What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

Johnny’s conditions made Leon momentarily unable to react.

The price was not low, but it had already been adjusted to fit within what he could bear.

He did not have three million on hand, but one and a half million was entirely affordable, and after a year—once he completed the Earl’s quota—he would also be able to pay the remaining balance.

The drake would be killed by Johnny, and it was only reasonable that the drake’s corpse and the valuable items within the ruins would belong to him.

What instead seemed rather generous was that Johnny had proactively given up the parts that could be refined into Mana.

The drake’s brain and heart could only realize their greatest value in their hands, but even if Johnny had demanded that all refined Mana be handed over to him, Leon would not actually have had much objection.

For Leon, spending three million Fenni to eliminate the drake occupying the Labyrinth—and even being allowed to defer half the final payment—so that his Labyrinth management strategy could proceed smoothly, was already quite a good deal.

He had once seen in the witch’s legacy materials held by Rena that the higher the level of a Magical Beast, the greater the amount of Mana that could be refined from it, and the higher the purity generally was.

If this claim was true, then the amount of Mana that could be extracted from that drake should be quite considerable.

For him, it would truly be timely help in completing the Earl’s quota.

Yet precisely because of this, he instead felt some confusion.

Why had Johnny, who initially showed little interest in this matter, suddenly agreed—and even adjusted the conditions to accommodate his situation?

While he was still puzzled, Johnny suddenly extended his hand across the table toward him.

“Are you asking me to pay half of the remuneration right now?” Leon was caught somewhat off guard.

“I didn’t bring it with me. I’ll need to have someone deliver it—”

“It’s the map, you idiot!” Johnny said impatiently.

“Haven’t you already explored the Labyrinth? I need to know the specific situation inside to make proper arrangements! And tell me the drake’s size—otherwise how am I supposed to kill it?”

Leon hurriedly took out the mining map from his person.

Johnny did not even wait for him to agree before pushing the topic forward, as if the matter had already been settled just like that, leaving Leon somewhat unable to keep up with the pace.

He spread the map out on the table and roughly explained to Johnny the specific situation of their previous Labyrinth exploration, including the ruins connected to the mine, the hall deep within that massive space, and the drake entrenched in the hall.

“Lord of the Labyrinth.” After listening, Johnny suddenly uttered this term.

“What?” Leon asked instinctively.

“That ruin must be a temple where the Islanders worshipped Moilai. That drake is definitely the guardian of the temple—a Lord of the Labyrinth summoned by Moilai in response to her followers to protect the temple,” Johnny said with certainty.

Islanders—Leon tried hard to recall the history he had learned in this world.

Three hundred years ago, Islanders had been a heretical nation that existed along the eastern coastline of this continent.

They believed in a special sect.

In addition to the Four Gods of Origin, they also worshipped a heretical deity known as the Earth Mother Goddess.

The sect’s emblem was a pentagram, identical to the emblem commonly used by witches today.

Throughout history, the Islanders and the Noren Empire had never been on good terms.

The Empire’s Church proclaimed that the true identity of the Earth Mother Goddess worshipped by the Islanders was none other than the Primordial Witch Moilai, who hated the Four Gods and humanity, and that their faith was a blasphemy against the Four Gods of Origin.

Three hundred years ago, during a full-scale war, the Empire—at the height of its power—successfully crushed the Islanders, leading to the destruction of their nation.

Legend held that at the time, a portion of the Islander forces escorted the surviving Islander princess across the sea and established a new nation on the archipelago on the other side.

That nation was the present-day heretical country of Moirland, which openly worshipped Moilai alone.

Today, vast stretches of land along the Empire’s eastern coast—including River Valley County and South Harbor County—had once been Islander territory.

This naturally also included Arend Island.

“Then will there be anything special inside that temple?” Leon asked tentatively.

“Who knows? But being able to support a drake means the Mana within this Labyrinth should be extremely abundant,” Johnny said as he stroked his chin and pondered for a moment.

He then took out a nautical chart of the surrounding area and pointed at Arend Island.

“Tell me the landing point.”

“Here. There used to be a dock here, but it’s already damaged. There’s a mountain path that leads directly to the Labyrinth entrance,” Leon said.

“Then gather there tomorrow morning at eight. I’ll prepare the equipment and manpower, but at least someone needs to guide the way. And remember to bring the money,” Johnny arranged on the spot.

“Tomorrow already—” Leon was somewhat surprised by Johnny’s efficiency.

“Do you have any inconvenience?” Johnny snapped back impatiently.

“No. Then tomorrow,” Leon replied.

“Then it’s settled.” Johnny nodded and finally lifted his pewter flask to take a gulp.

Then, seeing Leon still sizing him up, he spread his hands with a baffled expression.

“You can leave now. I didn’t prepare to keep you for dinner.”

“All right. Then I’ll trouble you with this matter, Mr. Johnny,” Leon said as he stood up, then glanced at Bishop Beckett.

“You head down the mountain first. I have something I’d like to say to Mr. Johnny,” Bishop Beckett said.

“Alright.” Leon walked out alone, passed through the courtyard, left the villa, and went down along the mountain path.

“What do you want to say? Did Mastan ask you to pass on some message again?” Johnny glanced at Bishop Beckett.

