ISMFF60

Chapter 60.

Malice (7)

‘Why did he make me stay behind…?’

His fingers fidgeted nervously with the potion bottles hanging from his belt.
It wasn’t as if he had done anything to offend the guest professor he had only met today. Still, his back was drenched with cold sweat.

Part of it was the tension of not knowing why he’d been singled out, but more than that—it was the way the man’s faint smile had vanished the moment they were alone, leaving behind a sharp and intimidating expression. As if waiting for the right moment, the professor immediately asked a blunt question.

“During the practical today, you added another ingredient, didn’t you? The powder looked like a pale sky-blue. And if I recall, your potion had a thicker viscosity. The concentration was fine, but the color was dull.”

“Th–that… how could you possibly…?”

What astonished him even more was that this man had perfectly recalled every potion. There had been at least thirty, each from different students. And yet this mage recited the details of his potion as if he had studied it for minutes, not seconds.

And then—

“It was mermaid shell powder, wasn’t it?”

“…H–huh!”

He even guessed the ingredient in one stroke.
The student—Plumen—was utterly shocked. That was not a material anyone could name so easily. Even he himself had struggled to acquire the rare ingredient.

“That isn’t in any textbook, nor is it used in fatigue-recovery potions. Why did you add it?”

Though phrased as a question, the professor’s cold stare was more an interrogation. He didn’t blink once as he bore down on the trembling student.

‘Hic!’

Plumen, strung taut with tension, hiccupped involuntarily before he could even speak. Humiliated by his own body betraying him, he wanted to cry.

Seeing this, Temia quickly stepped in with a warm voice to comfort him.

“Professor isn’t scolding you. He’s only worried. Using the wrong ingredient can be dangerous—you could cause an explosion, or worse, a magical accident during infusion.”

Of course, she didn’t forget to whisper a reproach to Lowell as well.

“Relax your face, will you! Nothing even happened. You’ll scare the poor boy to death!”

Perhaps her words helped, because the mage exhaled deeply and spoke again, his tone slightly softened.

“You can relax. I’m just tired—that’s why I look pale. I’m not angry.”

“Y–yes, sir…!!”

‘That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one…’

Though his voice sounded milder, the sharp chill in his eyes and the agitated way he ran his hand through his hair betrayed a simmering irritation.

Of course, Plumen couldn’t say that aloud. What student would dare confront a professor, even a temporary one? Seeing the boy’s silence, Lowell waved a hand as if to reassure him further.

“Truly. After all, you’re just a student, and these are practice potions. I won’t be using them. It’s nothing for me to be angry about. If you were a licensed mage selling these to the public, then yes—that would be a serious matter.”

“S–serious matter? But it’s not such a big deal, I was told…”

“…Told? By whom?”

Lowell’s gaze sharpened instantly. Plumen stammered.

‘Oh no. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone…’

He remembered the hushed warning when the ingredient was handed to him:

—“Got it? You must use it only for yourself. I went through hell to get this for you. Don’t breathe a word to anyone.”

Graduation loomed closer, and he had no remarkable achievements to show. He had grown distant even from his old friends, weighed down by nerves, and recently spent more time with a fellow student from another dormitory. That student, aware of his anxieties, had whispered about a secret ingredient and pressed it into his hand.

‘I only tried it because this was a special lecture without the regular professor. I thought it was my chance…’

It had been a desperate gamble for better results, but now Plumen shrank in fear, worried he might only look like a careless, untrustworthy student. After a long hesitation, he finally confessed.

“M–my friend gave it to me. He said even with low mana, adding this would boost the potion’s effect. He swore he’d used it himself and it worked.”

“…Maybe it does. But I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Lowell shook his head in disbelief, leaving Plumen even more anxious.

‘Why does he sound so concerned? Is it dangerous…?’

At last, Lowell answered in a grave tone.

“It can be used as a booster, yes. But it carries side effects. Not common, but not rare either. And when they strike, they can wreck a mage’s body completely. That’s why no one uses it anymore. If you drank that potion and nothing happened, count yourself lucky.”

“B–but isn’t there always risk in any method? Besides, I drank a potion with mermaid shell powder before and felt fine.”

“The most important thing in potion-making is stability. If you only chase stronger effects, who bears responsibility when things go wrong? A mage’s duty is to weigh and balance those risks. Ah… by ‘drank,’ you mean those potions hanging from your belt? Better throw them away.”

“T–these too?! My chest felt a little tight, but really, I’m fine!”

Plumen looked at him in desperation, but Lowell remained firm.

“Only one commercial potion ever used that ingredient—and its effects were mild, with every use strictly monitored. But those bottles on your belt? They’re not that.”

His eyes dropped to Plumen’s waist, where one potion bottle was already empty. Flustered, Plumen stammered.

“I was born with low mana… I can’t keep up otherwise.”

“And I told you—forcing your output only destabilizes your flow. It might seem to help now, but in the long run it won’t. Worse, it’ll harm you.”

“…I understand.”

“Take a calming potion instead. I’ll authorize it. Drink it and monitor your condition for a week.”

Lowell scribbled a note, stamped it with his seal of approval, and handed it over.

When the last student finally left, silence fell in the lecture hall.
At long last, the lecture was truly over.

‘A friend gave it to him? If that ingredient is circulating like this, there’s no way he was the only one.’

Lowell’s mind raced.
The odds were high that rare materials were already being distributed illicitly across campus—cheap, unstable, and harmful ones at that.

What good was raising mana output by poisoning the body? For nothing more than practice potions!

Temia, meanwhile, watched quietly as he packed up. She was quietly impressed. For all his harsh tone, Lowell had guided the student with sound reasoning and genuine concern.

‘So he actually has a knack for teaching…?’

She had thought him nothing more than a brute who threw people around when annoyed. But today he had shown another side entirely. Maybe her evaluation needed revising.

Of course, Lowell ruined the moment by muttering under his breath:

“…Hard to sympathize when you’ve never lacked mana yourself.”

Temia rolled her eyes and snapped:

“Do you ever stop being insufferable?”

The rest unfolded quickly.
Lowell completed his duties, reported the suspicious ingredient trade to the higher authorities, exchanged formal greetings with the palace inspector and the East Tower Master, and wrapped up the academy’s request on behalf of the dean.

With a hefty payment in hand, he left without a backward glance, ignoring the dean’s grumbling about his lack of warmth.

“Finally going home…”

Lowell, Temia, and Lery boarded the train, just as they had when arriving. But this time, exhaustion overtook them; all three dozed off for the entire ride.

They returned at last to the workshop.
It had only been a few days, but somehow the place felt unfamiliar—perhaps because of the cold, sharp air that greeted them as soon as they opened the door.

“Let’s unpack and rest.”

“Ugh, my wings are so stiff from sitting still…”

Drained by the long, uncomfortable journey, they trudged toward their rooms. But then—
A sharp knocking echoed from the front door, wiping away the faint smiles that lingered on their lips.