Baek Da-eun
The spell formation blanketing the entire laboratory pulsed with blue light.
A vast mass of turbid qi split into four branches at the center and flowed outward into the perimeter spell gates.
"Third spell gate operating normally!"
"Fourth spell gate normal! It's flowing back into the central core!"
While the instructors and students shouted over one another in a flurry of activity, the Saseong kept her eyes fixed on the central spell gate, unwavering.
The tips of her fingers had gone cold and stiff.
Ordinarily, her emotions ran volatile enough to shift the surrounding temperature, but right now every ounce of her focus was devoted to suppressing her Manifestation Formula.
She was terrified that even the slightest tremor might disturb the formation.
Baek Da-eun.
A genius spell-caster without parallel, who had risen to the seat of Saseong — the head of Soeun Academy — at the tender age of thirty-two.
Which was precisely why this purification formation research had to succeed.
Even now, at this very moment, those who resented the sight of a young woman occupying the director's chair were whispering behind her back, whittling away at her reputation.
The new concept — dividing turbid qi into four elemental properties and purifying each in turn, unlike any existing formation — had consumed five years of research, only to fail again and again. She was standing at the very moment when her nerves had been ground to a razor's edge.
If she couldn't produce results before the Grand Saseong's inspection, the budget would be slashed drastically, and she would be dragged down from her seat.
Please.
Though her outward impression was one of icy composure, inwardly she was praying to every god she could name.
"Entering the central spell gate!"
At an instructor's cry, Baek Da-eun's eyes narrowed.
Four clumps of spiritual energy slid into the central gate one after another, arranged themselves in distinct sequences, and began to merge.
Without the faintest collision, the energies fused into one, settled into their designed positions, and revealed a brilliant white form.
"Spiritual purity at ninety percent!"
A student checking the measurement talisman shouted himself hoarse.
"Residual turbid qi is below threshold! It's a success!"
A beat of silence.
Then the laboratory erupted into cheers loud enough to tear its walls apart.
"Waaaaah!"
"It worked!"
"We finally did it!"
The students threw their arms around one another, and even the instructors who had maintained their stony composure clenched their fists in triumph.
But Baek Da-eun never took her eyes off the central formation.
So that was the problem.
Until now, she had only ever thought about classifying the four properties and processing them separately. She had never considered the sequencing and design of the moment the energies converged at the center and were released again.
Focused so intently on purification, she had overlooked something simple.
Perhaps...
Baek Da-eun recalled the moment Dohyeon had tripped a short while ago.
As he fell, he had spilled the inkstone shards, and the spreading ink had altered the connecting lines into something they had never been before.
By all common sense, the idea that a mere laborer had interpreted and corrected a spell formation was absurd.
But Baek Da-eun was a genius.
And so she understood, better than anyone, that there exist people who stumble upon what others cannot see — and find it utterly natural to do so.
Her gaze turned toward the front door through which the laborer had left.
Her eyes were as cold as ever, yet around Baek Da-eun there shimmered not a biting frost, but a wave of heat radiating outward.
"I like it."
"I'm sorry? Did you say something, Saseong-nim?"
"Nothing. Then let's prepare to reproduce the results when the Grand Saseong arrives."
"Ah — understood."
As the instructor she'd addressed barked orders and the team began to clean up, a student opened the front door and brought Dohyeon back in.
She'd assumed it was coincidence, but perhaps because the experiment had succeeded, the student's hostility toward Dohyeon seemed to have softened considerably.
"Is the experiment over?"
Dohyeon peered carefully into the depths of the lab.
The formation covering the floor still held a faint blue glow.
It had been an arduous ordeal for everyone, apparently — most of them still carried the lingering aftertaste of their emotions.
Thank goodness.
Judging by the atmosphere, it had worked.
He'd worried his hasty patchwork might have introduced some new problem, but it looked like the formation had run properly after all.
