Chapter 73: Isn’t Travel in Academy Stories Always Like This? (10)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 73: Isn’t Travel in Academy Stories Always Like This? (10)
The Alchemist of the Rose.
The world he was born into was one where alchemy had flourished.
He was a rather peculiar individual for an alchemist. Perhaps due to his naturally handsome features and refined temperament, he was always meticulous about his cleanliness and appearance. While other alchemists chased gold and immortality, he studied beauty and the mysteries of finite life.
Many alchemists mocked him.
A fool wasting his natural talent.
That was the derogatory nickname his colleagues used for him.
Whenever they ridiculed him so, he would simply give a thin smile and say:
— I happen to prefer roses over gold.
He always maintained that beauty was beautiful because it eventually faded, and that permanence was synonymous with worthlessness.
He insisted that a single rose that made people smile was more valuable than gold, and a field of flowers covering the land was more valuable than a single rose. The moment he began to change was after he found a lover.
The first person in his life he thought was more beautiful than a flower, the first person he truly longed to reach.
He admired the kingdom’s Knight Commander, who was so breathtakingly beautiful. She, too, was interested in him, and they fell in love almost instantly.
“…And that was the problem.”
Yes, that was the problem.
-I do not recommend approaching. You may touch anything outside, but this place was cherished by my late master…
“Yes, there are many dangerous devices. I know.”
The Knight Commander died.
She, who always said she wanted to fall like a flower on the battlefield, succumbed to a disease. She grew frail and passed away.
It was an incurable disease that the medicine of that era could not fix.
After his lover died, the alchemist who had claimed everything was valuable because it was finite realized with agonizing clarity how arrogant his words had been.
He abandoned the convictions he had built over a lifetime, discarded his values, and researched ways to defy providence—ways to achieve immortality and resurrection.
The Alchemist of the Rose became a madman.
Yet, at the same time, he did not cross the final line.
While most madmen sacrifice anything and everything for their goals, he did not.
His goal was to bring his lover back to life. For her to be truly alive and smile at him again, everything she loved had to remain exactly as it was.
He loved the people she had loved and sought to protect.
He struggled not to lose the version of himself that she had loved.
To an observer, it might have seemed like a half-hearted madness, but it wasn’t.
He was a true madman.
It was only because of his fanatical belief that his precious person would surely be resurrected—because of his arrogant confidence that he could bring her back—that he was able to maintain everything even through failure.
He did it all so that when his beloved returned, he could greet her with the same smile.
So that she wouldn’t be disappointed by a version of him that had changed.
Most people would have despaired halfway through. They would have failed and turned to the dark arts, or simply given up.
But he was far too extraordinary to meet the same end as such commoners.
Through countless attempts, he created research results that could only be described as feats of legend.
He created things dubbed “taboo” without actually violating the taboos themselves.
The Philosopher’s Stone—an alchemical treasure usually created using the souls and flesh of living humans as ingredients.
He succeeded in creating it using plants.
He intended to use this treasure, which ignored the alchemical law of equivalent exchange, to revive her. However, a single power that defied providence was not enough to bring back a lover who had already been dead for years.
Next, he created the Elixir. A special draught made by refining the fruit of the World Tree, which was said to heal all wounds.
But this, too, was not something that could bring his lover back to life.
He knew that.
Ultimately, it was merely something he made so that he would never lose her again once she was revived.
And after countless challenges, he finally created a Homunculus—an artificial human.
He didn’t intend to settle for a substitute.
If there truly was no way to fully restore her, he planned to prepare a body, open the Gate of the Underworld, and summon her soul.
Other alchemists thought he had gone completely insane.
To those who worshipped technology, concepts like the Underworld were nothing more than superstition.
But through his innate talent and acquired madness, he finally forced the Gate of the Underworld open.
And he wished for his lover.
He made a wish to the entity watching him from beyond the gate.
Thus, the alchemist who had achieved so much and lived for the sake of others crossed the line he had never wanted to cross—against his own will.
