Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 324

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Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty-Four: Common Ground

“Just as you wished, Lady Karen, they study in the morning, have lunch, and work in the afternoon. They are given three meals a day, finish work at the fifth bell, and go to bed at the sixth bell.”

“And what time do they wake?”

“Half a bell after the first bell, they are woken and given breakfast. After a short rest, their lessons begin at the second bell.”

Karen was doing her rounds, observing the children’s daily routine. Guiding her were Harald, who supervised the children, and Sara, who managed the annex of the Ehlertt family’s estate, which they were borrowing.

It was afternoon, and the children were working. The expensive furniture that had filled the main hall had been moved out and replaced with children’s chairs and long tables. The children—mostly girls—sat side by side at the long tables, sewing sachet bags.

“Children who weren’t good at sewing were assigned different work. Just as you instructed, Lady Karen, I tried to match each child with tasks suited to their individual strengths and weaknesses.”

The children worked in a warm salon bathed in the afternoon sun. At the very least, none of them were hungry or shivering from the cold.

“I wonder if this is really enough…”

“I share your concern, Lady Karen. I do think we may have been a little too lenient with the children.”

Harald immediately agreed with Karen’s hesitant remark. But Sara leaned forward and said:

“Harald, I believe Lady Karen means the opposite, if anything.”

At Sara’s correction, Harald’s face went stiff with shock.

“What…? Surely not… you mean something is still lacking…?”

“Well, they don’t have any days off, do they? Working every single day without a break—wouldn’t that wear them down?”

“It seems I was the lenient one, Ms. Sara…”

Sara gave Harald a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he looked up to the heavens. Karen, left out of the moment entirely, pursed her lips.

“I will say without hesitation that this is already a dreamlike situation for every single one of those children. It vexes me that there should be any child here who fails to show gratitude to you, Lady Karen.”

With that, Harald cast a sweeping, stern look over the children working on the sachets. Karen could sense them tense at it, and she promptly ushered Harald out of the room.

Harald had reproduced Karen’s broad wishes for the children’s care with impressive faithfulness. …Though Karen couldn’t help worrying about how his deep devotion to her showed through here and there.

Could he really be like a son to me? Karen wondered, her expression somewhere between bemused and troubled—and Sara, as if reading her thoughts, spoke instead:

“Those children are likely wary precisely because of how different this treatment is from what they have known. Understanding their own low standing as they do, they cannot help but search for a hidden meaning behind being treated so well. It is entirely understandable, Lady Karen.”

“You heard her, Harald. What do you think?”

“I do not deny that such a side to the situation exists, as Ms. Sara says. Even so, they should still be grateful to you, Lady Karen. Am I wrong?”

“In the end, I agree as well.”

“So you both came to the same conclusion.”

After the New Year Festival, Helfried, Alise, and Sieg had returned to the royal capital. Karen had gone back once herself, then packed her things and returned to the capital of Ehlertt territory together with Julius. Throughout that time, Sara had remained in the Ehlertt capital as a liaison. For Harald, who had been rather abruptly left behind at the earl’s residence, having Sara—a familiar face—there must have been a great comfort.

Somehow, the two of them seemed to have grown closer than before.

“Naturally, every one of the children ought to be grateful to you for saving them, Lady Karen. In fact, I believe most of them felt a deep sense of gratitude. …However, fears buried deep within one’s heart are not so easily erased. In time, your character—and time itself—will resolve this problem.”

Sara spoke with the solemnity of a prophet. Karen suddenly realized something.

“Come to think of it, Sara—you mentioned before that Sieg saved you, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Master Sieg found me when I had nowhere to go. He took me in, helped me, and said he wished to keep me by his side. At first, the lord and lady of the house quite naturally tried to keep someone of unknown origin like me at a distance…”

Helfried and Alise? Karen found that hard to believe for a moment. Karen herself was often scolded by Natalia for being too soft-hearted, and yet even by her standards, those two were people she’d worry about for being too kind. Still, it was true that most people wouldn’t agree to take in a stray child simply because their own child had brought one home.

Karen found herself returning to a question she had wondered about before—why had Sara been left with nowhere to go? Sara had told her about her past once, but that had been the part of her story that began after meeting Sieg. Everything before that, Karen had never heard.

If Sara didn’t speak of it, it was because she didn’t want to—and so Karen had never asked. But it wasn’t difficult to guess. At the very least, Sara had no parents, no one to protect her. That was why she would understand how the children here felt—and it was part of why Karen had felt she could trust Sara with their care.

“It happened that Master Sieg fell ill with the Bloodline Blessing right around that time, and it seems both of them felt they wished to grant him whatever he asked. At his request, I was taken on as a maid and permitted to serve the household. Naturally, I felt profoundly grateful, but it was only much later that I truly came to trust the people of the Ehlertt Earldom and could express those feelings openly.”

