"Well... Is there any other medicine besides this medicine?"

"Of course, sir, I also have calendula potions for treating inflammation, energy potions for resisting drowsiness, anesthetic potions for bleeding, and antidote potions for treating food poisoning and water poisoning. They are all like the owl potions just now, based on rigorous formula and precise proportions."

The old pharmacist said, pointing at each pottery bottle with strange symbols, introducing Simon one by one.

Among them, Simon is most interested in calendula herbs.

Simon heard in his previous life that the flowers and leaves of calendula are made into ointments or essential oils, which can be used to treat skin diseases, shallow wounds or sprains.

Dosage of calendula can be used to treat internal inflammation, prevent chronic infections and plagues.

Mariglencia can be said to be one of the most widely used herbs in the Middle Ages.

"My calendula potion is different from other pharmacists. I will add a small amount of nettle to the potion. This will not only treat inflammation, but also relieve the patient's pain."

"Very good." Simon stroked his beard and looked at these precious potions and became active.

Simon knew that after the beginning of spring, the war between Earls Berg and Earls Loon was inevitable. If nothing unexpected happened, his army would be summoned and went on a war with his father.

The alcoholic bandage method brought by Simon from later generations cannot prevent wound infection and inflammation by 100%. However, with the calendula potion prepared by the pharmacist, it can at least save the lives of soldiers to a large extent.

In addition, Simon believes that the owl potion that enhances night vision and energy potion that resists sleepiness in the old pharmacist are very practical and may play an unexpected role in war.

But if I just bought a batch of potions for the beginning of spring war and wanted to replenish them after using them, I would probably have to send someone to the potion shop in Cologne to buy them.

In the long run, it is better to find a way to keep the pharmacist in the territory.

Even if someone in the territory is sick or plague in the future, at least there is a professional talent to solve the problem, rather than placing his hopes on the useless prayers of the clergy.

A pharmacist who has received professional family training, can understand Latin medical works, and can be a variety of practical herbs, is much better than the "bald" and barbers who only know how to induce vomiting, enema and bloodletting therapy.

"Where are you making these potions? I see that there are no alchemy tools on your carriage." Simon thought about it, and suddenly discovered this crucial problem.

"Sir, I usually collect various raw materials for making medicines during my journey. After I arrive at the town where there is an Alchemy Platform, I will pay some money to my colleagues and borrow Alchemy Platform for a period of time to prepare all the medicines to be sold on the next trip, and then go back and forth. Therefore, there will always be all kinds of herbal raw materials and prepared medicines on my carriage." The old pharmacist said, with a hint of helplessness that was not easy to be captured in his eyes.

"So, do you want to have your own fixed residence and alchemy platform?" Simon stared at the old pharmacist's eyes tightly. These were a pair of eyes that had been through vicissitudes and were full of fatigue.

"This..." The old pharmacist heard Simon's intention to recruit, and a glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes, but suddenly smiled with a self-deprecating smile and shook his head, "Sir, of course I think, but unfortunately reality does not allow it."

"What's the problem with you? If you don't mind, please tell me."

Simon frowned, and a bad premonition surged into his heart.

Things were indeed not as simple as he thought, but I just hoped that the price of leaving the pharmacist would not be too high.

"Of course, lord, this is not something that is hard to say. In fact, I used to run a potion shop with my father in the eternal city of Rome. Although our family has no noble blood, the potion produced has achieved remarkable results and saved the lives of many soldiers, civilians and nobles, so it is highly respected by all classes in the city of Rome."

Simon nodded slightly. From the old pharmacist's Mediterranean appearance and polite manners, it can be seen that he is indeed a person who lives and grows up in that environment.

"Our old patriarch is a knowledgeable man who was once lucky enough to work in the library of the Holy See and even saved the life of Pope Steven VII."

Speaking of this, the old pharmacist looked around and whispered to Simon in a low voice.

"It's funny. Whether it's a Pope Cardinal or a monk, if someone is sick, he will not choose vomiting therapy or bloodletting therapy, he will quietly ask the pharmacist to see a doctor behind his back."

"At least before that happened, our family was doing pretty well. Even if there were occasional medical malpractice caused by irresistible factors, it was fortunately resolved peacefully every time."

"People always have birth, old age, sickness and death. After the old patriarch passed away because of his old age, my uncle took over his position, but not long after, Pope Stefan VII died of assassination because of the aristocratic political group. Since then, our family has embarked on a steep downhill road, and bad things have simply come to the door one after another."

"The new pope is not familiar with our family, but he is closer to another family of herbalists in the city of Rome. One day, my uncle took over a noble official with a strange disease. He used all the medicines he could use, but the official still did not improve. My uncle could only watch him die."

"As soon as the noble official passed away, the rumors in the city came. Even a fool could smell the dirty conspiracy behind him. The general content of the rumors circulating in the city was that our family used evil witchcraft and black magic to kill the poor official. As evidence, I swear we have never done such a thing!"

