Kays Translations

Chapter 230: The Dark History of Magic Potions

The conversation about magic potions became extremely lively. When everyone asked how I had conceived such ideas, I blamed everything on Grandmother. I’ll say it again: I’m sorry, Grandmother—and I’m sorry to her teacher as well. Ultimately, the blame would fall upon the person who had taught Grandmother how to make potions.

“I have heard stories of a person who once produced exceptional magic potions. Yet that individual’s methods never spread and remained a mystery. To think the person was Lady Margaret’s teacher…”

His Majesty the King shook his head in disbelief. The others listening nearby released deep sighs.

My stomach was beginning to ache. In truth, I had learned those methods through the game. Deceiving everyone was painful.

“But why did Lady Margaret not spread the method? She could have earned great renown. What a terrible waste.”

“Grandmother seemed afraid of something. She said she could not allow her house to be destroyed.”

“Her house? I see…”

His Majesty appeared to understand and nodded repeatedly. Her Majesty the Queen also seemed to grasp the implication and fell silent. Everyone else looked confused. Neither Brother Alex nor Princess Daniela appeared to know anything about it. This was evidently a closely guarded secret.

“During the reign of my grandfather—the king before last—there was an attempt to revolutionise magic potions.”

His Majesty began speaking slowly. Since I had never heard the story from anyone, it must have become a dark chapter in the kingdom’s history. Even so, he had decided to tell us.

During that reign, a movement arose to improve the dreadful potions of the time and make them easier for people to use. The initiative naturally covered both improving quality and developing entirely new potions.

Magic pharmacists throughout the Kingdom of Spencer answered the royal call and created countless potions. It must have been something like a magic-potion boom. Ingredients sold at high prices, adventurers travelled actively across the kingdom and the markets flourished.

Several excellent potions were discovered, production methods were revised and, for a time, potions apparently tasted slightly better than they did now. Problems soon emerged, however. Whether because of unsuitable ingredients or flawed methods, some potions began harming people only after a delay.

In other words, they acted like slow-acting poisons.

No one knew which potions were responsible, which ingredients were dangerous or which methods were at fault. When people realised they had been poisoned, they reacted furiously—and understandably so. They had effectively been used as test subjects.

To prevent civil unrest, the king at the time had no choice but to punish the magic pharmacists responsible.

The pharmacists capable of producing the greatest number of new potions were naturally nobles, so public anger turned towards their houses.

The king before last chose to dissolve those noble houses and replace them with new ones. The nobility naturally resisted, but relatively few nobles were magic pharmacists. After weighing the consequences, he apparently decided that sacrificing those houses was the lesser danger.

The displaced families must have received some consideration, but the disgrace attached to their names remained. Resentment undoubtedly continued to smoulder—and then the tragedy deepened.

The king before last was assassinated with poison. Because the toxin was highly unusual, the magic pharmacist who created it was quickly identified and executed.

The incident shocked magic pharmacists throughout the kingdom. An effort begun for the people’s benefit had ended in catastrophe.

Public suspicion towards magic potions intensified, and eventually no one wished to develop new ones at all.

That must have been why Grandmother said she could not allow her house to be destroyed.

“Then… could the new potions Lord Julius is creating also be dangerous?”

Ijidol asked in a trembling voice.

“Yes. That possibility may exist.”

In truth, there was no such possibility, but I had no way to prove it.

Some people in this world could appraise magic potions, but the accuracy of their appraisal varied and was generally poor. They could identify only the broad nature of a potion’s effect. That was why no one had detected the delayed toxicity.

To spread magic potions safely, we needed a highly accurate appraisal magic tool. Without one, distributing new potions throughout the kingdom—let alone the world—would be difficult. As for who could build such a device, I would probably finish fastest. I would much rather someone else make it, though. What a nuisance.

“There is no need to worry. Every potion Julius creates is excellent: effective, high-quality and pleasant to drink. They deserve to be distributed throughout the kingdom.”

His Majesty smiled at me. He evidently possessed accurate information about every potion I had developed. But how?

“After that incident, I assembled several people capable of more precise appraisal. I wish such precautions had been taken from the beginning, but no one realised how greatly appraisal ability differed from one person to another.”

His Majesty shook his head. My brothers looked surprised; apparently, they had not known either. If this information spread, talented appraisers would suddenly be in great demand. I had never considered that individual appraisal abilities might vary so much.

“Then, Your Majesty, does that mean new magic potions can now be confirmed as safe?”

“Exactly, Alex. That is why I have such high hopes for Julius. Every potion he has supplied has already been tested. Not only are they safe, their performance is extraordinary. I was surprised to learn that the children’s potions were sweetened.”

His Majesty smiled with obvious satisfaction. So he had known—and still drunk that awful-tasting Panacea? Even if refusing it would have been politically difficult, that took courage.

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