The Return (1)

A single carriage rolled to a stop before the White Tower's main gate.

Oscar, the mage who had finished settling his fare and stepped down, froze for a moment.

Someone he had never expected to see was waiting for him.

"…Senior Lena?"

"Welcome back."

Lena White.

He was certain she had been waiting for him for one simple reason.

He stared blankly at the banner fluttering from the front gate, and Lena White rummaged for something and held it out to him.

"…What's this?"

"Tofu."

"I didn't exactly come back from prison, you know."

Still, he grumbled and took a courteous bite out of the block of tofu. As the nutty flavor spread through his mouth, Oscar tilted his chin toward the banner.

"And whose brilliant idea was that joke of a stunt, exactly?"

"Mine."

"…What I meant to say was, it's so touching I could hardly laugh."

Having hastily polished off the tofu, Oscar stepped through the main gate and asked, "That was delicious. Did the military reach out?"

"They did. And honestly, they were far more agreeable than I expected. What on earth did you do over there?"

"More agreeable than expected?"

When Oscar shot her a look asking what she meant, she simply shrugged.

"Frankly, I assumed that even if the military signed a regular supply contract for our high-grade potions, the volume wouldn't be all that large. They'd have to keep up appearances for the Blue Tower, after all. But when the lid came off, it was nowhere near that scale."

With that, she handed him a single document. Oscar skimmed it quickly and murmured, wide-eyed.

"…This isn't just a contract. This is them cutting off the Blue Tower entirely and switching over to us."

"That's what I said. Which is why we scrambled to put together this ridiculous little event."

It wasn't as though every front would sever its dealings with the Blue Tower. But the western front was the largest on the continent — and the potions flowing into it would now be replaced by the White Tower's.

Knowing Theodore, the Commander must have pulled some strings behind the scenes.

The man was the Tiger of the West, who had ruled the Red Citadel for a full thirty years. His influence within the military was surely no joke. Considering that Oscar had saved that formidable man's life and won his trust, the outcome was, in a way, only natural.

"Hm."

And yet he couldn't bring himself to feel purely happy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠about such an enormous achievement — probably because he'd seen too much of reality to be naive. He handed the document back.

"These results are going to be quite a shock to the Blue Tower."

"I thought you'd see it the same way."

Lena nodded.

"In my book, we've graduated from being a nuisance. Until now, we were like mice quietly nibbling away at the great pie that is the potion market… but we've become something sitting across the table, dining with them as equals."

The White Tower's potion division had become, in name and in fact, a giant threatening the Blue Tower's seat of power. It meant the Blue Tower could no longer brazen it out as the undisputed masters of the market.

"That's why your achievement this time fills me with joy — and, at the same time, a little fear."

"Hm. It's true the Blue Tower isn't the type to sit quietly and watch rivals rise against them."

They would stop at nothing to put a scratch on the White Tower's potion division.

Or perhaps not just the potion division — perhaps the White Tower ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠itself.

If it were those people, they might well go after the Tower as a whole. Oscar's eyes deepened, and he spoke.

"Check the production lines so we can meet the military's requested volume, and secure at least twenty percent more than they've asked for. Above all, watch the quality. We cannot afford an accident like the one that happened in Moske."

"I figured you'd say that, so I've already finished the basic preparations."

Oscar barely suppressed a sudden, overwhelming urge to ruffle her hair.

They say a dull mind makes the body suffer, but really, you don't even need to be smart yourself. All you have to do is seat brilliant people like this in the right chairs.

"Well done. Anything else the potion division needs?"

"Hmm. One good kick would be nice."

"…A kick?"

"Water's come in, after all. What I mean is, it'd be good to have a potion — something that could kill this market outright, something no other tower or corporation would even dream of imitating."

She shrugged.

"Well, you're not some omnipotent space alien. I know asking doesn't make things pop out of thin air. I just figured I'd put the question out there, so don't stress over it."

"A kick, huh."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Oscar stroked his chin.

The White Tower's current standing. The ripple effect the potion division carried in the market. And now the military's exclusive supply contract on top of that, with sales poised to explode even further.

Weighing it all, he nodded slowly.

"It's about time. If that's what you mean by a kick, then as it happens, I have just the thing."

"…You do?"

"I do."

Looking into Lena's curiosity-filled face, Oscar asked, "Do you, by any chance, enjoy crying?"

"…Are there people who enjoy that? I didn't know you had that kind of taste."

"No, it's not a matter of taste — it's that I suspect you'll be shedding quite a few tears soon."

"Crying? Why me?"

Watching Lena tilt her head, Oscar let out a faint, enigmatic smile.

"There's a potion I'd planned to keep sealed until the White Tower had gathered enough strength."

"There was something like that? What potion?"

"A truly extraordinary one — the kind that can bring the dying back to life."

"…Hearing that alone, it sounds like something a con artist would be hawking on a street corner."

"That's fair."

After all, this was the first elixir in history ever to be officially certified as a true elixir — out of every potion mankind had ever created.

"Tears of the Stars."

Oscar chuckled at the sight of Lena's eyes going round as saucers.

"This will be our kick."

* * *

From the very ingredients that went into it, Tears of the Stars was expensive through and through. Worse, those materials weren't one or two items but a long list — and even having them all in hand wasn't enough to make it.

