Author: Shizuku	Original Source: Syosetu	Word Count: 2409 characters
Translator: Nomad	English Source: Re:Library	Word Count: – words
Editor(s): Robinxen

“A demon?” Fan Yen mutters, her tone laced with astonishment. It seems that demons are looked down upon, even by dragonborn like her. Annabelle also appears taken aback, her eyes widening in shock.

“Don’t worry, you can trust her.” Explaining my history with Flute would take far too long, so they’ll just have to accept this for now. At the very least, I know one thing for certain: demons always keep their promises.

“Flute, can you remove the curse?”

“This is an elven curse projectile known as Ordirum,” Flute begins, her voice calm and measured. “I thought it had been lost to time, but it seems some still know how to wield it. If you’re asking whether I can dispel it, the answer is yes. However, doing so would require far more than what our current debt covers.”

For a fleeting moment, hope flares within me—only to crumble again as her words sink in.

“Only a life can pay for another life. If her life is precious to you, you now know what it will cost.”

“Then take my soul—”

“You fool! Do you think Olivia would ever forgive you if you did that? Think rationally!” Fan Yen grabs my shoulder and pulls me back sharply.

She’s right. Olivia wouldn’t want that. But what other choice do I have?

“Instead, I can teach you how to create an antidote.”
“…That’s possible?”

Flute says it so casually that it takes a moment for the words to register.

“It is. But if you don’t want that option, we can always go with the first.” As usual, Flute grins with unnecessary sadism, clearly enjoying my turmoil. “Anyway, you’ll need these materials: ashes from a white poplar treant, Soul Reaving Toxin, and Spica Lily nectar.”

I know about Spica Lilies and white poplars, but Soul Reaving Toxin? That name alone sounds like something out of a nightmare.

“Those are insane materials,” Annabelle mutters under her breath. Coming from a seasoned alchemist like her, it’s even worse than I imagined.

“White poplars aren’t uncommon,” she continues, “but finding one that has transformed into a treant is much harder. Even if you had contacts in a lumberyard that handles white poplars, it would come down to sheer luck. And Soul Reaving Toxin? That’s practically a myth.”

“But we have Spica Lilies here,” I interject. “They bloom all over the forest, so that shouldn’t be too difficult, right?”

“Spica Lilies bloom under moonlight, but their nectar evaporates almost immediately. There’s only a five-minute window after they bloom when you can collect it. The flowers you see around are already empty, their scent lingering from the evaporated nectar.”

I feel a wave of frustration. I’d never realized the flowers I always saw nearby could be so troublesome to deal with.

“Soul Reaving Toxin,” Flute continues, “is the venom spat out by a monstrous snake called Kotomiwa that lived in Reibana five millennia ago. I’m fairly certain you’ve encountered it before.”

Flute’s explanation doesn’t inspire hope—if anything, it deepens my despair.

“You mean that underground swamp beneath the Urado family’s inner sanctum?”
“Yes, the same one where your pet spider fell in.”

There’s no way I could have collected any of that.

…Wait. Actually, I could have. If I had used my magic storage back then, I might have been able to gather some without touching it. That could save Olivia now.

“Wait! Maybe…” A memory flashes in my mind. “Would this work?”

I pull out two items from my magic storage: a piece of wood with white bark I had obtained in the Barnard region and the purple frozen chunks from the stew prepared for me at the dorm.

“Oh, you actually had these?” Flute’s voice carries a faint hint of disappointment, though it’s probably just my imagination.

“Are they the correct ingredients?”

“I swear it on the names of the Goddess of Light, Branses, and the Goddess of Darkness, Nowarel.” Hearing Flute invoke the names of the two highest deities reassures me that she’s telling the truth.

I hand the white poplar treant wood to Fan Yen.

“Fan Yen, burn this to ash.”
“Got it!”

Then I toss the frozen chunks into an alchemy cauldron and use magic to heat them up.

“But what about the Spica Lily? It’s too late to find one that hasn’t bloomed yet.”

“I’ve got that covered.” I walk over to the window and glance at the moonlight streaming in. From my storage, I take out a Spica Lily bud I had plucked earlier in the day.

The white bud unfurls as it bathes in moonlight, revealing its brilliant blue petals. A sweet, floral aroma fills the room as the bloom reaches its peak.

“Flute, will this work?!”
“You might want to extract the nectar first,” Flute replies dryly.
“I’ll do it,” Annabelle says, stepping forward.
“Thank you.”

Annabelle takes the Spica Lily and begins extracting its nectar while I check on the toxin. The purple chunks have fully melted, forming a thick liquid.

“This is ready too,” I announce¹.

“The Spica Lily nectar goes in last,” Flute instructs. “Start with the other ingredients first. It’s not a particularly complicated process.”

Following Flute’s guidance, I begin preparing the antidote. First, I add the ashes that Fan Yen has just brought into the cauldron containing the melted toxin. Carefully, I stir the mixture until it’s well combined, then bring it to a boil.

Once it reaches the right temperature, I reduce the heat and prepare for the final step.

“Miss Annabelle.”

“Yes, here you go,” she replies, handing me a small bottle filled with Spica Lily nectar.

I pour the nectar into the cauldron. The liquid, initially a murky purple, slowly transforms into a clear, vibrant green. As I continue stirring, the mixture cools, gradually taking on a shimmering appearance, like liquid emeralds.

“That’s it?” I ask, hardly believing it’s done.

“Yes, you’ve made it,” Flute confirms. “Now, get her to drink it as soon as possible.”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice. I prepare some water and move to Olivia’s side, gently waking her.

“Young Lady, your medicine is ready. Please drink it,” I say softly.

“Hm…? Okay…” Olivia’s voice is weak, barely more than a whisper, but she obediently opens her mouth. Carefully, I pour the antidote into her mouth, adding a small amount of water to help her swallow. She drinks it all without resistance.

Once she’s finished, I ease her back down onto the bed. She quickly falls asleep again, her breathing soft and steady. It might be my imagination, but it feels more stable now than it was before.

“Is she healed now?” I ask, looking to Flute for confirmation.

“Yes, I guarantee it,” Flute replies confidently. “All she needs now is plenty of rest. Her life force was significantly drained while the curse lingered, so she’ll remain in a weakened state for a while, but no further special care should be necessary.”

“I see…” Relief washes over me, though I know it will take time for her to recover fully. At least, for now, she’s safe.

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