At first, it was great.

Receiving praise and recognition, even under a false identity, from the man she admired made her feel like she was on cloud nine. The work was fun, too.

Motivated by the desire for more praise and acknowledgment, she worked even harder.

“Hmm… well done. Not bad at all. Would you like to try this next? With your skills, you should be more than capable.”

As a result, within just a few hours, Arina found herself tackling the highest level of crafting: etching mana circuits.

“Impressive! This task requires incredible focus, and you managed to follow it perfectly on your first try.”

“Th-thank you?”

It was satisfying to have her abilities recognized.

The problem was that the more capable she proved to be, the more work she ended up with.

“This is a mana circuit with a dismantling enchantment, and this one is for detection enchantments. It can detect areas obscured by barriers, even particles similar to muons.”

“Y-yes…!”

“Oh, and try this one as well. And this. Don’t forget that one too.”

“Uh…?”

By the time she regained her senses, much had changed.

“Thanks to you, we can start working on this ahead of schedule.”

The basement was now split into two distinct zones: one where Arina toiled away tirelessly on the detectors, and another where Arad leisurely prepared something entirely different.

Having completely handed off the detector crafting, Arad began humming to himself as he set up several large jars.

“No one told me why 내 맘을 내가~♪ 알 수 없는 건~♩ 어째서인지~♬.”

It was a song Arina had never heard before, likely from the Golden Age.

After finishing the setup, Arad began extracting black soil from seven jars, mixing it with mana stone powder and various other substances in precise proportions.

“What is he doing?”

Though he hummed a tune, Arad’s expression and movements were deadly serious. The stark contrast made Arina hesitate to question him, despite her growing curiosity.

Far from speaking up, she focused on crafting the detectors as quietly as possible, afraid of breaking his concentration. She even went so far as to stifle her own frustration, determined not to disturb his meticulous work.

***

"Life is full of ups and downs," they say.

The sudden convergence of the North’s life energy into the greenhouse farm had created an unexpected resource.

The greenhouse farm of High Castle, already saturated with various spirit magics and witchcraft, sat atop a land rich in mana stones. This combination had transformed the farm’s soil into something extraordinary—black soil, imbued with unique energy.

“The life energy was so abundant that all the crops in the farm died.”

While everyone else despaired at the sight of the black soil, I saw immense potential hidden within.

“Without my MAX-level alchemy and farming skills, and my Earthly knowledge, even I might have overlooked its value.”

With the time Mary had freed up for me, I wasn’t about to waste it.

I carefully set up the jars I had prepared in advance, moving with precision and focus. Each jar contained a mixture of mana stone powder, the black soil from the greenhouse farm, various weeds, liquids, and alchemy ingredients. I scooped out portions of the mixture with a ladle and poured them into a large silver pot.

Underneath the pot, a faintly glowing magic circle provided heat, functioning much like an induction stove.

“The ratio of the mix and temperature control are critical.”

This wasn’t something from the original story. Like Arad Salt, I was crafting something entirely new, which required a lot of experimentation with different mixes and temperatures.

“Surprisingly, dark-attribute mana stones are better for heating than light-attribute ones. Who would’ve thought?”

On Earth, I could have used AI to simulate all the combinations in seconds, but here in this medieval fantasy world, everything had to be done manually—one mix and one slow heat-up at a time.

The downside was the nearly infinite possibilities, each requiring painstaking trial and error.

“But this is why MAX-level skills exist.”

Luckily, with my maxed-out skills, theoretical knowledge, and Earthly insights, I could eliminate unnecessary experiments in my head.

After about twelve rounds of mixing, heating, and adjusting the formula, I finally reached a satisfying result.

“Done.”

In the silver pot lay a dark brown powder, emanating a warm and earthy aroma.

It was the otherworldly equivalent of solid ammonia.

By the time dawn began to break, Arina had also finished her task. Surrounding her were 62 completed detectors, two more than the originally planned 60.

Her neck, wrists, back, and eyes ached, and exhaustion weighed heavily on her from the lack of sleep. Yet, seeing the rows of detectors filled her with a sense of accomplishment.

“Sixty-two detectors. Not bad at all.”

“Phew, roughly a success, huh?”

Next to her, Arad had just finished whatever he had been working on, his voice breaking the silence.

Grrrrooowl...

At the same time, her stomach let out a loud growl, announcing her hunger.

“W-what exactly were you making over there?!”

Embarrassed by the noise, Arina’s face flushed as she deflected with a question, trying to steer the conversation away from her growling stomach.

She was convinced that part of the blame for her hunger lay with Arad—specifically, with the enticing aroma wafting from whatever he had been working on.

“This?”

Fortunately, Arad didn’t seem to have noticed her stomach’s betrayal. He simply smiled and held up a jar of dark brown powder.

“It’s something on par with Arad Salt.”

“What a great smell!”

The powder emitted a cozy and savory scent, filling the room.

“This world is truly a cheat. Even with the boosts from mana and mana stones, how does something meant to mimic ammonia smell this good?”

He mumbled something incomprehensible as he stared at the powder.

“Wait—on par with Arad Salt?!”

Arina barely registered his muttering. She was too shocked by what he had just said.

