Research Life of a New Professor at Magic University

Worst-case scenario.

Friday afternoon, the first lecture of the ‘Practical Application of Magical Materials’ class.

Atwell planned to briefly explain the purpose of the class and move on immediately.
Fortunately, most students taking the practical class had also attended the theory class.
There were only two students who didn’t.

Stella Lacton was a student who attended both theory and practical classes.
She was sitting near the professor’s desk, smiling brightly as usual.

“Hello. I’m Roger Atwell from the Applied Magic Research Lab.
I’ll be teaching the Practical Application of Magical Materials class for this semester. Please, be kind to me.”

After the greetings, Atwell proceeded to introduce the teaching assistant and continued speaking.
Unlike during the theory class, Arien didn’t leave the professor’s side even after the introduction.

“Most of you are also taking the ‘Utilization of Magical Materials’ class, but I’ll still talk for those who are only taking this course.
A wizard must be able to handle any situation with limited resources and knowledge. Remember, there’s not only a scarcity of resources, but it is also present with knowledge.

That’s why a wizard needs to acquire various kinds of knowledge.
‘Acquire’ is the keyword here.
Experiential knowledge gained through actual experience is much more valuable than knowledge obtained through reading and memorization.”

Although Atwell, who had earned a Ph.D. in a theoretical field, didn’t have much to say, the students agreed.
At least his words during the previous class were consistent.

“Do you understand why I’m saying this? That’s exactly the purpose of this class.
There will be experiments that wrap up as easily as you think, and there will be experiments that fail because they are too difficult and complex.

In this class, both the process of success and failure are important.
Experiences of fixing failures and experiences of not being able to solve problems until the end without knowing what’s wrong are also necessary.
Unexpected coincidences, unfortunate failures, unintentional successes—all have value.”

Professor Atwell took out a bundle of papers.
The teaching assistant, Arien, distributed them to the students one by one.

“The experiment you’ll try for the first time today is ‘Antidote Brewing.’
Specifically, you’ll attempt brewing a low-level antidote.

However, think of it not just as making a simple antidote but as an opportunity to learn about potion brewing as a whole.
At the same time, consider it an experience of solving problems in given situations.

You cannot master the recipe for every one of the thousands of potions.
You must expand and apply the knowledge you’ve learned.”

Professor Atwell confirmed that all the students were paying attention.
Except for Stella Lacton, who was smiling to herself, everyone else had serious expressions.

“Alright, I’ll start the explanation.
First, I’ll briefly explain the item we’ll be making today.
As mentioned earlier, it’s an antidote. Literally, a medicine that treats poison.”

Antidotes were essential potions for adventurer parties, along with health recovery potions.
Some households even had them in stock.

“In fact, the term ‘antidote’ is somewhat peculiar.
Just as there are various kinds of poisons, there are also various methods of antidote.
Because of the name ‘antidote,’ it’s easy to think it’s effective against all poisons.

It’s absolutely not.
Chemical poisons, biological poisons, and magical poisons are different.
Of course, this is just an artificial classification, and even if the major categories are the same, the treatment methods are not.”

It’s a matter that is obvious but not often paid attention to unless deliberately noted.
In reality, most adventurers just purchased and used one antidote.

“However, when people usually say ‘standard antidote,’ they’re referring to antidotes for the most common poisons they encounter.
For groups without wizards, encounters with these are even more frequent.
Scorpions, snakes, and slimes. These three biological groups don’t have much in common.
If you have to find a similarity, it’s probably that they’re often found in dungeons.

Besides that, their habitats are different, and the characteristics of their poisons are also different.
Slime poison is magical, while scorpion and snake poisons are biological.
Moreover, even though they are classified similarly, the poison of a scorpion is completely different from that of a snake.”

The reason this antidote is widely used is that it can counter all three types.
Its effectiveness against each is not as good as that of specialized antidotes.

However, carrying sufficient quantities of all three types of potions is expensive and cumbersome.
Novice adventurers prefer a universal antidote that can deal with all three.

“So, the characteristics this antidote should have can be summarized as follows.
First, it should have the ability to detoxify scorpion poison, snake poison, and slime mucus.
At the same time, there should be no adverse effects when no poison is present.

The boundary between medicine and poison is not clear.
Usually, even what is considered a poison can be used as medicine if the dosage is controlled well.
Conversely, something used as medicine in certain situations can be poisonous in others.

And the person taking this antidote is someone poisoned by any of the three.
Even minor side effects can be fatal.”

This was something that hadn’t been considered in previous academy classes or lower-level courses.
It was natural since those were more for theoretical knowledge rather than practical application.

“Now, let’s apply the theory we’ve roughly learned into practice.

