Lucas had expected his former queasiness to reassert itself. He'd thought that he might even have some new exotic debuff, but he'd deemed it to be worth the risk. I'm going to bed after this, he told himself. How bad can it be?

The answer was pretty bad. He'd only felt the warmth starting to coalesce into a ball of fire in his stomach when his body had reacted reflexively to reject it. He didn't know if it was a legitimate defense mechanism or if his stomach was overreacting, but either way, there was nothing he could do to stop it. The most he could do was dive for a bucket so he didn't spray that shit everywhere.

Those next couple minutes were long ones, but when it was done, he got to his feet and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "I guess that's all the experimentation we're going to get for today," he said to the few men who were standing nearby. Some looked at him with concern, while others only barely suppressed their laughter. He ignored both groups.

Instead, he dusted off his knees and said, "Well, that one looks like it's going to need a little work!" and then marched off to wash his mouth out and sleep off the effects of using too many potions.

Acute Potion Toxicity (6) - Severe nausea, +4 poison. -50% duration, -30% healing. Continued Potion use will worsen the symptoms.

His final potion had made the effect worse; as Lucas made his way back to his room, he wondered if the results would have been as explosive if he'd chosen six weaker potions. The amount seemed to be the biggest factor, but he didn't think that suddenly losing his lunch because he'd had one of the strongest potions he'd ever experienced in his life was a coincidence.

Even though his mind was racing, he was exhausted, so he slept like a log almost as soon as he laid down. He had time to take off his boots and wonder about whether or not his body had rejected the potion because he'd exceeded half his endurance. Then, before he could decide one way or the other, he was out.

It was a mostly dreamless sleep, and other than a vague memory of Danaria, nothing penetrated the exhausted darkness that Lucas was shrouded in. He didn't wake up again until sometime well after sunset when a maid knocked on his door to let him know it was dinner time.

"Let uhmmm… Lord Heisenburgle know that I'm sick and won't be joining him tonight," was all he managed to get out.

It wasn't the truth. Lucas' stomach felt fine now, and after the main left, he quickly checked to make sure that his potion toxicity warning had vanished. The very first thing he did was pull out a potion of lesser healing and chug it down. Even that was a struggle, though, because he ached all over. Even his hands hurt. He'd gone to bed a mildly nauseous twenty-something, but he'd woken up as an arthritic eighty-year-old.

Lucas was no stranger to pushing himself too hard. He'd done it after he'd recovered from the owlbear attack on several occasions, but this was a step or two beyond that. Everything hurt, his arms, his chest, his legs— His whole body was screaming at the strain he'd put it under, and there was no chance that he was going to get anything done without some rest.

Most of what he was feeling was strained muscles and tendons, but there was bruising, too, and the way one of his fingers was hurting, he was pretty sure he'd cracked one of his bones trying to bend that horseshoe with his bare hands. Lucas sighed at just how dumb that was.

He didn't regret oversleeping. He didn't even regret experimenting. However, he regretted not considering what the consequences of his little experiment might be. Well, that's not quite right, he corrected himself. I did consider that this might happen, and then I said screw it and kept going.

It wasn't the end of the world. He'd probably be fine in a day or two. It didn't feel like he'd broken anything. It certainly put some things in perspective, though. When he'd gone to bed, he'd regretted wasting his strongest potion. Now, he was incredibly glad he hadn't been able to drink it. If he'd tried to lift the heaviest cauldron, some part of his skeleton might have just straight up given out on him.

"I could have cracked a vertebrae or some shit," Lucas said quietly to himself.

Still, he'd learned a lot, even if part of that learning had been what not to do. He'd learned that he could only drink so many potions in quick succession without consequence and that just because he could make himself as strong as a superhero didn't mean he was as tough as one.

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That's what the endurance potions are for, though, he reminded himself.

That was true; the answer to every problem was another potion as far as he was concerned, but it also answered a lot of his questions about his attributes. Moving strength and probably even agility up too much without matching it with endurance seemed like a very bad idea.

So just before I try to cut that bitch's head off, I need to excuse myself, drink a potion for each of my three physical stats, and something to help me resist dragon fire, he thought glumly. Then, I can still drink a healing potion or two before I puke my guts out again.

Lucas pondered the implications of that and was just starting to flip through the abilities he could buy with some of his points when Heisenburgle made an appearance. "Not feeling well, are we?" he asked smugly. "I see that my wisdom was once again wasted on you."

"You got me," Lucas admitted, unwilling to explain the truth of his situation. The gnome was always easier to deal with when he was sure that he was right. "I might have done a bit too much today."

"A bit?" the gnome laughed as he hopped up on a chair by Lucas' bedside. "My man at the smithy said that you drank no less than six potions during your tomfoolery. No wonder you're sick. You could have killed yourself with all those potions."

"Well, if you knew it was a bad idea, then why didn't you warn me?" Lucas asked with a shrug.

"Why didn't I…" the alchemist balked. "What in the Tarnfabulation do you think I was doing? I didn't think you'd try to take all of them in one day, or I would have confiscated the whole lot!"

"I don't think you need to go that far," Lucas nodded. "I learned my lesson. Gotta pace myself, right?" What went unsaid was that he was going to step up his experiments, if anything. Next time, he'd do just two potions in a day, an endurance potion and a strength potion. What he needed to know now was how strong he could get without destroying his body when the magic wore off.

Still, he didn't let Heisenburgle in on any of that. He just let the gnome gloat for a bit. Then, when he was satisfied that Lucas wasn't going to die, the gnome went back to his experiments and left Lucas in peace.

By that point, Lucas had forgotten where he left off, so he opened his interface back up, and then he scrolled to a random spot and started to dig through his abilities again. If he was going to lie around, he might as well do so in a way that was useful. Only, when he noticed a new achievement had appeared and flicked it open, he stopped what he was doing and just looked at it.

Maximum Alchemical Potential: 22/35 increase an attribute to 35, the maximum for any single mortal attribute.

Though Lucas had been able to gather hints and clues about the way all of this worked, but none of them had been as revealing as this one. So 35 is as high as I can go, huh? He asked himself. Does that mean going to 36 is lethal, impossible, or some third option?

Lucas was careful about reading too much into these things, but if he could only go to 35, then he probably didn't need to waste his points on stats. He could already make a potion that would theoretically get his strength to 38. He knew that he shouldn't do that, of course, for a variety of reasons, but the option was there. With unlimited access to Heisenburgle's rare and expensive reagents, he could make just about anything.

With some effort, Lucas imagined that he could create a potion for each of his attributes and max all of them out. The only question was if he'd survive the experience.

He thought about that as he reviewed more of his abilities. It took a while, but eventually, he found a couple that he liked.

Elixir Inurement - For two points, the alchemist may drink potions more often, and is 50% less likely to become addicted to them in the process.

While he remembered looking at that one before, it hadn't stood out because he hadn't been planning on doing any drugs; today's limitation had brought things into stark relief. If his plan really was going to be, 'drink potions to max out all my attributes and then slay a dragon,' then he was going to need to be a bit more strategic there.

"But if I'm not going to use them to boost my shit, then what am I going to use them on?" he asked himself. Lucas didn't know. That wasn't really his foremost concern right now, though. First, he needed to get better. Then he needed to try again with a pair of high-strength and high-endurance potions to make sure that he could offset the price of being a superman.

If that worked out well, then he could try to max out his strength after that and see what happened. Then, if all went well, he could do the same thing to test for his agility. That many experiments at a reduced pace would take a week or two, but other than his own burning need for vengeance and a desire to communicate with Danaria, he wasn't exactly on the clock.

It all seems very doable, he told himself as he lay there in the dark room. I just need to take it slow and stop trying to kill myself, and everything will be alright.

No, it would be better than alright, he decided. For the first time since he'd watched Parin Manor burn, he had some idea of how he was going to get his revenge. He was going to get as strong as the rules of this magic would let him, and then he was going to cut her heart out and serve roast dragon at his and Danaria's wedding.

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