Chapter 35

We have been in the town of Anea for six days. Emilian and I have been using a room in the inn provided to us as our base, and we have been continuously working on concocting recovery potions at the Anea branch.

Basically, from morning until evening, I ask Emilian to help me with the concoction process—picking the designated herbs from the herb garden, preparing the necessary tools, and, to put it bluntly, doing odd jobs. After the designated working hours, I teach her the art of concoction as promised.

"Ah, what?!"

"Aah, Emilian! Don't panic!"

I quickly turned off the heat when I saw the pure water used to boil the herbs starting to boil over. Emilian was staring at the bubbling water, her face tense.

—Teaching Emilian has not been going smoothly, to put it bluntly. However, this is not because she lacks talent or anything like that. It is clear to anyone that the reason is my poor teaching skills. I am aware that this might sound incredibly arrogant, but when it comes to concoction, I am a genius—intuitive. Therefore, I cannot give precise instructions to Emilian. Even when I try to teach her by making an example, I end up giving overly intuitive explanations like "when it feels like it's heated just right" or "when the sensation in your hands changes a little," which surprises even me. And more than that, I feel terribly sorry for Emilian.

—I would definitely hate a teacher like me.

Emilian tries her best to keep up with my inadequate and unclear guidance, but I am constantly worried that she might end up disliking me.

"It's difficult..."

Emilian's head drooped. Every time something like this happens, I apologize multiple times, saying it's my fault for explaining poorly, but she always denies it with her whole body, leaving me unable to say anything and just shaking my head. It feels wrong to keep denying her, and I might start to seem annoying if I keep doing it.

I tried to change the topic by looking at the liquid, which had lost its heat and was several steps away from becoming a recovery potion. Indeed, we still have a long way to go, but...

"But you've improved a lot since yesterday! This time, the amount of pure water and the heating time were perfect! ...I sound a bit too proud, sorry."

"No! As a master, it's only natural for you to be proud!"

"Master." I can only smile wryly at the word.

I realized once again that I am not cut out to be a teacher, so I decided I would never take on a disciple again. Emilian is my first and last disciple. —Not that I ever thought of her as a disciple in a condescending way.

"I'm not your master, okay."

I wanted to help someone who had been kind to me by teaching her a little wisdom and experience. Being a master is not such a grand thing. As I denied it, a gentle smile, rather than a wry one, appeared on my face. Seeing this, Emilian relaxed and smiled in relief.

—It has been a considerable amount of time since we left Platnovena. There has been no news, and it is likely that the situation is at a stalemate. No, it's possible that Arnold and the others are facing monsters right now, even as we speak, and the messenger just hasn't arrived yet.

I shook my head to dispel the ominous thoughts that came to mind.

Emilian probably worries about Alex too, even if she doesn't say it. And from her perspective, it must be clear that I am worried about Arnold and the others. However, we both know that thinking about them will only make us anxious and unable to do anything. That's why the word "Platnovena" never comes up in our conversations.

We both try desperately to maintain a warm and friendly atmosphere, which feels unnatural. Despite feeling this desperation, we pretend not to notice and exchange smiles.

Furthermore, we hardly interact with anyone else. We wake up in the morning, go to the branch, work in the assigned room, teach Emilian after work, and then return to the inn. The people at the Anea branch seem to be at a loss about how to handle us, who were suddenly entrusted with protection by a letter from Alex.

Our days are like we are barely standing on our own. —To be honest, it's a life that is wearing me down both mentally and physically.

***

"Why did you decide to become a concoctionist, Laura?"

Just as we were about to say goodnight in the inn, Emilian unexpectedly brought up this topic. Her tone was like a child begging for a bedtime story from their parents.

She must be sleepy, but the fact that she brought it up suggests that she has wanted to ask me for a while and has been waiting for the right moment.

I hesitated about how to answer. I considered lying with a pretty lie, but the words that slipped out were unexpected even to me.

"...If I tell you the truth, you might not like me, Emilian."

I turned over to face Emilian.

The room provided to us was not particularly spacious. I have no complaints. Thanks to Alex's instructions, we are staying in a room at the inn for free—though from their perspective, it might be more accurate to say they are protecting us. I am truly grateful for this small, compact room with two beds placed side by side. Even though we are in different beds, it feels like we are sharing one.

Emilian seemed to be struggling with my vague words. Her expression was so cute that I couldn't help but laugh. Seeing this, Emilian's face became even more serious, and I felt a bit guilty.

"I'm sorry, that was a mean thing to say. ...I wanted to leave my village... I come from a small village, and I wanted to see the world. I thought, 'I need a skill to do that,' so..."

