27: Apparently, you can feel satisfied once the goal’s reached

Moved the exchange between Craft and Leifan from chapter 26 to chapter 27.

Added a banquet scene in its place.

Chapter 26 has been significantly revised—please take note.

"Alright, ready to go."

That day, me and Leifan gathered in the alchemy chamber, preparing to brew an elixir.

Looking at the arranged materials, Leifan let out a breath of awe.

"Even just this is incredible."

"Yeah. Dragonheart Elixir, Dragon Liver Elixir, Dragon Blood Alchemical Potion, and Ambrosia Alchemical Potion."

"What’s an alchemical potion, anyway?"

"Has no effect on its own. Just used as a material."

"I see."

"Alright then, shall we? Ready?"

"Like you can’t tell."

What I’d asked Leifan to bring were special potion bottles, small vials, jars—standard alchemy gear.

Every single one of these is Leifan’s finest work—dragon organs and blood mixed in, right down to the last drop.

I had him prepare these, just in case we’d need something this high-grade for the potion we’re making now.

“Yeah, I get that… but you went overboard.”

“Come on, you can’t even use up dragon guts like that.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

I figured we’d need more down the line, so I just made as much as I could.

“Still… this is a lot.”

Not like I’m gonna fill up my alchemy room with this many containers.

“Quality this high? We could just sell them as-is.”

“True enough.”

High-grade vials are valuable on their own.

And Leifan’s craftsmanship? Top notch. The decorations are flawless.

“Alright, back to work then!”

“Yeah!”

I plunge the mithril stirring rod into the alchemy cauldron and start tossing in the necessary ingredients.

There’s a few things I’m wondering about, but I’ll just keep going—shouldn’t be a problem.

“Alright! Alchemy: Elixir!!!”

From the alchemy cauldron, a soft puff of milky white smoke rose.

Inside the pot, a thick, creamy white substance had formed—plenty of it.

“Huh? Isn’t an elixir supposed to be a drink?”

“No, actually. It’s a salve. You rub it on the affected area.”

“What if it’s an illness?”

“You eat it.”

“……”

Hey! Don’t look at me like that! It’s a medicine—what do you expect?!

“Anyway, let’s pack it up.”

“Yeah. No, wait— not that.”

“Huh?”

The container Leifan brought was a jar about the size of a mug.

“This’ll do.”

I held a tiny bottle—just big enough to hold a spoonful, max.

“Huh?”

While Leifan stood frozen, I kept bottling it up, busy as ever.

I’d figured two would be enough, but the alchemy cauldron churned out Ambrosia Elixir way more than I’d expected…

There were forty-seven universal elixirs lined up in a row.

I left Leifan speechless and moved on to brewing another potion.

The Ambrosia Elixir doesn’t last—can’t store it, not even for a day.

Funny thing is, Dragonblood Elixir made from dragon blood? No expiration date.

For now, I’m mass-producing myth-tier medicines with what I’ve got.

Slar Wine—the legendary strength-boosting tonic.

Amrita—the one famous for reversing age.

Both ended up stacked like crazy on the table.

Leifan’s jars were nearly all used up.

"Made too much. Teehee."

"Too much, you idiot!!"

No questions asked—straight to the scolding and a stern sitting position.

I barely managed to explain the properties of the Ambrosia Alchemical Elixir halfway through before getting a look from Leifan that said, "This guy doesn’t get it."

I don’t get it.

◆

Lord Bairoroad, the Marquis of the Frontier—the head of the Goldendown Settlement Colony—stood frozen, his third son Kyle Gandar von Bairoroad utterly speechless.

Persia and Alphard behind him were no better.

Only Maina remained, poking at the thing on the table with her finger (..) while sitting on my lap.

"Alright, let’s say it again. You finished four-seven Elixirs of Universal Elixir. One-twenty-nine bottles of Slar Wine, boosting all stats temporarily. And seventy-three bottles of Amrita, reversing about a year of age per bottle."

