The Schnabel Formula

The laboratory was left in silence. Grand Sage Louis Adelhart watched the door through which Julian had just departed. 'The more I see of this child's talent, the more it transcends wonder and enters the realm of the terrifying.'

His attitude toward learning. His guardedness against arrogance. His observational skills, which hungered for the truth. He possessed every quality Louis deemed essential for a genius. And over the past three years, the boy had proven that genius once more, absorbing every scrap of dark magic knowledge the Grand Sage had accumulated over a lifetime like a sponge.

'To think a child could be so perfectly suited for dark magic….'

Every mage is born with an 'aptitude attribute.' It isn't that a mage specializing in fire magic is inherently weak in water magic; it is simply that the laws and theories governing the two realms are so vastly different that they hit a cognitive wall, making it difficult to master multiple branches. In terms Julian might use, it would be like a mechanical engineer specializing in thermodynamics trying to master fluid dynamics—their brain would simply explode.

For this reason, most mages choose a single path to pursue for their entire lives. They select the magic that feels most intuitive to their own mind. That is what is called choosing one's 'aptitude.' And in Louis's view, Julian's aptitude for dark magic was incomparable to any other existence. He could say it with certainty: even that Elder ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lich, known as the King of Dark Magic, would not show as much aptitude as Julian.

'He has already surpassed me in the realm of dark magic.'

Of course, in terms of pure mana or rank, Louis was overwhelmingly superior. But when it came to the theory of dark magic, Julian was already standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the Grand Sage himself. And when that was combined with Julian's bottomless knowledge of life… 'How fortunate it is that this child is good-natured.'

Dark magic is, by nature, a craft that directly interferes with life and soul. Because it strikes at the very root of life, it is far more difficult to counter than other forms of magic, and the results are overwhelmingly lethal. Most dangerous of all, a moment of misguided curiosity or a single slip could cause the caster's mind to fall into instant corruption. The sense of depravity that comes from manipulating human life was that dangerous. That was the very reason Louis, despite having founded dark magic a thousand years ago, had been extremely cautious and kept it taboo to teach or deeply research it among other mages.

But with Julian, Louis could pour out all that forbidden knowledge without a shred of hesitation. In the eyes of this child he had watched over the years, there was no malice to trample others, nor any arrogant lust for power. Only a pure, unwavering tenacity to save the people at the bottom of society remained, leaving no room for the temptations of dark magic to take root.

Furthermore, ironically, Julian lacked the traditional 'talent as a mage' to a miserable degree. Even if he were to awaken to the essence of all dark magic, he lacked the mana and talent to stand on a battlefield and cast wide-area curses upon tens of thousands. There was zero risk of him becoming a mass murderer. For a master, could there be a more perfect and safe successor?

'Of course, there is one more fortunate thing.' Louis thought of Julian's handsome face and let out a secret sigh of relief. Among the three branches of dark magic, there was hypnosis—the art of insulting and manipulating the minds of others. If Julian, with that face, had an aptitude for hypnosis… 'No woman in the world would have been able to resist him.' Or perhaps, depending on the circumstances, even men….

Fortunately, Julian showed not a shred of talent or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠interest in hypnosis. If he had shown even the slightest aptitude for it, Louis would have seriously considered erasing his disciple's memories. '…No, that’s an overactive imagination.' Louis let out a dry laugh and shook his head.

As Louis Adelhart tidied up his lab, lost in thoughts of his disciple, his gaze fell upon the egg that had been the subject of his successful experiment. He picked it up and peered at it once more. The blood vessels stretching across the transparent chorioallantoic membrane. The white spots blooming upon them. A trace of a curse that was alive, yet not diseased.

"…." A smile spread across Louis's lips. 'Does that child realize the weight of this egg?' To Louis, Julian seemed to be rejoicing purely because he had found a medicine to stop the Blister Plague. Of course, that alone was a monumental achievement. The Southern Fever—the vicious disease recently named 'malaria'—couldn't even hold a candle to this Blister Plague. This plague had been the most horrific disease to claim the most human lives since the Grand Sage had been alive.

