As the saying goes, a single copper coin could bring a hero to his knees.
Look no further than the mages in the neighboring dungeon: many spent countless years selling their souls just to afford a wizard tower of their own, only to end up with barely enough gold for the foundation—to say nothing of the Iron Spellcraft knowledge Mason held in his mind.
As everyone knew, Iron Spellcraft consisted of nine major schools: Nature, Lightning, Frost, Blood, Evocation, Holy, Ender, Fire, and the most mysterious of all, Eldritch.
The first step for an Iron Spellcraft apprentice was to craft or acquire spell scrolls.
The crafting process was largely similar across all nine schools.
At a Scroll Forge, one simply combined a bottle of ink of any quality, a piece of paper, and an item imbued with the magic of the corresponding school to create a scroll.
The finished scroll then had to be transcribed into a spellbook; otherwise, it remained a single-use consumable.
This transcription step required an Inscription Table, which in the game primarily served to adjust spell slot placements.
Scrolls crafted with higher-quality ink packed greater power, but low-grade ink couldn’t be used to craft the deep, advanced spells of any school.
Moreover, spells alone weren’t enough.
Casting high-tier spells consumed colossal amounts of mana, requiring mage armor sets, staves, and advanced spellbooks to assist the caster…
Mages didn’t hate bloodline sorcerers for no reason.
Currently, Mason was completely broke.
He had to shear as much wool off rich kids as possible.
“What are you mumbling about over there?
Hurry up and help me feed Filch some manure!” Ron scooped up a shovel of dragon dung fertilizer, stepping forward with Harry to sniff it under his roommates’ shocked gazes.
“Doesn’t even smell bad!
We’re letting him off way too easy!”
“You guys read the Daily Prophet, right?
Yesterday there was a posting from Madam Rosmerta in Hogsmeade: ‘Inviting veteran tasters to sample new flavored beers.'” Elaine recalled what he had read.
“Even though the reward was only thirty Galleons, it kept a line outside the pub for three straight days.
I’m saying, why don’t we do something similar?
Brave lions shouldn’t spend all day staring at the snakes’ den for food, right?”
“Thirty Galleons…” Ron’s mind drifted off after hearing the first half of the sentence, not even reacting when the shovel dropped onto his foot.
“Rosmerta…” Seamus had seen her mentioned in his mother’s subscription to *Outstanding Witches Monthly*.
“Hogsmeade?” Harry looked entirely clueless.
An Adventurers’ Guild, huh?
It sounded an awful lot like a trap, but Mason desperately needed cash.
“Sounds great.
Should we write a letter to ask Dumbledore?” The moment Mason spoke, Elaine—who had still been wondering if his phrasing was too imprecise—and the three boys in front of them all dropped their jaws in unison.
“Dumbledore?!”
“Yeah.
Aren’t you trying to find bored students to do good deeds?
But if you try to handle all the receiving, auditing, and checking of commissions by yourself, you’ll definitely be overwhelmed.
Yet making it an official club would be tough.
Rather than letting it turn into a mess, why not just ask Dumbledore directly and get the Headmaster’s opinion?”
“Does Headmaster Dumbledore really have time to read letters from us?” Harry raised his hand to ask.
“Have some faith in the Headmaster.” *Of course he will.
If all five of us sign it together and put your name right at the top, he’ll read it whether he wants to or not.*
The boys eagerly began discussing how to write the letter to explain the idea to Dumbledore.
While Professor Sprout was still busy tending to her plants, he checked his textbook and went around touching every plant in Greenhouse No.
1.
Most were plants that Muggles also harvested for medicine or food.
A small portion were species that only mutated in magic-rich environments.
Only a few Bounce Bulbs were species absent from Muggle records—after all, this was only Greenhouse No.
1.
A patch of dark grass occupying a sandpit in the corner caught Mason’s eye.
“Professor, what kind of plant is that?”
“Hmm?” Professor Sprout instinctively looked in the direction Mason was pointing.
“Oh, I forgot to dig those up.
That’s Dragon Hide Grass.”
“Dragon Hide Grass?” Mason asked curiously.
“That’s right.
As the name suggests, this wild grass usually grows in places frequented by fire dragons.” Professor Sprout walked over.
Under the curious gazes of the nearby students, she bent down and yanked hard on a clump of Dragon Hide Grass, straining as she spoke: “Its main characteristic is…
huff!
