085. Heyron (3)

Aindel’s sudden reaction was surprising, but only for a moment.

With just a few short words and actions, something was clearly recognized, so I calmed my mind.

Waited, and asked for help.

Doesn’t this mean that this old man is different from those of the outer world?

So, is he someone we can trust?

I don’t know yet. But for now, there was no sense of any supernatural threat, so it was worth listening to his story.

With that judgment, I asked.

“Can we at least hear what you have to say first?”

“Ah, yes. As much as you want. I will tell you everything, what I have been through, and the reason I have been waiting for you.”

The voice was desperate.

As he gestured, the homunculus toddled over with another cup of bitter tea.

The story began,

“…First, I must start from a distant past.”

He had to go back quite a long way.

* * *

Alchemists, by nature, are generally reclusive.

This tendency deepens, and most alchemists despise public gatherings.

It was a resistance to gaining intellectual assets without effort.

Aindel grew up in such a culture.

“My master was like that too. In fact, most alchemists still are. I was someone who couldn’t understand that.”

Aindel was seven years old when he first entered the world of alchemy.

However, it wasn’t until he was forty that he first encountered his master’s vision.

It was only when he was about to die that he spoke of his vision, showing how petty his master was.

“What an absurd culture, isn’t it? Even those wizards aren’t so stingy with their visions. They don’t build walls around teaching and learning like this.”

“They always lament the decline of alchemy. But no one wants to think about why no one is progressing. It’s pitiful.”

“They have nothing but that one vision, so their hearts are poor, and they don’t know how to give. Such reclusiveness has been passed down through generations, cutting off academic exchange and leading to the collapse of the discipline itself. I wanted to change that. This era, this collapsing discipline.”

That was his one passion.

It was the reason he decided to become a professor at the academy.

“I was lucky. There happened to be a vacancy for an alchemy professor. To be precise… it was always vacant. Alchemists capable of advanced research didn’t want to share their visions.”

Aindel chuckled as he recalled that moment.

“An old, withered dream. Yet, it wasn’t a shabby dream. I still vividly remember the day I first became a professor. Imagine the moment when the students gathered around, looking up at me.”

Since he was a grandmaster, Yuren might understand that feeling.

Guessing, Aindel continued.

“Isn’t it lovely? Just the thought that those children would become the future of alchemy was overwhelming. It was that day.”

Aindel’s smile deepened.

Accompanied by bitterness.

“…Shupert. That was when I met that child.”

Aindel himself didn’t know, but at this moment, Yuren’s expression had become very serious.

It was about speaking the honest truth, but this was information Yuren did not have… because it was creating the causality of him becoming an invited professor.

“So, the reason you took charge of the new students was that.”

“The children who will create a new era of scholarship must be untainted. They must be open-minded and proud to share knowledge.”

“I completely agree with that.”

“Haha, as expected of someone called the teacher of the empire.”

Peto, who knew Yuren’s behavior, stifled a laugh, and Yuren gave him a sidelong glance.

Aindel, who was blind, continued speaking without knowing this.

“I felt destiny in that meeting. Shuperto was purer than any child and more intelligent than any child.”

“…Pure?”

“His mouth is a bit rough. Yes, I also know him. There’s no neighborhood where his name isn’t known. But isn’t the most important thing when looking at a person their inner self? Shuperto was truly clear. Especially his thirst for knowledge was so pure.”

My mouth went dry.

It was because I felt a bit more excited when praising a disciple.

Aindel took a sip of tea and continued speaking.

“My vision is the vision of life. As it is the most fundamental inquiry, it requires deep philosophical thinking and ethics. Therefore, I needed to see humanity in bestowing my vision. In the various processes that tested this, Shuperto was the only one who passed with full marks. Do you know what his first question to me was?”

“…What was it?”

“Professor, why should we place different values on the same life?”

Aindel’s fingertips caressed the teacup.

He closed his eyes gently and tilted his head towards the ceiling.

“How admirable is that? Knowing that all life has value even though no one taught him. Recognizing the beauty of life. And his grades were also excellent. Conscience and ability. Shuperto lacked neither.”

The inquiry into life was a research with many possibilities for misuse.

Handled slightly wrong, it could create a poison that could annihilate a city, or a terrible deformity that could be spread.

The conscience of the researcher was the most important virtue, and knowing this, the excellent Shuperto was a truly attractive student.

“In that moment, I made a decision. I would pass on all my visions to that child. As I taught, I realized something. Taesa, do you ever feel that? The feeling of developing yourself while teaching someone.”

“…I somewhat understand.”

“I felt that emotion every moment.”

When Aindel gestured, the homunculi approached and sat on his lap.

One homunculus lay down leaning against Aindel’s feet.

Aindel’s voice was full of pride.

“Beep…!”