Time.

Above all, it was a potion that demanded long hours and painstaking care. Think of it as a masterpiece that master potion-makers had to pour their very hearts and souls into.

Even the White Tower in its prime could only produce about ten a year.

Naturally, whatever price they named became the price. Though in truth, the White Tower never named one at all.

A potion so potent that simply owning it was power in itself. That was Tears of the Stars.

Lena, reading over the manufacturing process Oscar handed her, clicked her tongue.

"Are these ingredients right? Every single one is outrageously expensive…"

"Well, what we're making is nothing less than Tears of the Stars."

"Hm. Understood. But… if we really make this, it'll actually bring tears?"

"Yes."

Tears of the Stars was a potion whose signature quality was a sharp, stinging kick — and naturally, every one of its ingredients was painfully spicy. Because of that, the mages who brewed it were forever streaming tears even behind their goggles.

We used to joke that it wasn't Tears of the Stars at all, but the Potion Division's Tears.

In the end, it was a potion made out of their own tears.

Oscar set a short-term target.

"For the first year, don't get greedy. Aim for three batches before the White Night Festival. Set that as your goal and work toward it."

"Sounds right. You can't get full on the first spoonful, after all… and we'll need to build up all sorts of know-how as we go."

Tasked with a new assignment, Lena returned to the potion workshop burning with enthusiasm. Judging by the complexity of the process, it would take at least two months before a prototype emerged.

His steps toward the Special Affairs Department were stopped by a page over the Tower's broadcast.

"…"

So it had come, as he knew it would. Sasha — that child surely had more than a question or two on her mind.

How I managed to soothe her fairy potion. And also…

How he was able to wield mana with the very same texture as Oscar Sage's.

He drew a long, deep breath and went straight to the Tower Master's office.

"Paying my respects to the Tower Master."

"Spare me the stiff talk. Come sit over here."

Sasha beamed and gestured him into a seat, pouring him tea as she spoke.

"I was stunned when I heard the potion division's report. They say you've restored the formula for Tears of the Stars?"

"Yes. I got lucky."

"If you call that luck, then every alchemist in the world ought to be out of a job."

She clapped her hands softly, apparently having just remembered something else to praise.

"Oh, right. And Commander Theodore Veil sent me a handwritten letter himself."

"Did he, now."

"He did. It said he wished the White Tower boundless glory in the days ahead, and that he almost envied us for having such talent in our ranks. Just how extraordinary were you out on the battlefield, exactly?"

That man does love gilding a human face with gold, after all.

Oscar shook his head with deliberate effort.

"I simply did what I was able to do."

"Hm. You certainly are humble. Back in the day, whenever this came up, you seemed a little more… overflowing with confidence, if I recall."

The sharpness buried within her soft gaze swept over his face as if to strip it apart. Oscar calmly let the pressure wash past him and shrugged.

"People change, Tower Master. You might even call it growth."

"…Change and growth usually have a catalyst. What was yours, Oscar?"

"I suppose nearly dying and coming back counts?"

"That's all? No fortuitous encounter of some kind?"

"A fortuitous encounter?"

"Yes, you know, something… special… like…"

Sasha fumbled, as awkward as the second and minute hands of a broken clock. Oscar saw at once exactly where that hesitation came from.

Ah — she's wondering whether I inherited some legacy left behind by my past self.

Thinking about it rationally, that possibility did sound the most plausible. Who in their right mind would believe that the soul of Oscar Sage, long dead, had returned in a new body?

So — circumstantially, she suspects I inherited her master's legacy…

…but asking outright would be too mortifying for her. The reason needed no explanation.

"Do not so much as breathe a word about your senior disciples or your master in my presence. That is a warning."

At their last meeting, she had hurled those words at him with an expression and a voice cold as ice. For her to then ask questions about Oscar Sage herself would be humiliating to the point of death.

Watching her squirm in embarrassment, Oscar burst out laughing.

In these little ways, she hasn't changed a bit.

Sasha had never been able to lie, even as a girl.

Whenever she attempted one, her whole body would tremble, and she'd stare at the floor, never once meeting my eyes.

She was equally incapable of going back on a word once it had left her mouth. And because she took everyone else's words just as steadfastly on faith, Gilli used to trick her all the time.

"There was no fortuitous encounter, I'm afraid."

"Th-then restoring the potion's formula — you did all of that entirely on your own? Is that even possible?"

"As I said, I got lucky."

Oscar played dumb to the very end. Honestly speaking, other potions aside, restoring Tears of the Stars sat squarely in the realm of the impossible. If it had been easy, some other tower or corporation would have managed it long ago.

But what could anyone do when the man who'd succeeded claimed it was sheer luck?

"Hmmmm." ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ Sasha sat with her arms crossed, brow furrowed in thought for a long while — and then, at last, she rose to her feet.

"If you have the time, would you join me for a walk?"

"I have no objections, but a walk, all of a sudden?"

"Yes."

Sasha nodded, then opened her mouth to speak.

"I feel like stretching my legs. In exchange, I'll tell you what I know about your senior disciples and your master — the things you were so curious about before."

At last.

Oscar's eyes lit up. He rose slowly from his seat and nodded.

"Let's go."