Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 6: Alchemy
So it turned out that the classmates had only heard that something had gone wrong with the Leo family, with no real confirmation. But now, thanks to Kris blurting it out in public, everyone knew—the Leo family really was in trouble.
Sigma cast a glance at Kris, arms akimbo with that arrogant look on her face, and sneered. “Kris, don’t forget who you are. As a member of the great Plantagenet family, how could you possibly associate with people from the Leo family? You’ve truly shamed both your house and the Turing Empire.”
Kris seized Sigma by the collar, fist clenched tight, and shouted, “Ratman, what did you just say? Say it again if you dare!”
“Well, well, what’s this? Kris, what are you trying to do? Let go of me! Are you really planning to get violent?”
The “Ratman,” Sigma, cried out at the top of his lungs. Kris, seeing his pathetic, punch-worthy face, had already raised her fist—when Merlin quickly held her back.
“Don’t. Harrington’s here. If you hit him now, you’ll end up in the dark room.”
Merlin had spotted Harrington just as he entered the classroom and immediately intervened. At the Arcane Academy, attacking someone on a whim was a serious offense—especially in front of a teacher.
Kris instantly released Sigma’s collar, giving him a shove instead. “I was only joking with him.”
As she said this, Kris deliberately glanced toward Harrington at the podium.
But Harrington acted as though he had seen nothing at all. He simply adjusted the teaching materials he’d brought with him, cleared his throat lightly, and said, “Everyone, back to your seats. Class is about to begin.”
Sigma’s face darkened as he glared at Kris and Merlin, resentment written all over his features. But he didn’t dare say anything more. Instead, he sat back down with his cronies, sulking.
Professor Harrington looked every bit the archetypal alchemy teacher. Age had robbed him of his hair, leaving his scalp completely bald. Yet, according to him, it was not baldness at all, but a conscious choice: he had shaved his head for the sake of the great discipline of alchemy, lest a stray strand of hair interfere with his work.
He wore a pair of round-framed glasses, his eyes gleaming with wisdom behind the lenses. His plain features were always framed by a spotless master’s robe—clear proof that this unassuming old man was, in fact, a Sixth-Tier Master of Magic.
With a gentle tap of his finger, Harrington caused the podium to instantly fill with an array of glass instruments: flasks, potion bottles, test tubes, and more. Alongside them were square parcels wrapped in coarse linen, their contents unknown.
“You’ve all learned the basics of alchemy by now,” Harrington began. “For months we’ve focused on theory. It’s time for you to experience the joy of practice.”
As he spoke, he tapped the desk again. A soft breeze drifted in from outside, circling around him like invisible hands. The ropes around the linen bundles untied themselves, opening to reveal what lay within.
At once, a dense, heavy aroma of spices filled the room. The mingled scent was so overpowering it made Merlin uncomfortable, as though he’d stepped into some dusty old provisions shop that hadn’t been cleaned in years.
The other students, however, leaned forward eagerly, fascinated by the spices laid out on the desk. Some even inhaled the scent greedily.
“Oh heavens, that smell—it’s intoxicating!”
“So many rare spices!”
“Finally, we get to try real alchemy!”
“I don’t even recognize some of them—they must be incredibly precious!”
On the continent of Aize, spices were luxury goods, treasures reserved for nobles—worth their weight in gold.
“That’s right,” Harrington confirmed. “I purchased these specially for today’s lesson. Each of you may come up and take a set portion. Then you will mix them into incense, snuff, or refreshing water, as you see fit.”
When he mentioned refreshing water, many students exchanged odd looks—some embarrassed, some smirking, the girls especially fidgeting with flushed cheeks.
Merlin twitched at the corner of his mouth. On Aize, spices weren’t for eating. They were for making incense, snuff, or offerings to the gods. Wealthy nobles also used them to embalm corpses.
As for “refreshing water”… Merlin’s inherited memories clarified: it was basically enema water—a concoction of spices for internal cleansing.
Yes. Enema water.
The nobles of Aize were downright enthusiastic about enemas. They cared deeply about beauty and physique, and knew that digestion greatly influenced both. Among noblewomen especially, enemas were as fashionable as cosmetic injections in the modern world.
Every noble lady knew: her beauty, her skin, her figure—all depended on the quality of her digestion. To many, enemas were indispensable.
On top of that, enemas carried religious significance. Some churches believed they purified not only the body but the soul itself.
And so, most of the continent’s precious spices ended up turned into enema water. To Merlin, a transmigrator, this was downright unbearable.
Honey, milk, olive oil—fine. But to add black pepper, basil, thyme, rosemary, parsley—who could possibly imagine the taste?
Thankfully, the body Merlin now inhabited had never been subjected to such a practice.
“Hell yes! After all this time, we finally get to do alchemy! Kris, Merlin, what are you going to make—incense, snuff, or refreshing water?” Fitt came bounding back, arms full of ingredients, practically glowing with excitement.
Kris thought for a moment before answering. “Incense, I suppose. As for refreshing water, well, you know Merlin and I can’t stand the stuff.”
“Suit yourselves. I’ll make refreshing water. Honestly, you two ought to try it—it’ll make you feel like you’re flying!” Fitt was clearly an enema-water enthusiast, which sent a shiver down Merlin’s spine—especially when his friend gleefully grabbed a whole handful of black pepper.
Under Harrington’s instruction, Merlin collected an assortment of spices: cinnamon, bay leaves, star anise, and a few others.
But he would never use them for incense, snuff, or refreshing water. To him, these were meant for food.
Crossing into a magical world, he had thought alchemy class would involve brewing potions or inscribing magic arrays. Who could have guessed it would all come down to mixing spices? And after months of theory lessons on this? Absolutely absurd.