The Power of the Saint is All Around (LN) - Volume 7 - Chapter 1.1

Behind the Scenes

THE IMPERIAL VILLA where Ten’yuu spent his time was located a short distance from the imperial palace of Zaidera. He had once had his own chambers within the imperial palace, but due to certain circumstances, he had moved out of them. He still retained an office in the palace for work, but he had also had one built for himself here.

Ten’yuu had done all of this in order to remain by his mother’s side. She had succumbed to an unknown illness, and it had been unknown how long she would remain in this world.

The soft rays of the afternoon sun streamed into his office in the imperial villa. He could hear the faint sound of laughter carried on the breeze. The sound of that voice made him stop writing.

It was his mother’s. She was likely having an animated conversation with her maid. The fact that he could hear it all the way in his office meant that they were having tea in the courtyard, or something like that.

Imagining his mother’s happiness brought a smile to Ten’yuu’s lips. 

One of the attendants doing paperwork with Ten’yuu smiled when he saw the prince’s expression. “It sounds like she’s returned to her old self.”

“It does,” said Ten’yuu. “She can’t move her body like she used to, likely as a result of being bedridden for so long, but it seems she’s regained enough of her strength to go out to the courtyard again.”

They spoke of Ten’yuu’s mother. The attendant had served Ten’yuu ever since he was a young child, so he was familiar with how long the prince’s mother had been debilitated by her condition. 

“It’s quite fortunate that the medicine worked,” said the attendant.

“It is.” Ten’yuu nodded as he recalled what had led him to find the cure.

***

The commoners of Zaidera typically practiced monogamy, but the emperor and other noblemen took multiple wives. The higher a man’s rank in society, the more wives he could claim; supposedly the emperor had thousands.

Naturally, there were many opinions about the exact number of wives the emperor had. Some assumed that every single woman who lived in the inner court—the part of the imperial palace where the emperor’s wives resided—numbered among them.

While it was said that the current emperor had fewer wives than his predecessors, there were nevertheless several hundreds of women in that court.

The more wives one had, the more children one could produce. The current emperor had over forty altogether, and Ten’yuu was the eighteenth prince among them.

Only men could inherit the throne, but Ten’yuu was low in line of succession, since he had seventeen older brothers. Additionally, his mother had been the daughter of a low-ranked noble whose family had no real power. She was currently considered the emperor’s seventh wife, but she had originally held far less prestige. She had only risen after giving birth to Ten’yuu.

Therefore, Ten’yuu would have stood little chance of actually succeeding the throne even if he had been the first-born prince. In fact, he might not even have survived childhood if he’d been born first. When powerless wives of the inner court became pregnant with boys, it was common for both mother and child to mysteriously pass away.

Having been born and raised in this kind of environment, Ten’yuu had been brought up to be less than self-assertive. He had a brilliant mind, enough so that he could be considered among the most intelligent of the princes, but in public, he only demonstrated an interest in arithmetic and the natural sciences. He showed no interest whatsoever in politics. This was Ten’yuu’s secret to success.

If one stood out too much, one endangered their own life. His mother had relentlessly warned him of this, but he had soon learned the lesson firsthand after observing how everyone in the inner court behaved.

It appeared to have been the right course of action, in the end. While they had been under dangerous scrutiny for a time, as Ten’yuu grew up, people had stopped paying attention to him or his mother.

Then, after Ten’yuu’s mother fell ill, he had started to devote himself to the study of medicinal herbs and medical treatments.

In this time, his mother’s rank had not improved. As a result, even though she was sick, she wasn’t afforded the same degree of care that the emperor and his empress would have received; she was provided treatments that merely slowed the progression of the disease.

The absence of a cure wasn’t only due to her low rank. Her strength gradually deteriorated until she reached the point that she could no longer move her hands and feet. There was no precedent for this condition. Therefore, the foremost reason for her ongoing illness was simply that no one knew how to treat it.

After overcoming hardships in the inner court together, Ten’yuu and his mother had developed a strong bond. Even though the physician declared that there was no effective method of treating her, Ten’yuu had refused to give up. He began searching for one on his own.

Looking for a means by which to alleviate symptoms no one had ever heard of was extremely difficult. Ten’yuu read every single book in the imperial palace of Zaidera, but he found nothing, not even a hint of an answer. Nevertheless, his dear mother’s life was on the line, so Ten’yuu continued his search.

