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On the second day of my visit home, I went to the regular checkup scheduled at the Black Dragon Lantern Clinic. Estea said she would explore the town with Hom and Alfe while she waited, and she came along with me as far as the clinic.

“…How’s high school life treating you? I hear you’ve been doing quite well.”

After the routine tests were done, Director Ludsef asked in his usual calm tone.

“Doing well?”
“Yes. You won the Zersteller—Canalford Cup, didn’t you?”
“Huh…?”

I couldn’t help but be surprised to hear Zersteller, and even more so the Canalford Cup, come out of Director Ludsef’s mouth. There were several different tournaments under that name, so I hadn’t expected him to pinpoint the exact one we’d won.

“You’re familiar with the Zersteller, Director?”
“Not particularly. But your victory was quite the achievement for someone from this town. The newspaper made quite a feature of it. I heard your father even clipped out the article and put it up. Haven’t you seen it?”

Come to think of it, that hadn’t come up since I came home. Maybe when the topic of school came around, Father deliberately avoided mentioning it out of consideration for Estea, who had been the previous year’s champion and my opponent in the finals.

“I’ll have to ask Father to show me later.”
“You should.”

With a gentle smile, Director Ludsef removed the stethoscope from his ears.

“Now then, as for your results—No changes, for better or worse.”

I nodded; it was about what I’d expected. Given that my aether level remained unmeasurable, this outcome made sense. Judging by how far the needle had swung before hitting its limit, it didn’t seem to have increased either. I’d just have to take things patiently.

“I suppose that’s good news for me,” I said, letting him know I was relieved so he and my parents wouldn’t worry.
“Insofar as there’s no threat to your life, yes, that’s fair to say. The only remaining question is how aging-related decline might affect you—but in your case, that may not even apply.”
“In that case… could that mean I might outlive an ordinary human lifespan?”

It wasn’t something I hadn’t considered before, but if my growth had truly stopped, that might very well be the implication.

“At this rate, yes. You might even reach eternal youth and immortality itself.”
“Immortality…”

I echoed the word, but it didn’t hold much appeal for me. Honestly, I wasn’t seeking something like that. Even if my brain, the only developing part of my body, could keep taking in limitless knowledge and memories, I wasn’t sure it would be a blessing. Living long meant enduring that many more farewells. I couldn’t yet imagine it, but if solitude ever came for me again, I doubted I’d have the strength to bear it.

Still, if it wasn’t truly endless—if my lifespan merely aligned with Alfe’s, a half-elf who lived far longer than humans—then perhaps that was a kind of fortune for me.

Though, who could say when the goddesses’ whims might next put my life in danger?

“…There’s something I’d like to consult you about, if you don’t mind.”

Director Ludsef’s hesitant voice cut into the midst of my idle thoughts.

“What is it?”

I lifted my head, realizing I’d been staring down at the floor, and met his gaze. Behind the black-rimmed glasses, his eyes seemed to glimmer with a trace of curiosity.

“The clinical trials for the Demi-Nectar have been going well. We’ve gathered quite a bit of data from the test subjects.”
“…Are you short on the medicine?”

One of the reasons I’d come home was to ensure my mother had an ample supply of the drug. I’d already entrusted the recipe to Director Ludsef, so I hadn’t been too worried, but I still felt guilty about leaving it entirely in his hands.

“In short—yes. Not immediately, but sooner or later we’ll need to begin mass production. The problem is, when it’s made by hand, there are too many steps involved. I see that as an issue we’ll have to resolve.”

If patients suffering from the Black Stone Disease caught wind of this medicine, they would come seeking it with desperate hope. As a doctor, Ludsef could never turn them away. But if he continued that way, eventually there would not be enough to go around. His concern was entirely reasonable.

Still, it seemed a little unusual to bring up as a “consultation.”

“…So, what you wanted to ask me about is a possible solution?”
“As sharp as ever,” he said, relaxing slightly, though his expression still held a touch of surprise.

“The truth is, research into Dark Matter is being conducted at the Western Seventh Magic Laboratory. Because of the exposure risk to Black Stone Disease there, I expect the number of consultation requests will rise in the coming years. As a physician, I’d like to take preventive measures before that happens.”

Ah, that made sense. The Demi-Nectar worked best when administered early—it could slow the progression to nearly zero. For the laboratory, too, that would be of tremendous benefit.

“I think that’s an excellent idea. A research institute like that must already have well-equipped facilities.”
“Indeed. I recently made the acquaintance of Chief Researcher Kisara, who’s highly regarded as the next director of the institute—that’s what gave me the idea. She’s young, but exceptionally intelligent. If I consult her, we might be able to use the lab’s facilities to begin mass production of the suppressant.”

From the way Director Ludsef spoke, it was clear he held both trust and high expectations for this Chief Researcher Kisara of the Seventh Magic Laboratory.

“I completely agree. If necessary, you can even entrust her with the recipe.”
“About that—”

Nodding at my response, Director Ludsef leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixing squarely on mine.

“The recipe included, this Demi-Nectar is your research achievement. So once mass production becomes feasible, I’d like you to present the drug to the academic society yourself.”
“…Understood.”

With that earnest look in his eyes, there was no way I could refuse.

Back when I was Glass, every bit of my research and recognition had been stolen by others—academic societies, sponsors, even peers. But here, it was different. For once, I could trust people. I could feel that again.

“However, please give me a little time. Before publishing, I’d like to obtain the certification of a Special-Class Alchemist, so that my work can stand as a legitimate achievement.”

Staying as a Third-Class Alchemist would only raise suspicion. It would be far more convincing—and much safer—if I held the qualifications befitting the creator of such a medicine.

“That’s a wise approach. Then I’ll look forward to it, until the time is right.”

His warm smile sealed the discussion on a satisfying note.

All right, then. It hadn’t been part of the plan, but I would have to move quickly to earn the Special-Class Alchemist certification. It shouldn’t pose much of a challenge given my current knowledge, though I’d have to be careful not to attract too much attention.

As I thought that, Melua’s face surfaced in my mind. Ah, right. With a senior like Melua already holding the title, my own qualification wouldn’t stand out too much after all.