Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 115 - A Meeting with Destiny
115 A Meeting with Destiny
The current state of alchemy was, in a word, stagnant.
No one was improving existing potions, nor were they creating new ones.
At best, they had managed to refine older formulas to produce slightly purer versions.
And with the Imperial Family having long since stripped the guild of its secrets, there was little of value left to lose.
’Hearing all this outdated talk again… it’s strangely nostalgic.’
William smirked as Raymond grumbled beside him.
His escort wasn’t wrong.
At this point in history, alchemists were nothing more than relics clinging to past glory.
The irony was that this perception would completely change within a matter of months.
"Don’t tell me you’re planning to hire an alchemist to develop some miraculous elixir?" Raymond asked, his tone half-joking but still wary.
"Of course not," William reassured him. "I have no intention of wasting resources on something that has no chance of success."
He meant it.
What he was looking for wasn’t some complacent, washed-up guild member, but a pioneer—someone willing to push beyond the limits of conventional knowledge.
And right now, the vast majority of alchemists were exactly as Raymond described: men clinging to old methods with no ambition to break free.
"The guild is far better equipped for alchemical research than any private workshop," William continued. "If they haven’t managed to create something new, then that just means there’s nothing left to be discovered."
"Exactly. They’ve had centuries of Imperial funding and world-class facilities, yet they’ve achieved nothing. What a waste."
"But no matter how rotten an institution is, there are always exceptions. There must be at least a few with the courage to try something new."
William had barely finished speaking when—
CRASH!
A loud commotion erupted from downstairs, followed by an angry voice.
"What kind of nonsense is that?!"
William and Raymond exchanged looks.
"…Sounds like someone’s causing trouble."
"Shall we check it out?"
"We should. If we leave it alone, this could drag on for hours."
When noble pride clashed, the results were often anything but peaceful.
Ignoring the situation would likely lead to it escalating rather than resolving itself.
In cases like this, it was best for someone of higher status to intervene before things spiraled out of control.
’I’d rather not reveal my identity, but it’s better than getting dragged into a mess later.’
With that thought, William retrieved his weapon—just in case—and made his way downstairs.
"I told you, why won’t you accept this?! Do you have any idea how much this is worth?!"
"How should I know? I’ve barely even used potions before."
"Then go ask someone else! You could sell this and cover a whole month of lodging!"
William took in the scene as he stepped into the common area.
The innkeeper was sweating nervously, struggling to handle an irate guest who was shaking a small vial in frustration.
From their exchange, it was clear the man was trying to pay for his stay with the potion—only to be refused.
"You blind fool! This potion contains moon sugar, pearl dust, and silk scales! You’ll never get your hands on such rare ingredients!"
William and Raymond locked eyes at that statement.
That wasn’t just an expensive potion—he was claiming to have made it himself.
And if that was true, there was only one profession that fit.
"…Looks like we’ve found an alchemist," Raymond murmured.
William smirked.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Though the man looked like a typical disgruntled guild reject, if he was truly an alchemist, then he had knowledge that could prove useful.
William adjusted his posture and approached the two men, his voice calm but firm.
"Enough. There’s no need to escalate this."
"And who are you to—"
The alchemist cut himself off as his gaze flicked to William’s attire.
Though not ostentatious, the quality of the fabric and the subtlety of the design spoke of wealth and status.
His attitude immediately shifted.
"…I see. And what business do you have with me?"
"You seem to be in need of money."
William gestured toward the innkeeper.
"I’ll cover your lodging costs. In return, I’d like to ask you a few questions about alchemy."
"…Hah."
The alchemist let out a forced cough, clearly reluctant to appear indebted.
But he wasn’t foolish enough to refuse.
"Very well. If you insist."
William pulled out a few gold coins and placed them in the innkeeper’s hand.
The man’s face lit up in gratitude.
"Thank you, my lord! Truly, thank you!"
"Don’t mention it. Just bring up some food to the second floor. I’ll be covering this man’s meal as well."
"Of course! Right away, sir! And about the bath—"
"Later."
Once the innkeeper had scurried off, William led the alchemist upstairs.
Now out of sight from the common area, the man exhaled sharply, adjusting his stance as if regaining his composure.
"…Ahem. So. What exactly do you wish to know?"
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William smirked.
The man’s forced nonchalance was amusing.
Clearly, he saw this as a transaction—a way to preserve his pride rather than acknowledge any debt.
’Interesting. Let’s see just who you are.’
"For starters, we haven’t introduced ourselves."
William extended his hand.
"We should at least know each other’s names."
"…Fair enough."
The man hesitated, then nodded.
"My name is Heide."
Then, with a slight flourish, he added—
"Heide Fovor."
William froze.
His smile remained in place, but his entire body tensed.
Because that name—
It was the only alchemist’s name he had ever remembered from his previous life.
’The creator of Nectar… Heide Fovor.’
A legend.
A name that would soon be spoken with reverence.
And here he was, standing right in front of him.
Very little was known about the alchemist Heide.
The general public only had vague details—his birthplace, his approximate age, and a brief description of his appearance.
For the man who developed Nectar, such a severe lack of information was almost unnatural.
Countless people had attempted to investigate his background, only to come up empty-handed.
The reason was simple.
’Aside from creating Nectar, he accomplished nothing of significance.’
A minor noble from a fallen house, who stumbled into alchemy by chance.
He spent years under Imperial funding, failing experiment after experiment, until—through sheer luck—he created the legendary elixir.
That single discovery catapulted him into the heights of fame…
Only for him to die mysteriously not long afterward.
There were suspicions surrounding his death, but aside from that, his life was utterly ordinary.
’So far, he seems exactly as history remembers him…’
