Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 326

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Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty-Six: Those Who Aspire 2

“Hey, girls, are you rookie adventurers from out of town?”

“Come with us. We’ll teach you how things are done at the Adventurers’ Guild in Ehlertt’s capital.”

“No way, that very cliché!?”

Blocked by the two male adventurers, Karen let out a delighted cry. Karen the alchemist, twenty years in this world. Having grown up known to the local adventurers from birth in the adventurers’ district, she had never once had the chance to experience this particular isekai fantasy.

“A cli… cliché? What’s that?”

The men were confused. Ottilie was confused too, for that matter.

“My apologies, Lady Karen. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with it either…”

“No, I don’t think anyone here would be…”

It was, in a sense, a cry that only Karen could understand.

“Are you mocking us?”

“Tch! We were gonna cut you some slack, but not anymore!”

The adventurers were starting to get irritated. They had taken Karen’s group for adventurers from out of town, but what sort of kindness had they even been planning to show them? The guild clerk simply muttered "no trouble inside the guild" and showed no sign of actually intervening.

Karen and Ottilie didn’t flinch in the slightest even as the adventurers—each twice their size—began to make their anger plain. Ottilie was the award winner at the hunting festival, so she might well have been stronger than they. And Karen, while she couldn’t gauge their strength exactly, felt no fear of them either.

“You’ve got guts, Karen.”

“Dragons are way scarier, honestly.”

“Well, obviously.”

While Teresa and Karen whispered to each other, one of the muscular adventurers slammed his club against the floor. Even Teresa gave a start and froze up at that. Karen shifted her position to shield Teresa.

Just what were these men planning to do to Karen, Ottilie, and Teresa—

“Hey! Don’t damage the floor!”

“But boss—some outsider’s using a local kid for who-knows-what scheme! How are we supposed to look the other way!?”

They turned out to be perfectly decent people. There was a misunderstanding, and they were being confrontational about it, but Karen felt herself relax. This was what she loved about adventurers, what made her fond of them. A lot of them were simple and straightforward people, but they didn’t blindly worship strength alone.

“What are you smiling about?”

“You think we can’t stop you!?”

“Well, the thing is—”

Just as Karen was about to calmly explain things to the advancing adventurers, a crushing wave of magical pressure—like standing before a dragon—swept through the guild. The next instant, the two adventurers in front of her were lifted off the ground.

“What do you think you’re doing to Sis, huh?”

“Oh, Thor. Wait, wait—there’s been a misunderstanding!”

Thor had both adventurers in iron claws from behind, gripping each by the back of the head, and he furrowed his brow at Karen as she tried to intervene.

“Even if there was some kind of misunderstanding, you wouldn’t do anything that deserves getting yelled at, would you? So they’re the ones at fault for jumping to conclusions, right?”

“It really isn’t that simple, so let them go! They’re good people!”

“They can be good people to everyone else all they want—if they’re rude to Sis, that’s not okay.”

“Thor!”

Thor pursed his lips and flung the still-struggling adventurers away. For all that the adventurers had arms like logs, thick with training, Thor’s arms that had sent them flying were slender by comparison. Yet the two adventurers sailed through the air in an arc that nearly grazed the ceiling, only to be caught by their fellow adventurers nearby.

Gleaming on Thor’s chest was a crimson pendant engraved with a sword and staff—the mark of an A-rank adventurer. The scarletite pendant suited Thor perfectly, especially since he wielded a war hammer forged from a scarletite alloy. Looking over, the members of Thor’s party waiting near the entrance all wore the same red pendants at their chests.

“Why were those guys picking a fight with you, Sis?”

“They were trying to stop me because they thought I was going to do something awful to this girl.”

Karen glanced at Teresa as she said it. Teresa was hunched over, trembling. She must have been overwhelmed by Thor’s pressure. The pressure itself had been milder than it was with the dragon, and it hadn’t been directed at Karen—she’d only been startled—but even Ottilie’s color looked a little off.

“There’s no way you’d do something awful to a kid, Sis.”

“Well… Again, it’s not quite that simple.”

Becoming an adventurer was Teresa’s own choice, and since talking her out of it would be pointless, Karen had agreed to support her. That was the reality of it—but setting that aside, from the outside, Karen was an adult sending a talentless, magicless child to work as an adventurer.

“I’m placing a very small amount of hope in this girl—hoping she might do something remarkable. And to put that hope to the test, I’m about to send her somewhere so dangerous that all hundred people out of a hundred would try to stop it. I intend to support her so she doesn’t die easily—but I can’t guarantee she absolutely won’t die.”

Her past-life self would have tried to talk Teresa out of the adventurer path entirely. But Karen now would not take that road. Besides, she couldn’t force Teresa to do anything. So at least help her, help her avoid death—under that pretext, Karen was, as Teresa had said, no different from using the girl as a test subject.

“I really am planning to do something awful. So it’s only natural for a decent person to try to stop me. Make sure you apologize to those two later.”

“If you say so, I guess.”

