Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Parasite
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The apprentice sat blankly on the bench.
It was because the research materials she had submitted to the Mage Tower as the fruits of her semester's golden term had been outright rejected, not even put on hold.
"Scholarship completely revoked... promotion on hold... personal lab application on hold..."
A torrent of horrifying thoughts flooded the alchemist's mind.
"I saw your research materials."
"...Pardon?"
It was then that someone approached and suddenly spoke to her.
"A hostile understanding of black magic from an alchemical perspective. It was intriguing. Challenging. And that's why it got rejected."
"..."
"The Mage Tower is more progressive than any other group, but at the same time, more conservative than any other. You must never cross the line they've drawn."
"...Master. What business do you have with me?"
She was none other than the Master of the Gray Tower. A being leagues above the apprentice.
The one who evaluated and judged apprentices.
Even though the Master had personally shown interest, the apprentice responded curtly.
From the atmosphere, it seemed she intended to offer advice under the guise of counsel and guidance, but in the current situation, it would only be like rubbing salt in the wound.
"Let's say I felt a sense of kinship."
"...Kinship?"
Me, the same as you? Just where exactly are we the same?
The apprentice struggled to hide her displeasure.
"I wanted to pass your research materials. But the other Masters vehemently opposed it. They said leaving a bad precedent would rot the Mage Tower from within. That it would give the other students a bad influence."
"...So. What are you trying to say? Are you here to personally tell me how my research was dismissed by the Masters I respect?"
"I told you. I felt a sense of kinship. The truth is, I went through the same thing as you."
The apprentice sneered inwardly at her.
The same thing? How brazenly she says it with such conviction. It's disgusting.
What does a person like you know?
Unaware of the apprentice's inner thoughts, the Master continued with what she had to say.
"I didn't know at the time, but I found out later. When I underwent the tower entry exam, the same conversation happened at the top echelons of the Mage Tower. Voices opposed it, saying someone like me would have a long-term negative impact on the tower if we set a bad precedent."
"...But you're here now."
"Right. It's not in the records, but apparently someone there raised their voice in support."
"So, you being part of the Mage Tower is essentially thanks to that person. Who was it?"
"I wanted to know too. But I never found out. The Mage Tower accepted me, but didn't fully acknowledge me. They didn't record the meeting where they discussed me. So they could make it as if it never happened anytime."
The apprentice lifted her bowed head and looked up at the Master.
The Master nodded and continued the story.
"It's the same now. Formally, I'm a Master of the Mage Tower, but I'm not listed in the roster. But as you said, I'm here. People don't acknowledge me, but they can't deny me either. All of that is because I was given a chance. A chance to prove myself. And that chance existed because—"
"Someone unknown raised their voice for you."
"Exactly."
The Master extended her hand to the apprentice.
"I want to give that chance to someone else too."
"..."
The apprentice lowered her head again, revealing her emotions where the Master couldn't see.
It was the vile smirk of a hunter who had spotted her prey.
Apprentice Tulran.
She composed her expression. The vile hunter instantly transformed into a moved apprentice.
Tulran grasped the Master's outstretched hand and said,
"I won't disappoint you. Master Didoa."
A hostile understanding of black magic from an alchemical perspective.
The reason the Mage Tower rejected Tulran's research was obvious. There was no guarantee her research wouldn't stray from the 'proper path'.
Those who wield impure powers weren't placed above the apostles from the start.
Even those who walked the righteous path could stray and lose themselves if careless.
The Mage Tower's judgment was reasonable—
And if one had to point fingers at right and wrong, the one who made the wrong judgment would be Didoa.
Didoa knew it too.
That her judgment wasn't rational.
Yet she made a decision against reason because, simply put, her emotions got the better of her.
Didoa had lived her entire life persecuted as a half-demon.
If there was the most important event in her life, it was undoubtedly passing the tower entry exam.
That one acknowledgment turned a mere half-demon like her into a Master of the Mage Tower.
If not for that, she would have ended up on the city's outskirts brewing drugs.
