Chapter 86

The inside of the greenhouse was sweltering.

The high temperature and humidity maintained for optimal plant growth forced unexpected manual labor onto the students who had come to plant mandrake seedlings.

A third-year upperclassman of noble birth grumbled several times about why she had to do such work and went out for some fresh air…. never to return.

Amidst all this, the first to finish planting her seedling was Jacqueline.

“I’ll help you guys.”

Rita and Shannon, on the verge of cramping in their arms and legs, gladly welcomed the offer.

Wiping the moisture off her fogged-up glasses, Rita marveled.

“Jacqueline, you’re amazing. Aren’t you tired after all that?”

“Maybe it’s because this feels like farming? Ugh, I hate that this suits me better than magic. My dream was to be an elegant city mage…”

“There are people who grow plants in the city too. In Karaf, magical gardeners are respected wherever they go. You’ll be a great magical gardener even in Karaf.”

Shannon, who said this, was slumped against the wall with her chin tilted up toward the ceiling.

Beads of sweat shimmered on the nape of her neck as she caught her breath.

“Wow, unbelievable. I think that’s the first compliment I’ve ever gotten from Shannon.”

“I don’t even have the energy to nitpick right now.”

“You guys are seriously out of shape. Let’s start working out together in the mornings starting tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Jacqueline, you’re the weird one.”

“Should I seriously consider this as a career path…?”

Jacqueline, who had been deep in thought with her chin propped up on her fingers, suddenly burst out in protest.

“What do you think I left my hometown for?! That’s it. I’m never becoming a farmer ever again! Oh…senior, let me help you!”

Luke, the oldest among the students, was planting a seedling on behalf of Stephanie who had stormed out earlier.

Jacqueline hurried over to assist him.

“You don’t have to force yourself.”

“It’s fine. I can’t just let you do all the work, can I? Besides, I’ve still got plenty of energy. You, on the other hand, don’t look so good, senior. Shouldn’t you take a break?”

“Even if it’s hard, it still has to get done…”

As expected of a graduate student who’d spent years grinding through the academy. He had the stubborn grit of a zombie.

While Jacqueline diligently dug into the soil, Rita and Shannon eventually joined in to help.

Rita asked Luke,

“Senior, you’re a graduate student from the Elemental Magic Department, right?”

“You know who I am?”

“Just your name, that’s all.”

“Well, I’m honored.”

“But if you’ve already graduated, why are you taking Professor Winslet’s class? I mean, for undergraduates it’s one thing, but you don’t need any more credits, right?”

“That’s true… but there’s still so much to learn. I mean, when would a graduate student like me or undergrads like you ever get a chance to work with real mandrakes? Usually, only professors or research labs get access to stuff like this.”

“That’s true. But then, what’s that planted over there? It doesn’t look like a mandrake.”

“It’s a plant I’m researching personally. Don’t touch it carelessly….it’s extremely dangerous. You could get seriously hurt, even someone like Professor Winslet.”

“Oh—got it. I’ll be careful.”

“Good. Please make sure your friends know too.”

With the four of them working together, they finished planting the seedlings in no time.

As they took a short break, Rita spoke up.

“Professor Winslet is really amazing. I thought he only specialized in ice magic, but he’s surprisingly knowledgeable in a lot of different fields. I mean, making a mandrake depressed? I’ve never even read about that in a book. Shannon, did you know?”

“Only that something like that existed.”

But Shannon held back the part about it being one of the secret techniques that alchemists guarded with their lives.

Jacqueline narrowed her eyes and said,

“But doesn’t the method of making a mandrake depressed seem a little… odd?”

“Odd how?”

“Well, like….‘Keep it in a dark, poorly ventilated space’. ‘Isolate it so its roots don’t touch other mandrakes’. ‘Trim off any new leaves as soon as they grow’. That last one especially. And then there’s: ‘Say something critical to it once a day’.”

Shannon nodded.

“I was surprised at how simple it all was. Can such minor things really increase a mandrake’s potency?”

“No, it’s not that. It just… feels a little unsettling, kind of unpleasant…”

“So, what exactly are we supposed to say? Like, how do you even criticize a plant?”

“You try it, Jacqueline.”

“Me?”