Before long, he determined that he would be unable to accomplish his goal on his own. He thus recruited more people who would be loyal to his cause, though he took care not to garner the attention of those in the inner court.

Around this time, Ten’yuu and his mother were given permission to move to the imperial villa. While in so doing they isolated themselves, it was more convenient for Ten’yuu, as it enabled him to act on a grander scale than he had been able to while operating under the eyes of political rivals. Despite that, he remained unable to find any information about diseases linked to his mother’s symptoms.

At last, when his mother became so bedridden and he had all but given up, one of Ten’yuu’s people sent him a message: a report stating that there was an incredible alchemist in the Kingdom of Salutania, a country with which Zaidera had recently struck up trade.

“Is something the matter?” Ten’yuu’s attendant had asked as Ten’yuu stared at the report.

“Ah, no. It’s just that I find this report difficult to believe.”

Having come back to his senses, Ten’yuu relayed the contents of the missive. The attendant was just as surprised.

“Someone in Morgenhaven is capable of brewing high-grade potions?”

“So it seems.”

Neither Ten’yuu nor his attendant could believe the sudden report. Taking into account what they considered common knowledge in Zaidera, it was simply ridiculous. However, according to the report, this follower of Ten’yuu—a ship captain—had received a potion from a merchant woman that had completely healed grievous bone fractures in two limbs. The report also detailed how the injured man had been given many potions before this one, but only the high-grade brew had been so effective as to heal both his legs—and simultaneously, at that.

The attendant took the report and frowned as he read it over. “If this report is accurate, it does indeed sound like the person who made the potion must live in that city.” 

The captain had written that, based on the fact that a commoner in Morgenhaven had been carrying a high-grade HP potion on her person, the maker was likely also in Morgenhaven. Except that had turned out to be unlikely as well.

How could a commoner actually afford such a potion? This was what bothered both Ten’yuu and his attendant, and they were skeptical that the maker of said potion could be found in some port town.

A person who could afford such a potion had to be either a very wealthy merchant or someone capable of employing a uniquely proficient alchemist. But the captain claimed he had been unable to locate any such merchants in Morgenhaven.

As Ten’yuu looked at the report, a new idea suddenly entered his head. Then was that commoner truly a commoner? Perhaps the woman who gave him the potion wasn’t actually a merchant but a noble dressed as one?

Zaidera and the Kingdom of Salutania had only just begun trading with one another. However, Ten’yuu had learned a few things about the other nation already—one being that it was far more likely for a noble to walk around town in a commoner’s guise than for alchemists skilled enough to make high-grade potions to be found in any city but the capital.

If this woman was actually a noble, then either she received the potion from a wealthy company or…the palace?

All Zaideran alchemists capable of making high-grade potions worked for the emperor. Therefore, only the imperial family and high-ranking nobles could acquire them. Ten’yuu didn’t know if it was exactly the same in the Kingdom of Salutania, but surely the situation was similar. Ten’yuu felt he could assume that much based on what little he had learned about the Kingdom of Salutania as well as his own lived wisdom as a Zaideran.

When he took his mother’s condition into consideration, the best thing to do would be to invite the alchemist to Zaidera. If the alchemist did in fact live in Morgenhaven, then it might even be possible to invite them directly to the Zaideran imperial palace with the promise of a great reward.

However, if they were an alchemist in the employ of the king of Salutania or a noble, things would be more difficult. Even if that sort of person could be promised high pay, the idea of coming to live and work in a foreign country where one didn’t speak the language held little appeal for most people.

If it was someone who was enthusiastic about herbology, though, they might be lured by the prospect of plants found only in the empire…

But Ten’yuu had options other than inviting this alchemist to come. For example, he could also try to gather information.

In every nation of this world, royal palaces were the beacon around which people of outstanding skill gathered. The alchemists attached to Salutania’s palace would surely know all about the herbs found there, as well as different kinds of illnesses. Perhaps there was some plant native to their lands that was as yet unknown in Zaidera.

However, it would be one thing for Ten’yuu to ask his followers to contact alchemists who worked for merchants and other business ventures, but it would be difficult for any of them to reach alchemists in a royal palace.

Then what were his options?

After much consideration, Ten’yuu decided that he would study abroad in the Kingdom of Salutania.

