OHNIR - Chapter 70
Chapter 70: The Experiment
In the study, the Duke, who had just learned from someone else that he might soon have a daughter-in-law, sat across from the medical officer. The latter looked quite pleased with himself after having divulged the secret.
“By the way, you weren’t so busy gossiping that you forgot the actual task I gave you, were you?” Reginald asked, looking at his unreliable old friend with considerable suspicion.
“Hmph, how could I forget something so important!” Dite snorted, raising a third finger. “Regarding the royal ball, this is precisely the third reason I wanted to talk to you.”
“…Don’t tell me Wend has already invited that girl to be his dance partner?” the Duke said, shocked. “If that’s the case, I should start looking for someone to divine a wedding date.”
“Er—although I think that’s the idea, Wend still insists he’s attending the ball alone,” Dite said, scratching his head and scrunching up his baby face. “However, Miss Gloria specifically asked me to tell you that she has already decided who she will be inviting this year.”
“She’s not planning to invite the princess again, is she?” Reginald said disapprovingly. “I’ve told Lux time and again that even if she doesn’t want a partner, she can’t keep using a member of the royal family as a stand-in…”
“Oh, no, no, no, I don’t think it’s the Second Princess this time.” Seeing that the man, a firm believer that “daughters become harder to manage as they grow older,” was about to launch into a tirade, Dite, who didn’t even have children, quickly cut off his complaints and sped up his denial.
“Miss Gloria said that this time, she will personally write the invitation in her own name. In previous years, the invitations to the palace were sent in the name of the Silentdis family. Therefore, I suspect Miss Gloria’s partner will be someone else this time.”
Reginald saw the conspiratorial wink Dite gave him and had a sudden realization. “Are you suggesting… the person Lux wants to invite is the very girl we were just discussing?”
“Correct. Speaking of which, when Lady Gloria mentioned this to me, she and that young lady shared a very knowing smile.”
“But… if she’s the one Lux is inviting, what does that have to do with Wend?” The silver-haired duke tapped his fingers on the desk, getting straight to the point. “You just said you were presenting this as evidence of his budding romance.”
“Hah,” Dite pursed his lips and shook his head, looking exasperated. “Reginald, and you have the nerve to call Wend a block of wood… I see it now. Like father, like son. You’re just as dense as he is!”
The Duke, whose emotional intelligence had just been inexplicably insulted, retorted, “…Isn’t what I said perfectly logical?”
“Of course not!” the baby-faced expert in romance declared in a loud, confident tone. “Haven’t you ever heard of a roundabout approach? I already told you, Wend is incredibly thin-skinned. He tested a potion on her and still insists she’s just a regular classmate. So of course he wouldn’t dare invite her to be his partner himself.”
Reginald paused, the pieces clicking into place. “So you mean…”
“It seems you understand now,” Dite said, laying out his analysis. “So, it doesn’t matter who sends the invitation. At the ball, anyone who steps foot in the palace could potentially become Wend’s partner. In conclusion, I have a reasonable suspicion that Lady Gloria’s maneuver is designed to get that young lady into the palace first, after which Wend will step in and formally ask her to be his partner!”
Reginald was silent.
Dite sighed.
The two elders looked at each other and sighed in unison, frustrated with the boy’s lack of initiative. “How pathetic!”
The “pathetic” Wend they were discussing was currently in the potions classroom, oblivious to the world outside as he toiled away.
Several rabbits crunched on carrots at his feet, their ruby-red eyes filled with bewilderment, completely unaware that they were the poor creatures the silver-haired boy had brought in as test subjects.
Dite’s examination results had given Wend a clue. The amount of Moonlight Vine in both the Antipyretic Potion and the standard Fake Illness Potion was minimal. Even if Kelusta had drunk many vials due to her drug-resistant constitution, it was unlikely that traces of the juice would still be detectable in her blood after so much time had passed.
The problem could only lie with the Fake Illness Potion.
And besides Starangui, who had briefly entered the potions classroom at that time, no one else had the opportunity to tamper with the potion right under Wend’s nose.
…He had been too careless.
He was, indeed, primarily responsible for Kelusta’s ordeal.
What he didn’t understand was how. Starangui’s grades in potions class had always been mediocre, even worse than Gloria’s. With that level of skill, she could at most stand out in the academy’s final exams. How could she have possibly managed to crack the formula for the Fake Illness Potion?
While it wasn’t an exceptionally advanced potion, it was at least a new type that no one had ever discovered before. Based on the potion-making skills Starangui had demonstrated, Wend was certain she absolutely did not have the ability to alter the properties of the entire concoction.
