CHAPTER 53: GROUP PROJECT 6

"Yes, proceed," I confirmed. Silva’s intelligence was apparent. He was destined to become a remarkable swordsman, but his alchemy skills methodical, precise, and insightful

made him indispensable.

"I’ll dry this using a magical technique unique to these mushrooms," I continued. "Does anyone know how to perform this method?"

"It’s the substation technique, right?" Silva’s voice was confident. "I learned it while following my father around. With Glowcap Mushrooms like this, it can be dried in five minutes."

"Uh... yes, I think so," Nad chimed in, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. She understood the process, having studied similar methods before. I simply recited the instructions she needed, knowing her academic mind would fill in the rest.

Finally, Clara Winslet stepped forward, hesitant but resolute. Her expression was a mix of curiosity and concern. "...I’ll do it," she said softly.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "I read it in one of the books I usually study. The book mentioned this technique, but it was just a theory. I never thought I’d actually get to use it."

One by one, we imparted every detail necessary for the A-Grade health potion ingredient processing, timing, and the precise measurements that could mean the difference between success and failure. This... maybe... An idea struck me, but there was no time to dwell on it. Over nineteen minutes had already passed in preparation and instruction.

"From now on, follow the recipe exactly. Begin mixing."

Clara Winslet hesitated for a brief moment. "This recipe... it just came from your head?"

I nodded, without hesitation. My confidence was absolute. I had pulled this out of my memory from the game’s core mechanics. I had shown you a hidden dungeon; you trust me, don’t you?

Clara Winslet fell silent, no further questions asked. I gave a quiet round of applause.

"Start."

Our group began the potion crafting, slightly behind the others. The eyes of the inspector alchemists shone with interest, their gazes lingering on every move we made.

"Young minds have unique ways of thinking," one commented.

The basic principles were common sense to professionals, but it was rare to see teenagers applying them with such insight.

"Certainly... if that’s the case... um, uhm..." one visitor murmured, clearly impressed.

"The boy with the glasses is exceptional," another whispered.

"Indeed," Professor Edel Ty said, her eyes on me, a proud, almost maternal look on her face. "He’s one of my best students."

The other groups’ efforts barely registered. Some had attempted reprocessing, but their actions seemed trivial in comparison.

"Our group has completed the project," an observer finally announced.

"Good. Very well done," Professor Edel Ty replied.

Thirty minutes passed, then forty. Outstanding groups demonstrated finished A-Grade Health Potions, impressive enough to score ninety out of one hundred. This year’s students were exceptional, but the alchemists barely had time to glance at them.

"Oh... let’s see..."

With only a few minutes remaining, all the other groups had already completed their potions. The bubbling cauldrons had been extinguished, the fumes cleared away, and vials of liquid lined up neatly across the tables for inspection. Relief filled the air, mingled with exhaustion. Students slumped into chairs, rubbing sore wrists and blowing on singed fingers. Some beamed with pride at their finished products, while others could only hope their potion wouldn’t explode during evaluation.

But despite the chorus of chatter and sighs, every pair of eyes in the room gradually turned toward one group.

Toward us.

The alchemists, too, who had been moving between tables and muttering in dry academic tones, had all stilled. Their gazes were fixed solely on our cauldron.

The other students noticed.

"Why are they still working?" someone whispered.

"They’re not just working they’re... close to finishing something," another muttered back.

Even the half-hearted complaints and small talk from groups who had already failed began to fade into silence. Tension, thick and electric, stretched over the classroom as our potion bubbled faintly.

Mors, standing stiff as a statue at the head of the hall, was visibly uneasy. The lines around his mouth tightened each time he glanced at our cauldron, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the podium.

This was because our group’s potion Kael Vi-rel’s group looked far more complete than anyone had expected.

’What’s that... where did you get that recipe?’ His expression said it all.

From the start, the parchment I’d unrolled had seemed unimpressive. The diagram was rough, my handwriting sloppy, the measurements slightly uneven. To anyone else, it looked like the scribbles of a novice. Even my movements when preparing the first steps cutting roots, pouring liquids had seemed too relaxed, bordering on amateur.