“That’s right. Even if we resolve this current crisis, the root problem isn’t completely solved. It’ll take at least ten years for the farms that lost their life energy to recover.”

“I was already worried about that.”

“Worried? Why would you be?”

“Uh, no, I mean… because of where I’m… uh…”

Arina faltered, realizing she had said too much. Her mind went blank.

“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” Arad said, surprisingly unfazed.

“Wait… he’s just letting it slide? Is this because of the mental magic in the necklace?”

Both remained firmly entrenched in their own misunderstandings, the gap between them as wide as ever.

“Anyway, this powder is a type of fertilizer.”

“Fertilizer? That’s… manure?!”

At the revelation, Arina furrowed her delicate brow.

“Wait… could it be?”

Her mind jumped to a horrifying conclusion, her pupils quaking with realization.

In this world, fertilizers were commonly made from human and animal waste.

“Were those jars filled with… his… waste? And I… I smelled that and felt hungry?!”

No, no! That can’t be it!

Her thoughts spiraled into chaos, a storm of shock and horror.

“Manure? It’s on a completely different level. This is a miraculous powder crafted with my alchemy and agricultural knowledge. Its effects are exceptional.”

Oblivious to Arina’s turmoil, Arad began proudly explaining the fertilizer he had just created.

“Now, what should I call it? It’s like a chemical fertilizer, but not quite—it’s got the black soil from the greenhouse farm and mana stone powder, so maybe a magical fertilizer? Or High Castle Fertilizer? Or just… Arad Fertilizer?”

He pondered, deep in thought.

“No, if I name it after myself, people might call me a narcissist. Maybe I should name it after an employee instead…”

Arad slowly turned his gaze to Arina.

“How about I name this fertilizer after you, Mary?”

“…??”

“Mary Fertilizer. The miraculous powder that will enrich the North, named in your honor.”

“…You mean… you’re naming manure after me?”

Her face, already flushed with confusion, grew even more flustered, as if struck by an emotional whirlwind.

***

Something seemed off about Mary.

“So… you’re telling me you want to name fertilizer—uh, manure—after me?” she muttered with a half-dazed expression.

“Why is she acting like this? Does she dislike having her name attached to the fertilizer?”

Her reaction didn’t seem to stem from joy or gratitude. Instead, she appeared thoroughly unsettled.

“Mary? Is there a problem? You don’t seem too thrilled about this.”

I waited patiently for her to calm down before asking.

“Well… no matter how you frame it, I just don’t think it’s appropriate to attach my name to a powder made of… you know, excrement. Especially when it’s… someone else’s.”

She finally spoke in a firm and serious tone, though her words left me confused.

“Didn’t I mention? This fertilizer contains no excrement whatsoever.”

I tilted my head, puzzled by her reaction. I must have explained it earlier, but perhaps she’d been too distracted to hear me—or maybe I had spoken too softly.

“It’s made from the black soil of the greenhouse farm, refined mana stone powder, and weeds from the Frostlands.”

“It… it is?”

Her face finally began to relax, the confusion and embarrassment slowly fading.

“For the record, this will be much harder to replicate than Arad Salt. One of the essential ingredients is black soil, which currently can only be sourced from the greenhouse farm. In other words, we’ll have a monopoly. Her Grace will be pleased since this could become a significant source of revenue.”

As my explanation continued, Mary’s face grew redder and redder. She must have realized the extent of her misunderstanding and was now overwhelmed with embarrassment.

“But still…!”

“What now? What’s the problem this time?”

Despite having the misunderstanding cleared up, Mary refused to back down. Was this a battle of pride, fueled by her earlier misstep?

“No matter how clean or innovative this fertilizer may be, to the ignorant masses, it’s all the same thing.”

“Well… you’re not wrong about that. But is that such a big deal? Isn’t Mary a fairly common name?”

“Yes! It is a big deal.”

“...Explain.”

I decided to hear her reasoning.

“The late Duchess—Her Grace Arina’s mother—was affectionately called Mary.”

“…?! Is that true?”

Mary’s words left me stunned.

“Yes! Didn’t you know?”

“This is my first time hearing it.”

“Well, I suppose that’s understandable. You’re not originally from the North.”

Her reasoning was sound—very sound.

The previous Grand Duchess, Arina’s mother, had been called Mary. I had no idea.

“The Empire erased and distorted so much of Renslet’s history that even details like this come as news to me.”

Letting out a deep sigh of relief, I turned to Mary and thanked her earnestly.

“Thank you. Truly. If you hadn’t pointed that out, it could have led to disaster.”

My gratitude was genuine. I’d narrowly avoided a massive mistake that could have resulted in charges of treason or slander. Naming manure after the monarch’s beloved mother? It would have been catastrophic.

“No, it’s fine. Really,” Mary replied, looking a little embarrassed by my thanks.

“Arina?”

As I observed her, a peculiar thought crossed my mind. Something about Mary’s demeanor seemed remarkably similar to Arina’s.

“Wait a second… Isn’t this too much of a coincidence? Even if ‘Mary’ is a nickname, the idea that the Frostlands’ Great Witch and the former Grand Duchess share the same name…”

My thoughts raced. The pieces were starting to connect, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to draw the obvious conclusion.