The Last Surviving Alchemist Wants to Live Quietly in the City

The rain never stopped, and the stone walls of the labyrinth city were painted black.

In the cold rain of Mitsuruga, few people walked, and there was nothing to watch a man visit the house of Agwinas outside the aristocratic city.

"Welcome aboard, Master Jack Nielenberg"

The old decree of the Agwinas family, to whom I pay a humble tribute, led Jack Nielenberg to the departure of the Agwinas family.

Built some time after the demon forest flood (stampede) of 200 years ago, this building is built to make you feel the same age as it was built, such as the shape of columns, beams, and the spaciousness of intersections. However, it has been well maintained and repaired and is still in use.

In the room behind that building, Robert Agwinas, the current head of the Agwinas family, welcomed Nielenberg.

"Where's Shelly?"

"I'm sleeping in the back. She's a really adorable young lady. What a pain, such as scarring like that. The Nielenberg Therapeutic Technician should be authorized to use the potion. Wouldn't it be possible to use just one bottle for your daughter?

Robert talks to Nielenberg, who stares at all the shooting.

"Even though I can use as much potion in the Labyrinth Crusaders right now"

Neelenberg glances at Robert's glaring remarks. How far does the Agwinas family grasp the information?

"Potions are strategic supplies. You can't divert it privately. We can't have a special case like this."

"He's loyal. You think I'd give everything to kill the labyrinth?

"Naturally. So what do you say?"

"If that word is not false, if you really want to kill the labyrinth, you should cooperate with my Agwinas family."

Robert begins to tell the truth about 200 years of labyrinthine cities.

"Even with our potion storage facilities, potions only work for about 100 years. Do you have any idea what that means?

"A hundred years? So, no way..."

"That's not true. My Agwinas family kept making potions for generations. Alchemists who survived the Devil's Forest Flood."

Two hundred years ago, people fled to the mountains while demons overflowed from the Devil's Forest attacked the defensive city. Some had accidentally left the Kingdom of Endalgia and escaped the ordeal. A dozen alchemists survived the night of the Devil's Forest flood.

"Do you know something called the Magic Formation of Temporary Death?

Neerenberg looks at the unheard word from Robert's mouth. At the time I left an invitation to this place to take Shelley away, the Agwinas family's demands were roughly conjectured. I guess we'll find out where the potion was brought into the Labyrinth Crusaders in the last two months or so. Robert went on to talk about how Nielenberg was doing.

"The Magic Formation of Pseudo-Death is literally the thing that gives the person who used it a sleep of Pseudo-Death. Those who have fallen asleep in temporary death will remain asleep until conditions are in place sufficient for regeneration."

It's supposed to be a complicated enough procedure just to put him in a state of provisional death. Besides, how difficult is it to retain a body that has stopped living for a long period of time? How complicated would it be to make that much magic into just one magic formation? That difficulty was understandable enough for Nielenberg, who led the treatment unit.

"For 200 years, before the Devil's Forest flood (Stampede) occurred, my contemporary head of the Agwinas family, Robroy Agwinas, was given the opportunity to borrow the original magic formation of temporary death."

Robroy Agwinas, who borrowed the Magic Formation of Pseudo-Death, said he created a fine reproduction.

"As we talked about earlier, it was pointed out among the alchemists who had finished rebuilding about the possibility that the potion's storage facility would not last 200 years. Worried that the lack of potion could put the Labyrinth Crusade to a halt, they replicated the magic formations of temporary death and fell asleep of their own free will."

The Alchemists' concerns became real, but whenever the potion was depleted, it seemed that each time it deteriorated, it would wake the Alchemists up and rebuild the potion to solve the problem.

"The biggest miscalculation would have been that there were no replicated makeshift magic formations."

Robert looks at Nielenberg. But that gaze is not Nielenberg, and the focus is uncertain so as to stare somewhere far away.

"Half of the alchemists who fell asleep collapsed when they fell asleep without resuscitating. The resurrected were also terribly short-lived, and some did not wake up with their magic depleted and fallen, while others threw up blood and died less than a year later."

The alchemists who were able to wake up knew their fate and continued to make potions until the last moment.

"Do you have any idea what the potion you've been using is?

Hands up to Eagle Deep and Robert asks Nielenberg.

"So what are those new drugs and what are they? If the alchemist is surviving, we need new drugs."

Robert answered Nielenberg's question when he held up the edge of his mouth and laughed as if he were a lunatic.

"There are no more potion makers left. I don't know how precise the alchemist you secured was in his sleep, but he couldn't even get the original by borrowing it from our Agwinas family. The alchemist couldn't have used the original. Better not think of it as having a life expectancy, etc. The magic formations of temporary death are complicated. No matter how elaborate it was, even my ancestor Robroy Agwinas could not achieve the original. You also know that distorted magic formations have distorted effects.

Let them make potions whenever possible, and if they still have the life expectancy of an alchemist, they must sleep again. Until the day you defeat the labyrinth, you must not use it to crush it. Whatever means you take, you have to be able to bring in an alchemist. If you've been in the Labyrinth Crusaders for a long time, you'll understand. How important is the potion? How much potion is needed. You have to know.

That's why we, the Agwinas, even created new drugs. Even for my compatriots who fell in the middle of their minds. Until the day the Labyrinth is slain and the land returns to man's hands, we must be connected. The potion.

For that! For that! Alchemists must be managed!

You know what I mean? In order to continue to use the potion, let them make it, and still, if the alchemist survives, if his life remains, let him sleep again and take it over to the next generation!

In the midst of the fallen, frenzied, the words of my father's, my grandfather's, the alchemist who collapsed and died as he spit and dissolved blood at an early age come back to life behind Robert Agwinas' brain.

Robert is pointing toward Nielenberg, but his eyes do not reflect him.

Robert had remembered the thoughts and wishes of his fellow countrymen, who had died in the last 200 years of resurrection, as if they had been entrusted directly in front of him.