“To rise from such a position all the way to the side of the Ehlertt heir—that could not have been achieved without extraordinary effort.”

Harald said it with heartfelt admiration.

He had no intention of prying into the past Sara chose not to speak of. Or perhaps he simply had no interest in it.

“Indeed. At first, I mostly handled odd jobs. Only much later was I allowed to serve Master Sieg closely.”

“I find that fascinating. I would very much like to hear more… I want to hear the tale of how someone with neither family nor support climbed all the way to becoming her master’s most trusted aide.”

Harald’s peculiar eagerness made Sara let out a small laugh.

“It was quite simple, really. I volunteered to taste Master Sieg’s food. In other words—I took on the most dangerous work available. After collapsing several times from poison administered by those who saw Master Sieg’s illness as an opportunity to dispose of the Ehlertt heir, I earned their trust.”

“I see. The most dangerous work. That’s very instructive.”

Rather than feeling any sorrow for Sara’s painful past, Harald received it with an air of enthusiastic personal application.

At his rather peculiar response, Sara blinked—and then burst into cheerful laughter.

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Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 323

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Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty-Three: Observing the First Signs

“…She seemed like a pretty normal person, didn’t she?”

“She looked kind, but still—”

The children had been on the verge of opening up all at once, like a dam breaking—but Harald cut them off:

“I don’t pity any of you.”

At the words of Harald, the only adult left in the room, the children immediately fell silent. Unlike when Karen had been present, faint resentment showed on their faces. They already knew who Harald was—he had told them himself. That he had once had no magical power.

Yet Harald was now an alchemist. To the children, he was someone far beyond their reach. But at the same time, he remained a beacon of hope—and one of their own.

So the children looked at Harald differently from the way they looked at Karen. He met every look—the resentment laced with a kind of neediness, the longing tangled up with awe—with the same unhurried gaze, and continued:

“I assume every one of you is familiar with the recent incident in the royal capital.”

“…Of course we know.”

Someone murmured it—no one in particular. Everyone in that room, when they heard the words “recent incident in the royal capital”, thought of only one thing. It was the reason their persecution had begun. Not that they could have honestly said they hadn’t been persecuted before. But because of Horst—because of the crimes committed by adults without magical power—they, who had committed no crime themselves, had been thrown into circumstances far harsher than before.

“Because of those people…!”

Among the children simmering with resentment, only Michael looked away with an uncomfortable expression. The target of the commoner children’s hatred—Horst—had been something like a lifeline for Michael, who came from a noble family.

Harald glanced in his direction, then said:

“Because of that incident, all of you were given a stroke of luck.”

“Huh?”

While ninety percent of the room reacted with resentment, Michael alone looked genuinely surprised.

“It was precisely because that incident made life harder for people like you that Lady Karen took you in. If that isn’t luck, what would you call it?”

The children didn’t argue back. Not because they had swallowed Harald’s words—they had long since learned that arguing with him was pointless.

“I am living proof.”

When it came to Harald as a real, breathing example, the children couldn’t help but feel something stir in them. Having drawn their attention, Harald repeated what he had told them many times before—the same doctrine he had shared again and again:

“All you need to do is believe in Lady Karen. If you do, the path will open for you in time, as it did for me. If your path does not open, it will be because your faith in Lady Karen is lacking. That would be your failing. But if you truly believe in Lady Karen—with your whole soul—then surely the day of your salvation will come.”

Harald spoke with a rapturous expression, as though delivering a prophecy. Then he walked unhurriedly to a corner of the room and removed a cloth from a painting that had been set aside there.

It depicted Karen standing before a grand, majestic staircase. A halo of light poured down from above, bathing her in brightness. To the children who had just laid eyes on the real Karen, it was clearly subject to considerable artistic embellishment.

Harald held the painting up at the center of the room and smiled at the children.

“Now then—let us offer our prayers to the goddess today as well.”

The moment he said it, the door flew open with a bang.

“HA. RA. L. D!”

“Wh—Lady Karen!? I thought you had returned to your work!?”

Karen, who had appeared to have left, had suddenly reappeared in the room. Harald faltered. The children stared wide-eyed at the expression on his face, one they had never seen before.

“Teacher Harald is… panicking…?”

“He’s usually off in his own world…”

Michael’s comment made Mark blurt out one of his own.

Harald had always been strict and impassive in front of the children. Despite being of common birth, despite having once had no magical power, he carried himself with complete confidence before the servants of the Ehlertt family’s estate and even noble-looking gentlemen of high status. He never lowered himself before anyone.

