Chapter 81
“What does an ‘unfortunate incident’ have to do with Your Majesty coming here?”
I asked in a tone that made it clear how absurd I found the situation.
“Well, isn’t it a grave oversight on my part that an intruder broke into this annex, where such precious guests are staying?
So I, personally, came to tell you how to counter the succubus’s powerful sleep curse…”
King Anzav began speaking with an exaggeratedly proud grin.
“…I don’t need it.”
I cut him off coldly.
“What?”
My reaction seemed far from what he expected, because his face immediately twisted in confusion.
“I already know the method. So I think it’d be best if you returned now.”
I smiled with one corner of my mouth lifted.
I couldn’t see myself, but I was certain the expression was unbelievably irritating.
“T—that’s impossible…”
All kingly dignity long forgotten, Anzav stuttered like someone caught off guard.
“It’s true. I took the medicine Lady Elaine gave me, and it woke me right up.”
Leo, who had been silently listening, chimed in timidly.
Normally, his eyes would sparkle as if an invisible tail wagged behind him, but today… he seemed shy.
Perhaps embarrassed from crying yesterday.
But crying together wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about.
With Leo backing me up, the king’s expression became even more pitiful—
clearly disappointed his “surprise gift” wasn’t needed.
And then—
“What are you talking about?
A potion that counters a succubus’s sleep curse isn’t easy to make.
Only an extremely potent stimulant would work.”
A middle-aged woman’s voice drifted toward us.
I had heard her voice in the game—voiced by a prominent VA—but never in this world until now.
It was Alkimia, the Royal Alchemist of the Aither Kingdom.
I thought we wouldn’t meet since I had already done her job for her, but here she was—
unexpected, yet somehow nostalgic.
“Hey. I was going to give you a cool introduction.
You can’t just walk in before I do.”
Anzav puffed out his lips in an unbefittingly childish sulk.
Alkimia snorted and walked over to our table.
“I don’t think this is the moment for a ‘cool introduction,’ Your Majesty.
Even at a glance, the Hero’s party has full control of this situation.”
She did address him as “Your Majesty,”
but there was absolutely zero respect in her voice.
It honestly made me wonder if the Aither king’s authority was really okay like this.
“I am Alkimia, royal alchemist of this kingdom.
May I see the potion you used, if you still have some?”
Sitting across from me, she extended her palm confidently.
I still had plenty left, since we’d need it again for Hypnosian.
But…
…why does she want it? This feels uneasy.
I felt reluctant to hand it over, yet refusing outright was impossible.
Her gaze was sharp—teacher-like.
The kind that makes you straighten your back without thinking.
“Do you not have any left?”
“N-no, I do.”
Pressed by her intense stare, I quietly took out a bottle from my inventory and placed it on the table.
I wasn’t usually the type to fold so easily.
Why was it so hard to refuse her?
It only took me a moment to realize the reason.
…She looks just like my homeroom teacher from senior year.
A teacher with soft charisma—strict when needed, warm otherwise.
I used to visit her with cake even after graduation.
I wondered… would she have been sad about my death?
That thought squeezed my chest for a moment—
until Alkimia’s voice jolted me back.
“Hmm…”
Lost in concentration, she shook the bottle, opened it, smelled it,
and even dabbed a drop with her pinky to taste it.
“This is a potion made from Catershi fruit.
It’s a traditional alchemic remedy passed down in Aither.
How did you know to prepare this?”
She had identified it just like that—
as expected from a true expert.
“Oh, um… The recipe was in our Hero Order’s library.
I just followed it.”
“Catershi fruit can only be obtained in this region.
It’s expensive everywhere else.
And with the desert routes blocked, it should be even harder to acquire.”
“…Yes. The apothecary on Mid-Isle said they had exactly one left, so I bought it for a very high price.”
Why was I answering her questions so readily?
I was confronted with the truth:
I am weak to the ‘scary but caring teacher’ archetype.
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Hmm.
It’s almost like you already knew a succubus would appear.”
She smiled knowingly.
It was a pointed, probing comment—
and it pierced me cleanly.
Of course I flinched.
“…”
Calm down, me.
You cannot let her find out you know the future.
I forced myself to smile serenely while sweating bullets internally.
My mind spun desperately, searching for an escape route.
“I’m just… very thorough with preparations.
I try to be ready for all kinds of situations.”
Not entirely a lie.
Everyone here knew I carried ridiculous amounts of potions at all times.
My companions looked unsurprised, as if thinking,
“Yep, that’s Elaine being Elaine again.”
Thankfully, that excuse worked on them.
But Alkimia still stared deeply at the potion bottle in thought.
Does she still suspect something?
My throat dried as I waited anxiously for her next words.
“You have quite a lot of talent, Hero.
How long have you been studying alchemy?”
Finally, she spoke—
and it wasn’t the interrogation I feared.
“Oh, um… only a few months? One or two?”
Considering how long I’d been in this world, that was naturally all the time I’d had.
And even then, alchemy wasn’t all I studied—
blacksmithing, carpentry, weaving, leatherwork, jewelry, cooking, etc., etc…
So much that it was hard to believe it had only been a few months.
“Only a few months, and you succeeded at a high-difficulty potion like this.
Remarkable. You’re gifted.”
She smiled again—
but this time, it was the smile of a predator spotting a promising young prey.
“T-talent?
I just followed the recipe.”
“My dear, that is what talent is.
There are countless people who ruin potions even while staring straight at a recipe.”
She tapped her fingers on the table as if bewildered by such incompetence.
And honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
There are countless “disasters-in-the-kitchen” types—
people who’ll replace sesame oil with olive oil because “they’re both plant oils,”
or who burn food because “10 minutes on low is the same as 2 minutes on high.”
Alchemy had its share of those.
The term crackchemist probably originated from them.
“Anyway, I like you.
Would you like to become my apprentice?
I could turn you into the greatest master alchemist in the field.”
“…Apprentice?”
The unexpected offer made me blink slowly.
In the game, Alkimia was just an NPC who made the potion I had already made myself.
She never offered the protagonist an apprenticeship.
Of course, the game protagonist didn’t preempt her job by crafting the potion ahead of time.
I said she reminded me of my teacher—but I didn’t expect her to actually try to take me as a student!
I took a breath to calm myself.
“I’m sorry.
I have responsibilities in the Hero Order.”
I did enjoy crafting potions, but not enough to make a career of it.
Besides, many people could become alchemists—
but only I could fight the forces of the Demon God Ponerus.
So I had no choice but to decline.
“Oh my, that’s a shame.”
She pouted lightly—and then smiled again.
“Then how about this?
You don’t have to make alchemy your main profession.
Just come visit occasionally and learn from me.
It would be good for you too, Elaine.”
