Karska paused for a moment.

"May I hold it directly?" he asked, brief and restrained.

Lucas glanced at the Loticentra, then gave a lazy nod. "Go ahead."

The moment the artifact changed hands, nothing happened.

No bloom. No pulse.

Karska already knew—without the proper trigger, the Loticentra was nothing more than a container.

He stepped forward and knelt.

With one hand, Karska held the Loticentra. With the other, he unfolded the paper he had taken out earlier. An old parchment—its surface covered in rough scribbles, half-formed sigils, and mana lines drawn without symmetry. He laid it carefully on the ground, then placed the Loticentra precisely at its center.

His fingers brushed the artifact lightly, almost reverently.

The resonance structure is stable, he thought calmly.

Strange. Why does it absorb only vital mana… and not surface mana?

He withdrew his hand.

Lucas frowned. "Hey. If that thing turns on, we're getting soaked."

"No," Karska replied evenly. "There will be no issue. Please remain at ease, Young Master."

The next instant—

The paper lit up.

Not the Loticentra.

The sigils on the parchment activated first. Mana lines snapped into place, locking together—then the Loticentra began to rotate, steady and controlled, like a golf-course sprinkler, forcibly driven by the formula beneath it.

Water burst forth.

But before it could touch the ground—

WHUMM.

From the parchment itself, a transparent cube formed. Its walls were dense with compressed mana, identical sigils engraved on every face, interlocking into a sealed field.

The water was instantly contained within the cube, swirling endlessly without a single drop leaking out.

The strange part—

The Loticentra wasn't submerged.

A thin, precise gap remained, as if the artifact itself was excluded from the very medium it produced.

Lucas froze.

"…Huh?"

His eyes moved from the cube, to the parchment on the ground, then back to the Loticentra.

"Wait," he said slowly, his tone shifting.

"This… isn't the tool doing this."

Karska gave a faint smile—barely visible.

"That is correct, Young Master."

Lucas swallowed.

"…Interesting." He crouched down beside him.

He leaned in close, squinting at the parchment. "So… what the hell is this paper?"

Karska answered without hesitation, his tone flat and respectful.

"Nothing special, Young Master. A simple crafted medium. Soft materials, reinforced with intermediate-tier magic techniques. No rare components."

Lucas blinked.

"…That's it?"

His gaze shifted between the parchment, the cube, and the perfectly contained water. "You're telling me this came from something 'nothing special'?"

Genuine admiration crept into his voice.

Karska paused—just for a fraction of a second.

Why is he impressed?

He's an Alchemist. A rumored genius, at that.

He even owns something like this…

His eyes flicked briefly to the Loticentra, still hovering in its exclusion gap.

After a beat, Karska turned the question back. "Then may I ask, Young Master—what of that artifact?"

He nodded toward it. "Is it crafted purely through mana manipulation? Or perhaps an ancient mechanical framework?"

Lucas opened his mouth.

"…Uh."

He closed it.

"…Hell if I know."

The answer came out a bit too fast.

Right then—

[ SYSTEM ASSIST ONLINE ☆(≧▽≦)ﾉ ]

[ INFO REQUEST DETECTED! ]

[ TRANSLATING MECHANICS INTO USER-FRIENDLY TERMS ♪ ]

A familiar block of translucent text popped up in front of Lucas's vision, complete with an aggressively cheerful kaomoji.

[ LOTICENTRA ]

Type: Hybrid Artifact

Core Principle: Vital Mana Filtration

Notes:

• User's understanding classified as "Intuitive Overmastery"

• Explanation may cause unnecessary confusion to non-compatible observers (≧ω≦;)

Lucas stared. Oi.

The next line appeared.

[ SUGGESTED RESPONSE: ]

"I'm an alchemist who's a bit too good at this stuff, and explaining it properly would just make things worse."

Good luck! ☆彡

Lucas slowly dragged a hand down his face.

He glanced at Karska, who was still waiting patiently.

"…Alright," Lucas muttered. Then, louder, "Look. Short version?"

He gestured vaguely at the Loticentra.

"I am an alchemist. Problem is—I'm way too deep into this crap. Half the stuff I use works because it works, not because I can explain it cleanly."

He clicked his tongue. "If I start breaking down the mechanics, you're probably not gonna follow anyway."

Karska stiffened—just slightly.

Too deep?

That explanation was… not humility. It was certainty.

"I see," Karska replied after a moment, bowing his head a fraction.

"Then I will refrain from pressing further."

Lucas let out a short breath.

"Yeah," he said. "Probably for the best."

Silvara stood a few steps away.

Just standing there.

Watching the two men crouched on the ground, completely absorbed in their discussion—parchment, artifacts, mana theory—like the world around them didn't exist.

"…Seriously?" she muttered under her breath.