That was why the children resented him, yet admired him all the same. They were wary of his cold, unsparing manner—and yet they respected it. They recoiled from the unsettling fervour Harald displayed toward his master, and yet they burned with longing for the miracle that had given rise to that fervour.

The image of Harald—composed, untouchable—came crashing down before their eyes.

“I came back quietly to see how you all behaved on your own! What exactly are you doing!? That’s not a goddess—that’s me, isn’t it!?”

“W-Well, a goddess needn’t take any one particular form… and everyone has the right to hold their own image of a goddess in their heart…”

Harald fumbled through his excuses. Karen glared at the painting and said:

“Even so—making children who don’t even know me bow down to it is just wrong!”

The children’s inner voices all agreed: she’s absolutely right.

The staircase represented the way to the divine, and the woman standing before it represented a goddess. Day after day, the children had been made to pray before a painted image of a goddess who was modeled after the alchemist Karen—the woman who had gathered them all—while wondering what the real Karen might actually be like.

“This is basically a cult! I’m confiscating this painting too!”

“No, please…!”

Seeing Harald’s crestfallen expression, Karen let out an exasperated sigh.

“If it were just something you were doing on your own, I’d say fine—though that would still be strange… Normally, you’d compare someone you’re in love with to a goddess, wouldn’t you? You’re not in love with me or anything like that, right? Because I have Julius, and that sort of thing would be a problem.”

“Ah—nothing of the sort, I assure you, please don’t worry.”

“Right, didn’t think so. You’re more of a son to me, Harald.”

“I am your apprentice.”

The children watched the exchange in silence.

So Karen was a person with normal sensibilities—unlike Harald. Understanding that Karen was not the sort of person who would demand to be worshipped as a goddess, the children let out a collective breath of relief.

Furthermore, it was clear that Harald had gone against Karen’s wishes. And yet she had simply confiscated the painting—a light punishment—and forgiven him without any further fuss. They now understood that Karen was not the sort of person to fly into a rage over a minor misstep.

“I’m sorry for making you all put up with Harald.”

“It’s all right…”

Karen’s apology left the children giving uncertain nods.

“If Harald ever does anything strange again, let me know. I’ll put a stop to it.”

Even so, the children all thought the same thing in silence. Harald was a figure of authority. If he did something wrong and they reported it—would Karen believe him, or them, children with no abilities whatsoever? Their lives so far had already taught them well enough how that would go.

“Since Lady Karen has said as much—if you think I’m doing something strange, report it. In fact, I may occasionally do something strange on purpose to test your loyalty.”

“Don’t do that, Harald, you’ll only frighten them.”

“Yes, Lady Karen.”

The children blinked at how quickly he’d turned around. Perhaps it really was safe to report him after all. If anything, it looked like not reporting him might be the thing that got them in trouble.

Some children were swept up in the easing of the atmosphere. Others nearly let their guard slip, then caught themselves and pulled it back into place. Karen smiled down at the assortment of children before her, then marched Harald out with her.

Watching them go, the children arrived at one final understanding.

“Lady Karen is the most important person here.”

No one could say who said it first—but they all shared that one, most essential piece of information, and nodded together.

“…Still, she didn’t really feel like a goddess, did she?”

“Yeah, not really.”

Mark smiled and nodded at Michael’s light, laughing aside. Then a bang came from the corner of the room, and both of them jumped.

If Karen had come back to check on them again, she might not let their whispering go unpunished. Tense and bracing themselves, they looked toward the source of the noise—and found it was only the easel that had been holding the painting, toppled over.

Both of them, and all the children together, let out a breath of relief.

With the tension broken and with the sense that the future ahead might not be so bad after all, the children began to laugh softly among themselves.

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Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 322

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This chapter is the beginning of a new arc, "Season of New Beginnings" (from chapter 322 to ongoing). As of July 4, the ongoing chapter is chapter 343.

Section Eight: Season of New Beginnings

Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty-Two: Brief Greeting

“—And so, I’m Karen, the Rank B alchemist who has taken all of you in. Nice to meet you!”

“Excuse me! I have a question!”

The one who raised his hand with such enthusiasm was Michael Bell—the brother of Ottilie, the child who had been abandoned by Viscount Bell’s family for having no magical power.

At that moment, Karen was standing before the children in the annex of Earl Ehlertt’s mansion in the territorial capital. The children she had taken in all shared circumstances similar to her own. Until the manor in her Himmel territory was completed, she had been granted the use of the entire annex.

Furthermore, it was the Ehlertt family itself that was overseeing the construction of Baroness Himmel’s residence in the capital. At present, Karen was relying on the Ehlertt family for practically everything.

“What is it, Michael?”

“I heard from Teacher Harald that you are trying to raise us to become alchemists—but isn’t that impossible?”

“Michael, you’re being disrespectful toward Lady Karen.”