Didoa had never forgotten that fact. That's why she had always yearned for it.
To one day become someone who could give others such a chance.
Thus, Didoa vowed.
No matter what, she alone would believe in Tulran.
"Stupid bitch. A half-demon like you dares pity me? Fine. Pity me all you want."
And so, the chance Didoa gave became an unparalleled opportunity for Tulran.
Didoa, persecuted her whole life as a half-demon, was clumsy at dealing with people.
"Miss Didoa— Ah! Sorry. You just feel so approachable... Huh? It's okay to call you that when we're alone? I'm so happy!"
Tulran didn't miss the openings in Didoa's heart and thoroughly wormed her way in.
"Your teaching assistant... I'll do my best!"
Didoa granted Tulran authority beyond a mere assistant, and Tulran exploited it thoroughly.
She interacted with the Mage Tower's people in Didoa's name.
She freely used the Mage Tower's research materials in Didoa's name.
She conducted research in Didoa's name.
She filled Didoa's surroundings with her own traces.
"Tulran? It feels like the chair at my spot has been changed."
"Ah! Right! I changed it!"
"Why?"
"I sat in it and it was so uncomfortable! You know it's all for you, right, Didoa?"
"...Yes."
At some point, Didoa realized there were more of Tulran's things than her own in her lab.
"How could you do this to me?"
"Tulran—"
"Forget it! If you don't allow this, I'm quitting as assistant."
"...This is really the last time."
"Really!? Thank you, Didoa! You're the only one for me!"
Clumsy at dealing with people, Didoa grew through her relationship with Tulran and realized.
That under the name of understanding, she had permitted too much to Tulran.
To Tulran, she wasn't an understanding ally, a friend, or anything.
She was merely an object of exploitation.
Didoa tried to correct it belatedly.
But by the time she realized the problem, it was far too late.
"Didoa. Is that how you talk to Master Tulran?"
It was the response from the apprentices around Tulran when Didoa tried to speak to her.
"...Apprentice. What nonsense are you spouting? Master Tulran? Tulran. Care to explain?"
"You filthy half-demon bitch!"
One apprentice shoved Didoa. Too flustered, Didoa couldn't react and fell over.
Tulran looked down at her coldly and said,
"Didoa. I clearly told you to restrain yourself when others are around."
"...Tulran?"
"Looks like I've been too lenient with you. Didoa. You're confined for a week. Use that time to reflect."
The demon follower's power from the demon, 'Parasitizing Oblivion'.
Having met all conditions, it fully activated.
📰 [Title: So what tf is Didoa
"Rishir."
Ahem. Meltas cleared his throat in his characteristic fake cough and tapped the seat right next to him.
Rishir. Come sit here.
Rishir's brow furrowed. It was an expression of instinctive disgust he couldn't help.
"..."
Meltas began a secretive conversation with a hurt look on his face. Instead of Rishir sitting next to him, he lowered his voice volume.
"Rishir. How about reconsidering?"
"Reconsidering what?"
"What else? Entrusting the elixir to Didoa."
"Is there a problem?"
"..."
Meltas mumbled, his face saying he had a lot to say but didn't know where to start.
The public's perception of half-demons wasn't good.
They have unusually sensitive mana sensitivity and show fanatic obsession with mana!
Half-demons would devour even their own parents for their magic power!
It was the public's perception and prejudice toward demons. Most people weren't free from such biases. Meltas was no exception.
In fact, Meltas had heard unsavory rumors related to this.
Stories that Didoa was secretly siphoning various research materials from the alchemy department. And that without the protection of her supervising Master Tulran, an audit would have happened long ago.
Meltas knew too. How foolish it was to judge people based on prejudice and rumors alone. But being human, he couldn't be completely free from those two.
Three people make a tiger, as they say. Numerous Masters and students had spoken ill of Didoa in front of Meltas.
Meltas tried his best to stay neutral as he spoke.
"On second thought, I think I misspoke earlier. What I meant by any skilled alchemist is fine was with Tulran as the benchmark. I think it would be better to seek help from other Masters—"
Meltas stopped mid-sentence and turned his gaze in the same direction as Rishir.
