"You don't have to follow me."

  "Yes, I do."

  Mal glanced back at the second set of footsteps that had been trailing him for the past ten minutes. His feet crunched against the dirt, the twilight sun flickering through the dappled foliage overhead.

  Lusia had her hands in front of her, her eyes forward and steady.

  Mal was fairly certain that she would not be budging from her perceived duty. He sighed and turned back around. He took another sniff of the air and noted the faint signature of wizardry—someone had passed through here, most likely a fellow forager.

  Perhaps if my mana sensitivity was high enough, I'd be able to track down the heroine.

  Even now, he still hadn't made up his mind about her.

  He detested that woman, but the world needed her. At the very least, if he knew who she was, he would be able to flee her.

  Phantom pain hit his chest, a sharp stabbing sensation. He pursed his lips, it was best not to show any visible signs of discomfort.

  Perhaps it was cowardly of him to avoid her. It was like a child running away from their responsibilities. But just the mere idea of speaking to the heroine caused him physical pain. At that point, Mal felt fairly justified in saying that it was for the best that they didn't meet.

  He licked his dry lips. It would be an awkward conversation with Philo and Rolam once they became Heralds. He would have to explain why he didn't feel comfortable being in the same room as a moral paragon of goodness.

  "May I ask what exactly we're out here for?" Lusia said from behind him.

  He'd been expecting the question eventually.

  "I'm looking for a potion ingredient," he said. "It's not official, not a part of school assignments. Just something I'm working on in my personal time."

  She paused. "What is this ingredient?"

  He was getting better at reading her tone. Despite there being absolutely no inflection, that hitch at the beginning of the sentence indicated suspicion.

  How best to explain what he was planning to do? Would she try to stop him? No, surely not. It felt very out of character for her. Yet at the same time, Mal just didn't feel comfortable telling her. He couldn't quite pin the reason why, there was something holding back his tongue.

  "Nothing important, just a potion for mana regeneration."

  She nodded, seeming to accept that answer, and the two fell into silence again.

  Eventually, they reached the forest.

  "There may be the occasional magical beast, but nothing too dangerous," Mal said. "At least, nothing we can't handle."

  "We?"

  Mal was a bit confused for a moment before he realized that Lusia probably hadn't been paying attention to his combat classes.

  "I've been learning a thing or two from Vigil. Enough to help out a little."

  Lusia looked doubtful of that, but she didn't question it. She was probably intending to just keep him out of the way while she took care of any real threats.

  Well, that suited Mal just fine. There was no real risk to Lusia. Even if anything showed up, she’d be able to take care of it on her own. If she wanted to do that, who was Mal to stop her?

  As expected, they came across some golems made of wood. They tried attacking Mal only to be kicked into the ground by Lusia and then have their heads ripped off. Mal noted that her small frame did not at all suit the monstrous level of strength that she had.

  Mal considered grabbing materials from them, but as far as he knew, there was nothing particularly special about these magical beasts. If he really needed anything from them, he'd come back to this region and look for a few more of them.

  Finally, they reached what Mal had been looking for.

  A bush with leaves the shade of gold. Yellow, bright, shimmering gold.

  Mal kneeled down to get a better look. Contrary to their appearance, there was no metallic mana residing inside of the plant. Indeed, the plant itself didn't have any magical properties. Its purpose was far more mundane. All it would do was make sure that his digestive system slowed significantly while consuming the Shattercore potion.

  The frustrating part was that it had to be harvested in a very specific way. Mal had to cut them so that the fluids within would remain without exposure to the atmosphere. Apparently it would lose effectiveness the longer and the more the air was allowed to interact with the internal fluids.

  Mal pulled out a knife from his satchel and got to work.

  The trick was to cut into the hidden ridges along the stem. If you could cut exactly at those points, then the leaf would remain sealed while allowing it to be gently plucked off.

  He made an incision—and immediately, his hand slipped. The fluids of the leaf leapt out and the golden color disappeared.

  He sighed and picked another leaf. This time, he went as slow as he could. His hand shook and he did his best to steady them, but they refused to work. He pressed into the stem—the same result.

  Things continued on in this manner for the next ten minutes, Mal trying and failing to make the required incision.

  He knew who he had to ask for help. He didn't like it, but it was becoming abundantly clear that he simply did not have the needed dexterity to make such a delicate cut.

  "Lusia?" He looked over at her. "Do you mind assisting me?"

  Her nose twitched. She nodded.

  "Understood," she said.

  She knelt down, her dress digging into the grass below. Mal passed her the knife and she wrapped her hand around the handle. Gingerly, she took it from his hand and nodded.

  "What next?"

  Mal took the stem and brought it as close to their eyes as he could. "You see these ridges?" He pointed them out with his nail. "I need you to cut along them in that specific V-shaped pattern."

  Her eyebrows furrowed by the slightest of margins.

  She was curious. At least, that was what Mal thought was the case.

