Low-Fantasy Occultist

There were days when Rhea hated what had become of her. She remembered a life of privilege, where her every desire was met by servants whose only job was to anticipate them.

It was certain she would follow the same path as her family members. Her grandmother taught her the basics and promised to share the secrets of enchanting someday, while her older brother brought home fascinating new trinkets that motivated her to keep learning.

Thinking back on it now, the cracks had already been visible then. House Elpen had already faced backlash after her grandfather’s overreach with Duke Mordhau, which had closed many doors for them.

But she had been too captivated by the wealth and privilege. Who cared if her parents were rarely around, always busy entertaining some distant noble for their house’s service instead of relying on the local market? Who cared if her brother’s shoulders bore the weight of countless expectations to somehow pull them out of the hole they had dug themselves into? If her grandmother looked at her with pity, as if she already knew what was to come?

Then, the Ultimers had formed an alliance with Mordhau, and the fragile structure her charmed life depended on collapsed. The last few businesses that had taken their artifacts were forced to refuse them, fearing for their own families. Toneburg as a whole became hostile, and it didn’t take long before accusations were fabricated, leading to the downfall of the once-proud House of Elpen.

“What would grandmama say, seeing me like this?” Rhea sighed, looking down at the vat of Endurance Nectar she’d just prepared, sleeves rolled up, shoes dirty from the mud she had to wade through to get the Ground Wasp honey.

She looked nothing like the girl who had once been the pride of the Elpens.

Probably that I should get to work and stop wasting time complaining and daydreaming. She was not the type to tolerate loafing, and she has only become more hardened since we lost everything.

The life of an Alchemist was quite similar to that of an artificer. Both were highly sought after at advanced levels, and Rhea was dedicated to advancing her skills. She knew she would need it when the time came and her destiny caught up with her.

But she wasn’t there yet, so she was stuck making large amounts of mid-level potions to keep up with the constant demand overtaking Floria.

Pouring the cooled concoction into individual vials, Rhea let a small amount of mana seep from her fingers to seal them shut through a vacuum, a method she recently figured out after Ogden had yelled at her for selling unsealed potions.

He has almost completely withdrawn from the public eye since the influx of newcomers started. Hell, he’s even set up spells so that only people who meet strict criteria can find the shop initially, which means I have to go out and sell our stuff directly to the main vendors myself.

It was quite frustrating at first, but at the very least, it gave her more freedom to handle their clients, and it meant he wouldn’t be breathing down her neck when she went out into the wild.