“But… sis… bro… sis…?”

“Goodness… when are you ever going to get used to this?”

Ottilie looked down at the blank-faced Michael, her expression like someone fighting off a headache. Every time Michael laid eyes on Ottilie in her knight’s attire, he seemed to short-circuit. Apparently, the sight of his sister dressed as a man was simply too much for him.

“Now, now, Lady Ottilie—it was a perfectly ordinary question, please don’t mind it.”

“If that is what you wish, I shall hold my tongue.”

Her tone was gentle as she said it, but her movements had the crisp, nimble quality Karen knew well from the knights of Ehlertt. Ottilie had been knighted just recently as a reward for her distinguished service at the hunting festival, and while she now served Karen as her personal knight, she apparently also took part in the training of the Ehlertt Order.

Her reason was simple—to stay together with the younger brother their parents had cast away. She had chosen to serve Karen—a woman of common birth—without a trace of contempt or bitterness.

“Now then, I imagine the rest of you have the same question as Michael, don’t you?”

When Karen asked that, every child fell silent, eyes cast downward, exchanging furtive glances. They didn’t know what Karen might do to them if they said the wrong thing—after all, she held the power of life and death over them. Their wariness was only natural.

Michael could speak up because he had his sister with him. And so Karen didn’t wait for the children to find their voices, and continued on her own:

“As you all already know, my apprentice Harald used to be just like you.”

She left the rest unsaid, but every child in the room drew a sharp breath.

“When we first met, Harald’s magical power was below F-rank—and yet he became an alchemist. Under my guidance. And not only that—he went on to produce potions that even an S-rank alchemist couldn’t make. It’s a dream worth chasing, isn’t it? And so I decided to go fishing for a second one.”

“Fish… ing?”

“In other words, I’m aiming to raise a second alchemist.”

Karen said it in a deliberately lighthearted tone—and then a second questioner spoke up.

“May I ask a question as well?”

“Of course. And you are…?”

“Mark. Lady Karen.”

A boy about the same age as Michael. A commoner, with no particular backing to speak of. Even so, Mark introduced himself in a halting but reasonably steady voice, and then asked his question:

“Why don’t you take on someone with more magical power as your apprentice? I know that Teacher Harald managed it. But wouldn’t someone with greater magical power find it easier?”

Karen’s eyes went wide, and she glanced over at Harald.

“How much have you explained to them?”

“That I originally had magical power below F-rank. That I became an alchemist after meeting you, Lady Karen. That there is a chance they could become as I am, if they follow your guidance—that is roughly all.”

Harald had apparently told them that learning from Karen might allow someone with little magical power to become an alchemist—but not the reason why.

Karen gave a nod and turned back to Mark.

“Then that’s a good question. The answer is that the materials I want you to work with are non-magical materials. My thinking is that non-magical materials are easier to handle for someone who truly understands what it means to have no magical power. That is to say—someone like all of you, with little magical power of your own.”

“…Understands?”

It was impossible to tell how much of Karen’s explanation Mark had truly understood. He repeated the word as if savoring its meaning, then lowered his head and fell silent. After that, no more questions came. The other children were far more timid than Mark, their faces nearly expressionless—it was impossible to tell what any of them was thinking. Even those who harbored dark feelings were not reckless enough to direct them at Karen. Children like Teresa were a rare exception. Most of them were simply frightened.

Karen deliberated for a moment over what to say to such children, and then spoke:

“…That said, I’m not expecting all of you to become alchemists. As Michael said—I’m well aware that would be asking too much.”

Another ripple of sharp, startled breaths passed through the room.

“More importantly… I’m so busy that I barely have any time to make my products myself! So I’d like all of you to help me with that. Honestly, that’s my main objective!”

The moment Karen said it, the tension in the room seemed to dissolve all at once, as if a collective “oh, is that all” had passed through the group. What lingered in the air was something closer to relief.

It seemed Karen had guessed correctly. In other words, most of the children there did not particularly dream of becoming alchemists. What had weighed on them far more was the fear that impossible demands might be placed on them.

I suppose that’s only natural, Karen thought to herself, suppressing a wry smile, before emphasizing her point once again:

“I’d be happy if some of you did turn out to become alchemists—but I’m not counting on it. All I need is for you to do the work. Just keep that in mind!”

If what Karen required of them was work that even children without magical power could manage, it would likely be little different from what most of them had been doing before—children in orphanages were always given various kinds of handwork, to prepare them for a working life one day.

Amid the relief—and the listless resignation that accompanied it—one child alone behaved with marked unease.

It was Michael.

“W-What am I going to do, I’ve never actually worked before!?”