“These children are the fruits of that. To tell you the truth, these children are the ones Shuperto and I researched and brought to life together. Although they did not reach life, they still showed the possibility…”

Categorically, it could not be considered life.

However, these children held the potential to touch upon the alchemists’ secret desire of creating life.

How moving that day was.

Aindel still remembered Shupelt shedding tears of joy.

“By the time that child reached the third grade, they had already absorbed all my visions. From then on, we were no longer master and disciple, but colleagues in research as they entered the fourth grade.”

The happy story… ended right there. A shadow began to fall over Aindel’s face.

Yuren, guessing the reason, spoke.

“…Rebecca?”

Aindel nodded.

“Yes, that witch appeared.”

Witch, there was no other way to describe her.

Aindel rubbed his eyelids.

“At first, I just saw it as something fresh. A child who knows love and one who doesn’t have different levels of soul maturity, so even if they failed, I hoped they would give their best to their first love and helped them.”

Sometimes teaching them tricks like making roses bloom in their hands, or passing on lines from his youthful experiences.

Shupelt, who was always shy but smiling, was so lovely that he even did such things.

He regretted it.

“From some point… I felt that my and Shupelt’s research was flowing in a strange direction. That is to say…”

To be precise,

“…Homunculus. Shupelt tried to experiment with these children.”

There was a moment when the cruelty of that experiment crossed the line.

“Though they couldn’t become life, the homunculi were completed as they were. Just the fact that they held potential was enough to deserve respect. How could they be seen as mere experimental materials? Shupelt himself was a child who avoided such things. But how…”

Aindel remembered Shupelt’s words that day.

―I’m trying to make them better. If they break in the process, we have to make new ones.

Aindel’s lips pressed tightly together.

What had changed that pure child?

He had to investigate.

If a disciple who had absorbed all his visions fell into corruption, it was right for him to take responsibility.

“It was quite easy. The cause was too close.”

Rebecca.

The dreadful witch Rebecca.

“There was a sense of incongruity. While I was following that woman, I discovered an astonishing fact. Do you know? That woman lived in a cave outside the castle?”

“…Yes.”

“It was only when I realized that fact that I felt a sudden shock. Come to think of it, I had never been curious about that woman’s background, her parents, or her residence! As if, as if…”

“Not knowing is the most perfect state. You must have thought that way.”

“…That’s right! I thought that trying to find out was really an irrational act. It was only by enduring that and moving forward that I could discover the truth.”

That was during Schubert’s graduation.

It was the time when I resigned from my duties as a visiting professor and finished the paperwork to follow Schubert to the north.

“Whether it was unfortunate or fortunate…”

No, it could rather be called fortunate.

“…At that time, I happened to meet that woman, and I asked her. What is your true identity?”

“……”

“That day, I died.”

Although it couldn’t be seen with the eyes, I could feel that Yuren was now flustered.

Yes, it would be absurd for a living person to say that they died.

But it was true that I had died.

That day, Rebecca took my eyes, pierced my heart, and buried me in the ground.

Schubert even came to my grave to mourn.

―…I will continue your research, Master. For your share as well.

Schubert cried out loud, but that was the end.

―Let’s move forward. That’s what we have to do.

Rebecca made Schubert forget about me.

So,

“I think she wanted to make me remain as a dead person forever so that the reason wouldn’t be investigated. Of course, the moment Schubert tried to find out, he would naturally suspect that witch.”

That’s the reason for the luck.

Since Schubert no longer investigated me, I was able to hide in the north and settle down here without any interference.

Afterwards, I heard about Rebecca’s disappearance and death, and from the accidents that happened afterwards, I could infer that Yuren was trying to save someone related to Rebecca.

That’s why Eindel crouched down.

To save Schubert, who was lost in delusion, Yuren’s help was needed.

Because if I went alone, I couldn’t predict how Schubert, who was enchanted, would react.

“I have been desperately waiting for you.”

After saying that, Yuren remained silent for a long time.

He seemed to be deep in thought.

Finally, a question came as expected.

“…I don’t quite understand what you mean by ‘dead’.”

Aindel smiled bitterly.

Yes, how could he gain trust if he didn’t even explain this?

“Excuse me.”

Aindel slowly took off his coat.

Then he untied the tightly bound shirt.

And then,

“……!”

A gasp was heard.

Yes, it must be horrifying.

“This is my heart now. Didn’t I tell you? A homunculus is the possibility of life.”

He had turned himself into a homunculus.

To replace his lost heart, he had done something that should never be done, just to hold on to his fading life a little longer.

But, wouldn’t you do the same?

“I don’t have much time left. So, can you help me…?”

As a teacher, as a colleague in research, as a connection.

Aindel couldn’t close his eyes peacefully until he saved Superth.

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