Antidote Stability and the Chief Inquisitor's Dread
In the worst case, Arienael's antidote production was far more stable than the stamina potion from before. At the very least, she tried to follow the recipe to the letter without any eyeballing. Even the spirits seemed far more diligent than the other day. The sight of the elf with drooping ears and dulled eyes in her pupils must have tugged at their hearts too. Should've done that from the start, you little shits.
Thanks to using Arienael's experiment as an excuse with the department, I managed to snag a good amount of basic materials. I couldn't get the rare stuff or catalysts with fixed quantities, but I secured enough main and auxiliary ingredients for another round of the same experiment. No matter how stingy the department was acting, they wouldn't nickel-and-dime us over this much.
"Should I pick out the best materials and stockpile them?"
It tempted me for a second, but it didn't seem like a good idea. "Nah. We have to compare against the low-grade stuff anyway. Can't do a proper comparison experiment with only top-shelf ingredients."
"Are we doing the same experiment with the antidote too?"
"I'll decide later. For now, the next experiment is the same stamina recovery potion."
"Exactly like last time?"
"This time, we need solid variable control. So ditch all the tricky ingredients. The plant materials in it were four main ones, right? Red herb, reddish-brown mushroom, absorption grass, and swamp fern?"
"Were those the names? Yeah, pretty much."
"Some have longer names, but that's what people usually call them. We'll test them one by one. We need to figure out which of those four boosts the potion's stability."
"One by one?"
Arienael whined, but I brushed it off lightly and kept going. "All four probably contribute to the stability. But that's not good enough. We need to clarify each one's impact. My guess is the main ingredient, the red herb, or the swamp fern for mana stabilization."
"Should we start with those?"
"We'll test all four kinds no matter what. Pick whichever for first."
"We have to do all of them? Once each?"
"Three times each."
No escaping it. For paper-worthy data, three reps weren't even enough. "That's twelve already."
"Fifteen. We need a control group with no tweaks."
Arienael made a choking sound. She'd gotten whinier lately. Back when I was a master's student, stuff like this didn't even faze me.
"Anyway, wrap up the antidote like that. Luckily, it finished in one go."
"Three times..."
"That's just the reps."
"No, earlier you said... Anyway. You're not running the antidote through the mana circuits like the last stamina potion, right?"
"That was just the simplest analysis available—stability check. But luckily, we have a better method here. And since we're showing results in just two days, no need for separate stability verification."
"That's convenient, yeah."
It wasn't just skipping one experiment. Pumping mana into circuits while timing it was a hassle, but prepping the alchemy table, testing circuits, trial runs, and carefully pouring in the potion was no joke either. Cleanup afterward got simpler too, obviously.
"So that's all for evaluation criteria?"
"For now. But expect deductions in the details."
"Like what?"
"Why ask? Planning to grade it yourself?"
"You're having me grade the reports anyway, right?"
"Yeah, I'll tell you those. What I meant was supervising the experiment process."
"Fine, whatever."
Look at her dodging work the second I assign it. Grad students are hopeless no matter how nice you are to them.
As she grumbled briefly, the dean's meeting popped into my head. "By the way, besides herbs, do you know other plants well?"
"'Cause I'm an elf? Better than humans, sure."
"Not forest plants. Like wheat or barley."
"Why? Thinking of farming?"
"Not joking."
Arienael tilted her head, clearly puzzled why I'd suddenly care about farming. "Better ask a human for that. That's one of the few areas where elves lag behind in botany. We don't cram plants into tight spaces like that."
"Real cruel to the plants, huh. That's why we eat meat. Being born and raised just to get eaten is sad enough, but in such inhumane growth conditions!"
"Wait, why'd the conversation go there?"
It was a joke. Ever since explaining the project to that inquisitor, farming made my skin crawl.
"When's the stamina potion experiment due?"
"Hand it in with the Wednesday class materials."
"By Monday too?"
"Afternoon's fine."
"Professor!"
I almost scolded her for yelling again, but her voice was so desperate I held back. "Fifteen potion brews, class materials prep, two reports! Plus grading the lab class?"