Ottilie was eyeing him with a look that made plain she wanted to say something. But Michael, rattled as he was, didn’t seem to notice—though Mark, sitting beside him, caught Ottilie’s gaze first and flinched. Mark gave Michael a sharp elbow in the side, and when Michael finally registered his sister’s look, he nearly leapt out of his seat. He then launched into a frantic, flailing pantomime of begging forgiveness at her.

Not a word was spoken, and yet the sheer volume of his gestures was exhausting. Ottilie looked off into the distance.

Karen watched the whole sequence unfold and burst out laughing. Ottilie’s expressions whenever she dealt with Michael were more than expressive enough to make anyone like her.

Pretending she had not heard Michael’s rather loud muttering, Karen addressed everyone:

“You only need to get better at the work little by little.”

She had conveyed what needed conveying. For the sake of the children—still rigid with nerves, stiff as stone—Karen promptly left the room. Ottilie followed after her. Left behind were Harald, who would be supervising, and the children themselves.

As Karen’s footsteps faded into the distance, the children’s tension snapped like a thread, and the room began to stir with murmuring.

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Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 321

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Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty-One: Upstart 2

“The answer is… Eren!”

At Fiene’s answer, Karen felt the back of her eyes grow hot, and her face crumpled.

“It sounds like my name…”

“Hehe, it does.”

They didn’t say outright that they’d chosen a name to resemble Karen’s. And they hadn’t been the ones to name her, either. It was common enough to follow whatever connections one had and ask someone of standing to be the name-giver.

One could simply say they had asked a member of the Alchemists’ Guild—someone they were already connected to through business—to give the child her name. And that guild member had simply drawn inspiration from the most successful alchemist among those she oversaw.

That made it perfectly fine. It was like taking a name after a hero’s. All Karen had to do now was become someone widely recognized as an alchemist worth looking up to—a hero, even. That way, she wouldn’t betray the thin thread of connection that Natalia, Fiene, and Linus had woven for her.

—And she would build a world where this child could live, even without magical power.

“Eren. May the goddess’s blessing be upon you.”

Karen gently pressed her forehead to the baby’s and squeezed her eyes shut, holding back tears, then returned Eren to Fiene’s arms.

“Thank you for letting me hold her… I should be going.”

“Don’t forget your fresh-fried Karen-bread, still piping hot.”

“I threw in a little extra, too.”

Karen took the large paper bag of bread, left behind enough money that the whole shop could have bought out every loaf with change to spare, and stepped out of the bakery. Then she glanced over at the two women who were trying to chat up Julius as he waited under the eaves.

“He’s my fiancé, by the way. You’ll have to give up.”

“Aww.”

“Alright, off you go.”

The women backed off for the moment, but lingered nearby, watching from a careful distance. Even with Karen right there as his fiancée, they apparently weren’t ready to let Julius go.

“Julius.”

“I’m sorry, Karen. I turned them down any number of times, but—”

“Women from the lower districts don’t give up when you turn them down gently.”

A woman from the adventurers’ world, for instance, had none of the restraint of a noblewoman—she’d sooner push a man up against a wall than take no for an answer. Only something as harsh as, "Go look in a mirror, ugly," would likely offend her enough to make her leave. But Karen didn’t want to see Julius say something like that. And while revealing his noble status would send them running, she didn’t need that kind of talk spreading around either.

The old Karen would not have been able to ignore the way those women kept drifting into the corner of her vision. She would have needed the sense of superiority—a way of papering over her own unease. She would have had to flaunt her relationship with Julius, had to overwhelm them with it.

But Karen chose to ignore them. She was able to ignore them now because something had changed between her and Julius. Because she understood that there was no way those women could slip between them.

And more than anything, she had something she wanted to say to Julius right now.

“Never mind them, Julius.”

“Yes?”

“Seeing that baby made me want children of my own.”

Karen said, gazing into the distance. Far, far away—to somewhere beyond the sky.

“—So I want to change the world as soon as possible. You’ll stay with me until then, right?”

Karen said it with complete seriousness, but no answer came back.

Puzzled, she shifted her gaze from the distant sky to Julius standing beside her—and found him beet red. Not just his face, but his ears, his neck, even his hands and arms had all gone crimson.

When he noticed Karen looking at him, Julius bowed his head and covered his face with his hands.

“I-I’m sorry. I do understand that you don’t mean it in that way, but… the way you said it…”

“Hold on a moment?! I admit it could be interpreted that way, but that’s really not what I was trying to say!”

“Yes… I could hear the conversation inside the shop, so I do understand the context… I really do… it’s just…”

Julius stood there beet red and soft-eyed, trailing off helplessly—and at that, the women who’d been trying to chat him up exchanged glances and walked away, looking thoroughly put off. To them, it might have looked pathetic, but the sight of Julius like that sent Karen’s heart fluttering.

