Chapter 124: Yellow Topaz

"How do you know all this?" Lisper asked curiously. This guy always seemed to have knowledge of the most bizarre things.

"It's in the public library at the academy," Borne replied nonchalantly, wearing the look of disdain a top student holds for a slacker.

The Guild President was speechless. The academy's public library was massive, housing a jumble of useful and useless information. But who in their right mind would actually read that stuff? They barely had enough time to master their own magical texts, let alone waste time on such trivia. Lower-year students were struggling to keep up with basic magic, and upper-year students were even busier—either earning credits or on their way to do so. Once they earned enough, they would rush to the spellcasting district of the Mage Tower to trade for new spells. By the time they reached intermediate levels, a single spell could take up half a bookshelf. Repeating this cycle was the standard way of life for a student during their five years at Gills Academy.

*Borne is such a freak,* the President thought, grumbling internally. *It's one thing to be this good at magic, but to be this well-read too?*

"Alright, Borne, continue with the information about the snake-men," Hussein interjected. He didn't care where the information came from; he just needed as much intelligence as he could get.

"Very well," Borne said, his expression turning serious. "Half-blood snake-men are ranked below the snakelike medusae and are more serpentine than their pure-blooded kin. They serve as officers and elite guards..."

"...The 'defilers' hold a lower status than the pure-blooded snake-men, while the 'hatchling guards' are at the very bottom. Their name reflects their role in snake-man society: they guard the nurseries where the females lay their eggs. They also look after the children to ensure they don't wander off accidentally..."

Borne rambled on with a wealth of information. Not only was the President stunned, but Hussein and the Count were also caught off guard. It was so detailed that one might wonder if Borne had planted a spy among the snake-men. Hussein, however, felt a spark of hope. He had been fretting about not finding an expert on dealing with snake-men, and here was one right in front of him.

"Heh, Borne, how about giving your uncle a hand? I promise I won't treat you unfairly afterward," Hussein said, scooting closer to cozy up to him.

"Ugh, please!" Borne recoiled in disgust. The man had no shame, calling himself 'uncle' and trying to claim a generation above the President, who looked like his face was turning green from the sheer audacity of it.

"There is a way, but..." Borne raised an eyebrow. "I want to borrow the 'military's' Nether Scroll."

Hussein paused. *The kid's a sharp one,* he thought, *learning the art of extortion quite quickly.* He glanced at the Count and muttered, "Like father, like son," or in this case, like grandfather, like grandson.

The Count chuckled. It was a familiar sight; he remembered doing the exact same thing back in his day. But Borne was a classic case of having his eyes on the next prize before he’d even warmed up the current one. The Nether Scroll held by the military was the *Higher Creation Volume*. Most of the Count’s exceptional alchemy was either inherited or derived from this very text. Even the "Micro-Eye" (microscope) in the laboratory was built using techniques from it. Magical constructs, golems, and even peculiar alchemical items were all evolved from this volume. Borne believed that if he could master this scroll, his alchemical skills would reach a new level.

"Wanting to see the military's Nether Scroll? No problem!" Hussein leaned back, crossed his legs, and looked at Borne with a playful smirk. "The military's Nether Scrolls are open for borrowing, but you need enough military merit. This kind of clever trickery alone isn't enough."

"Military merit? Does coming up with a plan to help the military reduce losses not count as military merit?" Borne asked.

Hussein shook his head. "No! I mean real, hard-earned military merit. You have to go to the front lines and kill a certain number of enemies!"

Borne hesitated and looked at the Count, who gave a slight nod.

"Fine..." Since his grandfather had agreed, he knew there was no arguing.

"If you want to deal with the snake-men, the best way is to drive them out of the sewers, especially now in winter when their combat effectiveness is at its lowest." Borne placed a stone on the table.

"Realgar?"

"Exactly. Realgar isn't expensive. Find some that's tinged with a pale orange-red, refine it into a yellow powder, mix it with water, and pour it into the sewers." (Realgar, also known as arsenic sulfide, is the main component of traditional repellent; snakes aren't afraid of the substance itself, but of its pungent, irritating odor.)

"It's that simple?"

"Yes, that simple! Although the air doesn't circulate well in the sewers, you'll need a large amount of realgar powder to force them out quickly," Borne added coolly. "But this will only flush them out; it won't do much damage to them. And since there are corrupted ones among the snake-men with significant power, it would be best to have some holy water on hand as well."

"Good!" Hussein jumped up and left immediately. There was no more use for Borne.

Hussein reported the plan quickly. When the state machine began to move, the results were terrifying. Borne's method was verified almost immediately. Several spellcasters' snake-familiars became the unfortunate test subjects, dragged out to prove the concept. The military moved fast, mobilizing two legions to guard Seven-ton to ensure the snake-men were completely eradicated.

They sealed every sewer entrance immediately, and even academy students were conscripted to refine the 'realgar' powder. Afterward, everyone was required to drink a mouthful and sprinkle some on their bodies. Even Borne was forced to drink a mouthful, personally delivered by Hussein.

It tasted absolutely vile. Borne couldn't help but regret his words; he had truly shot himself in the foot. This wasn't even realgar wine, just realgar water. If he remembered correctly, realgar contained potent carcinogens and could damage the liver even in small doses, not to mention its corrosive properties. As a professional, Borne could handle the side effects, but for ordinary people, it was another story. Fortunately, he didn't hear of anyone dying on the spot, and even the children were running around just fine, so it seemed the risk was manageable.

He didn't know which genius came up with the idea of forcing everyone to drink the stuff, but the results were instantaneous. From the King down to the lowliest slaves, everyone partook. Any snake-men in disguise were exposed immediately; they didn't even need to drink it—just a splash on their skin was enough to make them reveal their true forms.

Months of hidden tension erupted into a slaughter across the streets of Seven-ton once more.