It did not take long before the alchemist appeared in the room. It was a middle-aged man who seemed to be very stern. His face was emotionless, but there was a frown on his face.
"What have you called me for?" he asked the old man, there was a bit of impatience in his voice, but the old man acted as if he did not see it.
"This hero has brought a marrow-cleansing pill made from an ancient recipe without any impurities," the old man said, and the alchemist finally had a crack in his expression.
He hurried to the table, took the pill bottle, opened it, and poured it out. He sniffed the herbal scent and looked at the color before he found an instrument that was made for testing the purity of a pill.
He was entirely focused on the reaction from the instrument, and when it showed that it was indeed a pill with ninety-five percent purity, his heart began throbbing. How could anyone with their right mind bring such a precious pill to sell it at their auction house?