With the experiment a success, there was far less to clean up, and Dohyeon was sweeping briskly when he felt a wave of heat at his back. He tilted his head and turned around.
There stood Baek Da-eun, her expression as frigid as ever, staring straight at him.
"Gah! Saseong-nim, is there something you need from me?"
"What's your name?"
"What use could my humble name possibly—"
Something told him that volunteering his name would bring nothing good, and Dohyeon heard himself talking back before he could stop it.
Unsurprisingly, Baek Da-eun's brow furrowed in displeasure — and yet, strangely, the surrounding temperature climbed even higher.
That's odd. If her Manifestation Formula moves the environment based on her emotions, then unlike earlier — when she got angry and the frost came — right now she's in a good mood?
Is she in a good mood because she's planning to fix my wagon?
"It's Han Dohyeon."
Despite the rising heat, Dohyeon felt a chill run through him and answered swiftly.
"Han Dohyeon..."
Baek Da-eun murmured his name slowly.
It was, undeniably, a beautiful woman calling his name in a voice like jade beads rolling across glass — and still, Dohyeon was certain this boded nothing good.
Don't tell me she thinks I solved the problem.
Even I can tell I patched it up in an unnaturally suspicious way.
Tch — what excuse do I even give?
But contrary to his fears, Baek Da-eun simply turned and began to walk away.
What was that about?
If she was just going to leave, why bother asking?
...Am I getting fired?
Dohyeon watched her retreating back with anxious eyes.
"What are you doing? The Grand Saseong arrives soon."
A passing student hurried him along.
"Ah, yes."
Dohyeon resumed his brisk sweeping.
Whatever. It'll work out somehow.
Having finished the last of the cleaning, Dohyeon made his way back down to the break room.
Every muscle ached, and not a scrap of energy remained in his body.
Probably because he'd squeezed out that pathetic crumb of spiritual energy.
Would it kill the heavens to drop a single spirit herb on my head? If my internal reserves were just a little larger, I could experiment with so much more variety of formations.
Of course, without proper energy-adaptation training, my narrow qi channels might render it all pointless anyway.
"Dohyeon, lad, you worked hard out there."
"Mr. Man-bok. Got anything to eat?"
"Haha, one trip up the mountain and you've aged three years. Here, eat this. It's the jerky I've been saving."
Jang Man-bok pulled out a jerky strip the size of his palm and tossed it; Dohyeon snatched it out of the air and popped it into his mouth.
Chew chew chew.
"...When exactly did you make this?"
"Tch, winter before last, maybe."
"It's summer right now."
"That's why it's called savin' it, ain't it."
Dohyeon seriously deliberated whether to spit the jerky out.
No matter how he chewed, it only seemed to get more rubbery.
"So, anything happen up in the lab?"
"Can't talk. Busy chewing jerky."
"Ha, what kinda man gets stumped by that. Fine, here's a fresh one."
Jang Man-bok tossed over another strip.
Dohyeon caught it on reflex, eyed it with suspicion, and finally took a bite.
"Oh, this one's actually good."
"Course it is. Look who made it."
Jang Man-bok stroked his mustache with a proud face.
A laborer at Daehan Seodang for over a decade, he knew the mountain terrain better than most of the students did.
He knew exactly which spots escaped the caretakers' watchful eyes, so now and then he'd set traps for game, dress the catch himself, and turn it into jerky.
"Anyway — nothing happened up there?"
"The research succeeded."
"Really? Well, thank goodness for that. I was worried how you'd survive once they tossed you out."
Jang Man-bok's eyes went wide, and then, looking relieved, he gave Dohyeon's shoulder a pat.
"What's that supposed to mean? If anyone gets cut, it'd be you, old man."
"Haha, you know as well as I do. Look how many years I've worked this place."
"A man who's done his time wouldn't lift a finger to save a young one — heavens forbid he hand over an opportunity."
Dohyeon knew better.
