Chapter 799

Chapter 799: Another Way to See Ghosts

After resting for a night, early the next morning, Jesse walked along the wooden planks up to the highest point in Booty Bay. By the time he arrived in front of the Alchemist Miserheld’s laboratory, the sky had fully brightened.

Inside the nearby house, Jesse could hear Miserheld’s noisy chattering, though another voice remained indistinct—as if the goblin were communicating through some telephone-like device.

Running late, Jesse decided not to wait. "Is Mr. Miserheld home?" he called out. The clamor gradually ceased, and after muttering final complaints, Miserheld opened the door to peer outside.

Spotting Jesse, he froze briefly before breaking into a wide grin.

"Ah! If it isn’t young Mr. Slovakia! Quite a surprise! What brings you here?"

"Shocked I’m still alive?" Jesse asked.

"Is being a mage that dangerous?" The goblin chuckled as he descended. "What’s your business? I suppose you noticed I’ve got company. But since it’s you, everything else can wait."

"How’s the potion selling?" Jesse inquired.

The goblin rubbed his hands. "Absolutely! My improved—no, *our* improved—potion hit Gadgetzan markets as the Noggenfogger-Miserheld Elixir. Damn difficult process…"

Jesse frowned. "Noggenfogger-Miserheld?"

"Hardly surprising. Noggenfogger’s influential. Considering he wanted sole naming rights, this is a win." Miserheld forced a smile. "Now he shares profits, so your cut shrank too."

"Where’s my money?" Jesse pressed.

Miserheld coughed, swallowing hard as he glanced toward his specimen-holding lab. "It’s being shipped from Kalimdor. Gold’s heavy… takes ages. And Kalimdor to here? Perilous journey! That ship might meet Naga or a talking storm—ever seen one? Witness that, and you’d believe gods exist."

"You spent it yourself?" Jesse accused.

"Ugh," the goblin sighed. "Fine. I used your share to repay that vampire Revilgaz. No excuses—you’re no fool ogre. Without paying, I’d lose this lab. Surely you wouldn’t want an alchemist evicted?"

"How much?"

"Not what you’d think—blame Noggenfogger’s meddling! Around thirty-one gold and seventy-some silver… I’ll repay in a year—no, six months! Your share plus future earnings delivered to Stormwind. Deal?"

*Thirty gold?* Far more than Jesse expected.

He knew potions wouldn’t sell like game items—Mana Potions flooded markets, but this niche elixir? Limited buyers. And Miserheld’s profit-sharing seemed dubious from the start; he’d never hoped for a copper.

Yet thirty gold beat betrayal. Jesse nodded. "If I hear nothing in Stormwind after six months, I’ll return for answers, Miserheld."

As the goblin nodded, his eyes suddenly fixed on a cliffside palm tree. He paled. "Burning Legion demons… in Booty Bay?!"

Jesse turned to see Molofeel leaning against the trunk, watching them. "She’s not Legion—just resembles one."

"Your… servant?" the goblin stammered.

"Yes."

Miserheld exhaled. "Right. Warlock-summoned demons usually lack those tattoos. Dark Portal rumors have even Booty Bay jumpy. Surely you know Legion demons differ from your demon servants."

"True. They’re typically dim-witted," Molofeel remarked from afar.

"Exactly!" Miserheld bobbed his head eagerly. "Well said, ma’am!"

"Another matter, Mr. Miserheld," Jesse interjected.

"More?" The goblin scratched his head. "Do I owe you something else?"

"About that Deadwind Pass task extracting Essence of Undeath…"

"I paid you fairly!" Miserheld cut in.

"I know," Jesse said. "Among the tools you provided were Ghost Glasses. Got any left?"

"Ghost Glasses? Certainly!" Miserheld’s tension eased as he propped his hands on his hips. "Haunted house? I’ll lend a pair—but damage costs six gold. Agreed, Mr. Slovakia?"

"Wasn’t it four gold and twenty-two silver?"

"Uh…" The goblin faltered. "Someone actually read the manual? Outdated pricing! Post-Orc War inflation hit everything. Material costs rose—so must compensation."

"Never mind that. I need multiple pairs."

"Only two exist here. I require the second pair myself." The goblin shook his head. "But needing help suggests more than ghosts."

"Correct. These ghosts will be tougher prey."

"*Hunting*?" Miserheld scratched his head. "You’ve used Ghost Glasses—they blur everything but spirits. Hunting ghosts in hazardous areas? Other threats could lurk unseen. One mercenary tracked a Darkshire ghost wearing those glasses… until a spider hiding in the shack bit through his neck. Guards later killed it—over ten feet long, dwarfing humans! See? With those glasses, a giant spider can ambush you undetected. Turned out the spider mimicked ghostly wails to lure fools like him…"

As Miserheld rambled, Jesse realized his oversight.

Demon Fall Canyon sat between Winterspring’s peaks and Ashenvale—lethal even without ghosts. Searching specters while blinded to other monsters invited disaster. Worse, with Dar’Khan and Dethmoora both seeking Ulthalesh, demons or treasure hunters might lurk there too.

"Undead Detection Potion solves that." A raspy voice spoke from the lab doorway behind the goblin. Jesse turned to see a towering female troll standing there.

Clad in deep blue robes, she gripped a basket overflowing with assorted herbs and fungi, her vacant eyes fixed on them.

Sunlight blazed against her crimson topknot, clashing violently with green skin. She resembled a withered statue sloppily painted by a child.

Though trolls often looked alike to Jesse, her distinctive coloring, hair, and tusk shape sparked recognition.

"Silvia?"