Chapter 88
Chapter 88
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Adrian's Voice
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“…….”
It was the first voice I’d heard from him since that first day in the basement.
I curled my lips into a smile and tapped the desk lightly.
‘I should keep this one.’
The moment I heard it, the resolve I’d felt on that first day came rushing back.
Adrian Ascanien smiled brightly.
[Congratulations. I’m really happy to hear you’re doing well.]
[Oh, have you heard the news about Young Lord Lucas Ascanien?]
[Of course. I heard you took first place when they destroyed the second outpost in Ravenna.]
[That would’ve been around the time one of your teammates got seriously injured yesterday.]
[Exactly. My little brother has always been my sore spot, but hearing he’s been working hard and achieving great results gave me strength I didn’t even know I had. Thanks to that, I was able to push through for my comrades, even covering his share.]
In a normal family, he would be a sore spot.
A younger brother born seven years later with a major constitutional issue was bound to end up in that position.
In reality, though, that constitutional problem didn’t exist, and far from being a sore spot, he was someone who needed to be eliminated soon.
‘Anyway, I knew he’d react like this.’
I couldn’t block my brother’s path now that I was back in the Empire, and my news had already spread far and wide.
On top of that, my participation in the experiment competition had wrecked any plans to keep me at home.
The Imperial Second Academy had started their break on the day we held our preliminary round, and I’d already notified them that I wouldn’t be coming home for the first week of the tournament.
‘It’s a hint to play along.’
He knew I wouldn’t take this as pure support.
I pulled out the filter and crumpled the newspaper into my bag.
Just then, the door opened.
Leo raised an eyebrow when he saw me at the desk.
“Hmm? You’re up already? It’s not even 6:30 yet.”
“I wanted to check the paper that came out today.”
“Ah.”
Leo had clearly already seen Adrian Ascanien’s article, nodding with a troubled look on his face.
He didn’t seem sure what to say.
To change the subject, I pointed at the basket he was carrying.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, letters from the secretary’s office. I just brought today’s batch.”
Leo set the basket on my desk.
For the past week, Nikolaus had been receiving piles of letters. Elias too.
I sat on the edge of the bed and started opening and reading them one by one.
‘They’re really dedicated.’
A surprisingly wide range of ages and groups had sent letters to Nikolaus.
It made me grateful all the more since I wouldn’t have done the same.
‘Too bad there’s no time to reply to each one.’
I slipped the read letter back into its envelope and reached into the basket for another.
‘Hm?’
I felt a thick one.
It was stuffed so full the envelope looked ready to burst.
“They checked this one before bringing it in, right?”
“Of course. Everything coming into the palace gets inspected.”
No blades or poison powder, then.
No one would go that far just to show malice, but better safe than sorry.
‘Wonder what they wrote to make it this long.’
[To the esteemed Sir Nikolaus Ernst]
It started off ordinarily enough.
After skimming the first three or four pages—which could’ve passed as a tournament report—the writer finally got personal.
[…Sir Nikolaus, you’re just like me. You must understand how I feel. We’re all people working to take down Pleroma.]
I checked the sender, but it was no one I recognized.
Counting them up, there were nearly ten pages of letter. Meaning seven pages of chit-chat.
‘…Hmm.’
I appreciated the sentiment, but this level of enthusiasm was a bit overwhelming.
Thankfully, it was all about me and Pleroma from start to finish, so nothing risky.
As I read the final page, noise erupted outside, followed by a knock at the door.
Knock knock knock—
“Class rep, let’s go! Time to experiment!”
“…That’s a Class 1-A kid’s voice?”
The Class 1-A class rep hadn’t qualified score-wise.
So he was talking to Leo….
It was surprising to hear a Class 1-A student calling out to the Class 1-B rep like that. But now that they were all gathered from across the nation, school divisions didn’t matter—they’d bonded just from being from the same school.
Leo let out a hollow laugh and headed to the door.
“They’ve been calling me that….”
He opened it, revealing two Class 1-A students.
“Oh, you’re both up. We gotta hurry. Can’t miss out on those 10 bonus points!”
Our school’s students had all placed in the top 50, earning the team 10 bonus points total.
But we couldn’t stop there.
Our school wasn’t specialized in potions.
We’d studied the subject for nearly ten years since the 3rd Academy, so we weren’t total novices, but this place was crawling with kids from nationwide potion specialist schools who swept competitions.
There was a reason they were hustling at 6 a.m.
Leo grabbed his bag and headed to the living room.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
* * *
“Alright, let’s start practice.”
Leo stood at the blackboard, tapping the desk.
We’d come yesterday too, but aside from its more antique decor, this lab was just like a modern one.
The equipment and safety gear were all top-notch, just like back at school.
The two Class 1-A students muttered to each other, proud they’d dragged us here early.
“Hey, we’re totally on top of it.”
“We have to be. To beat the Bavarian School of Magical Medicine.”
“Why bring up reality?”
Leo waved off their chatter and got to business.
“Right, like you said, school basics are just the starting point here. It’s way tougher, so let’s prep seriously for the exam format.”
“Sounds good, let’s do this!”
“Yeah, first off—anyone aiming for Imperial 1st Academy’s medical track?”
No one raised a hand.
Makes sense—if they were, they’d have gone to a magical medicine high school.
One Class 1-A kid let out a weak laugh.
“Dude, we’re screwed. I half-expected it, but we’re all general track. If the notice had come sooner, we could’ve prepped properly for this tournament at least.”
None of us except Leo had any potion background, so the others didn’t even know the exam trends.