Once Ten’yuu came to that decision, he was quick to act. After some behind-the-scenes maneuvering, he submitted his request to study in Salutania at astounding speed.

The people of the inner court were always on their guard against whatever might prove a hindrance to their own ulterior motives. Although Ten’yuu made his arrangements efficiently, it wouldn’t have been unusual if he drew their attention.

Yet they made no move against him or his mother—because the emperor supported Ten’yuu in this endeavor. It seemed that he was hoping Ten’yuu would bring back some manner of new technology from Salutania.

Thus, with the backing of the emperor, preparations were swiftly made for Ten’yuu to study abroad. As a result, a mere week after the letter of acceptance from Salutania arrived, Ten’yuu left Zaidera.

After a long voyage at sea, Ten’yuu arrived in the Kingdom of Salutania. The ship reached land at a port city called Morgenhaven. From what he could make out of the city from the ship’s deck, it was completely unlike anything he had ever known. He truly felt like he had come to a foreign country.

“We have finally arrived.”

“Indeed.”

Ten’yuu wasn’t the only one who had come to Salutania. His followers had come along with him. The one speaking to him at that moment was one of them, by the name of Ceyran. He was the captain of the ship on which Ten’yuu had traveled, as well as the one who had sent the initial report about the alchemist.

“Shall we go along as planned as soon as we disembark?” asked Ceyran.

“Yes. I want you and your men to scour the cities for the alchemist. Be sure to report back regularly, even if you don’t manage to locate them.”

“Understood.”

The members of Ten’yuu’s entourage who had come to Salutania split into two groups. Ten’yuu led one in search of information on the alchemist in the palace while Ceyran and the rest searched the city. Even though Ceyran had been unable to locate the alchemist before, there was as yet a chance that they weren’t at the palace.

Ten’yuu wasn’t only in Salutania in the role of exchange student but also a diplomatic special envoy. Since trade had begun to expand between Zaidera and the kingdom, he was tasked with finding ways to deepen the relationship between the countries.

As he was visiting as a special envoy, there was to be a welcoming ceremony for Ten’yuu and his entourage at the kingdom’s royal palace. There would be two parts to this ceremony: first, his audience with the king, and second, a party in the evening.

Naturally, as the guest of honor, Ten’yuu would attend both.

That’s the “Saint”?

During the audience, the person standing closest to the platform on which the king stood was a woman wearing a white veil. Ten’yuu glanced at her for just a moment and guessed, based on her position and dress, that she was the Saint.

Ten’yuu had learned about the Saint while preparing for his departure. The information he had been provided on Salutania was more or less common knowledge for everyone. Therefore, he was only aware that her job was to cleanse miasma.

So, she’s Salutania’s Hero. Ten’yuu recalled what he had learned about the Saint as he walked down the carpet leading to the king.

The Saint used a special kind of magic that no one else could wield to slay monsters.

In Zaidera, they called a person who possessed the power to defeat monsters at exceptional speed a “Hero.” But “Hero” wasn’t a word to denote someone who could use a special sort of magic, like the Saint could. It simply meant someone who demonstrated great skill in defeating monsters—for example, those who wielded ordinary weapons with exceptional finesse while doing so.

There was, as such, a distinct difference between the capabilities of Salutania’s Saint and a Zaideran Hero. This was in part because Hero was a title of honor in Zaidera, bestowed by the emperor’s own hand. Because of that, the person who was currently called the Hero in Zaidera was merely someone who excelled at dispatching monsters; unlike Salutania’s Saint Sei, they possessed no special powers.

This public knowledge was why Ten’yuu had no reason to believe that Sei might have unique abilities; he immediately lost interest in learning anything more about her. If he had known that the Saint possessed extraordinary skill in Holy Magic, he likely wouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss her.

After the ceremony, Ten’yuu set straight to work. He proceeded directly to the Royal Academy and each of the research institutes on palace grounds, gathering all sorts of information about Salutania.

He wished he could have focused solely on the institutes related to medicine, but fearing that the Salutanians would take advantage of an obvious need, he decided it would be better to conceal his true objective. This was why Ten’yuu chose to investigate topics unrelated to medicine as well.

As he visited the various research institutes, the day finally came for him to arrive at his main goal: the Research Institute of Medicinal Flora. He visited it with the faintest bit of hope in his heart, but the outcome nevertheless disappointed.

