Chapter 4: Experience
The medic stares at the magic potion that has returned to his hand.
I have a bad feeling about this.
“Julius-sama, since we are here, shall we open one?”
“No, I don’t need that kind of service.”
“However, if you experience just the smell of it, you will feel more confident when it comes time to use it.”
“I’m not going to use it!”
Let’s have Lionel say a few words here.
That should bring this medic back to his senses.
I’m counting on you, Lionel.
Lionel noticed my gaze.
He nodded once.
As expected of the Knight Commander.
He can read the mood.
You have come all the way here, and you are even interested in magic potions.
It will be a good experience.”
“I won’t! Stop him, Lionel!”
“Well, well, don’t say it like that.”
This is that.
It’s total harassment.
The medic, who was given permission, opened the lid of the elementary recovery drug on the spot.
It may have been a warmhearted gesture by the medic to give me a beginner-level recovery drug.
Suspicious smoke leaked out from inside.
It was the first time I had ever seen such a sight.
…… Ugh! It smells like vomiting! I’m starting to feel sick.
The medic saw me go pale and closed the lid.
Lionel and the medic looked unconcerned.
This is the day-to-day life of the Knights…How much scent power does the advanced recovery medicine have that a knight trained in that scent would dislike it so much?
“Lionel, please answer me honestly.
Is my grandmother a bad Potions Master?”
“No, sir, not at all! She’s one of the five most talented people on this continent.”
That was one of the five best! And on this continent! No way.
Lionel, who saw me in surprise, closed his eyes and continued his words while shaking his head.
“Recovery medicines made by other magic pharmacists are even worse.
As for advanced recovery medicines, at best half of them will survive after taking them.
On the other hand, the advanced recovery potion made by the former Countess Margaret will make you suffer to the point of death, but you will not die.”
“Isn’t that just poison!?”
“It seems that orders from other countries are pouring in for advanced recovery medicine made by the former Margrave’s wife.”
“If it’s not good, won’t this turn into a diplomatic issue? Because they’re sending poison!?”
“I have heard that there is no end to the number of people who take a chance and take it, even if it is a high-level recovery medicine that they don’t know who made it.
Thank goodness the former Countess of the Frontier made it.”
“Hey, someone needs to stop it!”
I didn’t expect things to be so bad.
It would have been nice if there had been some other means to cure people’s injuries and illnesses, but it seemed that medical care was not so well developed thanks to the half-developed magical medicine.
And to make matters worse, even though there is offensive magic, recovery magic doesn’t exist.
This is the reality of this world.
It’s worse than expected.
No wonder that god is so worried.
Faced with reality, I shut myself in my room.
What should I do? I must free as many people as possible from the torments of hell as soon as possible.
But I am just a three-year-old boy.
There is little I can do.
Would I advise Grandma? And would she listen to it? If I said, “the gods asked me to do this,” she might just treat me like a strange child.
And if I keep saying things like that, she will probably send me to church sooner or later.
I have to somehow change the way magic potions are made.
But why aren’t there more decent ways of making magic potions on the market?
The history of magic potions must have a certain amount of history.
So why is it that such low quality magic potions are being sold with such a nonchalant look on their faces?
Let’s pretend to be an innocent child and ask the old lady.
“Grandmother, where did you learn how to make potions?”
“Oh, it seems you’re really curious about magic potions.
I learned the basics in school, and then from my master.”
“From the master? Are there other people who were taught together?”
I was excellent, so they made a special effort to teach me.”
Apparently, advanced magic potions are handed down from one generation to the next.
Perhaps that is how they increase their scarcity value.
And it seems that half-hearted imitations of these medicines, which look like poison, are being sold in the market.
“Aren’t you going to make new magic potions?”
“Only high-ranking potions masters are allowed to create new potions.”
“Then Grandmother can make a new magic potion!”
“That’s right… but I’m not going to make something like that.”
I tilt my head slightly and ask.
I know very well that everyone in the mansion is vulnerable to this gesture.
Grandmother’s face collapsed.
She picks me up and puts me on her lap.
“Because I don’t want to destroy the house…”
I think I have some idea of what is going on.
Perhaps there was a time in the past when there was competition to develop new magic potions.
At that time, a major incident occurred that shook the country.
Since then, only selected people are allowed to develop magic potions.
Then it makes sense that existing magic potions won’t be improved.
Everyone is afraid and no one would touch it.
Even if the potion is ineffective and grotesque.
I have come to the conclusion that it is difficult to guide the old lady to improve the magic potion when I see what is going on.
Will I just have to keep my fingers crossed and wait until I become an adult? I’m already a three-year-old, so I really don’t have my fingers crossed.
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