The Firefly Prince, Part 7

Left alone in his laboratory, the Great Sage, Louis, quietly stared at the door Julian had just walked through.

The more I observe this child's talent, the more it transcends wonder and borders on terrifying.

His attitude toward learning. His vigilance against arrogance. His keen observation in pursuit of truth. He perfectly possessed every quality Louis believed a genius should have. And over the past three years, the boy had proven his genius once again by absorbing like a sponge all the dark magic knowledge Louis had accumulated over a lifetime.

To think a child could have such a perfect affinity for dark magic...

By nature, every mage possessed an innate "elemental affinity."

It wasn't that a mage specializing in fire magic was inherently weak to water magic. Rather, the laws and theories governing the two domains were so vastly different that mages simply hit a cognitive wall when trying to master another branch.

To use Julian's terms for an easy analogy, it was like a mechanical engineering student majoring in thermodynamics trying to master fluid dynamics as well, only for their head to explode from the sheer cognitive overload.

For this reason, most mages chose a single path of magic to delve into for the rest of their lives—the magic that made the most intuitive sense to their minds. This was what they called choosing one's "affinity."

And as far as Louis could see, Julian's affinity for dark magic defied all comparison. He could say with absolute certainty that even the Elder Lich, hailed as the King of Dark Magic, would not possess an affinity for the dark arts as profound as Julian's.

In terms of dark magic mastery, he has already surpassed me.

Of course, in terms of raw mana and tier, Louis was still overwhelmingly superior. But when it came to the theory of dark magic alone, Julian already stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Great Sage himself. And if that were to combine with Julian's seemingly boundless knowledge of life...

How incredibly fortunate it is that this child is good.

By nature, dark magic was a discipline that directly interfered with life and the soul. Because it struck at the very core of life, it was exceptionally difficult to counter compared to other magics, and its results were overwhelmingly fatal.

Most dangerous of all was that a single slip or a lapse into morbid curiosity could instantly corrupt the caster's mind. The sense of depravity that came from playing with human lives was just that perilous.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

That was the very reason why Louis, despite founding dark magic a thousand years ago, had been extremely cautious about teaching it to other mages or researching it deeply, treating it as a taboo.

Yet, to Julian, Louis could pour out all that forbidden knowledge without a single shred of hesitation.

Throughout the years he had watched him, there was no malice to trample others or arrogant lust for power in the boy's eyes. Only a steadfast, pure obsession to save the people at the very bottom of society resided there, leaving absolutely no room for the temptations of dark magic to corrupt him.

Furthermore, in a twist of irony, Julian was disastrously lacking in traditional "talent as a magic caster."

Even if he were to master the absolute essence of dark magic, he lacked the mana and talent to march onto a battlefield and cast wide-area curses over tens of thousands of people. Thus, the risk of him falling from grace to become a mass murderer was virtually non-existent. From a mentor's perspective, could there possibly be a more perfect and safe successor?

Of course, there is one more thing to be relieved about.

Louis recalled Julian's remarkably handsome face and let out a silent sigh of relief.

Of the three branches of dark magic, there was hypnotism—the art of violating and controlling another's mind. If Julian, with a face like that, also possessed an affinity for hypnotism...

No woman in the world would have been able to resist him.

No, in some cases, perhaps not even men...

Fortunately, Julian showed not a shred of talent or interest in hypnotic magic. If he had shown even the slightest aptitude for it, Louis would have seriously contemplated erasing his disciple's memories.

...No, perhaps that imagination went a bit too far.

Louis let out a dry chuckle and shook his head.

As Louis Edelhardt tidied up the laboratory while lost in these thoughts about his disciple, his gaze suddenly fell upon the egg from their successful experiment. He picked up the egg and peered closely at it once more.

Blood vessels stretching across the transparent chorioallantoic membrane. White spots blooming upon them. A trace of a curse that was alive, yet caused no sickness.

"..."

A smile spread across Louis's lips.

I wonder if that child truly realizes the weight of this egg.

To Louis's eyes, Julian was simply rejoicing out of pure innocence—happy that he had found a medicine to prevent the blister plague. Of course, that alone was a monumental achievement.

