Pretending to chant a magic spell, Ian shouted loudly and clearly in Korean.
"May the waters of the East Sea and Mount Baekdu last until they dry and wear away!"
"Wow!"
"It's a wizard's magic spell!"
"I can't understand a thing!"
The mercenaries were mesmerized by Ian's magic performance.
As the attention around him peaked, Ian poured the collected salt into the pot and boiled it vigorously.
Only three things went into the pot: water, a spoon, and salt.
Contrary to the mercenaries' beliefs, no magical power emanated from the spoon; it was essentially just boiling water with salt.
'Haah.'
Ian was boiling ordinary saltwater, pretending as if he was infusing it with magical power.
So... what Ian made was a fake magic potion.
'To think I'd become a real quack.'
Back in the days when the whole world was shrouded in the darkness of ignorance, quacks, who were called "medicine peddlers," would lead bands and circuses to gather people's attention and then lie about their medicine being a rare cure-all, selling fake potions.
Innocent people who didn't know any better thought the medicine sold by these peddlers was genuinely precious and bought the fakes with good money.
People carefully stored the fake medicine they purchased...
And when a loved one fell seriously ill, they administered it confidently!
"Drink this! The medicine peddler said so! This is supposed to cure all diseases!"
People waited for the disease to be cured as the peddler promised.
But, of course, it didn't happen, and they realized too late that they had been duped...
Enraged, people chased after the medicine peddler, grabbing the scammer by the collar and shouting.
"Hey you scamming bastard! Where do you get off selling fake medicine?"
From then on, selling medicine equaled being a scammer.
'Medicine' came to be understood as something that might look plausible on the outside but is essentially trash or a shoddy item.
EX) A: "Isn't that Jungle Teemo bullsh*t?" B: "Where are you peddling your drugs, you quack bastard!"
But Ian had to sell medicine now.
If selling medicine could lift the spirits of his troops, why wouldn't he sell it?
"You there. Come forward."
"Me...? Are you talking to me?"
Ian singled out the nearest mercenary and called him over.
The mercenary, clueless, stepped forward with a mix of anticipation and fear.
"Have you been having restless nights and feeling down lately?"
"That, well..."
"Does food taste bland? And, do you keep having ominous thoughts?"
At Ian's question, the mercenary nodded in surprise and alarm.
"Yes, yes! But how did you...?"
Oberon cawed just in time.
"Caw! Caw!"
"Eeeek!"
Ian spoke nonchalantly as if it were nothing.
"Observing the movements of the heavens, it seemed like an ill omen was looming over the army, so I noticed."
"My goodness...!"
Of course, it was a lie.
Movements of the heavens?
Let the followers of Heaven's Faith research that. Ian was just spouting a plausible story that would fit the situation.
It was natural to feel bad to just march without looting.
And with a battle approaching, the fear of death would naturally make one lose their appetite.
A sort of primitive - Big Data.
Kind of like a human Chat GPT.
It's a little trick that can be understood if you know the method, but unfortunately, these mercenaries were people from a medieval fantasy world.
They wouldn't know about Chat GPT, let alone Akinator.
"Take this potion with you."
"This is...?"
"It's a [Potion of Vitality]."
"What did you say?"
"I said it's a potion that brings vitality."
Ian said with a smile.
"I made this especially for you guys, seeing as you're suffering from negative energy. Use it wisely."
"Wizard...!"
The mercenaries were moved by Ian's words.
All this time, they wondered why he was boiling a spoon for nothing...
It was all part of a grand plan to make and share a magic potion!
Truly, he was a wizard!
"Thank you! Thank you, wizard!"
The mercenaries hastily filled their leather water bags with the magic potion Ian had boiled.
Curious mercenaries approached Ian with questions.
"But what do we use this potion for...?"
"Use it when you need vitality. If you're exhausted from sweating in the heat of summer, drink it. If you have a wound that's bleeding, apply it. It will prevent the wound from festering."
"Wow!"
That the saltwater was a magic potion was a lie.
However, the 'effects' Ian mentioned were not lies.
The reason is simple; that 'Potion of Vitality' was just saltwater.
Feeling dizzy from sweating too much? - It replenishes fluids and salts.
Got a wound? - It acts as a disinfectant.
The effects might be modest, but in a medieval fantasy world with post-apocalyptic level medical technology, even saltwater could be a great standby medicine.
There's also the placebo effect of believing it must be good for the body because magic was involved.
Ian shouted loudly to the mercenaries scooping up the 'Potion of Vitality.'
"Hear me, warriors! The Count is already aware of your hardships! He understands the frustration of not being able to claim the spoils of victory but does not wish for the people of Talian to suffer!"
