?Barclay was a Rank 2 Magus, a middle-aged man in his thirties. Being able to become a Grade 2 Herbalist at such a young age naturally birthed an arrogant nature in him.
For the three major professions, the Grade corresponded with the Rank.
Meaning, a Grade 1 Herbalist could concoct potions useful for a Rank 1 Magus. Similarly, a Grade 2 Herbalist could concoct potions useful for a Rank 2 Magus and below.
The reason why professions were divided into Grades was that each grade had a mana requirement corresponding to a Magus's Rank.
A Grade 1 Herbalist couldn't concoct the same potion that a Grade 2 Herbalist could because the former wouldn't have that much mana available to begin with.
However, mana wasn't the only requirement for becoming a Grade 1 Herbalist, let alone a Grade 2.
A Magus needed to have vast medicinal knowledge and decades of practical experience to even become a Grade 1 Herbalist.
The fact that Barclay could become a Grade 2 Herbalist in his thirties meant that he was a true prodigy in the field of Herbalism.
That is why he thought Adam was joking with them when he said he wanted to become a guild member. Moreover, Barclay also didn't care about the youth's status as a student of Saratoga Castle.
So what if the Saratoga Castle was one of the Four Pillars of the Empire?
The Herbalist's Guild was an independent organization that had its branches spread throughout the world!
Why should he be bothered about an organization only limited to the scope of the Acadian Empire?
Adam glanced at Barclay with displeasure. "Is this how the Guild treats every Herbalist that comes to its doorsteps?"
"Herbalist? You?" Barclay scoffed. "A hairless brat like you wanting to become a member of this guild is the funniest thing I've heard this week."
He paused for a moment before arrogantly claiming, "You think you're me? You think you could become a Grade I Herbalist in your twenties—"
Adam viciously interrupted him, "Grade I Herbalist?"
He raised his chin and spoke with even more arrogance, "I had become a Grade I Herbalist in my teenage. Now, I'm only 22, yet I'm already a Grade 2 Herbalist. How dare trash like you compare yourself to me?"
The next moment, his eyes narrowed and he looked straight into Barclay's eyes. His lips parted and he coldly muttered, "Know your place."
When it came to interacting with others—strangers, to be more precise—Adam thought himself to be a mirror. If he was spoken to politely, he would also speak politely.
But if someone was rude and disrespectful to him, he wouldn't be nice about it either.
Why should he?
He was no saint.
When Barclay gazed at Adam's abyss-like eyes, his body involuntarily shuddered. And when the youth spoke those words, his back was instantly drenched in cold sweat.
He couldn't help but subconsciously retreat a step.
Damn it! Realizing what he had just done, that too in front of so many people, Barclay couldn't help but curse inwardly.
He was a genius of the Herbalist's Guild, a Magus respected and admired by many. Yet, he had displayed such a show of weakness in front of this raven-haired youth.
Barclay couldn't have it. This interaction with Adam had severely wounded his pride.
Thus, he pointed his finger at Adam and roared angrily, "You dare lie blatantly to my face?! Who the hell do you think you are? Do you think just any random cat or dog could become a Herbalist?"
Realizing that all the people gathered were witnessing this scene take place, Barclay's lips curled up ever so slightly. He knew that the youth was lying, so he decided to hammer down on his actions.
"This is a great disrespect not only to us, Herbalists, but also to this prestigious guild," he said. "I, Barclay Weiss, hereby ban you from ever stepping foot inside this—"
Once again Adam cut him off, "I see you've been handling Ironmoon Mint leaves." He glanced at Barclays's skin under his nails and added, "Judging by the subtle discoloration, it should be freshly crushed."
Hearing his words, Barclay's eyes widened in sheer disbelief. "You! How did you—"
But Adam didn't give him the chance to speak. He leisurely stepped forward with his hands clasped behind his back, walking around the reception desk and toward the dumbfounded middle-aged Herbalist.
"Although mint leaves a barely noticeable mark, the Ironmoon Mint leaves are special. They emit a special scent when being crushed," Adam began.
"But that's not all. I also detect a hint of Higgins Root and wild lavender. That combination is quite conspicuous."
Barclay remained frozen on his spot. His jaws widened with every word Adam spoke. He glanced at Adam, who was walking around him like he was some sort of monster.
The fact that he could identify so many magical herbs and ingredients with just a simple look, clearly indicated that he was a remarkable Herbalist.
The skill Adam had just displayed to everyone present was something that only came with time and practice.
Any detail, no matter how small, could reveal a great deal to a Herbalist about what someone was working on. They would be able to read traces of herbs and ingredients like reading a book.
"Every herb has its own signature, a unique aroma that blends in specific ways when combined," Adam stroked his chin and spoke like a wisened old Magus teaching his apprentice.
Clearly, he was taunting Barclay.
"Ironmoon Mint, Higgins Root, and wild lavender are commonly used together to concoct potions that soothe and refresh the spirit sea."
Then, Adam leaned forward ever so lightly and took a sniff. "Your robes carry the faint scent of Winterweed and sunflower petals." He paused for a moment and mocked, "There's also the stench of an amphibian; a toad, perhaps."
He walked back around the reception's desk and stood where he was earlier standing. By now, all the people gathered here were looking at him with utter shock.
Even Ada, who had been silent all this while, was looking at Adam with bright eyes.
"Winterweed and sunflower petals are often added in the final stage of concocting a potion that soothes the spirit sea," said Adam with confidence.
The following moment, his lips curled up into an arrogant smirk.
"Conclusion: a Potion of Spirit Pacifier brewed by a frog in a well."
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