The southern fever—the vicious disease recently dubbed "malaria"—could not even begin to compare to the blister plague. For as long as the Great Sage had lived, the blister plague had been the most horrific disease, claiming more human lives than any other.

I, too, had to sever my own arm because of it.

Even the Great Sage had not been able to escape the disease during his long life. Blisters that started on the arm and crept up toward the face. To stop its spread, the Great Sage had severed his own arm and then restored it using divine magic. He had been one of the lucky ones. Usually, the blisters started on the face, not the arm.

Come to think of it, I never contracted the disease again after that... Why did I never notice?

His face grew hot at the thought of having lived all those years in vain. Yet Julian had not overlooked that simple, obvious phenomenon, ultimately forging a great discovery that would save humanity.

This will not end with just the blister plague.

Louis looked down at the magic formula written on the parchment.

The Great Sage's eyebrows trembled as he stared down at it.

This formula did not apply only to the blister plague. The Red Death. The Black Plague. The Curse of Rot. Bone Rust. All kinds of plagues that periodically swept through the Empire inside the walls, killing hundreds of thousands of people. This formula could be applied to every single one of them. Of course, the specific variables would have to be adjusted for each plague, 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, Louis had witnessed countless discoveries. The refinement of mana crystals. Spatial teleportation magic. Life-extension rituals. Yet this was a monumental discovery that stood proudly alongside them all. This was a discovery that transcended the history of magic and would reshape the history of humanity itself.

I must make sure that child understands just how great of a discovery this is.

Over the past three years of observing the boy named Julian, the Great Sage felt he had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠come to understand his character. A child who did not even know the meaning of the word arrogance would undoubtedly fail to grasp the true magnitude of this discovery. Even if someone praised him to high heaven, he would probably not recognize his own greatness by even a fingernail's breadth.

Therefore, to foster his disciple's self-esteem as a mentor should, the Great Sage intended to seize every opportunity to tell Julian directly how incredible he was.

Right on cue, Julian returned to the laboratory after finishing his conversation with Wangcho. Louis immediately began explaining the sheer greatness of this discovery to him.

"I see."

Just as expected, Julian's reaction was remarkably calm. He clearly understood it intellectually; he seemed fully aware of the massive ripples this discovery would cause. He was simply refusing to take full, personal credit for it out of his constant vigilance against arrogance.

Sigh... Just as I thought...

However, a tiny, subtle twitch at the corner of Julian's lips revealed that he was, in fact, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. That alone brought some comfort to Louis. At the very least, it proved his disciple's self-esteem wasn't completely non-existent.

Once Julian's praise session concluded, Louis suddenly recalled something.

"Julian."

"Yes, Master?"

"This magic formula... or did you call it a 'vaccine'? Do you have any intention of formally registering it with the Magic Tower Alliance and the Imperial Patent Office?"

"A patent, you mean?"

Julian tilted his head. Louis added in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a serious tone,

"By law, magic formulas are personal achievements, so there is no obligation to share them. However, for great formulas that serve the public interest, the Empire directly guarantees patents to grant exclusive rights to the original creator."

"..."

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

Julian fell silent for a moment. Louis took this silence as hesitation.

Is he hesitating?

In truth, Julian was already quite wealthy, a fact Louis was well aware of. Over the past three years, Julian had occasionally introduced other medicines to the world. But a patent for this "vaccine manufacturing formula" was on an entirely different level.

The moment this formula was made public, lords across the Empire and royalty from neighboring nations would gladly pour out their fortunes to protect their families from plagues. Even a magic tool that merely prevented poisoning could fetch enough to buy a mansion or two. For a medicine that could prevent plagues for a lifetime, they would willingly offer enough to purchase an entire castle.

If that happened, Julian would amass wealth surpassing even the Grand Ducal families in the blink of an eye.

No, perhaps he could even stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Golden Lords...

The richest men in the world. Who could possibly refuse such a position? Thus, Louis expected his young disciple to either rejoice at this staggering proposal or at least agonize over it.

However, after what seemed like a brief moment of thought, Julian gave an answer that Louis had never anticipated.

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

"...What did you say?"

Louis's single eye widened in sheer bewilderment.

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

"W-Wait, Julian. Think of the blood, sweat, and tears you poured into perfecting this formula over the past three years. A pack of rotten jackals eyeing this formula might try to steal your rights. Why on earth would you give up such immense compensation?"