The old pharmacist said hurriedly, closed his eyes in pain, and drew a cross on his chest.

"The family of the noble official was very prominent. He led this into the Holy See and asked the New Pope to uphold justice for him. He heard that the New Pope secretly accepted bribes and originally wanted to punish us severely, but the Cardinal and the Cardinal Priest had received favors from our family, and it was argued. In the end, the Pope just decided to expel our family from Rome."

"Our family lost most of their property and had to live on debt. Other family members were running around to make a living, and many relatives were cut off. My father went to the Kingdom of West Frank, and I went to the Kingdom of Lombards. At that time, I owed a Jewish lender who was greedy as much as Judas, but I didn't expect that the debt would be getting bigger and bigger like a snowball..."

The old pharmacist sighed, and the unconcealed loss appeared on his face like a yellow fallen leaves in late autumn.

It seems that the painful experience of that difficult period has been deeply engraved into his bones.

"Just when I was in a desperate situation, I met Bruen, the leader of the caravan. He took my abilities and paid off my debts for me, but in exchange, I had to stay in his caravan as his personal physician, and I had to pay half of the profits from selling medicines on the road. In this way, I followed him for nearly ten years."

"Bruen, the leader of the caravan, is really not a thing. He just helped you pay off your debt once, but signed such an unequal overlord clause with you!" Simon couldn't help but stand up for the old pharmacist.

"Dear Lord, please don't say that. I often think back that if Mr. Bruen had not paid my debts for me at that time, perhaps I had become a slave because of my debts and died worthlessly in a mine."

The old pharmacist's words were mixed with a different emotion. Maybe it was thankful or gladness? Simon didn't know.

"Well, no matter what you think, I will not interfere. I just want to know one thing now, do you have the will to stay in my territory? I can make you my court physician, provide you with a separate residence and a complete tool for alchemy..."

Simon paused and continued, "The condition is that you have to heal my soldiers and I and prepare the potion for free. Don't worry, you won't be too tired, but you will be busy during the war. As for other times, the income you get from selling potion, no matter how much you have, will belong to yourself."

"A very attractive offer, Sir, just Mr. Bruen..." The old pharmacist said and his voice became weaker.

"You have protected his health for ten years and paid him ten years of profit in selling medicines. Does he think this is not enough to offset the debt he paid for you back then?" Simon raised his eyebrows, and a hint of anger was faintly raised in his words.

The old pharmacist did not speak, but just lowered his head, held the rough railing on the edge of the carriage, and kept rubbing the irregular wood grain on the surface of the railing with his thumb.

"Sorry, Sir, because I am a person who is content with the status quo and have never encountered such an opportunity before, I have never told Mr. Bruen about leaving the caravan. I don't know how he is." After a while, the old pharmacist explained to Simon.

"I will go and negotiate with Bruen in person." Simon waved his hand, turned around, and walked straight towards the brightly colored tent on the edge of the wall.

"Sir, I'll go with you." The old pharmacist hurriedly covered the bottles and jars behind the carriage tightly with a wide black thick cloth, and then quickly followed Simon's pace.

"This old pharmacist is knowledgeable and talented, and he is very fond of kindness, but he is very timid and content with the status quo. All this may be caused by the changes he had encountered." Simon thought in his heart, and before he knew it, he had already arrived at the door of the tent.

The tent is made of spliced ​​red and blue cloth, with some wooden barrels and boxes piled up next to it. The fresh snow that fell last night was attached to the surface of the tent and supplies like pale moss.

A young guy in leather crest is sitting bored on an empty wine barrel at the door of the tent.

"Ri'an, dear Lord, are you here to find Mr. Bruen?"

Simon didn't say anything, just nodded. The guy bowed to Simon and then entered the tent.

After a while, the caravan leader Bruen, who was full of oily faces and dressed in a decorated bright yellow wool trouser shirt, walked out with a smile on his face and greeted Simon enthusiastically.

He has all the characteristics of a smart businessman—sparse and white hair, slightly narrowed eyes that reveal their shiny eyes, huge hooked noses, just-trimmed eight-character beards, and wrinkles representing experience.

"Sir, let me say it." The old pharmacist behind Simon, who had originally hesitated, seemed to have made up his mind, took a deep breath, walked to Bruen, who was puzzled, and proposed to him the idea of ​​staying in the village of Fold.

But to Simon's surprise, Bruen, the caravan leader who seemed extremely stingy and would never let him go, smiled happily at this moment and gave the old pharmacist a big hug.

"My dear old friend, thank you for your company for so many years! I'm glad you've met such a noble lord who is willing to take in your lord. In fact, I have been secretly looking for a way out for you in the past two years, but most lords and business leaders have short-sightedly rejected my recommendation after hearing your background story."