Even the current professors at the magic academy would likely not be confident they could completely transform a nearly finished, previously unstudied potion into something entirely different in such a short amount of time.
The only possible point of suspicion was the ingredients used that day.
Wend opened a storage cabinet and looked down at the box labeled “Moonlight Vine.” He gently opened it and, as expected, saw the pitifully small amount of dark green vine inside.
The Moonlight Vine only grew during a full moon. For it to mature enough to be used in potions, one had to wait for at least seven or eight full moons—and that was without accounting for interference from cloudy or rainy weather. Thus, although it wasn’t difficult to cultivate, its yield was extremely low.
The academy wouldn’t let half-baked students waste such an expensive ingredient, but for Wend, who needed to run an experiment, this amount was sufficient.
He casually took a piece of the vine and returned to his workstation. He arranged all the previously prepared ingredients neatly at his side: lionfish eyeballs, Milkweed flower juice, Terra City rose thorns, Spotted Phosphorous Butterfly wings, and a small capful of slime from a shell-less snail… Various containers cluttered the bench. The silver-haired potions genius raised a hand, first pouring the faintly fragrant, pale green juice into a preheated miniature cauldron.
There were too many possible combinations to test… He would have to use a slow, methodical process.
Although he was almost certain that the princess was the one who had sabotaged the potion, the Silentdis family’s inherent caution demanded that he investigate every potential risk before he could sleep soundly.
With a stoic expression, Wend added different ingredients to the cauldron again and again, repeating the cycle of turning off the heat, pouring out the potion, cleaning the equipment, and preheating it once more. He focused his mind, slowly and carefully testing different combinations and dosages. He didn’t stop even after the sun had set and the rabbits had fallen fast asleep.
This incident had been a wake-up call: it wasn’t just strangers and enemies he had to be wary of. Even long-term allies, bound by mutual interests, could not be trusted in the slightest.
Starangui had known Gloria for years. He had thought that the princess, who at least appeared gentle and harmless, would be a somewhat reasonable person. He never expected her to be so ruthless when harming someone close to her own sister.
…It seemed that, apart from a few close friends and family, no one was worthy of trust.
The silver-haired boy sighed softly. The last shred of innocence, long hidden behind a cold and rigid facade, finally dissipated. He had been too well-protected by his father and sister, always holding an overly optimistic view of the relationships between nobles, always letting down his guard too easily…
If Kelusta had intended to harm him, Wend, who had willingly shown her kindness, would have likely fallen into her trap countless times by now.
As an heir, he couldn’t always live in the shadow of his family. His father and sister were blinded by their affection for him, but he couldn’t just accept it complacently… Otherwise, even a family that had endured for centuries would one day be destroyed by a foolish leader.
The re-boiled Milkweed flower juice slowly swallowed the fig skin powder floating on its surface. Lost in thought, Wend flicked his wrist, pouring the freshly extracted Moonlight Vine slime into the cauldron. He gripped the small, long-handled ladle in his hand, which was already beginning to ache, and stirred until the potion was completely mixed. Only then did he extinguish the flame and pour the still-warm liquid into a prepared test tube.
He exhaled, stretching his shoulders and arms. Looking at the neat row of test tubes, he decided to take a break and test the results of his work.
Wend bent down and casually picked up a gray, long-eared rabbit, waking the little creature from its deep slumber and placing it steadily on the workstation.
The rabbit stared with its bright red eyes, watching Wend’s fluid motions as he drew the potion into a syringe. Its long ears twitched slightly before drooping pitifully.
Wend slowly injected the mixture of Milkweed flower juice, fig skin powder, and Moonlight Vine slime into the gray rabbit. He then pulled over a nearby stool and sat down, finally allowing his aching muscles to rest for the first time.
He lazily watched the rabbit, which was now energetically sniffing the tabletop. He grabbed a thermometer from a drawer under the bench, tucked the bulb under the rabbit’s fur, and waited quietly for the mercury to rise.
After a while, the rabbit’s three-lobed mouth, which had been chewing happily, gradually slowed. Its whole body slumped listlessly onto the table. Wend frowned, observing the thermometer, and keenly noticed that the gray rabbit seemed to be running a low-grade fever.
“…”
Wend looked at the neat row of half-finished potions on the test tube rack, then at the thermometer with its clearly abnormal reading and the half-empty syringe beside it. He began to seriously question himself—
Why was he being so dense, doing all this pointless work?
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