Chapter 635

Chapter 635: Routine Preparations

The next day, Jesse arrived at The Slaughtered Lamb and spotted Jarel. He asked, "Is Ursula here?" Jarel chuckled, asking, "In a hurry?"

"Don’t joke around," Jesse lowered his voice and glanced at the customers behind him. "I’ve got important business. Has she returned?" Last time Ursula hadn’t been in the basement, and Jesse suspected she might have gone to that high-level Alchemy Room.

Jarel wiped the smile off his face. "She’s here. Came back the day before yesterday."

Jesse didn’t say more, heading straight for the hidden door.

The familiar scent of brewing potions filled the basement. Jesse crossed the hallway and reached the Alchemy Room, knocking on the wall. "Any progress on that special powerful potion of yours, Ursula?"

"Just waiting for you." Ursula wiped her forehead with a towel, turned to the cabinet, and produced a green conical flask with a smile.

She approached Jesse. "Said two weeks, didn’t I? Thought I was delaying you?"

Jesse took the flask, watching bubbles dance violently from its potent magic. He murmured, "Flask of Distilled Wisdom."

"How’d you know that?" Ursula’s expression changed. "You ruined my dramatic reveal, you brat."

"I’m a mage, Ursula," Jesse said. "Still… this surprises me."

"It’ll grant massive mana, letting you stand against Andromath briefly," Ursula explained.

In the game, this flask greatly increased mana capacity – already among the rarest concoctions.

Jesse understood mana here wasn’t just spell fuel. It meant stamina, amplified magic, sharpened thinking…

Even so, briefly matching Andromath felt insufficient. He certainly couldn’t face Deathwing with this. But if it helped at critical moments in Grim Batol… that would suffice.

"I need other supplies, Ursula. Heading out again."

Ursula sighed softly. "Always busy. Thought the mages would let you rest after Kalimdor."

"Different people sending me. Can’t refuse."

Ursula shrugged. "Pity. Wanted your help with something."

"So you hoped I’d stay just to run errands for you?"

The alchemist wiped sweat from her neck. "I’ve no desire to go out. Risked my neck at that Alchemy Room for your potion – I’m on Eastweald’s hit list."

*You’ve no idea whose list I’m on, Ursula*, Jesse thought.

"Not entirely that." Ursula smiled faintly, eyes drifting to her cauldron. "Just wish we could meet more. Few friends remain, Jesse. You’re precious to me."

"Enough sentiment. What potions do you need?"

Jesse produced a pre-written list detailing anticipated threats and required solutions.

"Fire Protection Potion tops the list."

"Fire?" Ursula frowned. "Burning Steppes?"

Jesse glanced up. "Classified, Ursula. Questions bring trouble."

"You little…" She huffed. "Just offering advice! Combat’s like healing – diagnose symptoms before prescribing treatment. Same for enemies: predict their tactics, counter with proper preparations."

"Think I don’t understand my dangers?"

Ursula flinched. "Fine. You talk, I’ll listen."

"And brew what I need," Jesse added.

"Naturally." She crossed her arms against a cabinet. "Proceed."

Fire Protection countered Red Dragons and their Wyrmkin servants. Enslaved by Orcs, these dragons obeyed orders to defend their masters – far deadlier than Orcs themselves.

Unlike Black Dragons, Red Dragons wielded pure flame. Simpler, at least – fewer Shadow Protection Potions needed.

Those remained vital against warlocks though. With only himself and two demons this time – no Greed or Vereesa to draw fire – every attack would strike him. And the succubus.

He hoped Vyletongue’s Shadow Protection charms would let Molofeel absorb enough damage to handle Dragonmaw warlocks.

Best to avoid combat entirely. Stealth. Charm. Deception. If fighting erupted deep in Grim Batol without quick resolution… the whole fortress would hunt him. Forget finding the Red Dragon Queen – escape itself would prove impossible.

"Invisibility Potion. Two flasks," Jesse stated. "Plus six top-grade Mana Potions. None of your standard brew or weak batches."

He reconsidered Healing Potions. So many Orcs… so many walking blood-bags in one fortress. Let them learn what sustaining combat through combat meant.

"That Restorative Potion still here?"

"I’ll give you a fresh one. But what requires such quality?"

"No questions."

Ursula scowled. "Worrying about you, idiot. Fine! I’ll list ingredients – many are rare. Patience, Jesse."

Jesse dropped a jingling pouch on the table. "Prioritize speed. Price no object. Keep the change."

Hearing the gold clink, Ursula swallowed. "Day after tomorrow."

"Done. See you then."

Exiting The Slaughtered Lamb, Jesse met Jalane arriving.

"Jesse?" Her eyes darted to his robe collar. "This the tear needing mending?"

Jesse touched the frayed edge. "Not urgent now. Thanks for remembering."

*An Orc Warlock active years in Azeroth wearing pristine robes? Absurd. Krasus was right – convincing disguises demand perfect details.*