The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 878

Chapter 878: Observations on Herbal Potency

There were many answers to Reeve’s inquiry.

Most of them, after hours of testing and far too many recalculations, led to the same conclusion.

A leaf.

Which, frankly, felt insulting given the collective suffering of everyone present.

In theory, the answer made sense. Botanicals were botanicals. Leaves were usually part of the equation. That was normal. Sensible, even.

In practice, however, the researchers were having a very difficult time accepting it. Especially when leaves were just supposed to be a part of the required ingredients.

The room looked less like a laboratory and more like the aftermath of a scholarly breakdown.

One researcher was gripping the edge of a table with both hands, knuckles white, staring at the display as if it might blink first. Another was hunched over a chair, breathing slowly, eyes unfocused. Someone else had given up entirely and was sitting on the floor, back against a cabinet, muttering under their breath.

"Run it again," someone said hoarsely.

A different voice responded without looking up. "You know this is already the fifth time, right?"

"I know," the first snapped. "Run it again."

"We’re going to run out of leaves if we keep doing this," another researcher said, hair visibly disheveled. "We already switched equipment. Twice. And it is still the same."

Someone gestured weakly at the monitor. "If anything, the results got better."

Silence followed.

Then a chair scraped loudly as someone stood up.

"I know," the first researcher said, dragging a hand down his face. "But if we don’t run it again, are you really telling me this is the result?"

"Yes!" another burst out, finally losing patience. "That is exactly what I am saying. A leaf. Not the whole plant. Not a processed extract. One leaf is enough for a full dosage!"

The room went quiet again.

A long, defeated exhale broke the silence.

"Dammit," someone muttered. "I can’t even look at our old stock and call them botanicals anymore."

Several heads turned slowly toward him.

No one responded. But every person in the room was thinking the same thing.

Were all of DG’s medical herbs really like this?

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Short answer, yes.

Long answer... maybe.

Because in reality, there were medical herbs far more potent than that. That in truth, DG was only out there selling those that wouldn’t immediately prompt an inquisition.

Even then, anyone who had actually learned medicinal herb preparation and pill concocting techniques from the elders would know the truth.

A scruple would have been enough.

Just twenty grains in weight could already prepare a life-saving dosage.

And that was one thing Theo Belgrave knew better than any citizen of the Empire.

Not only had he been taught directly by the elders, but as someone who periodically had to prepare and consume Siren’s Breath Tonic himself, he could tell the difference immediately.

But just when he thought that such a secret wouldn’t see the light of day, an unexpected encounter would have him testing his new limits.

Only, the encounter actually started with a request for help from Ada.

__

It happened only moments before Luca finally woke up.

Ada, having confirmed that most of the others had already returned to their posts, felt a noticeable easing of tension. The immediate sense of impending doom had lifted just enough for her to breathe again.

Of course, she still worried about Luca.

But if she were being honest, out of everyone present, he was the one she trusted most to survive.

Moreover, in the worst-case scenario, if Luca couldn’t survive it, then none of them likely would.

It was an odd mindset, she knew that. But such a way of thinking was one that had allowed her to function under extreme pressure for years. Acceptance first. Panic later. Do what you can in the moment because one can only do so much anyway.

And in the moment, that meant continuing to man the minimart and the free sample booth.

When the others had come back earlier, there had been a brief hope of swapping shifts. That hope died instantly under the crushing stare of Princess Kira’s newly formed cult of knee-height worshipers, who looked as if they had just been informed of a tragedy on the level of Mr. Mittens going missing.

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