EDM 65

After that, whenever Kafka had free time, he met with Medeio to learn about potion-making.

The process was twice as tricky and complex compared to medicine preparation, so he wondered if he could make it properly, but before he knew it, completion was right around the corner.

“Wait. Aren’t your classes over for today?”

Soren frowned as he grabbed Kafka, who was heading toward the annex building.

“Well, yes, but I have something to do.”

As Soren said, there were no more scheduled classes today, but he had arranged to meet Medeio in the lab after 5th period to do the finishing work. That’s why he was going to the annex instead of the dormitory.

“What do you have to do?”

“Just… something personal.”

Kafka avoided eye contact and gave a vague answer. He could have honestly said he was going to make a potion to give to him, but being completely honest felt rather awkward.

‘It might seem like I’m showing off, and giving a gift after announcing it beforehand feels weird too.’

So Kagka planned to keep it secret until he completed the potion and gave it as a gift. Soren frowned, apparently displeased with the evasive answer. He let go of Kafka’s robe hem that he had lightly grabbed and crossed his arms.

“There aren’t even any Healer department classrooms over there. Isn’t that the floor the Alchemy department uses?”

“Well, my business is with the Alchemy department.”

“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly switching majors to Alchemy now.”

That slick guy? Soren’s frown deepened.

Kafka didn’t know what grudge Soren was holding, but ever since that day, Soren had been busy grumbling and calling Medeio “that slick guy” all the time. Just yesterday evening at the dining hall, he was so hostile toward Medeio when they ran into each other that it was chilling to watch.

‘What if this breaks up the hero party?’

Medeio hadn’t shown any particular resentment toward Soren yet, but if this kind of confrontation continued, who knows what might happen. Kafka thought he should defend Soren a bit when he met Medeio later, and brushed off his wrinkled robe.

“Speaking of which, why are you being so prickly toward Medeio?”

“……”

“There’s nothing good about making an enemy of the Foshenat ducal family. I don’t know why you dislike him so much, but don’t go too far.”

“Ha.”

Soren let out a hollow laugh. He rolled his eyes upward as if incredulous and ran his hand through his hair.

His red eyes stared at Kafka with persistent intensity, as if they could kill. The blatant anger made his spine tingle for a moment.

“…Why?”

“Forget it.”

“What?”

“I said forget it. I can’t be bothered.”

What’s wrong with him? Kafka’s expression was colored with bewilderment. Although his tone had been somewhat preachy, it wasn’t enough to warrant this level of irritation. Besides, it wasn’t something he said for his own benefit, wasn’t it for Soren’s sake?

In any case, the time for his appointment with Medeio was approaching. This wasn’t the time to stand in the hallway having a meaningless argument with Soren. Kafka sighed deeply and tried to end the conversation by saying they’d talk again later that evening.

“Says who?”

But it takes two hands to clap. Soren didn’t seem inclined to accept the ceasefire proposal at all.

“Let me tell you, I won’t have anything to talk about with you this evening.”

“Soren. Don’t be unreasonable.”

“Then leave me to my unreasonableness and go meet that slick guy. Aren’t you running out of time?”

Soren gestured toward the corridor with his chin. Stress suddenly overwhelmed Kafka, then he pressed his forehead and shook his head.

In any case, he couldn’t stand Medeio up like this. Thinking it would be better to go while he was letting me go willingly, Kafka tried to wrap up the situation.

“Cool off a bit. And we’ll talk later.”

Soren silently turned his head away sharply and went his own way. Kafka walked briskly toward the lab, controlling his rising irritation.

Apart from being angry about the fight for unknown reasons, he felt bitter toward Soren. Here he was stirring potions until his arms are about to fall off, and he didn’t even know why. Maybe he should just forget about the gift and everything else…

Walking almost at a run, he became out of breath and slowed down. Kafka leaned against the wall with one arm and caught his breath.

‘Right, what did the potion do wrong?’

Opportunities to learn potion-making from a sage aren’t common. Even if he wasn’t going to give Soren a healing potion as a gift, learning it would be useful someday.

Kafka sighed deeply. The sound of his exhale echoed in the quiet corridor.

“Why are you sighing so heavily?”

At that moment, the lab door opened and Medeio poked his head out. Kafka felt a bit embarrassed, wondering if his sigh had been too loud.