“Ugh… when you make that face, Julius, it makes me embarrassed too…!”

“You were saying something serious, and I’ve gone and—I’m sorry. Of course, I intend to follow you, Karen.”

“I’m not saying I haven’t thought about that other thing either, but!”

Karen said it, just as red as he was.

“First, we have to get married, right?”

“…We only just got engaged, and yet I already want to marry you. But wait. The way this conversation is going, it’ll sound as though I’m only after your body, which is absolutely not the case!”

“I-I know that. …Though, I wouldn’t exactly mind if there were at least a little of that…”

As Karen mumbled and fidgeted, the door of the bakery they had just left swung open.

“You two, we can hear every word in here!”

“Not really the kind of conversation you should be having out here in broad daylight, is it? Well—be happy together.”

“Waah!”

“…My apologies.”

Julius’s face was not one that anyone could easily forget after seeing it once. So Fiene and Linus would certainly have remembered him as the nobleman who had appeared at the school reunion.

But the two of them showed no trace of being guarded around Julius now—they were just laughing, warmly. It was surely because something had changed between Karen and Julius.

Eren, who had woken up at some point, was smiling too, a sweet little smile, as though she couldn’t help but follow along with her parents’ happy faces.

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Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 320

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Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty: Upstart

“—So anyway, now that I’ve made it big, everyone in this place today gets treated by me!”

Karen’s announcement drew a modest cheer from the busy lunchtime crowd inside the shop.

“Karen, that’s the thing you do at a bar… It’s not really something you do at a bakery. Oh—should I be calling you ‘Lady’ now?”

Fiene hurriedly caught herself, and Karen leaned against the counter with a laugh.

“Don’t bother, speak however you like. I’ve been telling everyone the same thing at all the places in the adventurers’ district.”

This was what successful adventurers who’d made it big often did—the classic newly-risen move. And she hadn’t done it only at this bakery. By now, Karen had already stopped in at most of her regular haunts.

“So it’s not just me—it’s everyone together, right?”

“Exactly.”

Everyone was being treated equally; being close to Karen had nothing to do with it.

“I want lots of curry bread! I won’t be able to eat it for a while!”

“Karen-bread, coming right up. I’m frying some now, so I’ll bring you a fresh batch.”

Fiene said it with a perfectly straight face, emphasizing one part of the name as she stood up.

“Wait, are you sure you should be moving around? I can go get it myself—and are you really okay watching the counter?”

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry.”

Fiene laughed off Karen’s concern and disappeared behind the counter into the back. She returned shortly carrying a tray piled high with warm, fresh-fried bread—and Linus, who was holding a baby.

“Oh! A baby!”

“Here, hold the little one for me, Karen.”

“…Can I?”

Karen had been able to come to the bakery. But she’d felt as though she shouldn’t come to see their child.

Word had reached her that the baby had been born shortly after the New Year’s Festival. Even so, Karen hadn’t sent any kind of gift or congratulations. As she hesitated, Fiene gave her a gentle smile.

“Of course you can.”

“Maybe this little one will grow up to be as successful as you someday, yeah?”

“If Karen holds the baby, maybe some of that good luck will rub off. Though honestly, becoming someone great would be nice—but if our child simply grows up healthy, that’s all we could ask for. Right, Linus?”

“Naturally!”

Held under Fiene’s steady gaze, Linus nodded several times over. Wanting their child to be held by Karen for good luck, given how far she’d risen—that was surely a perfectly natural feeling for any commoner to have. Grateful to the two of them for providing her with that excuse, Karen gently took the baby from Linus.

Although the baby had only recently been born, the tiny bundle wrapped in a blanket felt much heavier than Karen had expected. And perhaps because the baby was asleep, the little body felt wonderfully warm. The baby’s hair was reddish like Linus’, and the eyes were shut so Karen couldn’t make out their color. Even after being passed into Karen’s arms, the baby didn’t cry, only let out soft little sounds while sleeping.

Karen gazed at that sleeping face and murmured quietly:

“So cute…”

“Hehe, thank you. You’re quite good at holding a baby, Karen. You even knew to support the head.”

“You know everything, Karen, don’t you? Meanwhile, I still forget to support the little one’s head sometimes and get scolded for it… I’m really, truly sorry.”

Linus apologized under Fiene’s unwavering gaze. In the past, it had often been easygoing Fiene who got steamrolled by laid-back Linus—but it seemed things had settled into a new arrangement.

“I guess that’s ‘a mother’s strength’ for you.”

“It really is.”

“What are you two whispering about?”

Fiene herself blinked in innocent bewilderment. Karen and Linus both burst out laughing. Even with the adults talking like that, the baby slept on without stirring.

“What’s the baby’s name?”

