Doggone Academy
Chapter 99 Circulatory System (1)

Students streamed into the large auditorium, capable of accommodating hundreds. The joint classes, delayed due to the black mage’s invasion, were finally about to start in earnest.

For all first-year students to gather in one place like this—the first instance since the entrance exam. While the atmosphere had been chaotic then, including aspiring entrants, there was now a semblance of proper tension.

Over half of the students had already grouped up with their formed teams and took seats together. They whispered and discussed among themselves whenever someone new entered the classroom.

Sion’s face was also visible after a long while. She was early, already perched at the backest corner, resting her chin in her hand and observing.

Would she still remember the challenge issued during the entrance exam? I could only hope that the busy academy life had caused her to forget. Because I had no intention of fighting.

A few students around me whispered, pondering how they could entice Sion to join their group.

Naturally, the students who garnered the most attention were those who secured the top ranks in each department.

Unfortunately, Luna, the top student of the Magic Department, was absent. I had hoped she would participate in this class, but it seems the aftereffects were still severe, as there was no word from her.

The classroom door opened, and a group of students entered. I recognized a few faces among them.

Three girls and a boy, including Cecil’s group with Trisha. After scanning the vicinity, they took seats near the front desks.

Like the other students, they chattered among themselves for a while until Trisha suddenly turned around to survey the classroom.

Then, she called out loudly.

“Damian!”

She had spotted me and waved energetically. Her eyesight was exceptional, finding me hidden among so many people.

Cecil and the rest of her group turned to look up at me all at once. Sᴇaʀᴄh the NovᴇlFɪre .ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

They muttered something to each other, but too far for me to hear.

Thanks to Trisha’s voice attracting attention, dozens of other students glanced at my face.

I pulled out a notebook and pretended to read, covering my face.

***

Cecil commented dryly.

“Is it him?”

They had easily recognized Damian despite the distance, thanks to his distinctive appearance that needed no further description.

“Yeah!”

“Did you get to know him through the drama club?”

“No! He joined the art department.”

“It’s odd. There’s no intersection between you two; how did you become friends in such a short time?”

“Don’t even mention it, sister. He’s the one who relentlessly pursued me to become friends.”

Cecil did not seem to fully believe Trisha’s words.

“Sure, he must have followed you around a lot.”

She chuckled dismissively and turned her gaze to a book.

Bertang interjected with a teasing question.

“Are you really friends? He covers his face and doesn’t even greet you.”

Trisha scowled slightly.

“He doesn’t like being the center of attention, that’s why.”

Despite Bertang’s attempts to get closer, Trisha consistently used polite language with him, her fellow peer.

He was someone she had known even before Damian, yet she had yet to engage in relaxed conversations with him. As for Damian, it was Trisha who approached him first. Bertang reflected on what he might have missed amidst Trisha’s serious demeanor.

Right on schedule for the class, a senior professor entered the room.

With the professor’s arrival, the once bustling classroom fell silent at once.

His hair was white and his face lined with amiable wrinkles, suggesting his retirement was near. Yet, his posture was erect and his stride firm, lacking any sense of feebleness.

He stood before the lectern, glanced over the students, and cleared his throat.

“Ahem. There are some empty seats, but I trust no one is absent. No fool would be late to the first class. Everyone must be busy adjusting to Eternia. I feel the same. After all, I’ve barely been back from the north for a day.”

His enunciation was strong, belying his age, and each word reached even those seated at the very back.

“Let’s start with an introduction. I am Professor Rakam of the Magic Department. Specifically, I deal with barrier magic and defensive spells.”

He surveyed the students’ faces and then smiled mischievously. He paced the stage leisurely, hands clasped behind his back, as he continued.

“There are a few puzzled faces. You must be thinking, wasn’t this supposed to be an alchemy lesson? Suddenly a magic professor? Was the information wrong? No, you’ve been informed correctly. This is indeed a lesson on alchemy, not directly related to magic.”

“Surely you’re wondering why we’ve gathered all the first-year students from each department for just alchemy. What does the damned subject have to do with combat, magic, or magical engineering? I know the image of alchemy imprinted in your heads—it’s thanks to the quacks who seduce noblewomen with their ‘elixir of youth.'”

A few students chuckled. The ‘youth elixir’ was available anywhere on the continent, synonymous with the quintessential con of fraudulent alchemists.

“I’ll ask you a few questions. How many students here know the names of all ten continent’s Swordmasters? Raise your hand if you do.”