Kafka shook his head, saying it was nothing. Of course, he wasn’t any better at social skills than Soren, so his gloomy expression remained unchanged.

“Did something happen?”

“Not really.”

“Ibelonoia made you angry again, didn’t he?”

“…Were you spying or something?”

“It’s obvious. Aisha wouldn’t suddenly upset you for no reason.”

“It could be someone else. My parents, or Professor Daconeer…”

“That’s true.”

But it’s definitely Ibelonoia. Medeio stated this with certainty as he removed the wooden lid covering the cauldron.

The potion that had definitely been green until yesterday afternoon had turned transparent. As he peered into the cauldron with curiosity, Medeio smiled slightly.

“For a first attempt, this is excellent. You seem to have talent for alchemy too?”

“Only because you helped me.”

“I just gave advice from the sidelines. When you have time later, try studying alchemy a bit.”

“Pharmacy and alchemy have some things in common.” Medeio said as he handed over a ladle. Kafka nodded and took the ladle, dipping it into the cauldron to stir. Due to its slight viscosity, each rotation left a trail on the surface.

“If you keep stirring, at some point the healing berry scent will rise strongly. Then pour this entire bottle of pepera mushroom spores in and stir until it becomes a transparent blue.”

Medeio explained the subsequent procedure. It seemed that would complete the intermediate healing potion they were currently making.

Kafka gripped the ladle with both hands and stirred the cauldron diligently to prevent the potion from sticking. In less than five minutes, his arms grew weak and sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Hang in there. Alchemy is 98 percent labor.”

Medeio was writing something in a notebook at the desk right next to him. Though he was an outsider and didn’t know much about it, it looked like he was creating a new alchemy recipe. Kafka groaned as he stirred the cauldron and casually tried to start a conversation with Medeio.

“What are you trying to make?”

“I’m not making something new, I’m trying to improve something that already exists. It’s called a bomber, a drug used instead of bombs…”

Bomber. It was a familiar name since it was one of the alchemy weapons frequently used in Knight of the North Wind. Having heard this much, Kafka got a rough idea of what Medeio was trying to create.

“You’re trying to add attributes to it, aren’t you?”

Bombers made with added attributes were one of Medeio’s favorite weapons. Since they could deal attribute damage over a wide area and powerfully, they were more efficient than most magic for dealing with monster hordes.

“How did you know?”

“It’s obvious.”

“No, but how?”

“If you think about it a little, the answer comes out, doesn’t it?”

Kafka was teasing him. “It’s obvious” and “if you think about it a little, the answer comes out” were among Medeio’s verbal habits.

As he pretended not to know and just stirred the cauldron, Medeio looked at him as if bewildered, then turned his gaze back to his notebook.

“…Anyway, I think it’ll be useful in various ways if I develop it.”

“Even though the world is this peaceful?”

Kafka asked casually. Of course, he knew that the demon lord would be resurrected before long, so he wasn’t really asking because he didn’t know. He just wanted to understand Medeio’s thoughts and feelings.

The Knight of the North Wind webtoon had received favorable reviews for its clean adaptation, but because too many parts were cut out, it was difficult to understand the psychology of characters other than Soren and Aisha. Therefore, while reading the webtoon, he would often become curious about the stories of Maria, Medeio, and Dexter.

Did they, who had joined the hero party as if it were natural because they were awakened ones, also have their own thoughts or resolve?

Since he was now in the position of a character rather than a reader, Kafka had forgotten about this for a while, but seeing Medeio researching attribute bombers suddenly revived my curiosity.

“If you’re not going to research weapons just because it’s peaceful, then why learn swordsmanship and why learn combat magic?”

“That’s true too.”

“If the demon lord were to be resurrected, we’d be the first to be drafted.”

“……”

“If I succeed in improving the bomber, we’ll be able to easily deal with miscellaneous monsters with this.”

Then the people on the front lines will be a bit safer. Medeio said that and became absorbed in improving the formula again.

He didn’t specifically mention the subject, but Kafka could tell who he was doing this research for. When combat occurs, it’s usually swordsmen who take the front lines.

Simply put, he was essentially researching bomber improvements for Aisha’s sake. Upon realizing this, his feelings became endlessly strange. It felt like facing a buried truth.