For the God who ruled the Underworld in his world was not of a gentle temperament.
At the cost of countless other lives, he finally reclaimed her soul.
Just the soul, that is.
I looked at the Homunculus that likely contained his lover’s soul.
Floating inside a massive, transparent test tube, she looked like a beautiful doll, but she was undoubtedly a living person.
I approached her, carefully avoiding traps and things I shouldn’t touch.
There is a term, Hon-baek.
It refers to the parts of a person that, upon death, rise to the heavens and sink into the earth.
It means a person’s spirit divides after death. To put it simply, the Hon—the soul—does not contain the memories or information from when they were alive.
What he had reclaimed at the cost of his convictions…
Was not her.
She had the exact same appearance, voice, and soul, but her mind held no memories, her body had no experience, and above all, there was no emotion in the eyes that looked at him.
That was why he despaired and took his own life.
“Seriously, this guy is my friend, but what kind of lunatic attaches such a grand backstory to a one-off dungeon? Psycho.”
In the original story, this Homunculus isn’t even discovered.
Arcadia, who originally takes the rewards here, never found the secret room.
Then why the hell did he even write it in the Setting Book?
If it were a fortuitous encounter for Lilac to take later, like the Will of the Saint, I could understand, but that didn’t seem to be the case either.
As I calmly bypassed all the traps and approached her, a hint of surprise flickered across the Homunculus’s face.
…She simply lacked memories; she was a being close to a real human with a soul of her own.
It wasn’t that she was devoid of emotion.
How had she felt, enduring all this time alone in this treasury?
All she could do was use her imprinted memories to understand the structure of this place and dwell on those memories while waiting for a guest who might one day arrive.
Since her birth, she had seen only one person.
He was her everything because he had brought her into the world, but after a moment of ecstasy, he had immediately fallen into despair. That despair turned into anger, and that anger soon became emptiness, swallowing his very life.
What did I, the second human she had ever met in her life, mean to her?
I didn’t know because such details weren’t in the Setting Book, but I dared to guess it wasn’t a simple emotion.
When I finally reached her, she fell silent.
I reached out and picked up the bottle… next to the test tube she was trapped in.
-…?
“Ah, I need to pack what I need to pack. If I rescue you first, this place will collapse.”
-Ah, yes. That is true. No, I see.
She looked a bit slighted, but what could I do? I had to take my share.
When I opened the bottle, a sweet floral scent wafted out.
The Elixir.
A supreme spirit medicine that could save anyone who wasn’t already dead and easily heal almost any internal injury.
The miracle potion he had created while praying for his beloved was no ordinary Elixir.
I swallowed the medicine before its potency could dissipate, and a smooth flavor spread through my throat and into my body.
Up until now, I had managed to recover and drag this trash body along through training, but that didn’t mean it was fully healed.
My musculoskeletal structure, twisted as a result of using excessive Innate True Qi as a child, remained the same. Even using Reinforcement during training hadn’t yielded great results.
But from now on, it would be different.
My heart thundered.
The moment I felt the liquid slide down my throat, its medicinal properties surged through my entire body, taking effect.
If it were a simple Elixir, it would have ended with my twisted bones being realigned and my illnesses or wounds vanishing. But not this medicine.
It was a supreme masterpiece, researched and refined by a genius to ensure she would be in peak condition under any circumstances.
In an instant, a refreshing pleasure, akin to the pain of bones snapping back into place, spread through my entire body.
[You have consumed a spirit medicine created with talent that reached the heavens.]
[All impurities in your body are eliminated.]
[Mana circulation speed increases.]
[All physical abnormalities are healed.]
“Oh.”
I gave a light experimental punch.
It was light.
I felt my body become even lighter than when I had recovered my Innate True Qi.
“Now, next…”
This time, I took the Philosopher’s Stone from the jewelry box kept on the opposite side.