Overdosing is absolutely prohibited.
Adding ‘sufficient’ amounts to cure for snake bites can cause a person stung by a scorpion to faint when consumed.
If it’s someone covered in slime, their rash might worsen.”

Students had never heard of someone fainting after taking the antidote sold at adventurer guilds.
Usually, the products sold had additional ingredients and processes to neutralize them.
Moreover, these low-cost antidotes were more for emergency use to endure until proper treatment could be obtained.
People usually didn’t gulp down expensive antidotes.
They would apply a little to the wound and sip it slowly.

“This recipe is based on the production method of the antidotes sold by the adventurer guild.
But it’s not exactly the same.

So, I won’t demand that you produce the exact same result as that.
We’re making this potion today not to sell it but to learn about it.”

The paper Professor Atwell handed out at the beginning of class contained the recipe for today’s experiment.
It listed the experiment materials and procedures objectives.
It also briefly summarized background knowledge consisting of basic information they would have learned in the academy or lower-level classes.

However, one crucial detail was missing from the experiment procedure.
It didn’t specify the quantity of each ingredient.
Even though they were given measuring tools like scales, the volumes were not provided.
It was clearly intentional.

“So, please don’t just focus on making it.
Think about what the right ingredients are and how much of each is appropriate.

Earlier, I mentioned only scorpions, snakes, and slimes, but there are many types of poisons in the world.
In a situation where you’re poisoned by a completely different toxin, this antidote might be all you have.

And you might need to concoct the necessary medicine based on this recipe.
So, you should create something that could be helpful, at least.
Naturally, you won’t know the detailed recipe and measurements for that potion.”

Some students thought they might be provided with the measurements separately, but after hearing Professor Atwell’s explanation, they had no choice but to give up.
He regarded the measurements as the core of the evaluation.

“What I expect from you isn’t precise craftsmanship.”

The elven assistant glanced slightly at the professor.

“It’s the ability to propose solutions based on your knowledge and draw conclusions.
We’ll focus on the process rather than the result. Therefore, when you submit your work today, I’ll listen to your explanation of what you’ve made.”

The students looked anxious.
While the theory class was somewhat relaxing, rumor has it that Professor Atwell is not lenient and is rather strict.
It would be better to be evaluated based on the result only.
Would explaining lead to deduction?

“Of course, I won’t deduct points just because the explanation is poor if the result is perfect.
After all, it would be difficult for someone without knowledge to produce a ‘perfect result’ anyway.”

Students from the alchemy department, who had a lot of experience with experiments, were relieved.
However, some students who had mechanically followed the recipe felt overwhelmed.

“But I haven’t set the evaluation criteria too strictly.
Divide the antidote you made into three bottles and drop a single drop of poison into each.
Since the poisons are all highly diluted solutions, I don’t think it will be too difficult.

Each drop should contain roughly the same amount of poison as would occur from being stung by a scorpion, bitten by a snake, or touched by a slime.
If one bottle cannot neutralize a single dose of poison, it can’t be called an antidote.”

Indeed, all the bottles containing poison were as clear as water.
Even the slime’s poison was so diluted that its color was barely discernible.

“If you can successfully neutralize all three types of poison, you’ll get full marks.
If there’s any poison left unneutralized, points will be deducted.
However, if a specially treated paper changes color when dipped into your antidote, regardless of its efficacy, it will be disqualified.”

This statement gave the students an understanding of what Professor Atwell believes is most important.

“You have three hours. Since this potion requires some time for ingredient preparation and mixing, if you proceed as is, you may not have enough time to make a second batch.”

When conducting such experiments, having the time to brew the potion again after a trial run could make a world’s difference.

“That’s why I’ve provided a catalyst among the materials. You can only use it once.
Thanks to this, most students can attempt it two or, if they rush, three times.
Those who need additional chances can take them, but be aware that there will be deductions.
So, you should consider the pros and cons.”

There was undoubtedly an advantage for the alchemy department students.
Alchemy students, who were accustomed to experiments, could easily attempt it three times.
However, for magic department students, weighing whether to receive deductions for additional attempts or to submit insufficient results was a dilemma.

Professor Atwell was underestimating the difficulty of this experiment.
Arien succeeded in the same conditions without even sorting herbs.
But he didn’t know that Arien had maintained excellent grades throughout his undergraduate years and had a scholarship.
He also overlooked the fact that this class was for third-year students, not for graduating students.
After all, it didn’t even take Atwell four years to graduate from his undergraduate program.

One could consider the adjustment of the difficulty level for the first practical class a failure.

Author’s Notes
In reality, poison varies depending on the species. But the setting is a magical world…
Wouldn’t it be great if there were an antidote that could counteract all venoms?