NOVPUBWhen Ludger first brazenly dumped all the ingredients together, those watching felt one overwhelming emotion—horror.
‘He’s using all of that without even refining it first? Has he gone mad?’
The assistant who had been keeping watch, just in case something happened, seriously debated whether to intervene.
But the moment he hesitantly rose from his seat, he froze—because Ludger added something else.
‘Wait, is that the Polytan sap he crushed and turned into juice earlier?’
After combining all sorts of mana-infused herbs, Ludger poured the Polytan sap over them.
And then something astonishing happened.
‘The toxins from the mana herbs... they’re rising to the surface?’
The tightly bundled mana herbs were submerged in the sap, and the toxins were gently floating to the top of the liquid’s surface.
He had completely separated the most dangerous part of mana herbs—the toxins.
‘I knew Polytan leaves had detoxifying properties, but this...’
There’s no way simple sap could produce that effect on its own.
It had clearly been magically treated.
‘Did that ingredient always have that kind of effect?’
Then Ludger placed a dried leaf onto the surface of the sap. The toxins floating there were absorbed into the leaf.
The green leaf turned completely black.
With the toxins removed, Ludger used sterilized tongs to take the mana herb mass out of the sap and placed it into a large vial.
The entire process flowed seamlessly, like water.
Chris Bennimore watched the scene as if entranced.
He had forgotten he was even spying—he was staring so intently.
‘What the hell? What technique is that?’
To someone like Chris, who had formal training in pharmacology, what Ludger was doing made no sense.
He had used ten separate advanced herbs and mana reagents—each of which was difficult to handle on its own.
‘That should’ve ended in failure.’
And if it just failed, that would’ve been lucky.
If even one of those herbs had released mana in the wrong direction, there would’ve been an explosion—not an alchemical one, but one right here in the apothecary lab.
But the worst-case scenario never happened.
Not even a hint of something going wrong.
So does that mean Ludger had just successfully created a medicine using all those dangerous ingredients?
‘No way. Sure, nothing blew up, but that doesn’t mean it actually works as ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) medicine.’
Just then, Ludger finished the final step: compressing the compound into pill form.
Chris narrowed his eyes, watching the pill intently.
He wanted to see what the pill’s surface looked like.
A properly made pill would have a smooth and even texture. In contrast, a failed one would be cracked or uneven.
But the pill Ludger had just created was flawless—so much so that “perfect” didn’t feel like an exaggeration.
‘He actually succeeded?’
He had used ingredients so dangerous, just handling them improperly could be fatal—and yet, he’d created something real?
Moreover, a soft glow of mana swirled gently inside the translucent pill, clearly marking it as something far beyond ordinary.
Chris nearly opened his mouth to ask how it had been made—but barely stopped himself.
His pride wouldn’t allow it.
‘Now that I think about it, the pills he takes weren’t sold anywhere on the market.’
Could it be that every single one was handmade?
Did he really create his own medicine from scratch?
“Wh-What is this?”
Unable to suppress his curiosity, the assistant stepped forward and asked.
Graduate students and soon-to-be graduates—who had been quietly watching nearby—did the same.
They were all waiting for Ludger’s answer.
“It’s something to restore mana.”
“A mana recovery pill, then. May I take a look?”
“Don’t.”
The assistant, just about to test the pill, froze at Ludger’s rejection.
“If you try to use it recklessly, it’ll trigger a mana rampage.”
“S-Sorry?”
“It’s made solely to restore mana. No other effects were considered. I only removed the lethal toxins from the body.”
If an average mage took it, their mana would go berserk on the spot.
Even if someone consumed it after depleting all their mana, the sheer amount of energy restored would overwhelm them.
The assistant looked like he didn’t quite believe Ludger’s warning.
Sure, he’d used dangerous mana herbs—but how effective could it really be?
It was at that moment Chris stepped forward.
“He’s right.”
“P-Professor Chris Bennimore?”
Chris visited this place frequently, so he was on relatively familiar terms with the assistant.
The assistant hadn’t expected Chris Bennimore to support Ludger—and was clearly flustered.
