After the relentless Magic Creation class, Alex went to wait for Marc—after all, they shared the Anatomy class.
While he waited, he trained his mana gathering, trying to make the most of his time. The soft hum of energy filled the air as he breathed slowly, drawing in mana until a familiar voice broke his concentration.
"Hey, dude, how was Magic Creation class?" Marc's voice carried his usual mix of curiosity and mischief.
"Well, I guess as good as the Martial Arts Creation class," Alex replied dryly.
Marc chuckled. "Figures."
"We have a little less than three hours until Anatomy," Alex continued, brushing the dust from his pants. "I'm planning to train mana gathering. You joining?"
"Heh, trying to min-max your time, huh?" Marc grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Okay, I'm in. I don't want to fall behind you—otherwise, you're gonna be a pain in my ass."
Alex smirked, shaking his head but said nothing.
And so, the duo practiced mana gathering, sitting cross-legged beneath a tree in the courtyard. The faint shimmer of ambient mana glowed around them as time passed, the rhythmic pull and release of energy almost meditative. They kept careful track of the minutes so they wouldn't be late for class.
Anatomy class was what one might expect—tedious, dense, and full of text-heavy lectures. But in Alex's case, he couldn't afford to ignore it. He needed anatomical knowledge to make his healing magic function properly. Without it, his spells would consume triple the mana for the same effect as someone who actually understood the body.
By the time class ended, his mind was swimming with terminology and diagrams. He stretched his back, letting out a soft sigh before heading straight to his next class—Alchemy.
This one had his full attention.
He had already been taught by Octavius, but he wanted to see if the academy's teachings differed or revealed something new.
When he entered the classroom, he sat, as usual, at the back. The room was half-empty, rows of empty desks echoing with quiet disinterest. It seemed Alchemy wasn't the most popular subject.
Another thing caught his attention: nearly 90% of the students were commoners.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought of Alchemy as a potential way to earn money.
Then, a mature woman in an elegant green dress entered the room. Her poise was refined, yet cold. She took a single sweeping glance across the classroom and turned her head slightly, her expression betraying a trace of disappointment. Probably because her class wasn't as popular as she had hoped—or at least not with the people she wanted to attend.
"Okay, kids. Name's Marivel Maxwell," she began, her tone clipped but firm. "Today I'm going to teach you the very basics of alchemy."
She grabbed a piece of chalk and began writing on the board, each motion precise and deliberate.
"No alchemist can truly be called one if they don't know how plants are categorized," she said, the sharp sound of chalk punctuating her words.
"There are several categories of flora: Healing & Restoration, Toxic & Poisonous, Elemental & Reactive, Arcane & Spiritual, Rare, Ancient & Forbidden, Reagent flora, and Empowering flora."
She paused, turning to face the class.
"The first three can be skipped, as their names are self-explanatory. Arcane refers to any flora that embodies mana or magic. Spiritual means they affect the soul—either positively or negatively.
"Rare, Ancient, and Forbidden flora are… troublesome. These are the kinds that can get you into serious trouble, as most are prohibited to use unless granted a royal permit. Reagent flora are those used to amplify or stabilize other brews. And Empowering flora are the ones used to enhance the user's elemental effectiveness."
Marivel's voice remained steady, her explanation methodical. Alex, however, already knew most of this—Octavius had drilled it into him long ago.
"Now," she continued, tapping the chalk against the board, "there are myriads of plants in the world. These are divided by rarity:
Common > Uncommon > Rare > Very Rare > Ancient > Legendary.
"Of course, the rarer the plant, the stronger the effect. Starting from the Ancient category, flora begin to possess unique traits. An example would be Lunaris Dewfern—an Ancient-class healing plant that can cure any disease if brewed under moonlight."
The teacher continued to explain various plants, giving examples of each classification. The lecture moved briskly, yet every sentence carried weight.
"To create a potion," Marivel began, "you must first know your intention—what you want the potion to do. Then, you find the plants that grant those effects.
"After identifying them, you must understand the potion's potential impact on the body. Some potions can be overly aggressive—even when they have healing properties—which can cause harm instead of recovery. To counter this, you balance the mixture with flora that temper or neutralize that aggression."
She turned, her dress flowing slightly as she walked to the table filled with alchemical instruments.
"On the other hand," she said, "there are plants with positive uses derived from poisonous origins. Take sedative potions, for example—they combine a poisonous herb with a healing one to reduce harmful effects. Like that, something meant to kill can become something used to heal."
After covering the conceptual side, she began describing the tools of the craft.
"The Alembic," she said, holding up the gleaming glass structure, "is a distilling instrument consisting of three parts: the cucurbit, which contains the liquid to be distilled; the head, which captures the vapors during the distillation; and the receiver, which gathers the condensed liquid."
She continued briskly, explaining how to use each instrument in tandem to produce different potions—starting with fire control, moving on to infusion timing, and ending with combining multiple distillates. Every detail was short —clearly limited by the clock.
"Well, kids, time's almost up. Any questions about what we covered today?"
Dozens of hands shot up—nobles included.
"Yes, you there," Marivel said, pointing to a noble boy near the front.
"Can nobles bypass the need for a royal permit to use forbidden plants?" the boy asked smugly.
It was a pointless question—the law applied equally to nobles and commoners on paper. But Alex knew better. Laws only bound those too weak to bend or break them.
With the passing of the questions, he also noticed something else.
Marivel avoided the commoners' hands entirely, calling only on nobles. She even overexplained the most trivial questions, stretching the time so as not to answer a commoner's question before the class ended.
'So she has favorites,' Alex thought bitterly. 'Not surprising, really. After all, this academy's top classes were practically built for nobles.'
After overexplaining yet another noble's question, Marivel checked the time and clapped her hands once.
"Well, that's all for today. We'll see each other tomorrow," she said—her gaze, once again, lingering only on the nobles.
As the students began to leave, Alex gathered his notes, his thoughts turning darker.
'Is it going to be like this all year? Do commoners really not matter here?'
A faint frown crossed his face as he stepped into the hallway.
'Looks like I'll have to keep an eye on the teachers and staff. I need to see just how deep this bias goes.'