It’s extremely…
tough!”
“It’s also drought-resistant and somewhat fire-retardant, but once it actually catches fire, it burns fiercer than anything.”
The old gardener’s hand strength eventually won out.
Gripping the snapped Dragon Hide Grass, she took a few steps back to absorb the recoil, remembering to add:
“Young dragons, injured dragons, and old dragons will chew on Dragon Hide Grass when they’re starving.
These seeds got mixed into the dragon dung and shipped to Hogwarts.
I personally picked them out and threw them into the sandpit.”
Hearing this, the young wizards’ eager hands froze in midair.
Even if the grown Dragon Hide Grass had nothing to do with dragon dung anymore, they still felt a bit grossed out.
Mason took the Dragon Hide Grass from Professor Sprout.
Suddenly, a snippet of knowledge regarding refinement techniques flooded his mind from the Codex of All Magic.
Without standing on ceremony, he stashed the Dragon Hide Grass straight into his wizard robes.
The Herbology lesson concluded shortly after, though they had two more classes scheduled for the week.
Professor Sprout smiled and mentioned that the remaining two weren’t in the morning, telling Mason and Hermione they wouldn’t need to wake up so early next time.
The Slytherin students eyed Mason like hawks, but Gryffindors were always united when facing external enemies, escorting Mason all the way back to the castle.
Charms class wouldn’t start until the afternoon, giving Mason time to inspect his haul.
Sitting in the common room, he pulled out a snapped blade of Dragon Hide Grass.
At the same time, he channeled his mana to trace several shallow runes across the grass.
Not understanding the meaning of the runes didn’t stop him from copying them mechanically.
The volume of the Dragon Hide Grass quickly shrank to a quarter of its original size.
By the time Mason touched it again, its texture felt no different from a withered leaf dried for half a month.
“Fragmented Blazing Essence?” Stashing the tiny substance—which felt distinctly different from the withered leaf—into his inventory, Mason learned its name. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping dot com.
“Refining it further leads to…
Imperfect Blazing Essence…
Fragmented Flame Essence…
Flame Essence…” Mason’s liver groaned in anticipation of the grind.
“If it’s Flame Essence, is that equivalent to Blaze Powder?”
Excellent.
He had secured the entry ticket to the Fire School.
Right, Mason hadn’t opened Elaine’s extra gift yet.
Inside the pouch was a broken claw from some large creature strung on a cord, looking like an amulet.
Mason couldn’t identify the origin of the claw, so he put it into his inventory for identification.
“Hippogriff Claw Amulet?” Mason was taken aback.
“Is there really a crossover with *A Song of Ice and Fire*?”
“No, wait.
Hippogriffs are famous mythical beasts, and they seem to appear in the original Harry Potter series too…
What were they called again?
Ah, right, Hippogriffs.”
The effect of the Hippogriff Claw Amulet provided slight fall protection and wind element affinity.
Its value was somewhat lower in Britain, but across the Channel, it would be an absolute hot-ticket item.
*I knew rich kids were the cheat code in this version.*
The five boys spent a considerable amount of time eating lunch, mostly due to Ron and Harry.
Ron, the big eater, devoured roughly two days’ worth of food by Mason’s standards.
Harry had served himself too much, but he didn’t want to waste it—the poor kid had gone hungry plenty of times at his aunt and uncle’s house.
Miss Beaver sat a short distance away, looking lonely and downcast.
Mason walked over to ask, but Hermione merely said she was fine.
Time flew by.
With the help of his roommates, Harry painfully waddled his stuffed belly toward the Charms classroom.
He was never going to eat that much again!
“Seamus, have you tried casting spells before?” Mason pulled Seamus aside, as if remembering something.
“Nope!
My mom said I wasn’t allowed to touch my wand before school started, so I’ve been looking forward to today’s Charms class all week.”
*Hiss—* Decided.
He was going to sit with Miss Beaver.
Under the traitor-condemning glares of his four roommates, Mason took the seat next to Hermione.
“I am your Charms professor, Filius Flitwick.
To keep it short, today’s spell is the Levitating Charm: *Wingardium Leviosa*.”
*My Codex of All Magic is vibrating.
There must be an unlockable spell nearby~*
Mason quickly locked into study mode.