She crossed her arms, weight shifting to one leg. So this is it?

She had nearly been executed not long ago. Secrets had been torn open. Tension was still thick in the air. And now Lucas was nerding out on the ground with a knight.,

Her eyes narrowed at Lucas's back.

He's got time for this, she thought irritably. But not a single word for me?

Annoyance bubbled up fast.

She turned her head and glanced toward Liona, hoping—irrationally—for some shared frustration.

Instead—

Liona was by the carriage, gently stroking one of the horses' necks, smiling like the world was perfectly at peace. The horse snorted softly, clearly enjoying the attention. Liona hummed under her breath, completely detached from everything else.

Silvara's eye twitched.

"…Unbelievable."

She exhaled sharply and looked back at Lucas and Karska, still deep in conversation, still ignoring her existence.

Her grip tightened.

So I'm just background decoration now, she thought flatly. Great.

The Loticentra slowed.

Its rotation lost momentum, the steady spin easing down until it finally stopped. The metallic petals folded inward, closing back into a bud as if nothing had happened.

Karska glanced at it and spoke calmly. "Young Master. If you would."

Lucas didn't argue. With a flick of his hand, the Loticentra vanished without a trace.

The transparent cube—now completely full—began to vibrate.

The water inside sloshed in smooth, rhythmic waves, clear and pristine, like chilled mineral water drawn straight from a mountain spring. The motion intensified for a moment—

Then the cube compressed.

Its edges pulled inward cleanly, no distortion, no leakage, until it shrank down to the size of a palm.

Karska reached out and took it with one hand. With the other, he retrieved the parchment from the ground, carefully rolling it up.

He rose to his feet and bowed deeply. "My sincere thanks, Young Master. This assistance will not be forgotten."

Lucas stood up as well, hands in his pockets. "Yeah, yeah. Take care of it."

Karska gave one final, formal nod. "I shall take my leave."

He turned and walked away, posture straight, expression unchanged.

Lucas watched him go, then muttered, "…That guy's really flat, huh."

A sharp, irritated throat-clearing answered him.

"Ahem."

Lucas turned.

Silvara was standing there, arms crossed, staring straight at him.

"Done with your study session, diligent little student?" she said dryly. "We're heading back. Now."

Lucas clicked his tongue, then let out a short chuckle. "Alright, alright. Let's go back."

Silvara closed her eyes instead of responding, standing perfectly still.

Her nose twitched.

Lucas squinted. "What, you gonna sneeze?"

She opened one eye. "Yeah."

A pause.

"…Nope."

She opened both eyes again, clearly annoyed.

Lucas snorted. "Weird."

Without another word, the group turned back toward the carriage and headed for the manor.

The ride back settled into a calmer rhythm.

The earlier tension bled away with the sound of hooves and creaking wheels, replaced by the quiet sway of the carriage. The air felt lighter—almost normal again.

Up front, Liona looked especially cheerful. She gently guided the reins, shoulders relaxed, a small smile fixed on her face.

Thank goodness, she thought.

The Baroness really did accept it in the end.

That alone felt like a miracle worth celebrating.

Behind her, Lucas leaned back, arms folded behind his head, staring lazily at the sky. After a moment, he glanced sideways at Silvara.

"So," he said casually, "that Karska guy. What's his deal?"

Silvara didn't answer right away. Her gaze stayed on the passing scenery as she spoke, voice lower than usual.

"…He wasn't always like that."

Lucas raised a brow but let her continue.

"He used to be loud. Cheerful. Annoyingly competent," she added dryly. "At the academy, he was always at the top. Model noble. That's Grimhelt blood for you."

She paused.

"I wasn't sent to the academy. I was educated at the Grimhelt residence instead—at the Baroness's request," she said, brushing past the detail as if it barely mattered. "Back then, Karska smiled a lot."

Lucas hummed. "Past tense, huh."

Silvara nodded faintly. "Everything changed after his younger sister contracted Dark Root."

Her fingers tightened slightly on her lap.

"Since then, he's been… hollow. Always reading. Always experimenting. Crafting strange tools. Brewing odd potions. Anything that might help."

Lucas frowned. "Dark Root… what kind of disease is that, anyway?"

Silvara shook her head slowly. "No one knows. The cause has never been identified. The body gradually weakens. Hair loss is common—sometimes severe. In advanced cases, patients can lose it entirely."

Lucas went quiet for a second.

"…Huh," he muttered. "That kinda sounds like cancer."

Silvara turned to him. "Cancer?"

"Yeah," Lucas replied. "Disease from my world. Different details, but same vibe. Body turning against itself. Hard as hell to treat."

Silvara looked away again. "So even in other worlds… there are things beyond medicine."

Lucas exhaled through his nose. "Yeah. Sadly."

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