“Knew it’d be that way. Still, now that we’re here, we can’t half-ass the exam we’ve been given. Right?”
“Damn right. We take every prize we can!”
“Good. Let’s start with past questions. Last year’s Round of 64 in potions was a laceration treatment potion.”
“Easy?”
“Looks that way. But… what part of the body is the laceration treatment potion from school meant for?”
“Isn’t it for anywhere?”
“Does it have a specific spot?”
“Limbs. Only if arteries aren’t damaged.”
The Class 1-A kids whipped their heads toward me with wide eyes at my answer. Now the Class 1-B kids were looking at them weirdly.
The 1-B kids were used to me chiming in, but these guys hadn’t had class with me.
“Right. The Round of 64 here required a laceration potion assuming ‘tetanus vaccine administered and artery damage.’”
‘They’ve even got tetanus vaccines here already.’
I’d heard of it vaguely. Magic sure is advanced….
The students grimaced.
“S-so what? We didn’t learn that.”
“True. But no high school-level problem is unsolvable. Anyone think how to handle it?”
Narke raised her hand.
“We’d need a vessel-generation potion too~ Spray that first, then the laceration one?”
“Exactly. That’s Round of 64 level. Doable, right?”
“Oh, then it’s not bad.”
Quick thinking under pressure is key for adapting like that.
Narke and Leo seemed sharp enough, so no worries there.
The issue was…
‘I hear the time limits are tight.’
Unless you’ve internalized the base recipes, even knowing the method won’t help if time runs out.
I asked quietly.
“Exam time?”
“For this one… 7 minutes.”
A Class 1-A kid’s jaw dropped.
“…What?! When do we heat it!”
“Heating takes 5 minutes. So two of us make the hemorrhage-control potion, three make laceration treatment.”
“Man, we gotta sync perfectly.”
The Class 1-A kids shook their heads.
Leo gave them an awkward smile, then continued.
“One more thing. How long for standard laceration potion effects?”
“About 30 minutes.”
“Yeah. Last year’s first round needed success in 60 seconds.”
“…….”
Silence fell.
A Class 1-A kid barely pulled himself together.
“…They don’t sell that stuff, do they…?”
“Nope. And there’s a reason it’s not on the market.”
Leo mixed ingredients and heated as he spoke.
He stabbed the lab skin with an awl.
Blood poured out like real skin.
He extinguished the flame and poured the boiling potion on it. In under 10 seconds, the damaged tissue swelled up.
“Whoa, success?!”
“Hold on.”
The students wrinkled their noses and stepped back.
The skin bubbled and foamed, swelling endlessly over the epidermis.
“Slight miscontrol causes this side effect—too risky to sell. But from Round of 64 to finals, they demand it. Without side effects.”
Everyone could make standard potions fine.
They ramp up difficulty with unsold ones for challenge.
‘This is basically training future dark wizards….’
Pity, but it’s part of the entrance exams.
With leveling up each year, problems get weirder.
Leo looked around.
“Truth is, just reaching Round of 64 would be a miracle for us. Up to last year, all Round of 32 teams were from Bavarian Magical Medicine.”
“…So this year’s the first non-specialist kids in the exam hall?”
“Pretty much. Let’s aim for Round of 8—no more, no less.”
Everyone nodded eagerly.
From Round of 8 on, teams got full support from the Bavarian Royal Academy. It was a huge goal.
Mine too.
To slack off properly the final week, I needed Round of 8 for Royal Academy special training over break.
I stood.
“Let’s start even one minute sooner. Takes time to get used to it.”
“Yeah, goggles on, gloves too. I’ll time you.”
“Theme?”
“This exact one. I’ll sit out first—do it yourselves.”
Leo hovered his hand over the stopwatch.
“Begin.”
“Hey hey, who can do vessels!”
“I’ll pair with Lucas.”
Narke poured the base potion into the beaker.
“Layers needed, so outer membrane first, then inner. Hmm, potion ingredients all have weird names.”
“Outer: tissue replication potion, bit of guide potion.”
Narke nodded as I expanded the abbreviations.
“Good, thanks. For inner guide, 1.5cm learning range. Widest here.”
“Yeah.”
Three minutes later, ours was done.
But…
“Argh, seriously! We should be heating by now.”
“Oh no. Blast it on high flame? Two alcohol lamps.”
“Oh?”
“…….”
“…What’s ‘oh’—it’s almost 4 minutes!”
Leo dropped the reality check.
But even without it, the Class 1-A kids’ faces were grim despite the jokes. They glanced apologetically at us.
“…3% of 100mL—how much?”
“What? You seriously don’t know?”
“Oh, oh! 3mL!”
Time crunch froze their brains.
Still mixing when they should heat—panic blocked everything.
Hands fumbled picking ingredients.
It was early 2nd-year material; half a semester later, easy to forget.
Unless learned from childhood, non-majors don’t retain recipes long.
Not slacking, just human.
‘I get it, but… this won’t work.’
Normally I’d let them manage, but not now.
I spoke up.
“Guys.”
“…Yeah?! What?!”
They flinched, bracing for a scolding.
“…Nah, not that. You good at math?”
“Huh? Uh, decent.”
“Can’t do 3% of 100mL but ‘decent’? Trustworthy?”
“S-sorry, that was… brain freeze from nerves. What?”
“Memorize the recipe again—think it’ll calm you?”
“Obviously.”
The Class 1-A kid’s eyes sharpened.
Good, that’s the spirit.
I nodded toward the table.
“I’ll call it out. Give it a shot.”