# Chapter 87
Arden raised himself from where he had been leaning and looked at Corol.
“Do you remember exactly where they shot?”
“Um… well… I saw them grab the hand.”
“Could it have been the little finger that was hit?”
Kaiyu, sensing the serious atmosphere, turned around while holding laundry. Even his mother half-rose from her seat.
“It was too dark to see clearly…”
“Does anyone know where the knights are staying?”
Arden lifted his head and looked in turn at Kaiyu and his mother. No answer came immediately. Corol muttered in a subdued voice.
“Come to think of it, why doesn’t anyone know… You’d think they’d boast about staying at their inn.”
The knights had been dispatched after a long time. This wasn’t something to take lightly. Despite being the center of everyone’s attention, no one knew where they were lodging.
“Have you seen the knights doing anything suspicious? Do you know what they’ve been doing?”
“Yesterday… they came to our house.”
The siblings’ mother spoke up. Everyone’s heads turned simultaneously. Both Corol and Kaiyu had expressions suggesting this was news to them.
“What did they do?”
“Just… well, they didn’t do anything specific, just conducted a survey. A living condition survey. How many people in the household, whether we keep livestock, things like that. They didn’t just come to our house, but to others as well.”
So that was why knights had been in the market. Was this truly a survey to pacify the country? Surveys could be exploited in many ways.
People must have talked about the thief in the village. Yet despite the commotion last night, the knights hadn’t shown themselves.
The suspicious points weren’t few. The sudden dispatch, knights wearing old uniforms, and the injured finger.
“Oh, they also asked about the magician. Whether she often comes down to the village, if she’s close with anyone, what her build is like.”
“Build?”
“Maybe they’re trying to take her to the castle? Magicians are rare after all…”
If they were wearing knight uniforms, no one would doubt them. In times like these, when the Emperor’s power was at its strongest, the name “knight” was more honorable than any family name.
The fog in his mind cleared. Arden immediately ran out of the fence and dashed toward the village.
“Eden?”
There was no time to respond to the voice calling from behind. The knights passed by Arden going in the opposite direction. Arden headed toward the residential area far from the station, while they went in the opposite direction.
He didn’t know what purpose they had in digging the ground away from people’s eyes, whether they were really knights, or if not, how they had obtained those uniforms, but only one thought came to mind. He needed to check the train station.
Horses, cows, carriages. After that, there was only the train.
“Eden! Let’s go together!”
Hearing the footsteps of two people following him, he ran back the way he had come. Shops began to appear, and gradually there were more people. Amid the crowd, Arden desperately searched for black uniforms.
“My goodness, why is he so fast? Eden!”
The voice following made Arden feel more urgent. He didn’t know what the thieves’ purpose was, but having been discovered once, they must be feeling rushed, and their plan would clearly harm the village.
Arden considered why he was being so desperate. There needed to be a legitimate reason for taking such risks.
If the train station is blocked, our own movement will be difficult too. That’s the only reason. I’m not particularly moral or altruistic. I’m just acting for my own purposes.
‘I wanted to be a journalist.’
‘No matter how I look at it, today’s newspapers are too strange.’
‘They say what we’ve accomplished, how Artalis will develop further, how we can all be happier.’
‘I just don’t understand why none of it feels real to me.’
Even so, they were people he barely knew. Knowing their names, dreams, and families didn’t make them particularly close or significant to him.
Am I really…?
Arden bit his lip. By now, he had reached the small square in front of the station. Stepping onto the flat stone ground, he entered the station. His hat had long since fallen off, and the footsteps that had been following were no longer audible.
“Hey, you can’t just go in like that!”
Despite the station attendant’s protest, Arden strode past the ticket gate and headed toward the platform. Wherever the command came from, the action would ultimately take place on the platform.
“No matter what, suddenly ordering the closure of the train station…”
Train station closure. Hearing these words in passing, he urgently shouted.
“You can’t!”
When he ran down the steps and faced the open platform, Arden was able to find the black uniforms he had been looking for.
At Arden’s presence, everyone turned around. There were five people. One more than before. The additional person was a face Arden knew.
‘What’s that thing in your ear?’
That had been the last time. Having his hearing aid forcibly torn out had left his ear sore. A ringing sound persisted. He couldn’t hear anything.
Please give it back. It’s an important item.
Arden didn’t know if he had spoken properly. Daniel said something with a playful smile, but he couldn’t understand. He couldn’t even read his lips.
He had never experienced such complete silence before. Whether from excitement or his hearing getting worse, all sounds were buried beneath the ringing. When he covered his painful ear with his hand, he felt something wet. Lowering his hand to check, it was covered in blood.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Except for one person. To them, it was just a prank. Daniel held the hearing aid up high and said something, then let go. Arden’s gaze followed its descent. As soon as it hit the floor, a dark brown boot stomped on it.
There wasn’t even a design to refer to. The original model was already shattered. Arden had spent several nights creating it based on Plin’s. After finishing it, he had cried for a long time. Tears that hadn’t fallen even when hearing the news of Plin’s death finally flowed then.
It was after that time. He started making small hoops like earrings and inserting them into his earlobes. So that they would never, ever fall out again.