It wasn’t that he didn’t learn anything at all—he acquired all manner of information, such as the current state of potion development in the country as well as data on medicinal plants native to Salutania. Unfortunately, none of it could be connected to his mother’s illness.

While Ten’yuu felt a bit discouraged, he didn’t give up. There was only so much one could learn in a single day of observation. Perhaps if he found time to visit again, he could converse with the institute’s researchers further and potentially learn something of value.

After his observation, Ten’yuu made his way to the exit of the institute, pondering his next move. Was he just being stubborn? What was he doing here?

With his personal attendant and knight escort in tow, Ten’yuu was walking down the halls of the Research Institute of Medicinal Flora when he passed a window and overheard some of the researchers talking through an opened crack.

It was as if he had received a divine revelation.

“Oh! This is the day Sei’s not supposed to be here, right?”

“That’s right. Weren’t you listening to Johan this morning?”

“I completely forgot. Darn. Here I was hoping I could get some potions for my experiments today.”

As he was being accompanied by Salutanian knights, Ten’yuu only very subtly glanced in the direction of the speakers. He spied two researchers headed toward the entrance of the institute. They must have just been coming back from somewhere.

Many people at this institute could make potions. That said, not all of them could make every kind of potion known to the world—after all, potions had different potencies, and you had to increase your Pharmaceuticals skill level in order to make those of higher grades. If the person speaking outside the window could only make low-grade potions and they needed mid-grade ones for their experiment, then it only made sense that they would ask someone else to brew it for them.

But what caught Ten’yuu’s interest was the name the researcher had mentioned. He had just heard that same name just a little earlier. While he was discussing potion-making with a researcher, another one had walked into the room while calling for someone named “Sei.” After realizing that “Sei” wasn’t there, they had left.

That had been the entirety of the event, but now something was bothering Ten’yuu, and he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Perhaps it was because the researcher had, for a moment, stared at Ten’yuu’s face in astonishment.

That night, right as he was about to go to bed, Ten’yuu spoke with his personal attendant in a hushed voice. “So, you know that institute I went to today?”

“Yes. Did something happen there?”

“Indeed. I’d like to go there again, if possible. Unaccompanied.”

Thus Ten’yuu asked to once again visit the Research Institute of Medicinal Flora. As it was right before bed, the attendant and Ten’yuu were the only ones in the room. However, he was afraid of the possibility that the guards posted by the door could overhear him, so he didn’t voice his true reason for wanting to visit.

Nevertheless, the attendant had served the prince for a long time now and understood his intention without him having to say it. The attendant frowned at the thought of Ten’yuu acting on his own but agreed so long as he was allowed to go with him.

As Sei hadn’t been at the institute, they had no idea what this person looked like or what personality they might have. Based on the fact that other researchers wanted to ask Sei to make potions for them, though, Ten’yuu surmised that their Pharmaceuticals skill level must be high. Perhaps someone like that might know of rare herbs or a potion that could alleviate his mother’s symptoms. At the same time, the prince believed that this same level of proficiency would be a barrier.

Outside the palace, as well as within it, the identities of people with a high level of skill in a given area were kept secret in order to prevent others from recruiting them. Ten’yuu couldn’t immediately determine whether this person named Sei was being hidden from him on purpose or whether they simply hadn’t been there during his observation. The former was certainly a possibility.

Therefore, he aimed to visit the Research Institute of Medicinal Flora on his own without the knowledge of his hosts.

When staying in the palace of a foreign country, going anywhere without the permission of those who ran the palace wasn’t something one could ordinarily do. Ten’yuu would have only one chance to pull this off, so it was no exaggeration to say that he had practically no chance of meeting Sei. Nevertheless, he tried.

And it was there, in the herb gardens of the Research Institute of Medicinal Flora, that Ten’yuu ran into a researcher who looked like someone from his own country: a woman with black hair and black eyes who called herself Sei.

***

Ten’yuu and his attendant’s actions were considered problematic, just as he had predicted. Despite that, because there had been some issues on the Salutanian side, they got off with an admonishment. Perhaps that was because Ten’yuu immediately apologized for his sudden urge to take a walk. Naturally, they made it difficult for him to do so again by both increasing the number of guards assigned to always accompany him and making sure he was never alone.

Even so, Ten’yuu had managed to meet the person he was looking for, so he considered this an acceptable trade-off.