I spoke quickly, then took a deep breath to make up for the lack of oxygen and looked at Emilian. She was wide-eyed with surprise.

Silence fell. What did Emilian think of my reason for becoming a concoctionist? I tried to wrap it in some nice words, but it was still a selfish reason.

"It's a pretty selfish reason. Haha."

Unable to bear the silence, I tried to turn it into a joke with a deliberately bright voice. But my hollow laughter was stopped by Emilian's firm voice: "No!"

I looked at her in surprise. Her blue eyes were piercing straight into me.

"That day... the day the monsters attacked the city, you running around the mansion was so dazzling. I've always walked the path that was decided for me. I did everything as my father said... I even got engaged to Alex. So, I admire you, Laura, for walking the path you chose, even though you're younger than me."

Her unexpected words made me catch my breath.

Thinking about it, I don't know much about Emilian's background. She must come from a noble family to be engaged to Alex Platnovena, who governs a territory. She is also from Flaria, where the legend of the "spirit's drinking water" is passed down.

However, her words had a convincing power that made me nod in agreement. I had always felt that Emilian was a young lady who had been raised with great care.

"Of course, I'm not dissatisfied with my life! On the contrary, I'm very happy... so happy that it's scary. I am aware that I have a very blessed life. But..."

"That's a different matter, isn't it?"

I continued where Emilian left off. She sighed in relief and smiled softly.

Emilian's words could be misinterpreted as malicious if spoken to the wrong person. She comes from a privileged background. Born into a family with some power, she will likely live a life as a cherished wife of a lord. Some might be angry at her for complaining from such a position.

She must have understood this, which is why she was relieved by my words.

"I can understand a little. I wanted to leave my village because I thought I would only be able to walk the path that was decided for me if I stayed..."

I chose this path to escape the predetermined career. Although the path ahead has become more than that now, I felt I could understand Emilian's feelings a little.

Emilian's face softened, looking young.

Over the past few days, I have been with Emilian all the time. Naturally, we have grown closer, and I have developed a certain affection for her. However, it also felt a bit too early to share our deepest thoughts.

This is probably due to our current situation. We left our loved ones behind in the war zone, have no news of them, and are just waiting for the next instructions. The anxiety we feel can only be shared with each other—thinking about this, it's not surprising that our relationship has deepened so quickly.

Seeing Emilian's troubled face and her cloudy blue eyes, I spoke, even though I knew it wouldn't help.

"Even if it's a predetermined path, you are the one walking it."

Even if the path is predetermined and you are walking it, you are not being controlled by others. If you have the will to deviate from the path and walk your own, you can do it at any time.

However, Emilian didn't seem to want that. She was just a bit weak and wavering in this situation.

I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

—That night, we didn't talk any more and let the sleep take us.

***

Around noon, a concoctionist from the Anea branch visited us.

"Ah, Laura..."

"...What is it?"

I wanted to call out his name but couldn't.

He seemed to be in charge of our care, but this was only our second conversation. The first was when we visited the branch, and this was the second.

"There's a letter for you from the capital."

I gasped at the white envelope he held out to me.

"It's from Casper, here, please."

I hesitated for a moment but then took it.

It's okay. It's not a letter from Platnovena. There's no need to be so afraid. Even if we continue to stay in Anea, we need clear instructions from our superiors to move forward.

Despite knowing this, my heart was beating faster than usual. I laughed at myself for being such a coward.

I opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper with just a few lines of hastily written text. I imagined Casper must have been in a hurry.

"What...?"

An anxious voice came from behind me. It was Emilian. I could imagine she was trying to smile but failing, even without looking.

—Please return to the capital. If you are with someone else, please bring them along. A concoctionist will be sent to Anea to replace you, so don't worry. I'm glad you are safe.

That was all the letter said.

"...We are to return to the capital. Another concoctionist will be sent to replace us."

I had a vague feeling this would happen.

I was somewhat relieved by Casper's instructions. Without clear instructions and with no news from Platnovena, the people at the Anea branch were at a loss about how to handle us. This situation was slowly eroding my mental state.

Returning to the capital would mean getting clear instructions from Casper and not feeling out of place. I should be able to focus more on concoction. Plus, being in the capital would make it easier to get information. Although Anea is closer, all the information would be centralized in the capital. Casper would surely share any news about Arnold and Alex with us without reservation. It's possible that we—two young girls—were being kept in the dark even if information was coming in.

We were being left alone to the point where I had such thoughts.

Being able to escape this situation should be a good thing.

I turned to Emilian with a modest smile. But the expression on her face was completely different from mine.