  Before he knew what he was doing, he continued speaking.

  "What we're trying to do," he said. "Is cut into the hardest parts of the plant where there's less chance for the insides to leak out. That's what we're actually after—not the Nettleleaf itself, or the plant, but the juices inside, if that makes sense."

  "What does this plant do? Clarify."

  "Its main purpose is to act as a digestive slower. Basically, whatever's in your stomach will stay there for a good long while."

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  She blinked. "What does that have to do with mana regeneration?"

  Mal opened his mouth to respond and froze.

  What did a plant having to do with digestion have to do with mana? Thinking quickly, he came up with some ridiculous story on the fly.

  "You see," he said. "Because mana potions are administered as a liquid, some of it goes to waste because it's immediately sent out the other end, if you know what I mean. So that means that if you add something to slow down your digestion, that allows you to extract every last bit of the potion out of the liquid into your body."

  That actually sounded almost possible. Mal might need to figure out if he was actually saying something true.

  She nodded. "Understood."

  The knife pressed into the ridge of the stem. It cut smoothly into the designated line. She brought it back out, then sliced into it from the other side. The leaf fluttered down to the ground, stem attached.

  Mal picked it up off the ground and put it inside of his satchel. "Excellent work, Lusia. We'll need to do that several more times, but with how easily you did that one, I have no doubt that we'll be done in no time."

  She nodded and then went to another leaf. Her hands somehow became more dexterous each time she did it. She moved faster and faster, learning more about the process with every step. Mal's own hands were a blur as he picked up one after the other.

  Suddenly, her fingers slipped and the knife cut a smooth line into her thumb. She hissed and dropped it to the ground.

  Mal's eyebrows shot up. "Hold on a second, I have something for this."

  Lusia glanced over at him with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?"

  Mal looked over at a nearby rock and took the knife off the ground. He used the knife to cut off some of the moss growing off the rock and walked back to Lusia and knelt down.

  "Hold out your hand," he said.

  Lusia pulled back. "What are you doing? Clarify."

  "What do you think I'm trying to do? First aid. Give me your hand."

  She stared at him in silence for several moments before she gave a stiff nod and held out her bleeding thumb.

  Mal pressed the moss against her wound and then tore a strip off of his robe.

  "You’re damaging your robe,” Lusia said.

  "This is secondhand anyway. I'll be replacing it at some point in the future." He wrapped the cloth around her finger. "It's lucky that we learned about this recently in herbalism. Of course, this isn't any good for really bad wounds, but for a shallow cut like this, it'll stem the bleeding and prevent infection."

  He finished wrapping the wound and tied it off with a small bow.

  Lusia brought her finger back and stared at the makeshift bandage.

  "Earlier…" Her voice trailed off. "Earlier you lied to me. Twice."

  Mal stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

  "The potion that you're making. It has nothing to do with mana regeneration."

  Damn it.

  "And what was the second thing I lied about?"

  "The leaf and its usage in that mana regeneration potion."

  “How do you know that?”

  “I studied. The plants you’re harvesting have nothing in common with the plants used for those types of potions.”

  Clever girl.

  Why was she studying those things, though?

  For a second, Mal considered attempting to keep up the lie, but decided that it would probably be too much effort.

  "Yeah, I did. Sorry."

  "What are you actually attempting to do?"

  Mal scratched the back of his head. "Trying to do something with my core. It's F grade, remember?"

  Lusia seemed to stiffen at the mention of a core. Mal, frantically thinking of how they could get the conversation off track and away from himself, bulldozed forward with a question of his own.

  "People keep on referring to you as magicless," he said "What does that mean?"

  A pause.

  "I am incapable of magic. The doctor who examined me referred to me as a hollow core."

  A hollow core. Of course, Mal knew what that was. He remembered it during his research. But the fact that Lusia had this, and he'd never known...

  I truly hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to her. We’ve known each other for years, and yet she's a stranger to me.

  "How long have you had it?" Mal asked.

  "My entire life."

  "Does it affect you from day-to-day?"

  "I was never going to become a wizard or train in any kind of magical arts," she said. "The cost of such an education would have been enormous for a peasant. There was no way I'd be able to afford such a burden."

  "Would you want it fixed if it were possible?"

  “What use would a maid have for magic?”

  “But would you want it fixed?

  She glared at him. "I see what you're doing. You're trying to distract me. What is this potion you're trying to brew, and how will it affect your core?"

  Mal internally weighed how to respond. There were two options before him.

  He could either further deflect and lose what little trust he'd gained, or he could try to tell the truth and perhaps gain a little bit of her respect.

  On the other hand, there was also the risk that she would attempt to alert his father, warning him of the fact that his son was about to attempt an extremely dangerous medical procedure. Mal would be taken away from the school and locked up for his own safety.

  Mal paused his thoughts and realized that he was being hyperbolic. There was plenty of gray area in between. The odds of Lusia doing something so extreme were almost none. He didn't remember much about her, but he did remember that she did not have any particular love or respect for his father. He highly doubted that she would go to such lengths.