Thor sighed, accepted it, and looked down at Teresa, who was still staring at the floor.

“So this is the kid you’re planning to sponsor besides us?”

“Yep. Her name’s Teresa.”

Surprisingly, Teresa kept her eyes down and hid herself behind Karen’s back. She had bitten back at Julius without a second thought when he’d put pressure on her—was she actually afraid of Thor? He had been more intense, it was true… Karen was still analyzing that when Thor crouched down to Teresa’s eye level.

“I’m Thor. I lead the party Crimson Thunder, and as adventurers with Sis as our sponsor, I’m your senior. Good to have a fellow sponsored adventurer on board, Teresa.”

He held out his hand as he said it, and Teresa hesitantly reached out and took it. When the handshake was done, Thor walked off into the back of the guild at an easy pace. He and his party apparently had business at the Ehlertt capital’s Adventurers’ Guild.

“See you later, Ms. Karen.”

Wanda and the rest of the party trailed behind Thor. It was an area restricted to high-ranking adventurers. The guild clerks hurried to receive them.

“So that woman’s the sister of Crimson Thunder, the one who conquered the thirtieth floor—”

“His sister… you mean that one who recently became a lord!?”

At that point, Karen’s identity was obviously no secret anymore.

“You are Karen the alchemist—Master Julius’s wife!”

“Exactly!”

“You haven’t actually gotten married yet.”

Ottilie cut in with a cool correction as Karen played along, and they made their escape from the Adventurers’ Guild.

Once they were in the carriage, Karen called out to Teresa, who was being oddly quiet:

“Teresa, are you alright? Thor looks intimidating, but he’s not a scary person—”

“—I shook hands with an A-rank adventurer.”

“Hm?”

She had been shaking a moment ago, but when Teresa raised her head, her eyes were glistening.

“You’re really his sister? That’s amazing, that’s incredible, that’s unbelievable! I talked to an A-rank adventurer! That’s so cool!”

Teresa’s eyes were watery, her mouth trembling, her face red with excitement. She hadn’t been shaking with fear of Thor—she had been shaking with awe.

Karen blinked at the unexpected reaction.

“Julius is just as strong as any high-ranking adventurer, though. Don’t you think you’re treating them completely differently?”

“An adventurer and a nobleman are totally different! He conquered the thirtieth floor—an A-rank adventurer!”

For Teresa, high-ranking adventurers were something special. Karen had mentioned her connection to Thor before, but it seemed Teresa had only been half-listening to her all along.

“Fellow adventurers with the same sponsor, he said! Ehehe!”

The part about that sponsor being Karen herself seemed to have gone completely over her head, and in her excitement, she kept flailing her legs, repeatedly kicking Karen in the shin. Karen stopped Ottilie from saying something about it.

She watched with a warm smile as Teresa rejoiced with a carefree innocence she had never shown before—like a child, purely and simply happy.

The Translator’s Small Note

I previously translated that Thor’s hammer was made of orichalcum, but “scarletite” is a more accurate translation. Well, the literal translation would be “hihi’irokane,” but that sounds too Japanese.

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Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 325

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Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty-Five: Those Who Aspire

“Blech.”

After touring Karen’s secret alchemist-training orphanage, Teresa had made her way back to the garden and pretended to throw up.

“Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“I was being con-sid-er-ate? Or trying to be. Didn’t do it in front of the kids, did I?”

She was a child herself, but being among the older ones apparently meant she did have some capacity for consideration toward younger children. What made this girl remarkable was that she reserved her insolence strictly for adults who could take it.

“I think it’s a pretty comfortable environment, honestly.”

“Too comfortable. They’ll go soft.”

Teresa wrinkled her nose and spat the words out.

“If you’re planning to take care of them for the rest of their lives, fine, but if they grow up in a place like that, they won’t be able to go anywhere else.”

“Then they can stay with me for the rest of their lives.”

“Huh? You’re not their parent. What are you on about?”

“I only just got my territory, and I could use all the hands I can get. I can find work for as many people as want it.”

“Right, you’re a… lord now. Hah. No matter how many times I hear it, it sounds like sleeptalking.”

Karen had considered the possibility that seeing the children might change Teresa’s mind and looked into options for taking her in—but Teresa, it seemed, was set on the adventurer’s path after all.

“Well then, shall we head to the Adventurers’ Guild?”

Today was the day Teresa would officially register as an adventurer. And Karen was going along to register as Teresa’s sponsor.

“Lady Karen, the carriage is ready.”

“Thank you very much, Lady Ottilie.”

“Please, just Ottilie.”

When Ottilie smiled, she was beautiful—but above all, dignified. Quite different from the impression she’d made when they first met. The unsettling thing about Ottilie was how plausible it seemed that she was intentionally putting on this poised, gallant persona to make herself more appealing to Karen.

“Is that scary man not coming today?”

Teresa had been peering around like a small animal on alert—apparently looking for Julius.

“You mean Julius? He’s gone to pick someone up.”

“Pick up who?”