"Fifteen brews sounds like a lot, but three a day over five days. Class materials are weekly routine, grading doesn't take long. Can't handle that in five days? I was gonna give you more papers too."
"It's three days, not five!"
"Oh, that inflexible?"
"You call this flexibility?"
"Fine. Skip the full report this time—just a summary. Was gonna make you practice report writing, but if you hate it that much, whatever."
"Thank you for understanding."
"But report results right away. No report means it won't take long."
She said thanks, but spat out the last part like it was poison. Lucky her to have such a generous advisor.
The next day, Arienael showed up to report results in the evening. After drafting the project proposal for the university and doing my research, time had flown by unnoticed.
"Later than expected. Can't take that long for three brews."
"...I did six."
She's growing, Arienael! Who mentored her to improve this fast? Me? Gotta be me.
"Two groups then. How'd it go?"
"One control, one red herb."
"Control turn out good?"
"All between 10 and 11 minutes."
"Specifically?"
"10:10, 10:30, 10:50."
Arienael read from her notes. Times in 10-second units because we used a sand timer with markings, not a stopwatch. Acceptable variance.
"Good. And the herb?"
"Same. A bit higher."
"How much?"
"10:40, 11:00, 11:30."
"That's no real difference. Thought it had the best shot, but nope."
"Average is over 30 seconds longer though?"
"Let me see your data. With that variance, you can't claim superiority on that margin. Could just be random."
"No way. Totally no benefit?"
"If ten more reps show similar variance and average, maybe worth considering."
"...I'll test the other groups first."
"Yeah. Good work."
That herb's the most-used ingredient. Arienael grabbed it first last experiment, so high hopes. Even if we pinpoint the cause, mountains of tests ahead—delays at step one suck. Hope one of the remaining three's the answer.
If testing all four yields nothing, it'll be rough. Could be multiple factors combining or insufficient reps. Worst case, both. Fingers crossed not.
Prudence was currently at the Apis Church Inquisition office in Rainplan territory—her actual affiliation. No massive goddess statue since it wasn't for worship, but anyone could tell it was religious. The hexagonal tiles covering floor and walls without gaps.
Feeling her faith in the goddess deepen further, Prudence headed to the chief inquisitor's room. Even the room was hexagonal. The stern, strict-faced chief sat with an oddly anxious expression.
"Good day. Prudence from the Traperon outpost."
"Come in. I've been waiting."
Prudence had already reported the Atwill professor's project proposal verbally at the Traperon university outpost. Now, before sending to the Papal Court, she needed the chief's approval. Inquisition matters were ultra-sensitive, so letters rarely detailed them. The chief only got a formal note: 'Matter requiring urgent report to Papal Court.' Details orally from the handler, Prudence.
A Papal Court report. Had to be major. And urgent? Definitely bad news.
"A matter for the Papal Court, Prudence?"
"Yes."
What the hell could it be? Traperon outpost made him more uneasy, but Prudence's face wasn't that dark. Maybe not that serious.
Well, an outpost on campus doesn't mean it's university business.
Clinging to faint hope, the chief started with milder possibilities. "Dragon activity around the territory?"
"No. Human, not demihuman."
The chief grew more uneasy. "Heretic remnants found? Plotting something?"
"No. Traperon University matter. Research issue."
The chief gave up escapism and faced reality. No point ruling out the worst—he'd thought of it first, and odds were highest. Most vicious kind.
"Professor Atwill, then."
"Yes."
"Has Roger Atwill finally created a death spell?"
Prudence had expected this. If she hadn't seen Atwill's true face, she'd think the same in the chief's shoes. But the chief's reaction was more intense.
"No, not that."
"Summoned a demon... no, a demon god ritual?"
"Nothing like that. He's for farmers, so crops..."
"Plague?"
"No. Just hear me out. So..."
"Something more horrific? Goddess preserve us..."
The chief took Prudence's calm as resigned despair, nearly convulsing. Prudence wondered where to start clearing the misunderstanding.