'I, too, had to have my arm cut off because of this.' The Grand Sage had not been able to avoid this disease during his long years. Blisters starting from the arm and rising to the face. To stop it, he had cut off his arm and restored it with holy magic. He had been one of the lucky ones. Usually, it started on the face, not the arm. 'Come to think of it, I haven't caught this disease even once since then…. Why didn't I notice that?' His face burned with the thought that he had wasted his years. Yet Julian had not overlooked that obvious experience and had finally achieved a great discovery that would save humanity.

'This won't just end with the Blister Plague.' Louis looked down at the magic formula written on the parchment.

The Grand Sage's eyebrows trembled as he looked down at it. This formula didn't just apply to the Blister Plague. The Red Death. The Black Plague. The Curse of Rot. Bone-Melting. All the various plagues that periodically swept through the Empire inside the walls, killing hundreds of thousands. This formula could be applied to all of them. Of course, the specific conditions would have to be changed for each, but it was self-evident that this formula would serve as the foundational framework.

'…The era of plagues is coming to an end.' In his thousand years of life, he had seen countless discoveries. Methods for refining mana crystals. Spatial leap magic. Life-extension rituals. But this was a discovery that could stand alongside all of them. It was a discovery that went beyond the history of magic and would change the history of humanity.

'I must let that child know how great a discovery this is.' Over the past three years, observing the boy named Julian, the Grand Sage felt he knew what kind of child he was. A child who didn't know the word 'arrogance' would surely not realize the full impact of this discovery. Even if someone were to praise him by inflating his ego, he would likely not recognize his own greatness even by a fingernail's breadth. So, as his master, the Grand Sage intended to personally inform Julian of his greatness whenever he had the chance.

Just as he was thinking this, Julian returned to the lab after finishing his conversation with Wangcho. Louis immediately explained the greatness of the discovery to Julian. "I see." As expected, Julian's reaction was calm. It was clear he understood with his head. He seemed well aware of how much of a ripple this discovery would cause. He was simply guarding against arrogance, refusing to purely accept it as his own.

'Ha… as expected….' But the slightly upturned corners of his mouth told Louis that Julian was, at least a little, realizing the magnitude of his achievement. That, at least, was a comfort to Louis. It was proof that his disciple's self-esteem hadn't been completely shattered.

After the praise session for Julian ended, Louis suddenly remembered one fact. "Julian."

"Yes, Master."

"Do you have any intention of formally registering this magic formula… or did you call it a 'vaccine'?—with the Mage Tower Union and the Imperial Patent Office?"

"A patent, you say?" Julian tilted his head.

Louis added an explanation in a serious voice. "Originally, magic formulas are personal achievements and there is no obligation to share them, but for great formulas that serve the public interest, the Empire guarantees a patent to grant the original author exclusive rights."

"…."

"If you use my name, the Imperial Court will find it difficult to refuse. If you wish, I will help you secure the exclusive rights to this formula."

Julian was silent for a moment. Louis took that silence for contemplation. 'Is he hesitating?' In fact, Julian was already wealthy enough. This was a fact Louis knew well. Over the past three years, Julian had introduced other medicines to the world from time to time. But the patent for this 'vaccine manufacturing formula' was on a different level.

The moment this formula was made public, lords across the Empire and royals of neighboring countries would gladly offer money to protect their families from plagues. A magic tool that prevents poisoning alone is worth one or two mansions. If it were a medicine that prevented plagues for a lifetime, they would gladly pay the cost of a castle. If that happened, it would be a matter of moments before Julian amassed wealth that surpassed even the Grand Duchies. 'No. Perhaps he could even stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Golden Emperors….'

The richest person in the world. Who would refuse that position? That was why Louis expected his young disciple to be overjoyed or at least deeply conflicted by this immense proposal. However, Julian seemed to think for a moment, then gave an answer Louis had not anticipated.

"No. I will not file for a patent."

"…What did you say?" Louis's single eye widened in bewilderment.

"I intend to release this formula to the world unconditionally, so that all alchemical workshops and healers can use it freely, without any cost."