More than half the crowd raised their hands.

“And what about the Four Grand Magicians?”

Almost all students raised their hands this time.

“How about the Three Grand Magicians of Artifice?”

A similar number raised their hands.

“You’ve been reading up on history, I see. Now, how about this. Has anyone ever heard of a sage who has reached the master stage of alchemy?”

Only three students raised their hands.

“Look at that. You have no interest in alchemy. When you need something that requires alchemy, you think you just have to pay for someone else’s work. You have no idea how alchemy influences the world. You view attempting to understand the principles of alchemy as a waste of time, even the alchemy students.”

The atmosphere in the classroom cooled as if doused with cold water.

“Alchemy is not a mere potion-making course. It is a discipline that seeks to understand and integrate the circulatory principles of the material world, comprising humans, nature, and the universe. Though it differs in approach from magical and mechanical arts, the ultimate pursuit is the same.”

At the professor’s cue, two assistants who had been standing by the door approached the platform, each carrying a roll as tall as a person.

They hung it high on the wall and unfurled the scroll—it was a map of the Grace Mountains, including Eternia.

“What do you think is the beginning and the end of alchemy? Most would assume it’s within books. Truth isn’t confined to parchment. It exists in the dandelions on the road, the mountain breeze, and even in cow dung. Sages were originally not alchemists but travelers. They attained truth not through theory, but experience.”

Professor Rakam finally revealed the true purpose of the lesson.

“You need to awaken to what alchemy is. Not with your minds, but with your bodies. Therefore, to grasp the basics of alchemy, you will embark on a pilgrimage for one week.”

The classroom buzzed with murmurs.

A student raised his hand high.

With the professor’s nod of approval, a young man posed a question.

“By pilgrimage, do you mean we just need to travel around and come back?”

“That’s one way to look at it. You are free to carry food, potions, and other supplies with you.”

He tapped the wall map with a pointer, indicating a specific area.

“Follow the Eternia River downstream along the Grace Mountains, and you’ll reach an ancient forest region known as Sodderton. There, where the magic of the Grace Mountains and fertile soil have been deposited over tens of thousands of years, a unique circulatory system has formed thanks to long-term occupation by spirits. This is precisely where you’ll find things unlike anywhere else. Sodderton Ancient Forest is your destination. Any other questions?”

About twenty students raised their hands at once. The professor gestured for the next question.

“Just visiting that place fulfills the objective? How is the scoring determined?”

“Simply make it to the heart of Sodderton. Get well-acquainted there. We have methods to measure your adaptability so there’s no need to worry. Setting foot there will grant you high marks. But mind you, the place isn’t as easy as you may think. I assure you, half of you will be expelled before you can settle in. Let’s set a more precise goal—the purpose of this lesson is ‘integration into the circulatory system.'”

Listening to the professor’s discourse, Damian felt a strange sense of familiarity. Zverev was also an alchemist and a traveler, and his recipes emphasized the importance of the circulatory system and sharply criticized the mainstream alchemy school that dismissed its existence.

Another question followed.

“It’s said that rewards are given for the best performance. Could you tell us about these rewards?”

“Aah, yes. Certainly, I’ll speak of that. Among you, there will undeniably be those unsatisfied with simply traveling to Sodderton and returning. Those who crave the highest spot.”

His remark targeted students aiming for the honor of top rank.

“In the central region of Sodderton, a unique magical field unfolds. There, unfamiliar minerals and herbs yet to be fully studied, and above all, the most powerful familiar in the world residing. This familiar governs Sodderton’s circulatory system. In a sense, it is akin to a native deity.”

The professor took a steel box out of his pocket. From within, he brought out a thumb-sized vial and presented it before the students.

“Normally this should be conveyed secretly, but since rumors have spread, I will disclose the reward. Bring me the horn of that grand familiar, and you’ll receive the highest score for this lesson plus a potion as a reward for a significant contribution to alchemy research.”

Damian, who had been sitting at the back and absorbing the professor’s words, found it peculiar as he noticed the commotion among the students. It seemed everyone but him knew of the potion.

“It takes well over ten years just to produce one bottle of this. Even then, the recipe is monopolized by one person, and only with enormous luck can you obtain it. This is indeed a potion that encapsulates the essence of alchemy. With this one potion, you can control a human soul. Of course, it’s not perfect.”

The classroom, filled with hundreds, became so silent one could almost hear a pin drop.

“The one who finishes first will be awarded with this ‘Elixir of Love.’”

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