The mercenaries stopped what they were doing and looked at Ian.
"Therefore, he ordered the creation of this magic potion for you! Set aside your regrets for now and prepare for the upcoming battle! If we win, the generous Count will grant a great reward!"
"Wow!"
At Ian's speech, the mercenaries sent up a fervent cheer.
Although they were disappointed about the ban on looting, they had acquired a precious magic potion instead.
The morale of the Count's troops was boosted again.
"Long live the Count!"
"Long live wizard Ian!"
While the morale of the soldiers had been boosted, Ian's work was not yet finished.
He led a few mercenaries around the houses, spreading ominous rumors.
"Caw! Caw!"
"What's with that crazy crow cawing... Eek!"
Upon spotting a human with a staff and a crow on his shoulder, ordinary farmers immediately panicked.
When ordinary humans encounter a wizard, they fall into severe shock.
This fact is recorded even in ancient chronicles.
It was a magic reality shock.
Eh? A wizard?
Why, why, why?
"Wizard...?"
"Ah! This person is the disciple of wizard Eredith, Ian Eredith Raven!"
"Oh, my! I'm so ignorant, not recognizing someone famous...! I've committed a grave sin!"
In truth, the farmer was normal.
Recognizing Ian would have been the real abnormality.
How would you recognize me when I haven't had a chance to become famous?
Only a time-space wizard could recognize that.
"Wizard, shall we teach that insolent one a lesson?"
"Let it be."
"Yes!"
The mercenaries who received the magic potion became Ian's fervent followers.
They realized that, despite his odd appearance, he was actually a kind and normal person.
Ian spoke to the farmer in a grim voice.
"I've come to warn you of a disaster that will strike in the future."
"Disaster?"
"Yes. Evil energies have enveloped this land, so now barley will not ripen, and wheat will rot from the root."
"!"
The farmer was startled by Ian's warning.
For a farmer, farming is everything. They live by it and die by it.
But a prophecy that farming will fail...?
"Why is that?"
Ian looked up at the sky with a grave expression, like a seasoned wizard, and said in a serious voice.
"It's because the soul of the first Baron of Talian, unjustly deprived of his lands, is angry."
"Excuse me? The Baron is angry?"
Ian kindly explained how Graham, the usurper, was a bastard and how Lucy Talian was the rightful owner of this land, in a way that was easy to understand.
The truth is, the farmer, with his limited education, did not fully understand Ian's words.
What does a farmer know about the power struggles of nobility?
However, one thing was clear...
This year's crops could be ruined because of a wandering mercenary who stole Talian's land!
"But don't worry too much. If Lucy Talian inherits the barony and holds a memorial service for the ancestors, the first Baron's anger will also disappear."
"Ah, so..."
"A war will break out soon. If the usurper wins, abandon this land and flee."
"..."
"This is the end of my warning."
Caw! Caw!
As Oberon cawed, the farmer trembled with fear.
Whether Ian's warning was true or not, the farmer, merely a commoner, had no way of knowing.
But the seed of anxiety was firmly planted.
Ian returned to the Count's formation with a smile.
In the past few days, Ian had acted like a wizard.
He had been busy talking.
Selling fake magic potions to mercenaries, spreading propaganda among the farmers...
With no way to distinguish whether Ian's words were true or false, the people of the medieval fantasy world trusted Ian easily, to the point of absurdity.
With a wizard going all out and even using magic to lie, how could they not be deceived?
"Wizard! Did you sleep well?"
"Yes. How about you?"
"Thanks to the wizard driving away the bad energy, we slept soundly!"
The mercenaries, once fearful of Ian, had now become his followers.
"Ian! Look! The villagers have offered food!"
"Food? Who sent someone to threaten them?"
"No! They wanted to give it themselves!"
Lucy said with a bright smile.
"People are calling me the real Baron of Talian!"
"Oh. That's good for you."
"Hehe. You see? Ian! Even those fools recognize that I'm the legitimate, real Baron! So, I should at least be allowed to open my ancestors' tomb..."
"..."
Whether it was the effect of the rumors Ian spread, the people of Talian began to distrust the usurper, Graham.
They hoped for Lucy to become the Baron and for Graham to be driven away.
It was to avoid the ominous warnings of the wizard.
Thanks to Ian's talking, the Count's army maintained high morale as they marched towards Graham's stronghold.
Lucy was happy, the Count was happy, and Ian was somewhat happy too.
However, there were those who started to express their dissatisfaction with Ian's actions.
"That wizard... Isn't he getting a bit too ahead of himself?"
It was the knights of the Count who said this.
Status de energia semanal
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Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder