By Zephyria 
Marianne proved to be a good informant once her excitement subsided. She seemed to gather all sorts of rumors from within the Department of Magic, and the news that Little Kiadris and Edwin Kiadris were going to spar had the entire department buzzing.
I found it rather displeasing, wondering how my surname had been forcibly swapped for another. I felt Ernhardt was a hundred times better than Kiadris.
“Has the date for the sparring match been set?”
“Not yet. I don’t know what Young Master Kiadris said, but I only heard that an application to rent Attack Magic Lecture Hall 1 had been submitted. Lecture Hall 1 is a place where only one wizard and one supervising professor enter at a time to practice dangerous attack magic. How could he intend to enter there with just Edwin…”
“I don’t think they’ll be going in alone.”
“…Huh? What do you mean?”
Seeing that Marianne didn’t seem to understand, I explained in a calm voice.
“If an application is submitted to the school, I assumed a supervising professor would naturally be assigned. If my prediction is correct, Professor Maelo Sanson from the Swordsmanship Department and Professor Angela Sting from the Department of Magic will accompany them as observers and judges. If we’re lucky, perhaps one medical staff member might be assigned as well. If the rumors spread further, a few more wizards who want to research the clash of auras and mana might show up.”
“Oh, so… yes? Uh…?”
“If they report it to the Academy in advance, the professors will take the necessary precautions, so even if the students’ skills are lacking, nothing dangerous will happen, right? I am Ernhardt, and he is Kiadris.”
“That’s… no, what are you saying.”
“It’s true I wanted to spar, and I asked because I thought Edwin would handle all the troublesome things like booking the training grounds, so you really don’t need to worry.”
I now understood the weight carried by my name. No matter how much Edwin Kiadris acted out, I was the direct eldest grandson of Ernhardt, backed by the power of the Duke Valentia Family. They couldn’t harm me without rules.
After I explained all that, Marianne, who had been gripping my collar with all her might, clenched and unclenched her hands, which were still red, a couple of times before politely apologizing.
As I accepted her apology, I asked where she had put the fan language from the etiquette class we discussed earlier. She replied that since etiquette is mutual, she had decided to be ignorant of it because I was. It was a valid point. I nodded.
Meanwhile, the other three, who had been trying to break up the fight without knowing why Marianne was acting so wild, looked bewildered and asked me what I had been up to. I told them I intended to do everything I wanted before graduating, and they quietly agreed.
After the commotion, we took out the shelf where the materials gathered from the previous outdoor class were stored and waited for the lesson to begin.
Having already experienced Professor Cedric’s classes a few times, I knew his teaching style was one that read ‘freedom’ but was actually ‘neglect,’ so the posture of all eight groups of students was lax.
After waiting for the students to move the items from the ingredient shelf, Professor Cedric stood on the dais and tapped the lectern sharply with his baton to draw their attention.
Since he wasn’t usually like this, it was strange, and they quieted down easily.
“Alright, alright. Focus! Starting today, we’ll be making vitality potions using the collected ingredients. What were some of the ingredients we gathered last time? Who can tell me? Raise your hands!”
He asked as if addressing small children, and a few raised their hands, answering one by one.
Names like a triangular-headed grass flower, red berries that formed round clusters inside bushes, and seeds from fruits with green shells were listed.
“Yes, and with this. If you mix it with Mana Stone powder, you can make a vitality potion. Since each ingredient is non-toxic and easily obtainable, their efficacy is weak, so it doesn’t have any great effects like regeneration. However, even if you make a mistake in the ratio, the only downside is that it tastes disgusting, so it’s very suitable for your first attempt at Alchemy! You’ll be sharing and drinking it right after making it, so approach it with a diligent attitude!”
I have to drink this?
The ingredients laid out before me looked like colorful toys from a pretend play set, no matter how I looked at them. The children took out flasks, test tubes, and other equipment from their camping backpacks. Each group received a small mortar and pestle.
I’ve always been clumsy with these things, so I stood back with my hands behind my back. Soon, our group’s leader, Damian, began directing the children while carefully reading the instructions.
They ground, mashed, measured, mixed in order, pounded, added a little water, and pounded again. Each time, the color changed, and it became hard then mushy, which was fascinating, but it didn’t look like something edible.
As the last step, what was made was mixed with water and stirred. The color that came out was a thick, viscous substance resembling grotesque swamp moss. It didn’t look like a success at all, so everyone suffered greatly.
It was the same for other groups, not just ours. Professor Cedric, saying it would be a waste of ingredients, urged all the students to drink the nauseating, viscous liquid, taking a sip each.
The potion, which we drank with reluctance, tasted revolting.
Professor Cedric let out a chilling laugh as he watched the students suffer.
“Why is Alchemy called Alchemy and not cooking or crafting? Why did I put a wizard in each of your teams? You put Mana Stone powder in and don’t even think about infusing it with Mana to utilize it!”
“Ugh, Professor, but the instructions…!”
“You must doubt! Alchemy is doubt, my dear little friends. You mustn’t just see things as they are! Always think, ponder, doubt, and invent new things! That is what we call Alchemy! Following the past always leads to regression. Do you understand?”
Professor Cedric’s nature was clear. He had deliberately let them fail and made them drink the failed product. I was astonished.
It was a decent lesson to let children experience failure under supervision, but it was incredibly unpleasant for those undergoing it.
This lesson would certainly be unforgettable for a lifetime.
…And so, the second potion completed was a beautiful purple liquid with sparkling powder floating within.
Using the same ingredients in the same order, it was astonishing how the color and appearance changed just by drawing in Mana and infusing it.
The properly completed vitality potion tasted refreshing, sweet, and had a cooling sensation down the throat. Professor Cedric showed belated kindness, saying he would share a little Mana Stone powder during exams if they needed vitality potions, and told them to bring the ingredients.
The revolting, slippery taste lingered in my mouth, bringing no joy.
❖ ❖ ❖
Lately, I’d been making eye contact with Rubel often during advanced Swordsmanship class. Since we both had sensitive Qi senses, the moment I felt his gaze, mine would turn towards him.
At some point, I started ignoring him out of annoyance, but he stared so intently that my cheeks felt ticklish. Today, when our eyes met, I mouthed, “Why?”
Perhaps he was offended by my informal address or surprised, but he didn’t look at me anymore today, so I could focus on the class.
Then, during Professor Douglas Mustang’s class, I was dumbfounded.
While the days had been passing by too quickly lately, I couldn’t believe that the end of the week was already approaching.
Now that I wasn’t preoccupied with the transmission of internal energy cultivation methods, I became curious about how to use auras in this world. After receiving permission from Professor Mustang, I sat down and observed how the other students enveloped their bodies with auras, enhancing my Eye Force.
After sitting and watching intently for a full hour until my eyes ached, I felt a vague sense of understanding, or perhaps not, a perplexing feeling.
It was similar to when I first saw human hair on Sierren and couldn’t distinguish between purple and pink, or blue and green, and got lost.
There was definitely a difference, but it was difficult to discern with my eyes because I wasn’t used to it.
I would learn this too, eventually.
It had only been a month since I started attending the Academy, yet I had learned and gained so much. There was still much I hadn’t processed. I decided not to rush things.
I felt satisfied, as if my mind was gradually being cultivated.
As the class ended and I was about to leave, Professor Douglas Mustang called me over and asked for permission to observe the sparring match with Edwin Kiadris.
I gladly agreed and told him that other professors or wizards who might be curious could also be invited, as long as it didn’t interfere with the match.
Douglas Mustang smiled broadly and agreed, saying, “Thank you.” Then, with a worried look, he asked, “But won’t Young Master Edwin Kiadris dislike it?”
“If he says no, I will grant permission if you ask him if he’s afraid he’ll lose, Kiadris Young Master.”
“…Ah, no, I wouldn’t say something like that…”
“I will say it, so it’s fine, Professor.”
“…Uh, uh-huh. Please, Young Master Ernhardt…”
I was satisfied with Douglas Mustang’s expression, which ultimately yielded to curiosity over my desire not to trample on Edwin Kiadris’s pride, and smiled.
He had helped me a great deal, and I expected to receive much more help from him in the future, so I intended to look out for him a bit.
Who was Douglas Mustang? Wasn’t he the man who, upon hearing I wanted to see something, went to the Magic Tower and brought back a pile of related research information?
There were countless wonders since coming to Sierren, but magic was still one of the most astonishing things.
Creating towering spires that seemed to pierce the sky was the power of magic, and when drought struck, scattering water evenly over barley and wheat sprouts in vast fields was also the power of magic.
It felt like the source of a prosperous and abundant life, something I wanted to keep within easy reach.
In that sense, Mustang was a talented individual who could easily become friends with me and wizards because he handled auras and mana exceptionally well.
The wizards who would come to watch the sparring match, introduced by Mustang, would undoubtedly be seasoned individuals who had achieved their own realms. I considered it beneficial if I could get even a casual introduction or, at the very least, exchange a few words with them.
Professor Mustang, unaware of my inner thoughts, seemed to be suffering for a moment, as if he had condoned the presumptuous behavior of a junior provoking a senior, succumbing to his own desires.
He repeatedly nodded as if agreeing, then repeated his suffering.
To divert his thoughts, I suddenly brought up a story I had been curious about earlier.
“By the way, Professor.”
“Yes…?”
“There’s something I heard you mention before that I don’t quite understand.”
“Yes, please tell me.”
“How many children do you think dream of opening a bakery? Not as a compromise with reality, but simply because they want to, they wish for that profession. Don’t most children want to become knights or wizards? The servers I knew… no, the restaurant employees, most of them didn’t like their jobs.”
“Well… Isn’t that because it’s not their own store? If they were the owner, they might take pride in their restaurant and like it. Don’t people think about wanting a bakery, or an ice cream shop, and so on?”
“…That might be the case. An owner, an owner…”
If the dream was to possess something, it was somewhat understandable.
I tried to imagine children who could dream of doing something they liked or preferred, not just for survival. It was still a distant scene, difficult to conjure up.