"W-wait, Julian. Think of the sweat and blood you poured into this for the past three years to complete this formula. The packs of rotten jackals eyeing this formula might try to steal your rights. Why are you trying to abandon such a massive reward?"

"Did you not do the same, Master?"

"…What?"

Julian smiled gently. "Back when humanity was losing its foothold to magical beasts, you organized the unknown realm of magic into an academic discipline and began teaching it to the people."

It was true. When Louis organized the concept of magic into an academic discipline, he taught the magic he had classified into 13 systems to the people. Not everyone became a mage, but thanks to that, the number of mages, which had been one in hundreds of thousands, exploded. Furthermore, magic, which had only been used to beat down low-level beasts, had grown explosively to a level where it could now handle high-level beasts. That was why the world called Louis the 'Father of Magic.' In the thousand years that had passed, despite countless magical discoveries, the reputation of the Father of Magic had never faded.

And Julian truly respected Louis for that. "I, too, wish to follow in your footsteps, Master."

"…You don't have to follow the same path as me, Julian. This is your rightful claim."

Despite the Grand Sage's persuasion, Julian simply looked at his single eye with a peaceful face. And as if he had not a shred of doubt or lingering attachment to the decision he had made, he answered with the warmest smile in the world.

"Master. Would you put a patent on the rising sun?"

The Grand Sage's breath hitched for a moment. His heart pounded wildly. This excitement. How many years had it been? "The sun is great because it shines equally on all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and nurtures life. This medicine is the same. It is only great if it becomes common."

Ah, yes. His comrades who had departed. The First Hero. The Founding King. The Mother of Fairies. Since he had sent them off, this was the first time he had felt such a thrill. "…Are you sincere?"

"Yes."

"Will you not regret it?"

"On the contrary, I think I would regret it more if I discovered this medicine but failed to save the people."

There was no wavering in Julian's voice. Louis let out a sigh. It was a long, deep sigh. "…I understand." And he chuckled. "I will respect your Idea."

Every mage is arrogant. Because to handle magic, one needs not only knowledge and talent but also one's own internal image. The landscape they imagine, the ideal they pursue. Mages call that ideal . And the Idea of his youngest disciple that the Grand Sage had glimpsed was more arrogant than he had imagined.

"If that is your Idea, then as your master, I too will release this formula to the world for free."

"Thank you, Master."

"Instead." Louis raised a finger. "I will decide the name of this formula."

"The name?"

"Yes. The name that will be passed down to future generations." Louis spread out the parchment. And he wrote one line at the top of the formula.

"…Master."

"I will not accept any counterarguments." Louis said firmly. "You don't have to file for a patent if you don't want to. But I will not tolerate the name of the person who created this formula not remaining in history."

"…."

"This is my Idea, so respect it."

"…Understood, Master."

Julian nodded with a sour expression. He looked somewhat displeased. But as his master, it was an unavoidable measure. This humble disciple didn't know how to look out for his own interests, so he had to be made to do so, even if it meant being forceful. Louis rolled up the parchment and tucked it into his robe.

"Now, let's start the next experiment. We have a long way to go."

"Yes, Master."

The Grand Sage's left eye followed the back of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠15-year-old boy's head. Along with a small wish that this little joy he had discovered in his twilight years would last forever.

*

Meanwhile, at that moment, Julian was… 'Ah, I really shouldn't have named this formula the Schnabel Formula….' He was uncomfortable with the name his master had given it. 'Think of how many more formulas and medicines I'm going to create in the future….' It wouldn't do to call them all the Schnabel Formula. If he did that, it was obvious that medical students or apprentice healers hundreds of years later would curse Julian.

— "Schnabel Formula #3? What was that again?"

— "Formula #5? No, this has nothing to do with #4! Why did they classify it like this!!!"

Julian knew better than anyone the pain of naming a disease after the scholar who discovered it. Behçet's disease, Huntington's chorea, Hodgkin's lymphoma…. That was why he had vowed that, at the very least, the diseases or formulas he discovered would not bear his own name. However, his master would not permit it.

'…I'm sorry, my future juniors.'

Anyway, this shouldn't be Julian's fault. And so, Julian vowed that he would make sure to leave the origin of the naming in the history books.