Feeling a little embarrassed under the expectant gazes of her two friends, Jacqueline opened her mouth.

“Uh, um… You’re even worse than a potato.”

Rita snorted.

“Why a potato, of all things?”

“Are you just copying Professor Winslet?”

Jacqueline shrugged her shoulders.

“There’s just… something about it.”

***

A cloudy afternoon.

Luke Rousseau was passing by the academy’s main building on his way to the library.

The front of the building was bustling with noise.

All across the academy, heated discussions were underway about how to reorganize the student council that had collapsed only a few weeks earlier.

The crowd gathered in front of the main building was a group of demonstrators, urging the academy to allow the new student council president to be elected by student vote.

Traditionally, the presidency had been inherited. The academy’s board of directors selected candidates through internal review, and the existing council executives nominated one from among them.

But with the scandal surrounding former president Bernard, the authoritarian conduct of the noble executives had been exposed for all to see.

Now, the academy faced simultaneous demands from commoner students for both a non-noble leadership and a democratic election process.

Though not yet officially announced, it was all but decided that the new student council president would be chosen by popular vote.

In fact, just a few days earlier, Luke Rousseau had even been invited by the administration to join the very first election committee to be established at the academy.

It was clear they wanted to include a respected commoner student on the committee.

But Luke had flatly declined.

I’m sorry. Right now, I just want to focus on my research.

That had been his answer.

Anyway, with the student vote now almost certain and the majority of the academy’s students being commoners, it was highly likely that the next student council president would come from a commoner background.

Since the president had the authority to appoint the council members, the entire student council was expected to be composed of commoners as well.

The academy administration, concerned about the leadership being biased toward one side, had discussed a rule to ensure an equal number of noble and commoner members in the council.

However, the rule was scrapped after a group of noble students issued a statement declaring they would boycott council activities if the president were a commoner.

It seemed inevitable that the conflict between commoner and noble students would only deepen.

What kind of future awaited the academy?

Though he felt both regret and unease, Luke Rousseau believed that the academy’s peace was not his concern.

He had a more important goal to achieve here.

Before he knew it, he had arrived at the library.

At the front desk, Luke asked for a particular librarian.

A moment later, an elderly woman with glasses approached him.

“Ah, Luke. You’re here.”

“I was notified that the review for my special access request has been completed.”

“That’s right. The decision was finalized just yesterday.”

“What’s the result?”

“We’ve decided to grant you access to the restricted books.”

Luke drew in a breath, clearly pleased.

But the librarian spoke again, her voice more serious.

“You applied to view a high-risk classification book from the archive, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“As part of the process, we reviewed your academic record, general conduct, and your advisor’s letter of recommendation. In the end, there was nothing wrong with your application.”

“I expected as much.”

“But there was quite a bit of concern internally.”

The librarian paused for a moment and looked at Luke.

“The book you requested is The Mysterious Death Recipes of Ingularia… an alchemical text containing formulas for the most lethal poisons in recorded history. If you ever choose to misuse the knowledge within it, the consequences could be devastating.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Yes. Your consistent good conduct is what convinced the head librarian. He said he’d trust your word that the knowledge would be used solely for your research project. So… congratulations.”

With that, the librarian handed him the permit.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure you already know, but access to restricted books is only allowed in the Special Reading Room, and under no circumstances may the contents be copied or transcribed.”

“I understand.”

“Still, I’m surprised. I’ve read the book myself, and every ingredient in those poison recipes is a banned substance…you can’t find them on the market. How do you plan to study the formulas?”

“As for the ingredients, I’m growing them myself. I recently received permission to use the greenhouse in the botanical garden.”

“What? There’s no way the academy would allow those kinds of plants to be cultivated…”

“Professor Winslet offered me his greenhouse.”

“Ah, so Professor Winslet was involved. In that case, I suppose there’s no issue.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Luke Rousseau replied with a gentle smile.

But for some reason, the librarian felt a strange chill from that smile.

Still, Luke Rousseau was the academy’s most well-known model student—

Consistently top of his class since his early years, and never once involved in any trouble.

I’m sure it’ll be fine.

That’s what she told herself as she let it go.

At the end of the long corridor, Luke’s figure disappeared into the shadows on his way to the Special Reading Room.

Rain had begun to fall outside the window.