There was Didoa, pressing her palm to her ear to amplify(?) the sounds around her.
She was eavesdropping on their secretive conversation. Her clumsy attempt looked more like play-acting at spying.
"Didoa. What are you doing?"
"I was curious what you two were talking about."
Perhaps because of her consistently emotionless expression and tone.
Her odd behavior left room for various interpretations.
"..."
Meltas felt embarrassed, interpreting her action as mocking his own behavior.
It felt like she'd caught him voicing negative opinions about her behind her back.
"My elixir must be quite top-quality. We were discussing how it might be best to consume it under optimal conditions."
Rishir saw her action as a playful expression of dissatisfaction.
Let me in too.
He could almost hear Didoa saying that in her characteristic emotionless tone and expression.
"How top-quality is it? You've piqued my curiosity. Mind if I take a look, if possible?"
"Here."
Ah. Uh.
Meltas was briefly shocked at Rishir casually handing the elixir to Didoa but ultimately decided to respect his judgment.
No matter what, she's 'Master Tulran's' assistant—would she try anything in front of another Master?
"Let me see."
Instead of taking the elixir, Didoa clasped her hands behind her back and leaned her upper body forward. She adjusted her head position to observe the elixir in Rishir's hand.
"That's an unusual way to observe. Is that one of alchemy's techniques too?"
"No. I thought you'd be displeased if my touch tainted such a precious elixir."
"?"
Rishir suddenly felt the essence of empathy.
Is this how people feel when I make bastard jokes?
Rishir didn't press Didoa when she declined. Instead, he moved the elixir around to make it easier for her to observe.
"Hoo."
Didoa let out a small exclamation after a brief observation.
Her expression and tone were the same, but that was her way of showing surprise.
"It's the work of Gosrarta alchemists. As you said, an incredible top-quality item."
"Gosrarta...? You can tell just by looking?"
Rishir examined the elixir from various angles like Didoa. To his eyes, it was just a transparent liquid in a vial with no distinguishing features.
"Rub the neck of the vial carefully. You'll feel fine embossing."
"...Oh, definitely—"
"Gedrassa."
"Gedrassa?"
"It's a secret technique where Gosrarta sorcerers incorporate the container itself into the alchemy process for storing solutions."
"Uh..."
"To put it simply, it's not just the contents—the vial itself is part of the elixir."
"Is that good?"
"Gedrassa is one of the highest known reagent crafting methods. Even with the same materials, making an elixir with Gedrassa elevates its efficacy by at least a grade."
"Sorcerers' technique?"
Meltas asked with a dubious expression. Didoa straightened her upper body and continued.
"Conversely, that's exactly why it's a sorcerers' technique."
"Explain in detail."
"Black magic, necromancy, spirit arts, sorcery. To sorcerers, they're all just forms of sorcery. In fact, aside from wizards who strive to stick to the righteous path, everyone is like that. Their boundaries between powers are blurry, so they have no qualms wielding other forces."
Didoa gestured toward the elixir.
"Gedrassa reinterprets alchemy as sorcery and infuses it with black magic principles. It's a technique that minimizes inevitable component loss in the process by substituting the creator's life force."
"...!"
The true nature of my lovely elixir?
Rishir startled and checked the elixir.
Didoa's explanation continued.
"That's why elixirs made with Gedrassa have high utility but struggle for full recognition. Since they contain black magic power, improper consumption could cause mana corruption."
"Is my elixir safe?"
Rishir asked worriedly.
"That's what I was about to say— in that regard, your elixir is top-quality among top-quality."
"Pardon?"
"You can't feel the chronic flaw of Gedrassa, the black magic aura, in your elixir."
Rishir had been thinking the same.
Huh? If it had black magic aura, I should've sensed it ages ago.
"Probably removed the black magic power through additional processing— amazing. That it's possible. And that they actually did it."
Rishir suddenly recalled when Pamon first handed him the elixir.