After meeting the researcher who called herself Sei, Ten’yuu increased the frequency of his visits to the Research Institute of Medicinal Flora. This gave him more chances to speak with the people who worked there, and he even grew to be on friendly terms with some of them.

However, after running into Sei in the herb gardens, he didn’t see her again on his visits. When he considered what the other researchers had said, perhaps it was the case that Sei did some jobs for the institute but usually worked elsewhere.

After learning that she looked like a Zaideran, though, Ten’yuu couldn’t help becoming more curious about her—perhaps especially so since he dared to wonder whether she might possess some of the knowledge he sought.

So, every time he saw the researchers he had befriended, he asked if Sei was in. Their boss surely realized that Ten’yuu was interested in her, because not too long after that, she started appearing regularly at the research institute. As such, after their second meeting, whenever Ten’yuu visited the institute, she was usually there.

Sei was typically occupied in the same sort of potion-making work every time Ten’yuu came. Her Pharmaceuticals skill had to be high, considering that the rest of the institute’s staff asked her to make potions for them as well.

Or so Ten’yuu thought, but unfortunately, she revealed that she couldn’t make high-grade potions. Ten’yuu was discouraged to hear this, but then he had a fortunate turn.

As he was indirectly trying to plumb the depths of Sei’s knowledge base, Sei started researching high-grade status cure potions. She claimed that he had inspired her interest in them. This was fortunate for Ten’yuu, as it was more or less what he himself was looking for: the kinds of potions that could cure all manner of illness.

The problem lay in the fact that status cure potion recipes differed based on the kind of symptoms one intended to cure. Zaidera had recipes for all manner of specific status cure potions, but none of these had done anything for his mother’s condition.

But perhaps there was something different to be found in Salutania? One day, Sei borrowed a book containing recipes for high-grade status cure potions from the palace library, and Ten’yuu was a bit hopeful as he scanned it alongside her.

He pretended to quickly glance through it as he searched for a page describing the kind of potion he was searching for. Unfortunately, the book only contained the same recipes that he had already tried; there was nothing new to be found.

Just when Ten’yuu had thought he might be close, he suddenly found himself at a loss again. It left him incredibly frustrated.

“Is this a record of every single one of the recipes for high-grade status cure potions made in this kingdom?” The question just slipped out of his mouth. By the time he had realized what he had asked, it was already too late.

Ten’yuu had been so careful not to give away the real reason for his journey to the kingdom. He had made sure never to ask any of the institute researchers any direct questions. But he realized in that moment that he had begun to let his guard slip ever since he began to visit this particular institute.

Was it because of his wavering emotions? Or maybe he had just taken to relaxing around Sei because, after being away from home for so long, she looked like someone he could have met back in Zaidera. Or perhaps it was a combination of both factors.

Just as he was fretting over his mistake, Sei asked a question that approached the heart of his goal: “Is there a particular kind you’re looking for?”

This was his chance.

However, Ten’yuu couldn’t answer her. He thought it over for a moment, but after remembering the mistake he had just made, he decided against confession.

Although Sei looked disappointed to hear him deny it, she changed the topic. She made a joke with an intentionally cheerful voice, perhaps because she wanted to lighten the darkened mood. She sighed about how nice it would be if there were a kind of potion that could cure any kind of ailment: a panacea.

The very concept was preposterous, but Ten’yuu liked the sound of it. If only…

In the end, Ten’yuu merely smiled and said, “It really would be nice if such a potion existed.”

Then, on a day after Ten’yuu finally confided in Sei, having reached the end of his rope as he searched for a cure for his mother’s condition, he heard that word again. Panacea.

***

On that day, Ten’yuu was occupying himself in the chambers the kingdom had provided him when someone arrived who introduced themselves as a messenger from the king. He said that the king was summoning Ten’yuu for a private meeting.

It was too late in the day for a typical summons, and Ten’yuu had never seen this messenger before. It went without saying that he found it incredibly suspicious. Normally, he would have refused because of the hour, but some kind of hunch told him to accept.

The one who summoned him being who he was, Ten’yuu took only one of his attendants and followed the messenger.

Not only did Ten’yuu not know this messenger, but he was also taken on a route through the palace that he had never seen before. The layout of the Zaideran palace was complicated, and the same could be said for the Salutanian one. Ten’yuu had a good memory, and while he felt he would be able to make it back to this location from his own chambers, he felt he would have difficulty trying to go anywhere else.