"……"

Leifan was hunched over, clutching his head hard on the side.

Yeah. Well. Huh?

"Uh, Craft-san? You planning to start a fight with the whole world or something?"

"Guess so, if this gets out there."

"Craft..."

Persia’s expression was already past pity. Pure, unfiltered disbelief.

Alphard let out a tired sigh.

"If this thing hits the market, it might just invite invasion from other nations."

"Craft-kun. You finally get what you’ve done?"

"Dammit! I had no choice! Had to use up all that precious Ambrosia Alchemy!"

"Okay, I get that. But—"

"Anyway. Well. It's done now. No point crying over spilt milk. Let's think about what comes next."

Kyle stepped in, trying to cool things down. The heat finally settled.

"Got a plan! This whole thing’s going straight to Lord Bairoroad, the Marquis of the Frontier!"

"Can’t think of anything else, can we?"

"Truthfully, that’s great… but…"

Alphard presses a hand to his forehead.

"Right, for now, I’m taking one of these elixirs—just one—and giving it to Kyle!"

"Should be enough. No real problem at all, I think…"

"Only one was made? That’s still way better than nothing, right!?!"

"Still, that’s a problem too…"

I know it. But what can you do?

I made what I could, based on the expiration of the Ambrosia alchemical potion!

"Amrita? It’s rare—shows up once in a blue moon in dungeons. If a adventurer finds it, they sell it and retire right there."

"Rich nobles pay top coin for it."

Amrita might be the most realistic legend among all the adventurer tales.

"Anyway. Craft, so this elixir… it’ll heal Kyle, right?"

"Yeah. It cures all ailments, including moderate curses."

"Even curses?"

"Guess there’s a limit to that, but still... I haven’t actually tested it, you know. It’s not exactly something you just go poking around with."

"No, that’s fine."

Alphard and Persia exchanged a quick glance—then nodded, firm in their resolve.

"So... the ointment... is it to be eaten?"

Kyle tilted his head, holding the small bottle.

"Yeah. But you’re sick, Kyle. Just swallow it."

"……"

Silence. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

What else am I supposed to do? It’s a medicine, for crying out loud!

"I-I’m fine. I’ll take it."

"An ointment... to eat."

"Best not to think too hard about it."

The maid pulled a spoon from somewhere—plucked every last bit of cream from the bottle.

Just enough to fill the spoon to the brim.

Looks sweet. Almost like dessert. But it’s medicine.

"...uh"

Kyle took the golden spoon, letting out a muffled groan.

I get it.

"Uuu… mugh!"

With a grimace, Kyle shoved the spoon into his mouth.

"..."

"Master Kyle?"

"!"

"W-what's wrong!?"

"It's sweet... delicious..."

"..."

So that's how it is.

The elixir's actually tasty.

Huh. Everything's going sideways.

Kyle licked the spoon clean, staring at it wistfully.

Was it really that good?

"A... aah... aah!"

"What's wrong!?"

Persia panicked this time.

Kyle’s tears had just burst out of nowhere. Even we froze up.

"Did it not work!? Are you getting worse!?"

"Damn it, no—"

Kyle, weeping uncontrollably, answered desperately, his voice cracking as Persia floundered in alarm.

...the fatigue, the pain lingering in my body... it was washing away, like sand carried off by water... clean... gone completely...

After that, words failed him.

Kyle, eyes red and swollen from crying, clung to Persia as she gently cradled his head. He sobbed without shame, clinging to her.

We quietly left the room.

Good. Kyle.

◆

"Craft-san."

We were sipping tea in the guest chamber when Kyle and Maina came in.

Of course, Alphard and Persia were with them.

"Hey. Calmed down?"

"Yes. I’m sorry I made such a mess earlier."

"Damn right you did. You held on for a long time."

"Yes."

"So, about that talk we were having?"

"No, actually—before that, I have a request."

"What is it? If I can help, I will."