Come to think of it, his hand stung a bit then—
"One misstep and not only would the elixir's power corrupt, but the corrupted power entering the body would upheave your mana. Only a maniac with nothing but alchemy in their head could pull it off. As a fellow alchemist, I feel awe. Do you know this alchemist? I'd love to meet them and exchange knowledge if possible."
"Perhaps I did it myself."
Didoa pondered briefly, then—"Ha."—one corner of her mouth twitched unnaturally upward.
"Fun. I'm not good with jokes, but yours always land well."
It looked sarcastic at first glance, but Didoa was genuinely enjoying it.
Not the joke itself, but the situation of Rishir joking with her.
So Rishir, instead of refuting, said to Didoa,
"You seem extremely knowledgeable in this field. So, Miss Didoa. Could I ask you to assist with the elixir consumption?"
"You mean have me analyze the elixir's components directly and give my assessment?"
"Yes."
"You sure?"
Before answering, Rishir looked around.
Tulran the alchemist's lab interior.
The traces of someone felt everywhere inside the lab.
He nodded.
Rishir's resolve strengthened.
Better to ask the Didoa in front of him than that Tulran.
"Yes. I ask you."
"Shouldn't you ask Master Meltas's opinion?"
"To be honest, I'm shocked. Didoa, I didn't know your insight ran that deep. I can't understand why Master Tulran speaks so ill of you."
"Master Tulran seems like a strange person."
"Hey now. What do you mean by that, Rishir."
"..."
Didoa's consistently emotionless expression wavered.
"Rishir..."
It was the moment she cautiously opened her mouth.
Someone opened the lab door and entered.
Master Tulran and her follower apprentices.
"Didoa. Bringing guests into my lab without permission— ...Master Meltas!"
Tulran was about to sternly scold Didoa but spotted Meltas and switched to a friendly smile.
"What brings you here unannounced!"
"Ah. Well, I was about to ask you to assist with elixir consumption. By the way, didn't you say you'd return around sunset today?"
"Pardon? Me?"
"Didoa said so."
"..."
Tulran openly showed embarrassment.
That was enough.
Meltas and the apprentices shot unkind glances at Didoa.
Ahem.
Meltas said,
"Actually, since you were absent, we were just about to ask Didoa to assist with the elixir in your stead."
"To Didoa, who lied about me being late... What did Didoa say?"
"She expressed willingness to help positively, for starters."
"Didoa..."
Tulran maintained her affable smile.
That action only sharpened the glances toward Didoa.
"That half-demon bitch embarrassing Master Tulran again..."
One apprentice muttered.
Didoa fidgeted restlessly.
Her first action was to check Rishir's reaction.
"..."
Had he taken offense toward her as per Tulran's intended implication?
His previously gentle expression had stiffened.
"Ah."
The feeling of her last narrow foothold crumbling. Didoa bowed her head.
For a brief moment, she'd felt free from this horrific nightmare.
For a brief moment, the man who let her dream had become part of the nightmare.
The anxiety she'd briefly forgotten through meeting Rishir took solid form again.
I. I won't escape this nightmare.
The faint light in Didoa's emotionless eyes dimmed further.
It was the moment she was about to mutter some incantation through gritted teeth.
"Lord Meltas?"
Rishir whispered something into Meltas's ear.
"...!"
Meltas recoiled in shock and asked Rishir back.
"Is that true?"
"Yes. I swear on my power."
"...I see."
They exchanged a few more words, and suddenly the atmosphere shifted dramatically.
"Meltas...?"
Tulran was bewildered.
Suddenly, Master Meltas was showing hostility toward her.
"Master Tulran."
At that moment, a man she'd never seen held out a vial to Tulran and spoke.
"Do you know what this is?"
"It's an elixir, right? Ah, are you the owner of the elixir Master Meltas mentioned? We haven't met before—shall we introduce ourselves?"
Tulran responded with a smile that naturally evoked goodwill.
Rishir nodded and said,
"Sorry, but could we have your assistant, Miss Didoa, assist with the elixir consumption?"
"What?"
A crack appeared in Tulran's affable expression.