The laboratory smelled faintly of burnt herbs and simmering compounds. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, catching on motes of dust that swirled lazily above the polished tables. Rows of glass flasks lined the counters, some filled with pale liquids, others with powders that shimmered faintly under the light.
I stood in the center, hands hovering over the floating vials, letting my Space Magic guide their precise movements. Today's goal was simple in theory, impossible in practice: a healing potion potent enough to stabilize severe injuries, something far beyond the usual classwork.
Since knowing that I transmigated into a book, i always had this unsettling feeling. I think…
I think I could need this potion in the future.
So it has to work!
I pushed the worry aside and focused. Each ingredient floated into the center of my field, spinning slowly, glowing faintly as my mana threaded around them, keeping everything perfectly aligned.
The first test batch had failed this morning. One vial had destabilized mid-reaction, leaving a thin smoke curling from the opening. I noted the reaction carefully in my journal, rewrote the timing sequences, and adjusted the ratios.
Now, I was experimenting with a layered circulation technique I had developed. Instead of mixing everything at once, I infused each component in overlapping layers, using small currents of Space Magic to weave them together without letting the reactive forces clash. A golden herb floated toward the center, then split into microscopic filaments as I folded the space around it, letting it infuse evenly across the mixture.
"Almost…" I whispered, brow furrowed. I reached for a vial of concentrated healing crystal dust, but it wasn't on the counter. My pulse skipped.
"Right… I always forget."
I opened the small pocket dimension I had been refining. Inside, the rarest and most volatile ingredients were stored, perfectly contained. My fingers brushed the dust and drew it into the open air, careful to stabilize its tremors with subtle Space threads. It pulsed faintly, reacting to my mana with an almost sentient awareness.
I added it to the potion, folding space carefully so the crystalline powder blended without clumping. The liquid shimmered, the color shifting in a gradient from deep gold to pale lavender. My heart raced. This could work.
I tested the viscosity, pouring a small droplet onto a soft patch of herb leaves. The liquid flowed, then steadied, enveloping the leaves in a faint glow. The leaves perked, almost imperceptibly, as though receiving life. My hands trembled slightly. This could work.
I took a step back and let the mixture float in a halo of softly pulsing mana threads. I could feel the flow, the tiny variations that would decide whether this potion would heal minor scratches or stabilize a near-fatal wound. I closed my eyes, letting my senses merge with the liquid, listening to the subtle currents.
I adjusted the timing again, testing small doses on inert plant samples. Each time, the reaction became smoother, more reliable.They perked, almost imperceptibly, as though receiving life. The sensation was encouraging, but I reminded myself: this wasn't the final product.
My Space threads shimmered faintly, a stabilizing force that wouldn't exist without precise attention. This was more than alchemy. This was control, precision, and care, all woven into a fragile liquid.
I scribbled notes rapidly, marking each step and reaction, aware that even minor deviations could ruin the potion.
I tested a small drop on a synthetic wound. The edges glowed faintly, knitting together slowly. It worked, but only enough to stabilize, not fully heal. My pulse quickened. This was a first step. A crucial first step. Over the months…or even years, I would continue refining it, learning how to expand its effect, counter poisons, and stabilize even the gravest injuries.
I folded the vials into a floating carrier using a minor Space fold, careful to contain them safely. The liquids shimmered faintly, promising potential, but reminding me that mastery would take time. My hands relaxed, but my mind remained alert.
I exhaled, pressing a hand lightly to my forehead. This was only the beginning. I had created a stable foundation, but the work ahead was vast. Every drop, every fold, every subtle adjustment mattered. And one day, if the story unfolded as I feared, I would need this skill to keep someone alive long enough to reach proper care.
The sun had shifted lower in the sky, painting the Academy's Rare Magic Hall with long, soft shadows. I walked along the polished stone corridor, aware of my heartbeat, yet eager. Professor Lin, the Space Magic instructor, had noticed something unusual during the last Rare Magic formation. He hadn't called us directly, but word had quietly spread among the students: my subtle intervention during the previous exercise had stabilized the Legendary Students' formation, and it might be worth exploring further.
I had decided to come early, but it seemed Yung Yu had arrived even before me, standing quietly while I trailed behind the professor. Professor Lin's presence was calm and measured, his aura carrying a quiet authority that commanded attention without a single word.
"Good morning," he said, not stopping, his eyes scanning the hall. "I trust you both are ready. I want you to explore your abilities in coordination and control, but without forcing the energy. Let it flow naturally. Observe each other, and observe yourself."
I glanced at him, then at Yung Yu. He gave a curt nod, still tense, his Dark Mana restrained yet palpable.
"Dark Magic can be difficult to control," Professor Lin continued, his voice even, "especially when it comes into contact with its opposing force. Lianmei, I think you've already noticed this. That is why you will assist Yung Yu today."
We began walking into position. My steps were careful, but my mind buzzed with anticipation. The Professor's eyes were on us, but he wasn't hovering. He wanted observation, not interference. He wanted the experiment to unfold organically.
I realized I could practice without being in the spotlight, with Yung Yu testing the limits of his Dark Magic and me subtly integrating my Space Magic. Today was less about competition and more about measuring control, testing stabilization, and seeing how far my Space abilities could support others in real-time.