Nevertheless, why had he been summoned? His thoughts raced as they walked, tinged with anxiety.

They took much longer to reach the king’s office than it would have taken to walk straight from Ten’yuu’s chambers, but eventually they arrived at their destination.

Even the room was one Ten’yuu had never entered before. There were knights posted on both sides of the door. They watched Ten’yuu and his attendant closely as they approached. However, even that scrutiny lasted for but a brief moment.

After identifying the new arrivals by their appearances, the knights announced to the occupants of the room that their guests had arrived.

Their group passed through the opened doors. The king was waiting for them from his place on a couch that could seat three people. Behind him stood the prime minister. The only other people in the room were Ten’yuu, his attendant, and a chamberlain.

The chamberlain poured tea for the king and Ten’yuu before immediately withdrawing from the room. Whatever the king had summoned the prince for, it appeared that he did not want anyone else to hear.

But with just the four of them in the room, Ten’yuu was on guard.

“Thank you for agreeing to honor my summons at this late hour,” said the king.

“But of course.”

“How has life at the academy been?”

“Very good. I greatly appreciate the kindness everyone has shown me.”

The king started with idle pleasantries just as they would have done in Zaidera. Ten’yuu answered his questions accordingly despite his avid desire to find out why he had been called.

Both the king and the prime minister wore calm expressions, so Ten’yuu couldn’t discern their intentions. No matter how he wanted the answers to his questions, he could not allow himself impatience. Instead, Ten’yuu focused, smiling faintly to conceal his inner feelings.

Before long, the topic of conversation moved from life at the academy to the research institutions that Ten’yuu had visited for his observations. The king expressed his gratitude to Ten’yuu for inspiring the people whom he had spoken with and helping them to advance their research. Ten’yuu thanked him in turn, saying he had learned a great deal as well. Yet a cold sweat ran down his back.

Everything Ten’yuu and his attendants had done at the places he went to observe had been reported to the king. Of course, Ten’yuu knew that he had been watched, given all of those Salutanian knights who acted as his guards. Anticipating their intentions, Ten’yuu had been careful in his conduct, but when he reflected on his recent behavior, all he could do was sigh. He highly doubted that he had managed to conceal his true reason for coming to the Kingdom of Salutania.

He was right. The king went on to mention how, out of all the institutes, the one Ten’yuu had been most frequently visiting of late was the Research Institute of Medicinal Flora. When the king then asked if the prince was interested in herbology, Ten’yuu nodded and gave a somewhat evasive answer.

What was the king getting at? Ten’yuu anxiously examined the king’s demeanor—but then the conversation took an unexpected turn.

“Did you know that, a long time ago, our country was home to someone known as the founder of modern alchemy?”

“No, unfortunately, I did not.”

“Well, it was said that she was an incredibly gifted alchemist and that she possessed skills that far exceed those of any alchemists living today.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. She could even devise medicines that cannot be replicated in the current era.”

The prime minister, who had been waiting behind the king for his cue, began to move. He picked up a tray that had been placed on top of a cabinet by the wall and brought it over to the table between the king and Ten’yuu.

Something that appeared to be a square box lay on the tray. However, it was covered in a scarlet cloth with a luminous sheen, so Ten’yuu couldn’t make out what was beneath it.

“What is this?” he asked.

“A potion said to have been made by that alchemist. It has been in the keeping of the royal family.”

At the mention of a potion, Ten’yuu’s eyebrow twitched. He mentally scolded himself for the slip, but though the king noticed, he didn’t demand that Ten’yuu speak.

The prime minister didn’t comment either. Instead, he reached for the cloth covering the tray. When he removed it, he revealed a box containing three potions.

“These are a type of potion called a panacea,” said the king.

“Panacea?” Ten’yuu asked. “Just what kind of effects does it have?” He could guess from the name, but he suppressed his eagerness. 

The king gave him the answer he expected. “It is said that one of these can cure any abnormal status effect.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“Just as I said. These potions can apparently cure any poison, any paralysis, any disease—anything, no matter the symptoms.”

Upon hearing the king’s explanation, Ten’yuu instantly understood why he had been summoned here under cover of night, away from prying eyes. It made all the sense in the world that a potion made with a long-lost technique would have been hidden by the royal family. Furthermore, this potion was what Ten’yuu had been searching for all this time.