“Just from the ingredients alone, it’s easy to assume this pill would not only replenish mana in a depleted body, it would overflow—enough to tear someone apart. If you're unlucky, your entire mana nervous system would be scorched.”
“You saw correctly.”
“Hmph. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes. And it’s just as obvious how dangerous that pill is.”
Even if 80% of the ingredients were lost in the manufacturing process, the remaining 20% alone could destroy a person.
Effectiveness, risk, efficiency—
Of the three critical factors in medicine-making, this pill prioritized only [effectiveness] and discarded the other two entirely.
Even though the toxins had been removed, this was more dangerous than poison.
That was the kind of pill Ludger had created.
“Planning to commit suicide or something?”
“If that were the case, I wouldn’t have made so many.”
“Then what? You actually plan to use it?”
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”
As Ludger answered, staring directly at Chris, a strange sensation ran through Chris’s chest.
His every movement, tone, expression—
He didn’t look like a man bluffing to show off.
‘He’s... serious?’
Chris already knew Ludger suffered from a mana deficiency—he’d seen him take a pill during the banquet.
Whether it was a chronic illness or something else, Ludger no longer seemed interested in hiding it.
It was already exposed, after all—no reason to keep it secret.
‘Even so, using something that extreme isn’t normal.’
This wasn’t just about mana overload.
Even a high-ranking mage would suffer from uncontrollable mana surges if they took it.
No matter how skilled Ludger was as a Seorn instructor, there’s no way his body could safely handle this pill’s effects.
‘Unless... his mana release rate is insanely high.’
If mana is water stored in a tank, the release rate is the pipe used to draw it out.
The most important trait for a mage is obviously the amount of mana they possess.
Without enough mana, you can’t cast proper spells.
But the second most important trait is release rate.
If you have a lot of mana but a narrow outlet, it’s like trying to drain a reservoir with a ladle—it’s meaningless.
A mage with high release rate can be more effective than one with high mana.
Even someone with just 5 units of mana, if they can release 3 at a time, is more effective than someone with 10 who can only release 1.
‘But most mages can’t release even 10% of their total mana at once.’
Release rate can be improved through training, like strengthening muscles.
A veteran mage might reach higher levels—but even then, exceeding 20% is difficult.
There are rare exceptions that reach over 30%, but such cases are extremely rare.
‘And yet he can do that? That’s impossible.’
Still, from their past duel, Chris had realized that Ludger’s mana release rate was abnormally high.
Whatever condition he had, his mana deficiency was constant—but that made sense now.
‘Even so, this pill... it’s too much.’
This wasn’t something any normal person could take.
“Assistant. You’ve confirmed everything, haven’t you? Still have questions?”
“N-No, sir.”
The assistant, realizing he could no longer question Ludger, quietly returned to his seat.
Still, he couldn’t completely suppress his curiosity and kept sneaking glances.
Chris, after surveying the surrounding people, quietly asked so only Ludger could hear:
“Do you have to keep taking those pills because of a chronic condition?”
Ludger, who had just finished packing the pills into a case, looked at Chris like he didn’t know what he was talking about.
“You’re constantly restoring your mana, which means it’s constantly being drained. But I’ve never heard of any disease like that.”
“You wouldn’t have. Because there isn’t one.”
In the first place, it wasn’t really an illness—it was a matter of constitution.
Which is why no one could’ve known.
"More than anything, I’m surprised, Professor Chris. I didn’t expect you to be curious about something like this."
"What’s surprising about it?"
"Didn’t you deliberately target this exact issue during our duel?"
"......"
Chris was momentarily at a loss for words at Ludger’s pointed remark.
"And now you’re feeling sympathy?"
"......I know you won’t believe me, but let me say this—Deputy Headmaster Hugo was the one who made that proposal first."
It was true that Chris had revealed Ludger’s use of medicine to Hugo.
But even he hadn’t expected Hugo to break into the faculty room and steal it behind his back.
As a noble, Chris had pride—he didn’t like such dishonorable methods.