  If anything, she might be glad to see him accidentally off himself during the procedure.

  Mal sucked in a breath.

  "My core is basically useless," he said. "I think that much is clear to the both of us, right?"

  "Yes."

  He winced and chuckled.

  "You don't hold back." He sighed. "But yes, there's no chance for me to advance on the path of wizardry. At least, not without serious sacrifice."

  Sacrifices that he was no longer willing to make. He had to be different this time around. He couldn't make the same mistakes that he did in the past.

  "So this potion would enhance your core?" She tilted her head.

  "No, it would shatter it."

  Lusia stared at him with a blank expression.

  "You wish to destroy your core?"

  Mal nodded. "Yes. I presume you've heard of witchcraft."

  "I have."

  "I've been studying and looking into some of their theories," he said." And I confirmed that there might be something to their particular style of magic. The way they do things is fundamentally different. Apparently, it's said that shattering a core significantly aids in that method. There's even a prophecy about it—though of course the whole thing is probably bunk. Still, there's a kernel of truth in every myth, and—"

  "Do witches normally shatter their cores?"

  Mal saw where this was going.

  "No."

  "Why don't they?"

  "The procedure has a small chance to, well—" he coughed into his hand. "—kill you, but—"

  "And you're going to go through with this?" Her eyes narrowed. "Do you have any data on your chances of survival?"

  "Some. The fact that my core is already so weak apparently means that my odds of survival are much higher than they otherwise would be."

  "Has this potion ever been tested?"

  Mal made a so-so motion with his hand. "I mean, not this potion specifically, because I'm making some modifications."

  "From what I'm understanding," she said, "you're planning to intentionally eliminate an essential organ of your body—one that is deeply linked to your survivability. This is essentially equivalent to removing your liver."

  "Basically."

  Her eyebrows furrowed together. "Clarify. Why would you seek to do something so dangerous?"

  What was he supposed to say to this? That he was from the future? That the end of the world was coming and that he didn't believe that the Heralds were strong enough to stop it? That he received a vision of the future?

  "I need to become more powerful," Mal said. "The world is a dangerous place for an F-grade core. Sooner or later, I'll cross the wrong person, and then…"

  "You didn't act like this before."

  Mal shrugged. "Things have changed. I have people I need to protect—"

  "Protect?"

  He'd said too much. He needed to stop talking. "No, I—"

  "Who? Philo and Rolam? You can't convince me that you don't see them as nothing more than stepping stones to whatever goal you're trying to achieve."

  Right on the money. Lusia was too observant for her own good.

  "Your father?" she continued. "No, I don't understand the inner workings of your mind, but I don't see a world in which you dedicate yourself to his protection."

  "It was a slip of the tongue," Mal said. "You know me. Selfish to the bone. I'm just looking out for myself."

  Her jaw locked and she stared at him.

  "I see."

  This woman knew him far too well. And he, in return, knew almost nothing about her.

  His gaze wandered away from her. "I've done a lot of wrong, Lusia. I don't think I've changed that much, at my core. I look better and I sound better, but deep down, I'm the same person that I've always been. Just a little bit smarter."

  She didn't say anything.

  "But even someone like me, even at my lowest, I was capable of feeling guilt. And it might just be that I've decided that there's someone whom I owe. And for all of my general scumminess, one thing I do try to avoid is unpaid debts. Especially when the thing I owe costs so much."

  She had been an innocent, and he'd taken her life. There was no good reason. No higher purpose. Of all the people he'd wronged, she was the one he most regretted.

  He didn't care about her, he reminded himself. Not really. He was at least self-aware of that much. Like he'd just told her, his most fundamental being was that of the selfish boy he'd always been.

  But even if he didn't care about her, that didn't mean he didn't owe her.

  The conversation seemed to die out after that, Lusia either thinking of or systematically forgetting what they just discussed. It didn't particularly matter to Mal.

  Inside of his mind, he resolved to himself that he would find a way to fix Lusia's hollow core.

  It was the least he could do, after all.

  When they arrived at the streets of Exodi, it had already turned dark. Despite that, the city continued to be a flurry of activity on the main streets, carriages and people alike walking underneath the red-tiled roofs and the perfectly cleaned white stone walls of the houses.

  So lost in his thoughts, he didn't see the person turning the corner until it was too late.

  He collided with their body and the two of them stumbled back from each other.

  Mal caught himself before he fell and then looked over at the person he ran into. "Hey, sorry about that—"

  His breath caught.

  With those bright blue eyes and that golden yellow hair, he would've had to be blind to not know who he just ran into.

  The woman brushed her robes with her hands. She looked up at him and smiled.

  "Malfrasius Patoal," Princess Savaly said, her words slow and deliberate, like she was tasting them on her tongue. "It's a pleasure to see you outside of school."