Ten’yuu stared at the bottles of panacea in disbelief. His mind began to whirl, unsure of what kind of response was most correct in this situation.

From the fact that the king had brought these out for him to see, he gathered that the kingdom knew the reason for his journey to Salutania. He wasn’t sure how they had figured it out, but he filed that away to mull over later.

Right now, Ten’yuu had to discern why the king was showing him the panaceas. It was wishful thinking, but he hoped beyond all hope that they would give one to him. However, even if they did, the Kingdom of Salutania would no doubt demand a terribly high price in exchange. Even if they didn’t demand compensation now, it would be a heavy debt to repay in the future.

If Ten’yuu’s choices had concerned only himself, he would have accepted such a debt without blinking. But as a representative of Zaidera, it was a different story.

As Ten’yuu was lost in thought, the king spoke: “You may have these.”

Upon hearing these enticing words, Ten’yuu slowly raised his gaze. “I…”

“These are what you were looking for, correct?”

Ten’yuu’s heart was torn between disbelief and desire for the panaceas. He carefully controlled his face as he replied, “I cannot accept these.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have nothing of equal value to offer in exchange.” Ten’yuu wore a stiff look as he refused. 

The king gave him a crooked smile, as if he had been planning something. “I myself rule a whole country. I will not say that I do not require any kind of compensation. That said, I won’t say that I require instant repayment.”

“Your Majesty…”

“I shall consider this an investment, one that I will have repaid sometime in the future.”

Ten’yuu was flummoxed as to how to respond until the prime minister began an explanation, as if Ten’yuu had been pressing him for an answer.

They had a reason for not demanding immediate payment. Unlike other organic matter, potions did not decay. It was said that so long as they were stored properly, their effects would last for about one hundred years. However, it had already been over a century since these potions had been brewed. Naturally, they had been appropriately stored, since they had been in the custody of the royal family, but it was possible that they wouldn’t have the same effects as they had upon their creation. Therefore, there was at best a fifty percent chance that they would cure Ten’yuu’s mother of her ailment. That was why they didn’t mind deferring compensation until the potions’ potency had been confirmed.

Just as Ten’yuu had predicted, the king and prime minister already knew why he wanted the panacea. What he didn’t know was that Johan, the head of the Research Institute of Medicinal Flora, had informed them of it, and that Sei had been the one who had made the panaceas. The potions before Ten’yuu had only just been brewed. Their ability to cure any status abnormality or illness had already been verified as well. Typically, anything Sei created using her Saintly powers would have been kept a state secret. The only reason the king was giving them to Ten’yuu was because Sei had specifically wanted them to go to the prince.

The king couldn’t reveal any of this; he didn’t want Ten’yuu to know of the Saint’s powers. That was why he claimed the Great Alchemist had been the one to create the panaceas and furthermore lied about how long ago they had been brewed.

As a result, though the king would be obliged to hand them over without demanding compensation, he and his prime minister decided to go through with it anyway.

They had watched how Ten’yuu conducted himself since coming to stay in their country and had concluded that he was an honest sort. He hadn’t come in pursuit of his own self-interests. Therefore they believed that Ten’yuu would repay them accordingly in due time. This would prove beneficial for the nation as well.

And if it turned out to be a bad deal, well, they could just brush it under the rug.

At least, that was their conclusion.

After hearing the prime minister’s explanation, Ten’yuu thought it over for a moment before coming to his own conclusion. “Very well. I shall humbly accept.”

Still sitting, he bowed deeply to show his gratitude. The king nodded with a regal air.

Ten’yuu acted swiftly after this audience with the king. Publicly, he claimed that he had received a letter that his mother’s condition had taken a turn for the worse and prepared to return to Zaidera. He left the Kingdom of Salutania in a hurry and went straight to his mother’s side as soon as he arrived in Zaidera.

Fortunately, his mother’s condition had remained stable and unchanged while he was away. She was surprised to see him return so suddenly, and mere moments after she greeted him, he gave her the panacea.

Ten’yuu was in such a rush because he didn’t want anyone who learned of the panacea to steal it. He had brought his closest attendant with him to the meeting with the King of Salutania, and he didn’t think that attendant would tell anyone else about it. However, there were surely many people who suspected something interesting had happened after Ten’yuu ended his term of study abroad and returned to Zaidera with such speed. The emperor was doubtless among them.