Unlike the cursed Philosopher’s Stone that the Twelve Zodiacs used to deceive Park A-ram in the original story, this was a beautiful stone containing nothing but pure wishes.
With this, I had gathered everything I needed.
Finally, I looked at the test tube.
A beautiful woman with red hair.
I wasn’t sure if letting her out of here would truly be her salvation.
Since she was a discarded setting in the original, I couldn’t be sure what kind of person she would become.
Still, even if the world turned out to be more pathetic than she expected—even if she ended up disappointed and thinking it was better to live in a dream—this felt like the right thing to do for now.
When I placed my hand on the test tube, it began to crack and break even without me applying force.
-Ah.
Well, the world is a bit of a shitty place to live peacefully, but I’m going to try and fix it somehow, so let’s get out and think about it then.
And while we’re at it, it’d be even better if you helped me out a bit.
Oh, right. I should say that.
“Since I’m the one who rescued you, does that mean we’re secret friends now?”
The test tube shattered completely, the liquid inside splashing everywhere. The woman, who had been closing her eyes, opened them and looked at me.
My gaze met red pupils that perfectly matched her hair.
“Ah.”
Though her knowledge was imprinted, she possessed intellect and common sense.
She was likely just struggling to speak because it had been so long since she’d seen another person and she was nervous.
I am a considerate man.
So, I could wait for the precious first words she would speak with her own mouth before the collapse began.
“Yes, let’s do it. Secret friends.”
Oh, I’m glad I got a positive response.
“My…”
Hm?
“Master.”
…No, wait, I didn’t mean that kind of secret friend.
* * *
The first person she met inside the test tube.
Thanks to the knowledge imprinted in her mind from birth, she knew he was her creator.
He, who had initially worn an expression full of ecstasy, soon fell into despair, then anger, and finally gave up on her.
She had been alive for only a few seconds.
Nevertheless, possessing more vast knowledge than most people, she was able to understand immediately upon meeting his gaze.
I am a failure, and I am not the one he wanted.
Something is fundamentally wrong.
It was a memory from a very long time ago, but she still vividly remembered the words he said when he faced her.
— It is not your fault.
— Yes, if anything, it is mine.
— It breaks my heart that I can do nothing for you, but I can no longer bear to endure.
— When I think that everything I have done until now was in vain, I simply do not have the strength to try again.
What should she have said?
She had the knowledge that she should offer comfort, but because she had just been born, she didn’t know how to use her body or how to properly settle her knowledge.
— Since I created you using her soul, perhaps you could be considered our daughter?
The madman, who had reached his limit, smiled brightly as he wept.
— I am sorry. I am so sorry for bringing you into the world like this. I am sorry I cannot stay with you.
Sobbing, he swallowed the reagent in his hand.
The moment she understood that it would lead him to his death, her heart felt as if it were being torn apart.
That was the end of the first human she had ever met.
Since then, no one had visited this place.
All she could do was organize her knowledge and fantasize.
Would the day ever come when she met another person?
If she left this place, would there really be someone out there?
Could she really trust that all the knowledge she was born with was correct?
In a life of endless doubt where she wasn’t even permitted to end things herself, she began a certain game.
It was a hobby of imagining the appearance of a guest who might one day visit and imagining conversations with them.
What would they look like?
For what purpose would they come here?
Would they be male or female?
Based on the knowledge she possessed and the information she gathered from the treasury afterward…
If it was a man, “Master.”
If it was a woman, “Mistress.”
It wasn’t difficult to conclude that these titles would be the easiest way to show favor.
In the books found within the library marked as “Forbidden Books,” there were almost no men who disliked being called “Master.”
Similarly, whenever a character appeared who called a woman “Mistress,” descriptions of blushing faces and descriptions of reproduction usually followed shortly after.
However…
Looking at the expression of the guest who had finally arrived, she began to think that perhaps her knowledge was a bit flawed.
He had clearly asked to be secret friends, but did he not mean it in that way?