“One of my supporters is moving here from the royal capital with his whole family. He sent me a letter saying they’d finished packing, so Julius went to bring them here.”

Sepl had decided to move to the Ehlertt territory together with his wife Lily and their baby. Urte had chosen to stay in the capital with her husband Aaron, taking up a role as a guard at the alchemy workshop.

The alchemy workshop in the capital was set to keep running as Karen’s shop as before, and Yuluyana and Ahim were still in and out of the place regularly, so not having alchemy knowledge herself wasn’t a problem—or rather, as Urte complained in her letter, the pair were so noisy that she could never get a moment’s peace.

“A supporter—that’s one of those has-been adventurers who couldn’t cut it anymore, right? Ow!”

Karen flicked Teresa on her bare forehead for the rude remark. Teresa ended up nursing the spot for longer than Karen had expected.

“Oh—sorry. My magical power has been growing lately, and I haven’t quite gotten control of my strength. Do you want a potion?”

“…Yes.”

Karen handed the half-tearful Teresa a potion bottle, and Teresa didn’t use it—she tucked it straight into her pocket with practiced efficiency. Karen had seen it coming, so she looked the other way.

“Honestly, you’re so cheeky. One of these days, it’s going to come back to bite you.”

“I’m getting it right now.”

“That’s nowhere near enough to teach you a lesson.”

Karen bundled Teresa—who was sticking her tongue out—into the carriage, then climbed in with Ottilie, and they set off for the Adventurers’ Guild.

“Look! I brought my sponsor! So now I can officially become an adventurer, right?”

“Guess there are weirdos willing to become a guardian for someone with no magical power.”

“Sponsor, not guardian!”

“Yeah, yeah, alright…”

The man at the Adventurers’ Guild reception desk shot Karen a sharp look.

“Seriously, what kind of work do you expect a kid like this to do?”

He had the face of a hardened thug, but was a decent enough person. He didn’t think it was acceptable to let Teresa die just because she had no magical power. That was precisely why Teresa was still only a trainee.

“Ideally, I’d like her to start with something like herb-gathering, at first—”

“I’m gonna go around smashing monsters, obviously! I’m not wasting my time picking herbs!”

Teresa declared it boldly. The receptionist’s face twisted with distaste. Karen sighed and pressed the point.

“You know better than anyone that you don’t have that kind of strength, right?”

“…Tch! Shut up!”

“You have a gift for concealing your presence, so you’d be better off developing that and aiming for a style that lets you catch monsters off guard. At least in the beginning.”

“A gift for concealing my presence?”

Teresa blinked at her, and Karen tilted her head slightly.

“Did I not mention it? You have a real talent for concealing your presence, Teresa. It’s because you have no magical power.”

“Because I have no magical power…”

“If you take that talent to its limit—you can make yourself undetectable even to S-rank monsters.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

The receptionist grumbled under his breath as he went through the process of registering Teresa as an F-rank adventurer. Technically, there was no age restriction on becoming an adventurer. But the Adventurers’ Guild sometimes turned away children who were too young. A child with no backing who became an adventurer almost always died immediately.

Neither Karen nor Ottilie had intended to draw attention to themselves, so both wore cloaks with their hoods pulled up, their faces largely hidden. Even if the receptionist happened to know Karen’s face, he wouldn’t have recognized her. Which meant he almost certainly had no idea she was one of the members who had taken down the black dragon.

But Teresa knew.

“Seriously…?”

“Seriously.”

“Suuure you are!”

Theresa, who knew the truth and still couldn’t believe it, wore exactly the same expression as the receptionist, and Karen almost burst out laughing.

“Once her adventurer registration is finished, I’d like to register myself as her sponsor as well.”

“You sure you understand how the sponsor system works? It’s a system where you support a well-known adventurer in exchange for them promoting your goods. It’s not the same as donating to an orphan.”

“I understand how it works, thank you.”

“People do sponsor promising high-ranking adventurers or noble brats, but you don’t seriously think this kid’s going to make it big, do you?”

“It’s a huge gamble, but I think she has a chance.”

The receptionist looked as though he’d bitten into something sour. Beside Karen, Teresa’s expression was squirming with something halfway between embarrassed and pleased—but when she noticed Karen looking at her, she snapped her gaze back with a glare.

“What are you looking at? Huh?”

“Such rough manners.”

Karen laughed and completed the sponsor registration. The signature was simply Karen. Until she traveled to the capital in spring, secured an audience with the king, and received the formal conferral of her title, she was still a commoner on paper.

“Karen…?”

The receptionist murmured to himself. She hadn’t used the Himmel name, so she’d assumed she wouldn’t be recognized—but at the sight of Karen’s signature, the receptionist’s face took on the look of someone trying to remember something.

Just how well known was Karen in Ehlertt? Last year, she had apparently been quite the topic of conversation as the protagonist of a real-life Cinderella story, so perhaps her name alone was fairly recognizable.

Not wanting to attract attention, Karen, Ottilie, and Teresa moved to leave quickly—and found a figure stepping into their path.

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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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