When the emperor asked why his son had ended his time abroad so early, the powerless Ten’yuu would have had no choice but to answer honestly. Then he’d likely need to hand over all the remaining panaceas to the emperor. If that were to happen, he knew that the potions would not be returned to him. Ten’yuu could well imagine countless people who would come up with any excuse to not return them to him.

So, he wanted to give a panacea to his mother before that happened, even if it only had a fifty-fifty chance of working. If asked, he could just tell the emperor that he had wanted to verify the potions’ effects before presenting them to him.

Moreover, the king had given him three potions. One would be more than enough to pass on to the emperor.

Ten’yuu had in fact already decided to admit that he had hurried back so abruptly because he had acquired the panaceas. He had no intentions of keeping them all to himself.

Ten’yuu’s mother stared at the medicine that her son had offered her; he was so unusually agitated.

The prince had given his mother countless medicines to try over the years. She knew how hard he had worked to acquire them and that they weren’t cheap. How hard had her son worked to get his hands on this one? How heartbroken would he be if this too wound up useless?

Ten’yuu tried not to let it show, but his mother knew that he often brooded in private. He had clearly felt such great disappointment every time a potion hadn’t worked, after all of the troubles he had gone through to get them.

With those thoughts in mind, she was reluctant to agree to take this one right away. At her hesitation, Ten’yuu begged her to drink it and told her the story of how he had gotten his hands on it. 

Of course, not all of it was good news. He relayed the prime minister’s explanation—that the panaceas were old and that there was only a fifty percent chance that they would still work as intended. He made no effort to conceal this fact precisely so that his mother wouldn’t worry if nothing happened.

After Ten’yuu finished speaking, his mother still thought it over for a moment before agreeing to drink it. It was beyond her strength to sit up on her own or even speak articulately at this point, so she conveyed this with a slight nod.

A court attendant, similar to a lady’s maid in Salutania, helped support Ten’yuu’s mother so she could sit up. Then Ten’yuu brought the bottle to her lips and tipped it slowly to let her swallow.

At a glance, there were no dramatic changes. But his mother felt something within her.

Once she was done drinking the potion, she opened her eyes wide and began to weep.

The prince felt himself panic, but then, in a clear voice, his mother said his name. “Ten’yuu.”

That told him everything he needed to know. The panacea had worked as promised.

Mother and son embraced in joyous celebration. Their long years of hardship were over. As Ten’yuu hugged her, happy tears fell down his cheeks as well.

After that, things proceeded just as Ten’yuu had anticipated they would. He and the doctor who had been treating his mother observed the progress of her recovery. Upon confirming that her illness had been completely cured, Ten’yuu presented the remaining panaceas to the emperor.

The fact that Ten’yuu’s bedridden mother had recovered to the point that she could now sit in a chair served as verification of the panacea’s effects. Her present condition was utterly unlike it had been before, when she had gradually lost her ability to engage in even the most ordinary of daily activities.

Ten’yuu explained that he had used the panacea on his mother before presenting it to the emperor, just as he had originally planned. However, he made it seem as if the events leading up to his acquisition of the panaceas in the capital of the Kingdom of Salutania had been mere coincidence.

Specifically, he made it sound like he had come by them just as he had all the medicines he tried before. Ten’yuu went to these efforts because he feared that if it became public knowledge that the Salutanian king himself had given him such a precious treasure, it would only cause trouble for the king.

Now that Ten’yuu’s mother’s illness had been cured, he was in the king of Salutania’s debt. Ten’yuu now considered the king more important in his personal cosmology than anyone in the Zaideran palace, even the emperor, and he wanted to avoid doing anything that would cause trouble for someone to whom he was so deeply beholden.

Typically, it wouldn’t have been unusual for Ten’yuu to be thoroughly questioned about these events, but the emperor took his son’s words at face value. The truth was that the emperor had been deeply concerned about Ten’yuu and his mother. However, due to political obligations, he had been unable to support them in any official capacity, and for that, guilt had gnawed at him. Therefore, the emperor neglected to interrogate Ten’yuu any further, even though he found the explanation unsatisfactory. Instead, he only thanked the prince for returning with the panaceas.

And so, Ten’yuu’s long search for a cure had come to an end.