But as the minutes ticked by, something strange happened.

Despite the unimpressive foundation, we four Clara Winslet, Silva, Nad, and myself moved with uncanny precision. Each of us had our role, and we didn’t need to bark orders or argue over who did what. Clara Winslet’s hands never faltered as she controlled the flame, Silva’s grinding matched the rhythm of Nad’s stirring, and my measurements slipped in exactly when they were needed. It was as if we’d rehearsed this for weeks.

We hadn’t.

Even I, the so-called leader, hadn’t expected it to be this smooth.

’What are these guys? Why are they so coordinated?’

’And that recipe... where did he get it?’

The whispers grew louder. Some of the Students craned their necks. Some students frowned, others scoffed, and a few clenched their fists. Envy, suspicion, awe it all swirled in the room like the fumes rising from our cauldron.

Then, at last, the final reaction came.

The potion’s surface shimmered like a pool of starlight. With a faint bubble, bubble... boom! a controlled halo of light burst upward, the reaction perfectly contained.

Gasps quickly filled the room.

Within moments, a glass vial filled itself with a vivid purple liquid, thick and gleaming as if infused with life itself.

An A-Class Health Potion.

Finished.

The silence broke into a storm of murmurs.

"No way..."

"An A-Class? From them?"

"They were supposed to fail how...?"

"This is insane."

"Ohhh..." One of the alchemists leaned forward, eyes sparkling.

"Wait a minute, I’ll check it immediately!" another declared, hurrying forward with excitement.

"Tch, you beat me to it," a third grumbled.

The first inspector placed his hand just above the vial. A faint glow spread from his palm, threads of golden light weaving into the potion. The liquid pulsed gently in response, as if acknowledging the scrutiny.

"Hmm, hmm... fascinating." His eyebrows lifted. "Mixing it this way unique, creative. Remarkable."

"What do you think?" one of his colleagues pressed.

The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached for another vial from the inspection table a potion crafted with the official professor Edel Ty recipe, its reddish hue glowing faintly. He held the two side by side, studying the differences.

"This one was made with Professor Edel Ty’s method," he began slowly, "which we’ve always considered near perfect."

The room leaned in collectively, waiting.

"But this orange variant..." He shook his head in disbelief. "It may be less polished, and yes, there’s a slight overuse of ingredients, but the effectiveness is... undeniably greater."

A ripple of gasps spread through both the students and the alchemists.

The man finally turned to Professor Edel Ty herself, his voice steady, unwavering.

"...It surpasses yours, Professor Edel Ty’s. It works better."

A stunned silence followed.

Professor Edel Ty’s lips stretched into a smile, but it was brittle, her eyes sharp enough to cut glass.

’Senile fools,’ Mors thought bitterly, glaring. ’What nonsense is this?’

To suggest that students had surpassed Professor Edel Ty herself? It was unthinkable. An insult. A humiliation.

And yet the evidence shimmered right in front of them.

"Give it to me!" Mors barked, unable to resist any longer.

The alchemist calmly handed the vial over.

Mors lifted it, his eyes darting wildly as he analyzed the liquid. His heart sank.

’What...!’

There it was. Clear as day. The potion bore Professor Edel Ty’s unique technique the extraction method for Glowcap Mushroom nutrients, her signature hallmark. And yet, it was improved.

’Impossible. Even crafting an A-Class potion takes years of research. This... this borders on B-Class! How the hell did they’

His rage surged, blood vessels threatening to burst in his eyes.

"This..." His voice trembled. He wanted to shout accusations, to call me a fraud. He wanted to demand my recipe, strip me of credit, anything to tear me down.

But he couldn’t.

Because all around him, the other alchemists were nodding in agreement, murmuring in admiration.

"It’s not enough for an S-grade, but for students, this is... beyond expectations."

"Indeed. When I was their age, I could barely produce a stable C-Class potion."

"Kids these days... astonishing."

Mors clenched his jaw so hard it ached. His excuses swirled uselessly.

Disqualify them for deviating from the assignment.

Disqualify them for using the wrong materials.

Simply disqualify them.

But none of those would stick. Not against this undeniable result.