Chapter 522: It Might Really Exist

First, to ease the fatigue from our journey, we moved to the room that had been prepared for us. Once it was just the three of us, Fabienne, Nero, and myself, I decided to share the information I had just heard from Lionel.

As I sank into the sofa, Fabienne immediately settled beside me, and Nero busied himself with preparing tea.

“The story about a saint… it seems doubtful,” I began. “Lionel mentioned it earlier. Apparently, she’s a ‘self-proclaimed saint.’ Most likely, she hasn’t been able to prove she’s actually one.”

“W-what…? So that’s why Lionel whispered to Julius-sama just now?” Fabienne’s voice trembled with disbelief.

“Exactly.”

I could see the flicker of unease in her expression. Nero, too, looked taken aback. Well, that was expected. I felt the same way. People shouldn’t build up strange expectations. Yet… I suppose there are some who make a living by supporting this self-proclaimed saint. The thought left me with a strangely tangled mix of feelings.

“So… the purification magic was a lie too, then?”

“Maybe,” I replied, giving Fabienne a deliberately vague answer. Purification magic did exist—I wouldn’t deny it, nor fully affirm it. It pained me slightly that I couldn’t tell Fabienne the truth, but for now, patience was necessary.

“Can we truly restore the corrupted land…? I’m starting to feel uneasy.”

“Fabienne…”

She leaned against me, and for a fleeting moment, I caught myself thinking that even her sorrowful, troubled expression was beautiful. I realized then that I was hopelessly enamored. Fabienne seemed to be evolving steadily from simply “cute” to truly “beautiful.” And me? Was I behaving like a proper gentleman? I tried to reassure myself that I was.

“Well, there is one magical potion that could be useful,” I said.

“Th-that… is that potion mentioned in the book of magic potions that Julius-sama received from his grandmother?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Of course, that was a lie. No such potion actually existed. Once we returned to the Heine Frontier House, I planned to secretly add a page for it. If no one noticed, it wouldn’t really be a lie. After all, I was the only one who would ever see that book.

“Where exactly did Margaret-sama learn such magic potions?”

“She apparently apprenticed under a renowned potion master. That’s where she learned.”

I didn’t know who this potion master was, only that they seemed to have preserved ancient potion-making techniques over generations. Perhaps the original master still lived somewhere, and maybe one day, I would meet them.

Fabienne fell into a thoughtful silence for a moment but quickly lifted her gaze.

“What kind of potion is it?”

“It’s called Purification Powder. If used, it should cleanse the area where the powder is scattered.”

“Purification Powder…”

Fabienne’s mouth opened slightly at the simplicity of the name. I considered correcting her impression but decided against it. Instead, I sipped the tea Nero had prepared—it was perfectly timed, as my throat was parched. Perhaps I’d indulge in a cookie as well.

“Julius-sama, if such a potion exists, why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

Nero, having finished his initial task, joined the conversation. I motioned for him to sit on the sofa, and we began to discuss it. The answer was simple.

“I judged from the name that it could be useful, but I wasn’t certain whether Purification Powder could really restore corrupted land. I didn’t want to give anyone false hope.”

“Indeed, we couldn’t have tested it beforehand,” Nero agreed.

“Exactly. We can’t exactly create corrupted land to experiment on.”

Nero nodded thoughtfully, but in truth, that was another lie. Potions capable of corrupting land did exist—but I had no intention of hinting at them, teaching their creation, or making them myself. Silence was the wiser choice.

“So… we have no choice but to try it in the field. Is the potion difficult to make?”

“Not particularly, but the magical stones must be powdered first. That part might be tricky.”

“Powder the magical stones? How exactly do you do that?”

Given the well-known hardness of magical stones, Fabienne’s doubt was understandable. But the answer was simple: eye for an eye, stone for a stone.

“You strike one magical stone against another. With enough force, it gradually turns into powder.”

“That’s quite…the brute force,” Fabienne murmured, her brow furrowed. I doubted she could manage it herself. For large-scale production, only the strongest knights would suffice. Even a day of hammering stone against stone should be bearable for them. Just imagining it… it was a grim, black-labor kind of job. People would quit quickly.

“There’s another method—you could grind it on an Orichalcum whetstone. That wouldn’t require any strength.”

“Orichalcum… that legendary metal, right? I wonder if it exists in the Raven Kingdom.”

“Perhaps… there’s a chance, given that the Holy Sword exists here. Oh, we could even have the Holy Sword do the grinding. It should be able to cut magical stones.”

“Using it that way… the Holy Sword might be angry,” Fabienne grimaced, unprepared for that line of thinking. Surely, she hadn’t imagined using a revered weapon as a mere tool. As for me, I believed that anything usable should be used. Just displaying it wasn’t helping anyone, and practical use would surely please the sword.

“Alright. If Purification Powder works, I’ll ask Erwin-sama to lend me the Holy Sword.”

“Are you serious?”

Nero leaned forward slightly, clearly skeptical. Perhaps I would face more opposition than expected. But I wouldn’t give up. Black-labor or white-labor, the choice was obvious. With the Holy Sword, anyone could easily powder magical stones—absurdly surreal in appearance, perhaps, but effective.

“Of course. It’s faster and easier that way. I’m glad the Holy Sword is in this country.”

Both of them looked at me with exasperation, as if to say, he’s unstoppable. And they were right—I wasn’t planning to stop.