"Thank you, Bruen," said the old pharmacist, raising his hand and rubbing the corners of his wet eyes, "I will never forget how you saved me from despair and helplessness, and never forget everything you did for me!"

"Haha, old man, it's time for you to start a new life of your own. By the way, I have a gift specially prepared for you. I originally planned to give it to you when I find a lord who is willing to accept you, but I think I can give it to you now."

"What gift?" It was the old pharmacist's turn to scratch his head in confusion.

“A brand new set of alchemy tools!”

…………………………………………………………

The full name of the old pharmacist is Arthur Vipius Turia, a very typical Roman three-name legal structure name. He told Simon that he would be fine in the future.

That night, Simon found a young militia man who was willing to try the potion and gave him the owl potion prepared by Arthur.

Surprisingly, after about half an hour, the young man said that he could clearly feel his ability to have improved his night vision.

However, because the agent contains trace amounts of belladona toxin, the side effects are as Arthur said, and the light will feel a little burning when there is light.

But that night, the militiaman who had been standing guard on the village wall after drinking the owl potion keenly discovered a sneaky figure on the fields outside the village.

He quickly called Miller to explain the situation. Miller took him and two other militiamen on night to put on dark light armor, quietly opened the wooden door at the entrance of the village, and carefully touched the sneaky figure.

When Miller and the militia captured the guy alive and took him back to the village, they were surprised to find that this wretched guy was the cheating pilgrim in the caravan during the day.

At this moment, the pilgrim was emitting a strong stench, and there was a lot of filth on his hands and clothes. This made the two poor militias escort him behind him.

After Simon arrived at the scene with the fat man, he took the torch and found that the filth stuck on the pilgrim was actually the farmhouse fertilizer in the "Sheng Pit".

"Ha, isn't this our eloquent Mr. Faler? Why don't you sleep so late? What are you doing in my territory?" Simon sneered and looked at the nervous pilgrim with a cold look on his face.

"No, my lord, this is not my fault! I was sleeping well, but suddenly I had a strange dream. I dreamed that I came to heaven. The angel holding the horn touched my face and led me to an exquisite garden. Then, she gave me a shovel made of pure gold and said, "My job is to take care of this graceful garden. So, as I took care of it, your soldiers took me back to reality!"

"Hahahahaha!"

"Sir, you are so funny!"

The militia around us burst into laughter.

Seeing that everyone did not believe their argument, the pilgrim's face turned red, just like a gallon of strong wine just now.

"What's this?"

A quick-eyed militia suddenly pulled off the kettle without a wrinkle around the pilgrim's waist and threw it on the snow. The bottle mouth of the kettle slowly poured out of the sticky farmhouse fertilizer, which made people feel nauseous.

"It turns out that your second profession is a shameful thief, Mr. Falle, this is my territory, everything is my property. If you steal my property, according to the law, I can directly sentence you to hang. Even if you and Mr. Bruen have a huge friendship, it will be useless!" Simon held his head up and threatened to the dejected and depressed pilgrim who looked dead.

Simon could imagine that after the fraudulent pilgrim left his territory, he could boast about the bottle of farm fertilizer based on the story of the village of Folder, squeezing all the savings of a poor man.

"No, no, my dear, noble, supreme Lord, please let me know! I am willing to pay you a considerable fine in exchange for your forgiveness and exemption for my humble life!" The pilgrim was really scared this time, and begged Simon for mercy with tears in his nose.

"Oh? Then tell me, how much fine should you pay." Simon said jokingly at the embarrassed pilgrim.

"Sir, two or twenty silver coins of Transnier, are they enough?" asked the pilgrim carefully, and the sound was as small as the sound made by a mosquito.

"Do you know what you stole? This is a fertilizer blessed by God in the Vision pit. You, a timid guy, actually want to send me a mere twenty Transnier silver coins to my young master?"

The fat man's roar scared the pilgrim kneeling on the ground to tremble all over.

"Jew, sir, forty Transnier silver coins!"

"Take it into the woodshed, prepare a rope tomorrow to find a tree, and hang him."

"Oh no! No! Lord! I am willing to give out eighty Transnier silver coins, eighty!" As the pilgrim trembled with fear, a smell of urine spread from his body to the surroundings.

Simon waved his hand unmovedly, turned around with the fat man, and walked towards the Fort.

"One hundred and twenty-six silver coins of Transnier! This is all my wealth! Please, Lord! I really only have so much money! Let me go!" The pilgrim cried out in an instant, struggled to turn around, and shouted heart-wrenchingly at Simon's back.

"Ha, you finally let me see your sincere confession," Simon stopped and walked back with a smile. "Remember, if you can't hand over one hundred and twenty-six silver coins of Transnier, even if you only have one copper coins, I will still hang you."

"Yes, yes, sir!"
Chapter completed!