“Try and guess. She’s a girl, by the way.”

“Guess?”

“Actually, Ms. Natalia is the one who named her.”

“Natalia named your daughter? Were you two that close?”

Of course, Karen had been friendly with Natalia back in commoner school, and with Fiene as well, so the two of them had certainly had chances to talk. But Fiene had always been a little intimidated by Natalia’s dazzling pedigree, and Natalia wasn’t the type to push her way into things either.

“The thing is, we’ve actually been delivering our bread to Ms. Natalia regularly.”

“Really?!”

“Haha, I went there myself to promote our bread to them. We already purchased recipes from the Alchemists’ Guild, so it worked out.”

Linus said it with a proud grin. Fiene looked up at him with an expression of quiet pride.

“That’s right. It’s thanks to Linus that we got to know Ms. Natalia.”

“I made a delivery today too, but… she looked completely run ragged.”

“That’s probably my fault. Things have been hectic for her.”

Karen’s circumstances had changed dramatically, and Natalia had taken on all the paperwork and arrangements that came with it. She had been working together with Ehlertt, but Natalia had been the one carrying the bulk of the work.

As for Karen herself, she had simply gone about her usual routine while packing her belongings, overwhelmed by Natalia, who had declared with bloodshot eyes, "You just focus on alchemy! This is exactly what I’m here for!”

“When I made the delivery, she was half in tears, going ‘Breeead… something I can eat with one hand…’”

“’Bread,’ huh? Maybe she’d appreciate bite-sized sandwiches next time. Put some vegetables in them too.”

“Now there’s an idea. Vegetable sandwiches, hmm.”

“Fruit might be nice too.”

Linus took notes. Apparently, Linus reported on Natalia’s situation whenever he made deliveries, and Fiene thought up ways to help ease her burden. In a way, Karen was witnessing firsthand how the three of them had grown close—and as she did, she looked down at the baby and tilted her head.

“A name that Natalia would give, hm…”

“The inspiration, she said, was the most successful alchemist she’s ever worked with.”

“…Huh?”

“It’s not the exact same name, of course. But it sounds similar, and it’s a really beautiful name.”

Karen looked up at Fiene and Linus. Both of them were looking back at her, smiling.

“No way…”

Karen stared down at the baby, mouth agape.

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Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 319

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Chapter Three Hundred and Nineteen: Visiting the Grave

“—You coming here is a rare sight.”

“Lyos.”

In the royal capital of Earthfill, Karen and Julius had a chance encounter with Lyos just as he was leaving the commoners’ communal cemetery on the outskirts of the city, and Karen’s eyes went wide.

Although Karen had become one of the lords of Ehlertt territory, her land was still largely wilderness. Helfried had offered to send people to clear the land and prepare a manor for her. Having left the children in Harald and Ottilie’s care, Karen had returned to the capital together with Julius.

To make all the necessary preparations—and to visit the grave.

At that moment, Julius pulled Karen close. Drawing her nearly all the way into an embrace from behind, he fixed Lyos with a glare. Seeing Julius openly display the hostility he had always concealed behind a smile, Lyos made a deeply uncomfortable expression.

“I would greatly appreciate it if you could refrain from looking at me that way, as I have absolutely never had that sort of relationship with that woman.”

“More importantly, Lyos, why are you at the cemetery at such an odd time?”

In this country, commoners’ grave visits were customarily held at year’s end. Of course, people visited graves on other days as well, but the period closest to what Karen remembered as Obon from her past life fell at year’s end.

“Are you really going to keep talking to me while you’re standing like that…? Well, fine. You know how the knights are dispatched to dungeons across the various territories at year’s end, don’t you? This year was especially busy—I only just finished my duties and made it back.”

Dungeons had collapsed all across the land this year. Not every territory had the knights and adventurers needed to contain those collapses on their own. So the Royal Knights had indeed been run ragged.

“I see. You must be exhausted. Lyos… you came to visit Ms. Frieda’s grave?”

“Yes. And your father’s, while I was at it.”

“What?”

“—You wouldn’t have known, but up until now, my mother had been tending your father’s grave in your place. I’m not saying this because I want your gratitude, so don’t trouble yourself over it.”

With that, Lyos promptly turned and walked away. Karen stood there, blinking, then made her way toward her father’s grave—the one she hadn’t visited in years. She had worried she might not even remember where it was. And yet she found it without much trouble at all, and despite the fact that she had not once visited since her father’s death, the grave was clean.

There were even flowers laid as an offering. A proper bouquet, the kind typically used for grave visits in this world. Everything was perfectly tidy. Preparing flowers and even cleaning the grave made Lyos seem like a remarkably responsible adult.

It was so unexpected that Lyos had done all this that Karen could only stare down at it, mouth slightly open.