“The Earl didn’t instruct me to pass on any message. I’m simply personally curious and would like to ask why you suddenly agreed to his request,” Bishop Beckett asked seriously.

He was genuinely curious about the reason.

After all, with Johnny, whether the Earl’s face mattered or not depended entirely on his mood.

“Is that important? Don’t you also want me to handle this? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come personally, and Mastan wouldn’t have specially had someone meet that kid,” Johnny said.

“If the Earl knew this outcome, he would certainly be surprised. I understand very well why the Earl favors him, but I don’t understand why you also appreciate him so much,” Bishop Beckett said.

“I appreciate him? That kid?” Johnny reacted as if he had heard a joke.

He took another gulp of wine, then lowered his head and stared absently at the mouth of the pewter flask, watching the liquid inside churn.

In his mind suddenly surfaced the raging waves of that day, and one passionate face after another marching toward death.

“It’s nothing more than mutual sympathy between fools—” Johnny suddenly muttered, his voice so low it sounded like he was talking to himself.

“What?” Bishop Beckett asked instinctively.

But Johnny did not continue the topic.

Instead, he said, “Help me tell Mastan this: after I finish handling this matter, I’ll stay in River Valley County for at most another two months. I miss my ship.”

Hearing this, Bishop Beckett smiled faintly.

“Rest assured, Mr. Johnny. Since you’re willing to help him settle this matter, the territory on River Valley County’s side will soon have someone take it over.”

The next day, Arend Island.

Leon stood on the dock waiting, with ten mercenaries serving as guards behind him.

At seven thirty in the morning, the river’s morning mist had already thinned considerably.

The rising sun illuminated the water’s surface, and faint silhouettes of sailing ships could be seen.

At around seven forty-five, a ship’s shadow finally emerged from the morning mist in the northwest, sailing straight toward them and drawing closer and closer to Arend Island.

It was a fairly large armed commercial cargo ship, with rows of broadside gunports arranged along both sides.

The ship was fully under sail and moving quite fast, heading straight for Arend Island from the northwest.

It looked like it had come directly in a straight line from some port in River Valley County.

As Leon watched, he suddenly felt something was off.

He sensed the wind direction and found that the wind was generally blowing westward at the moment, from the sea toward the land.

Yet the direction in which the ship’s sails were billowing was almost completely opposite to the current wind.

Was the ship specially constructed, or had someone aboard employed some special power?

While Leon was still speculating, the ship had already approached the damaged dock.

It cautiously dropped anchor at a distance, then lowered three small boats that headed toward the shore.

Leon saw Johnny himself.

He boarded the small boats with five others, and also had people lower two ballistae from the large ship with ropes, placing them onto the small boats, along with several crossbow bolts that looked like whaling harpoons, their tails linked to iron chains.

The three small boats quickly reached shore.

Johnny was the first to disembark, stepping onto the half-destroyed pier.

“Thank you for arriving as agreed, Mr. Johnny,” Leon stepped forward to greet him.

“You brought manpower to help me move things? Very good. Then hurry up and help me get the equipment up!” Johnny gestured for Leon’s men to get to work.

Leon turned his head and gave a look, signaling the mercenaries to go help.

“I only found out this morning that this island actually has a lord. Are you sure there won’t be a problem?” Johnny asked casually.

“Viscount Arend will not interfere with matters here. I will handle it properly,” Leon replied.

This time, he had specifically sent a priest to personally lead people to the other side of the island, to Viscount Arend’s territory, informing them that the Church was carrying out a highly critical investigation here and that any unauthorized personnel were strictly forbidden from approaching.

Otherwise, they would bear the consequences.

He also had his own people guarding the nearby mountain paths.

Absolutely no one else would be able to approach this Labyrinth.

“And the money?” Johnny asked again.

“Here.” Leon signaled a subordinate to step forward and open the box.

Inside were neatly stacked Church Gold Vouchers with a total face value of one and a half million.

Johnny merely glanced at it.

Without counting or verifying, he gave a look to someone beside him, who stepped forward and took the box.

“Then lead the way,” Johnny ordered Leon.

“Will you be fighting personally?” Leon sized up the fully armed Johnny.

That day, Johnny was not wearing armor, but a hard long coat coated with a layer of waterproof wax oil, clearly meant to deal with the drake’s acid mist breath.

In addition, he had a sword at his waist and a crossbow on his back.

“Otherwise? There aren’t many people in this world who can kill a Fourth-Level Magical Beast just by bringing along a small squad,” Johnny said in an utterly matter-of-fact tone.

“When you hunt that drake, I would also like to go in—” Leon asked tentatively.

“Don’t worry, there’s no need for you! Just stay in a safe area and wait for everything to be over,” Johnny cut him off before he could finish.

“No, I mean—may I go in as well? Can I observe?” Leon asked.

He was very curious about how Johnny intended to hunt that drake.

His understanding of this world’s transcendent powers was still insufficient, and such an opportunity was rare.

“Do you think this is a sightseeing trip? We’re not your bodyguards, and we won’t guarantee your safety!” Johnny frowned at Leon.

“I will take responsibility for my own safety,” Leon replied seriously.

“Suit yourself. Let’s go,” Johnny snorted.