Kyle, born the third son of Lord Bairoroad, the Marquis of the Frontier—a noble family of great standing—grew up shunned by his older brother, all because of his frail constitution. If there’s anything I can do, I want to make it happen.

“Um… this is kind of hard to say…”

“What? We’ve known each other long enough. No need to hold back now.”

Talk to a noble like that.

What’s with the sudden formality?

“Then… uh… Craft! I want you to be my brother!”

“………………huh?”

What the hell is this?

“N-no, I don’t mean for real—I mean, I look up to you like a brother! So… could I… call you brother? Please?”

“Calm down, Kyle!”

“I’m healthy now! I won’t be a burden from now on! So…!”

“Wait, wait, wait! I do think of you like a brother, sure—”

“Then—!”

“No, seriously, that’s—”

What the hell is this supposed to mean?

Honestly, I think it'd be best if you just became my brother...

Kyle's gaze flicks to his twin sister, Maina.

I glanced over at Maina, and she turned her face away with a huff.

Yeah. That’s what I’d expect.

Uh, well. It's not like I need to talk about that right now. I just... I want to call my brother 'brother,' that's all...

"Calme down, Kyle."

"Yeah, uh-huh."

Honestly, it's nice being looked up to... but...

Yes!

Ugh...

Kyle looks up at me with sparkling eyes.

Not a single cloud in sight.

What the hell are we supposed to do about this?

I crossed my arms and paced around the room in circles.

Kyle’s expression hardens as he gets no reply right away.

...I was told I’ve always been weak in body since I was born.

Kyle spoke up, quiet at first.

"My father tried everything he could to treat me, but none of it worked."

I said nothing, just waited for him to go on.

"I thought I wouldn’t live long, so I pushed myself to study hard, just to help the family. I ended up assisting with a few policies—and it worked out."

Still not smiling much, though.

"My father… presented it as my own achievement. Said it made the poorer villagers especially happy."

Which means most of them, right?

"But that didn’t sit well with my brother… especially Zaid."

"…"

I stayed silent, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

"I was made the head of the settlement project because Zaid insisted I should do more, since I’d already succeeded. Truth is… I planned to die. But…"

Kyle ran a hand through Maina’s hair, her head already asleep.

"Just happened to bring along both twins, like it was meant to be. Honestly, don’t know the exact reason. Just… it was decided, somehow."

Maina breathed softly, asleep.

"Couldn’t just die anymore. Wanted to defy Zaid, just once. But that didn’t happen."

Third son of the nobility. Not easy. Especially not with Kyle’s temper.

"But then I met Craft! Didn’t back down from Zaid one bit! Craft, who saved me!"

Kyle lowered his voice, startled by Maina shifting slightly.

"Right then, I was saved. For the first time… someone actually saw me."

That was all. Just hated Zaid. Couldn’t say that, though.

Truth was, somewhere deep inside… Kyle felt like me. Just like me.

Since then, my heart’s been light. No one’s ever been this dependable. Even showed up as a stamina potion.

Didn’t make it for you, though.

“And… Craft, you faced a dragon—some vicious beast—just to heal me. How worried I was… how happy I felt…”

Yeah.

It was for you.

“Craft… please accept my gratitude and respect—just as a brother!”

Kyle bows his head deeply.

Not a noble’s way at all.

All I could do was let out a loud sigh.

“…Only when no one’s around.”

“Then!”

“Stop! Don’t you dare use that in front of other nobles. You’ll cause trouble!”

“Of course! Craft Brother (…)!”

That grin from Kyle—bright, wide, unfiltered—left me speechless.

After that, we decided to continue our discussion, and stepped out into the hallway.

There was Alphard, clutching his head, and Persia beside him.

Yeah.

Sorry about that.

So here I am—Kyle’s older brother.

Not really, though!

“Brother!!!” (Mukkīn!

“You’re getting too healthy!!?!”

Chapter ends with tomorrow’s update.

I’m thinking of renaming the chapter to “Dawn of the Dusk” based on comments in the feedback section… totally random, right? w