Reborn as the General's Useless Daughter-Chapter 144: The Alchemist Association (Part-1)
Elixir of Tranquility was simply too important to spirit warriors. Almost everyone needed it, yet because it had been lost for so long, they had no choice but to suppress their desires.
Now that Elixir of Tranquility had reappeared, even as a mere second-grade Potion, its popularity rivaled that of top-tier medicinal treasures.
Zora curved her lips slightly, keenly aware of the surrounding gazes. "Let them look."
Just then, a middle-aged man with a protruding belly approached her. His narrow eyes gleamed with the shrewdness typical of seasoned merchants, and his face wore an ingratiating smile.
"Miss Zora, I’d like to discuss a business opportunity with you. Would that be possible?" he asked politely.
Zora glanced at him, instantly discerning his intentions.
"For now, I only plan to auction three Elixirs of Tranquility to academy students," she replied calmly. "I’m not considering other business matters at the moment."
Her words were direct and unambiguous.
At present, her focus lies entirely on cultivation. Wealth held little appeal for her. Compared to gold coins, academy points were far more valuable, especially for use in the cultivation tower.
Money was merely a tool, not a goal.
The middle-aged man immediately grasped her meaning. He did not press further and merely smiled. "If Miss Zora ever has need in the future, feel free to contact me."
After speaking, he withdrew decisively. His purpose had already been achieved.
Seeing this, the other merchants understood that Zora had no intention of selling Potions outside the academy. None of them stepped forward again.
The Alchemists Association was located not far from the Mercenary Union. On ordinary days, countless mercenaries brought medicinal herbs they gathered from the mountains to sell there, especially rare and precious varieties.
The Association was renowned for its wealth. Every alchemist was akin to a moving treasury. As such, the prices offered by the Alchemists Association were always fair, making it the preferred place for selling medicinal materials in Heavenly City.
Zora lifted her gaze toward the towering building not far ahead.
Glazed tiles shimmered under the sunlight, and carved upon them was the solemn image of a cauldron. The pattern radiated dignity and grandeur, carrying an unspoken authority that mirrored the lofty status of alchemists on the Holy Mystic Continent.
Compared to the bustling Mercenary Union, the Alchemists Association was markedly quieter. A solemn, noble atmosphere permeated the area. Few people entered or exited, yet every passerby instinctively cast respectful glances toward those who did.
That alone was proof of the extraordinary standing alchemists held.
Stepping inside the association, Zora surveyed her surroundings.
At the front stood the reception counter. A long black table stretched across the hall, imposing and austere. Behind it stood a woman with sharp features and observant eyes, calmly watching everyone who entered.
The association itself was vast, yet sparsely populated, making the space feel open and echoing.
Here and there, several figures in black robes moved quietly through the hall. These robes were the exclusive attire of alchemists, symbols of honor and authority. Only those who had passed the assessment were qualified to wear them.
Anyone clad in such robes would naturally command respect wherever they went. To alchemists, this attire was more precious than gold.
However, most of those wearing the robes were middle-aged.
Becoming an alchemist required not only talent but immense time, patience, and dedication. By the time one reached a respectable rank, youth was often long gone.
Sylvandria was a rare exception, a true genius indeed. Becoming a Rank-2 alchemist at such a young age placed her among the elite, even across the entire Holy Mystic Continent.
Zora walked calmly to the front desk. Upon seeing her, the receptionist’s face immediately softened into a professional smile.
"Miss, are you here to sell medicinal materials or purchase Potions?" the woman asked politely.
Most young spirit warriors who came to the Alchemists Association did so for only these two reasons.
Zora returned a gentle smile. Her expression was serene, her voice soft yet clear.
"I’m here to participate in the alchemist assessment."
The words fell lightly, yet the receptionist froze.
Her gaze lingered on Zora, filled with disbelief, as though she suspected she had misheard.
"Miss... you wish to take the alchemist assessment?" the receptionist asked again, uncertain.
"Yes," Zora replied calmly, her tone unwavering.
Seeing her certainty, the receptionist quickly suppressed her shock and nodded. "The assessment is held on the second floor. Please pay one thousand gold coins to receive your test token, then you may proceed."
One thousand gold coins was an astronomical sum to ordinary people. But for alchemists, it was merely a threshold.
The fee existed to prevent those without sincerity or ability from wasting resources. After all, each assessment required the presence of a qualified alchemist to supervise.
Just then, another young woman stepped forward.
She appeared to be about the same age as Zora, dressed in a pale yellow gown. Her skin was fair and delicate, her features refined and attractive. Yet between her brows lingered a proud, almost haughty air.
Her chin was slightly raised, her gaze angled upward, as though the world beneath her feet hardly deserved notice.
"I’m here to take the alchemist assessment."
Her voice was crisp and decisive. Without hesitation, she placed a pouch containing a thousand gold coins onto the counter, waiting for the test token to be handed over.
"Ms. Frost."
The receptionist accepted the payment, then smoothly took out a test token and handed it to Morgana Frost, clearly familiar with her.
"Since both young ladies are here for the assessment, I’ll inform the master at once," the receptionist said with a practiced smile.
Hearing this, Morgana Frost lifted her chin slightly and turned her gaze toward Zora.
Zora’s brows knit faintly.
Morgana’s eyes carried open provocation and disdain, as though a lofty noble were inspecting a speck of dust. There was no attempt at concealment, no courtesy even in pretense. Just being looked at by her seemed, in Morgana’s mind, to be an act of generosity.
Zora had encountered arrogance before. Serestia. Scarlet. Pride, conceit, and a superior complex. She had seen them all.
But arrogance as blunt and poorly wrapped as Morgana Frost’s was a rare breed. And deeply unpleasant.
"Which master are you apprenticed to?" Morgana Frost spoke with thinly veiled contempt, her tone sharp and dismissive. There were very few young alchemists in the city, and even fewer who dared to sit for the assessment. She knew all of them.
This unfamiliar face? Clearly, some countryside apprentice had learned a little surface skill and mistaken confidence for competence.
Zora glanced at her once, indifferently, then turned her gaze forward again without replying.
People who lacked basic courtesy did not deserve her words.
Morgana Frost froze for a heartbeat.
Then anger surged.
This nobody... actually ignored her?
"Hey! I’m talking to you!"
Her voice rose, sharp and shrill, drawing attention across the hall.
"When you talk to me," Zora replied lazily, her voice light and unbothered, "do I have an obligation to answer?"
The words landed calmly, but they cut cleanly.
Several alchemists nearby frowned. The Alchemists Association was known for its quiet dignity, and Morgana Frost’s raised voice shattered the calm like a cracked bell.
Yet when they recognized her, realization flickered across their faces. No one spoke.
Morgana Frost noticed none of this. She only stared at Zora, fury burning behind her eyes.
"Do you know who I am?"
Her apricot eyes narrowed, sharp with threat.
In the entire association, aside from Sylvandria, no one of her generation dared show her disrespect. Not once.
And this woman had dismissed her like dust.
"Not interested," Zora replied flatly. "And don’t care either..."