"Did you not do the same, Master?"

"...What?"

Julian smiled warmly.

"Back when humanity was losing its living spaces to the Magic Beasts, you organized magic—which was an uncharted domain back then—into an academic discipline and began teaching it to the people, did you not?"

It was true. When Louis had first structured the concept of magic into a science, he had shared the spells he classified into thirteen distinct systems with the world. Though not everyone became a mage, the number of mages—which had previously been a mere one in hundreds of thousands—skyrocketed because of his efforts. Furthermore, magic that had once been barely enough to slay low-level Magic Beasts had undergone explosive growth, now capable of matching high-level Magic Beasts.

For this, the world called Louis the "Father of Magic." Even after a thousand years and countless magical discoveries, the reputation of the Father of Magic had never faded. And Julian truly, deeply respected Louis for that.

"I, too, wish to follow in your footsteps, Master."

"...There is no need for you to walk the same path as me, Julian. This is your rightful reward."

Despite the Great Sage's persuasion, Julian merely gazed back into his single eye with a serene expression. And as if he had not a single shred of doubt or regret regarding his decision, he replied with the warmest smile in the world.

"Master. Would you file a patent for the rising sun?"

The Great Sage's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded violently. This sudden thrill... how many years had it been since he last felt it?

"The sun is great because it shines equally upon all, nurturing life. This medicine is the same. It must become commonplace to truly become great."

Ah, yes. His long-departed comrades. The first Hero. The founding King. The Mother of Elves. He had not felt this kind of thrill since he had bid them farewell.

"...Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"You will not regret this?"

"On the contrary, I believe I would regret it far more if I failed to save people despite having discovered this medicine."

There was no tremor in Julian's voice. Louis let out a sigh—a long, deep sigh.

"...Very well."

Then, he chuckled softly.

"I shall respect your Idea."

Every mages was arrogant. To wield magic, one required not only knowledge and talent but also their own mental imagery. The landscape they envisioned, the ideal they pursued—mages called this ideal their Idea. And the Idea of his youngest disciple, which the Great Sage had just caught a glimpse of, was far more arrogant than he had ever imagined.

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

"Thank you, Master."

"However," Louis raised a finger, "I shall be the one to name this formula."

"The name?"

"Yes. The name by which it will be passed down to posterity."

Louis unfurled the parchment and wrote a single line at the very top of the formula.

"...Master."

"I will accept no objections," Louis said firmly. "You may forgo the patent as you wish. But I will not tolerate the name of the creator of this formula being lost to history."

"..."

"This is my Idea, so respect it."

"...I understand, Master."

Julian nodded reluctantly, a look of slight discontent on his face. But as his master, Louis felt this was a necessary measure. Since this humble disciple of his had no idea how to look after his own interests, Louis had to force them upon him, even if it meant being overbearing.

Louis rolled up the parchment and tucked it into his robes.

"Now, let us begin the next experiment. We have a long road ahead of us."

"Yes, Master."

The Great Sage's left eye followed the back of the fifteen-year-old boy's head, carrying a small, quiet wish that this little joy he had found in his twilight years would last forever.

Meanwhile, at that exact moment, Julian was thinking...

Ah, he really shouldn't have named it the Schnabel Formula...

He felt deeply uncomfortable with the name his master had bestowed upon the formula.

Do you have any idea how many formulas and medicines I'm going to make in the future?

He couldn't very well call every single one of them the "Schnabel Formula." If he did, medical students and apprentice healers hundreds of years from now would undoubtedly curse his name.

— "Schnabel Formula No. 3? What the hell was that again?"

— "Formula No. 5? Wait, this has absolutely nothing to do with No. 4! Why did he classify it like this?!"

Julian knew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠better than anyone the sheer agony of studying diseases named after the scientists who discovered them. Behçet's disease, Huntington's chorea, Hodgkin's lymphoma... Because of this, he had sworn never to attach his own name to any disease or formula he discovered.

Yet, his master had refused to allow it.

...I'm sorry, my future juniors.

In any case, he had to make sure this wouldn't be blamed on him. Thus, Julian resolved that he would absolutely make sure the true origin of the naming was recorded in the history books.