At that time, among the knights laughing and chattering behind Daniel, there was one person who wasn’t smiling. He had never spoken with him, and he wasn’t a particularly noticeable knight. So he didn’t know his name or where he came from. The problem was…
“…Arden?”
That person knew who Arden was.
* * *
“Just one? After I made you perfume and went through so much trouble putting out that fire, just one?”
“This is payment for the perfume. And the fire wasn’t my fault. It was yours.”
Of course it was your fault. If you had just done what you were taught properly, I wouldn’t have had to get so angry… Aigle clutched the single black scale preciously and objected point by point. Rite, indifferent to her protests, sat on a pile of books.
“Don’t sit there!”
“I have good balance.”
“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about my books! You think those are just ordinary books? They were passed down to me from my master, and my master from their master…”
“Ah, so noisy. Who was throwing around these precious books earlier?”
As Rite abruptly stood up, the stack of books collapsed with a crash. Aigle screamed, but Rite paid no attention and moved to her side. He tapped the desk like knocking to get his teacher’s attention.
“So. What are you going to do with the dragon scale?”
“What else! Obviously, I’m going to make a potion!”
“A potion?”
What would you know? Aigle muttered as she placed the scale in a beaker. Plop. Following the small sound, she unfastened the necklace she wore. She twisted open the center of the crystal pendant and added a few drops of white liquid to the beaker. Simultaneously, the liquid began to bubble. It was fascinating that it started boiling without any heat applied.
“Maybe because it’s from a Winter Forest dragon. The boiling power is weak.”
Rite shifted his gaze from the beaker to glance at Aigle’s face. It was only a matter of time before she discovered it wasn’t a dragon scale.
The once transparent liquid was gradually turning black like the scale. Aigle walked around the room gathering ingredients. She opened a drawer to grab a handful of bay leaves, twisted and crushed them between her hands, and plucked dried thyme hanging from the ceiling, adding the petals one by one.
“Using a beaker instead of a cauldron? You’re like an alchemist.”
“Technology has advanced, why would I struggle with a cauldron?”
The color changed each time she added plants to the beaker. To purple, to yellow, and back to purple again. Rite couldn’t tell what Aigle was making or whether it was going well, but her expression was serene.
She hasn’t noticed yet, it seems.
He planned to continuously talk to his teacher to prevent her from concentrating and induce mistakes. Rite spoke whatever came to mind.
“How do you make it?”
“Do you know what it is before asking?”
“I’ll find out when I see it later.”
“First I added bay leaves. They have preservative effects, so they go into all kinds of potions in small amounts. Next is thyme. It’s precious. Usually people can’t add it because it’s not available, but I have some. Adding this reduces the body’s potential rejection. Dragon scales are powerful.”
After that, she continued bringing and adding plants like rue and ginger, explaining their effects to Rite. The busy magician eventually snickered.
“Not that you could make it anyway.”
“…Why?”
It was quite an insulting remark. Rite was confident he could replicate anything after seeing it once.
“You think this is like cooking? If anyone could make it just by knowing the recipe, why would my magic potions sell for so much?”
As someone who had never successfully cast a binding spell, Rite had no rebuttal. He had thought he would learn quickly, but being created by Artalis didn’t help at all. For Rite, who had relied on intuition to cast simple spells, adopting a new method wasn’t easy. His body kept trying to maintain the previous approach.
“You asked me once how to increase the amount of magical energy, right?”
At his teacher’s words, Rite stopped his self-reproach. Having apparently finished all the steps, Aigle had stopped moving and pulled up a chair to sit in front of the beaker.
This isn’t good. Rite frowned.
“You said it was impossible.”
“Increasing the amount of magical energy is, yes. But if the amount isn’t enough, you can increase something else.”
Aigle pointed at the beaker as she spoke. The blue liquid continued to boil as if it had been placed over a low flame.
“Dragon scales have various uses. A blacksmith would make armor or swords, an alchemist would try to create the philosopher’s stone, but magicians make potions. Have you heard that the Emperor is a descendant of dragons?”
Rite nodded. It was a story originating from the founding myth. The first king, Artalis, married the black dragon Noah, and the imperial family were their descendants.
“Did you know that the royal family in the past found it easier to learn magic? That’s because royal blood flowed in them back then. It’s too diluted now.”
“What do you mean?”
“All parts of a dragon are imbued with strong magical energy.”
Aigle pointed at the beaker again.
“It’s a potion that enhances magical power. To explain it simply, it’s like coating arrow tips with poison or attaching spikes to a club.”
“……”
“In other words, a dragon scale is like a legendary elixir for magicians.”
Aigle’s eyes sparkled. This was the first time Rite had seen his teacher so full of life.
“To think the day would come when I’d make this in my lifetime…”
“Is this your first time?”
“Of course. You think dragon scales are as common as pebbles?”
“Then you might fail, too.”
Rite said with a bright smile. This was welcome news. Aigle looked at him once more with a sneer.
“Forgot that my specialty is pharmacology?”
“You’re quite confident.”
“You’ll see. If it turns emerald green, it’s a success.”
The potion was closer to blue. Rite felt a bit guilty. Before questioning his teacher’s ability, the problem was with the scale he had provided. He felt pity, worried that this incident might damage Aigle’s confidence.
“Magician! Are you there?!”
With an urgent voice, someone knocked on the door.