She herself hadn’t even brought flowers. Julius had brought some, but still.

“…Karen?”

Julius called to her with a look of concern. Karen started, then stumbled through an explanation.

“Ah, right. Um… I’ve never actually come to visit my father’s grave before.”

“Was it too painful? If so, you could have said—we could have postponed the visit to your father. I could have come alone to—”

“No, that’s not it—it’s just…”

She couldn’t immediately find the words. As she looked up at Julius, searching for them, a loud "Oh!" rang out from behind her.

“You’re visiting a grave? That’s a rare sight, Sis!”

“Lyos said the exact same thing.”

“Yuck!”

It was Thor. He, too, had returned to the capital from Ehlertt together with Karen.

“Wow, Thor, you even brought flowers… and Lyos brought some too… Am I the only one who’s failing as a functioning adult here…”

“I brought some, so couldn’t we say it’s from both of us?”

Julius offered her that kindness, but Karen had never had any such intention, and the fact that she had been out-adulted by Lyos in the basic decency department landed like a real blow.

Thor shrugged and said to her:

“Well, you don’t think Dad’s dead, so of course you wouldn’t bring any.”

“You don’t think he’s dead? Is your father perhaps still alive?”

“No! Um, well…”

“Dad disappeared in a dungeon, and they never found his body or even any of his belongings, so Sis has always believed he might still be alive. I mean, normally everyone would conclude he died.”

“Right, right. By any normal standard, everyone’d tell you he’s dead.”

But Karen had always had a feeling her father was still alive. She was perfectly aware it might just be wishful thinking. It was simply that when the news of her father’s disappearance had reached her, believing that had been how she’d gotten through it.

And she had kept on believing ever since. But to an outside observer, what Karen was doing looked like—well.

“So this is kind of… a delusion, I guess…”

“You believe there’s a chance Dad’s alive, so don’t call it a delusion.”

Thor said that, then deliberately stepped between Karen and Julius, placed the flowers at the gravestone, and spoke:

“I said I’d be transferring my registration to Himmel Barony in Ehlertt, but before that, I’m going to clear the fortieth floor of the royal capital dungeon. Once I’ve done that, I’ll move to Himmel territory for good, so have the adventurers’ guild set up by then.”

“If you clear the fortieth floor, you’ll be almost within reach of S-rank.”

“My promotion to A-rank is still under review, though.”

“It’s only a matter of time, isn’t it? Your sister is very proud.”

“Not as proud as a brother whose sister became a landed noble, I’d think.”

“What a close pair of siblings.”

Julius muttered sulkily, having been elbowed out of the conversation by the two of them as they heaped praise on each other. Karen pressed close to Julius’s side and murmured:

“The fortieth floor… that would be the Fairy Realm.”

That territory was already too deep for Karen to gather information from adventurers she might run into in the adventurers’ district. The only knowledge she had of the fortieth floor came from the founding myths of the Kingdom of Earthfill.

The fortieth floor—the Fairy Realm. The floor said to be home to a pegasus.

“…If Dad’s still alive, the only possibility is that he somehow wandered into the Fairy Realm on the fortieth floor. If I clear the fortieth floor and still don’t find him, then you need to give up too, Sis.”

“Huh!? Are you rushing to clear it because you’re looking for Dad—!?”

“Any adventurer aims to clear the dungeon as fast as they can, don’t they? Besides, I think Dad is probably dead.”

Even so, perhaps it wasn’t entirely unrelated. Karen stared up at Thor, stunned.

“Don’t tell me… you became an adventurer for my sake? So that I could finally give up on Dad—”

Had she unknowingly led her younger brother down a dangerous path?

Thor answered her question instantly:

“No, I’ve pretty much always planned on being an adventurer since I was a kid, and I do it because dungeon-conquering is genuinely fun.”

“Because it’s fun…”

Karen couldn’t help repeating it back to him.

“Yeah, seriously—it’s great, just going around killing monsters left and right.”

“Oh. Right, yeah. Now that you mention it. Most of the guys who grew up in the adventurers’ district are pretty much like that.”

Karen felt a wave of relief as she remembered the obvious fact she’d carelessly forgotten.

“It is precisely because Karen grew up in a place like this that she has the depth of heart to have accepted someone like me. I offer my deepest gratitude to the adventurers’ district, to the father who raised her, to her brother Thor, and to everything else that shaped her. Karen and I are engaged, and we will marry in the future. Please continue to watch over us kindly, Father.”

“Dad, doesn’t this guy kind of piss you off?”

When Julius offered his prayer of gratitude to the gravestone, Thor turned to the same gravestone seeking agreement.

Karen still did not believe her father lay resting there, but it was so funny that before she knew it, she was laughing until tears ran down her face.

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