"Hah. I get it. In the end, it’s all just an excuse."
He hadn’t imagined Hugo would go so far as to order Devian to do something like that.
Maybe the mistake was letting Hugo discover Ludger’s weakness in the first place.
"I won’t say I’m completely innocent. Even if I didn’t intend it, I acted in a way unbefitting of a noble."
Chris admitted his wrongdoing honestly.
He was fully aware that what he had done had been disgraceful.
To be perfectly frank—
He still didn’t like Ludger.
At first, it had been anger—because Ludger had taken over the Specialization field that Chris was supposed to be teaching.
A fallen noble threatening his position? For Chris—whose family had already declined—it had felt like a serious threat.
An arrogant, fallen noble.
That had been his entire opinion of Ludger.
But over time, his thoughts had changed.
Ludger was a fallen noble who showed no attachment to his lineage—and had outright rejected Hugo’s offer.
That alone set him in contrast with Chris, who clung to noble connections to maintain his family's status.
Ludger invented new magic and taught it to students.
Chris, on the other hand, refused to share even the secret techniques of his own family.
When the werewolf incident broke out, Ludger had taken the lead to protect the students.
Chris, fooled by Hugo’s lies, had suspected the students were the culprits.
In everything, Ludger seemed to stand at the opposite end of Chris.
His every action struck a nerve.
Chris hadn’t wanted to admit it—but he had no choice.
He was jealous of this man.
"Take this."
Unable to voice any of that aloud, Chris simply tossed a vial toward Ludger.
Ludger caught it lightly in the air and gave him a questioning look.
"It’s our family’s special mana stabilizer. If you take that pill of yours as-is, your body might not handle it. This should help smooth it out."
Chris clicked his tongue awkwardly as he spoke, as if embarrassed.
"You’re really giving this to me?"
"What, you think I’d hand out fake medicine?"
"You never struck me as the generous type."
"......Are you trying to pick a fight?"
"It’s genuine admiration."
"Hmph. Say what you want, but I’m still of the Bennimore family."
The Bennimores had always made medicine.
Medicine to heal people. Medicine to cure illness.
Even if they’d fallen behind the times, what they had always pursued was devotion to others.
That was why Chris handed Ludger the medicine so readily.
Even if he resented and envied the man—if someone was sick, he would give them the medicine they needed.
"Let me make one thing clear—I still don’t acknowledge you. But I’m not the type to just sit by while someone attempts something that insane."
Ludger stared at him, surprised.
He knew exactly how valuable that vial was.
‘A mana stabilizer is expensive and rare.’
It’s a medicine used to suppress mana rampage in mages—a treatment, not a simple supplement.
It’s not something for ordinary people. Only mages can use it. The ingredients are special, and the cost is high.
And Chris Bennimore had handed it over without hesitation.
He acted like it was no big deal, but it was a real expense, a genuine loss.
‘So he’s not just some prideful noble after all.’
Of course, that didn’t erase Ludger’s negative impression of him—he was still a self-important aristocrat.
But...
At the very least, he seemed more like a real noble than the ones who only talked big.
"You gave it to me, so refusing would be impolite. I’ll put it to good use."
As Ludger carefully stored the vial, Chris scoffed through his nose, but didn’t say anything else.
Still, he seemed secretly satisfied to see Ludger accept it so readily.
With their business done, Chris turned to finally begin crafting his own potion—but then paused at Ludger’s sudden, unexpected action.
"What... are you doing right now?"
Ludger was drying and crushing the leaf that had absorbed the toxic mana from earlier.
He carefully collected the resulting powder into a small pile, then began sweeping it into a container.
"Seems like a waste to throw it out."
Ludger answered in a flat, emotionless tone.
Chris was momentarily speechless.
"You... you do realize how dangerous that is, right?"
"I do."
"What?"
"And actually, this is the real stuff."
"......"
Ludger wasn’t even planning to discard the extracted toxins from the mana herbs—he was going to use them.
For the first time, Chris felt something toward Ludger that wasn’t irritation.
It was pure, unfiltered admiration.