For all his grumbling, when the moment actually came, Man-bok was exactly the sort of man who would step up for him.
Not that it would much improve Dohyeon's odds of getting fired.
"They do say this is where all the smartest folks in Korea gather. Figured you'd pull it off."
"Ahem. Thank you."
"...Why are you thanking me?"
"Because I'm grateful?"
Jang Man-bok stared at him like he'd lost his mind for a moment, then sighed and shook his head.
"Anyway, you can thank me properly. I'm the one who fixed the formation."
"Oh aye, if you fixed the formation, then I must be the Grand Saseong."
"Huh? But it's true."
It was unfair to Dohyeon, but Jang Man-bok simply could not believe him.
How, by what miracle, could Dohyeon fix what the finest minds in Korea had failed to mend for five years?
Jang Man-bok quietly wondered whether something odd hadn't accidentally gotten into his jerky during the drying process.
"By the way, old man. How much does a spirit herb usually go for?"
"Why're you askin' about that?"
"Just curious."
"You plannin' to become a spell-caster or somethin'?"
"Me?"
Dohyeon pointed at himself in disbelief.
"At my age?"
"Ahem. Well, some folks do start late."
Jang Man-bok scratched his head, looking embarrassed.
"Seen a few laborers over the years watch the students and fool themselves into thinkin' they could do it too."
"Oh? What happened to them?"
"What d'you think — fired, every last one. Anyway, forget about bein' a caster. Why d'you want a spirit herb?"
"Just wondering about the price."
When Dohyeon gazed at him with the purest of expressions, Jang Man-bok eyed him suspiciously but eventually spoke.
"Price, eh? Lowest-grade spirit herb runs about ten million won."
"Yikes, ten million for a single stalk of grass?"
"Growin' the stuff eats up spirit stones, and the growers've got their own cartel squeeze goin' on. That's the deal."
Dohyeon stared at him flatly for a moment — then brightened, as if struck by a brilliant idea.
"But it just grows wild on the mountain. So if I find one, it's mine, right?"
Naturally, Jang Man-bok — who had read every word of that thought — shot him down without ceremony.
"Anything found on Daehan Seodang's mountain range belongs to Daehan Seodang."
"Ugh, they even tax wild grass here?"
"Then go buy yourself a mountain."
Dohyeon fell silent.
If I just had spiritual energy at around a 3rd-Rank Taoist's level, I could build an automated café system.
And to automate a café, I'd need to buy a whole mountain.
Worse still, spirit herb sellers apparently factored your background into the price — an orphan like him would surely be quoted a premium.
After a moment's agonizing, Dohyeon sighed and rose from his seat.
"Sheesh. Corrupt. Utterly corrupt."
"Where you off to?"
"Going to buy a drink."
"Get me one too."
Dohyeon heard him perfectly clearly and walked out pretending he hadn't.
He was strolling unhurriedly toward the vending machine when he spotted a student pacing back and forth up ahead.
Hm. Should I turn back? Bump into her for nothing and end up with more work?
Avoiding people was, technically, what his job description existed for — but the student spotted Dohyeon mid-escape, met his eyes, and started walking toward him.
Yeah, I knew this would happen.
The student approaching him wore clothes that were dirty and frayed at the hems.
But with her black bob and cute face, she gave off less an impression of poverty than of a mischievous little prankster — somehow, even the shabby clothes looked natural on her.
"Um..."
The student stopped in front of Dohyeon and spoke up hesitantly.
What is this? Why is a student deferring to a laborer?
"Yes? What can I do for you?"
"Well, um..."
The student's lips fluttered open and shut several times, but the words wouldn't come.
It should have been agonizing to watch, but her look was so endearing that even the fidgeting suited her rather well.
"Take your time."
Finally seeming to make up her mind, the student set her expression with resolve.
She squeezed her eyes shut as if steeling herself, then shouted in a voice that cracked high with nerves.
"Please teach me!"
"...I'm sorry, what?"