"Please lead the way," Niwla said.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest a bit more?" Uchronia asked.

"Fret not, my friend. I am well. If what you allude to is correct, then time is of the essence. Other students may already have deciphered the MOPs message."

"But Alwin. You literally had a hole shot through your wing."

Niwla raised up the wing that Uchronia had been referring to. "A hole that has been healed by none other than the Minister of Healing herself."

Uchronia bit her green lip, her leaves twitching ever so slightly. "Okay, fine. But only on one condition."

The Potted Sprout jogged toward her desk with those tiny root-like legs of hers and snatched the vial of pills that sat atop the wood surface. She sprinted back and shoved the vial of Healing Pills into his uninjured wing.

"I presume that you want me to consume a Healing Pill the moment I sense any duress occurring within my body?"

"Yes," she said.

"While I acknowledge your good intentions, Uchronia. Please remember that I, too, am in possession of Healing Pills." Niwla pointed at the vial that rested on his desk.

"I know. But the more the merrier, right?"

"Depending on the context, that statement is valid. However, when it comes to Pills, more may not necessarily be the superior option. Consuming too many Healing Pills within a short period of time may permanently reduce the body's natural healing mechanisms, causing one to be reliant on Pills for the foreseeable future."

"I'm not asking you to be a Pill addict, Alwin," Uchronia said.

"You're doing this as a means to ease your mind."

"Yes,"

"Very well. If it will help alleviate even the tiniest amount of the tremendous pressure you are experiencing, I will gladly take your share of Healing Pills."

"Thank you, Alwin. Now, let's go."

Niwla nodded. He rose from his chair and folded his wings neatly behind him. Cradled between his feathers were the pair of vials that clinked faintly as he made his way to the classroom door. Holding it open, he glanced back and said, "Uchronia, after you."

"Thanks," she said, quickly jogging after him and passing the threshold.

Before he exited the class, joining the Potted Sprout along the corridor, he turned to face Gus. The yellow Fluffpaw, after ensuring that Alwin—it was actually Niwla—was okay, scoured the classroom in search of any lingering tears that Lapis might've missed when she cleaned up the MOH's accidental mess.

"Gus, will you be alright?"

"I will as long as I can get some more of that super, yummy sauce."

"Unfortunately, I am unable to help with that cause. However, if you require other further assistance, I will be with Uchronia, aiding her in her search for the MOP's hidden message."

"Sure! Good luck!" Gus chimed, before going back to his search. He lifted desks and chairs, peering under them, but no luck had graced him.

Niwla closed the door behind him and joined Uchronia outside.

"Have you already deciphered the MOP's message?"

Uchronia shook her head. "I thought I did, but after giving it a bit more thought, I realized that I haven't gotten a grasp on the full picture. I'll see where the clues take me and hope that it's correct. I just hope it doesn't take too much time because I'm still supposed to meet up with the MOD."

"Yes, I remember him begrudgingly requesting your presence in his quarters."

"Thank you for that, Alwin. It was a hopelessly long shot with that Forge-off and Enchant-off, but you somehow managed to make the impossible possible. I swear, I'll craft you the best gear imaginable so that you'll never get hurt again."

"Thank you, Uchronia. Your enthusiasm is appreciated. Now, shall we attend to the MOP's message?"

"Yes!"

Uchronia led the way down the corridor, while Niwla paced behind her. Currently, the only value he could provide her was in the form of moral support. He had assumed the MOP's demonstration to be exactly that—a simple demonstration. While the thought of the Minister's leaving hidden clues in search of prospective students to pass on their knowledge to had crossed his mind, he had not spotted any such occurrences during the Pill Refining process.

It was frustrating.

Their path brought them through corridor after corridor of the academy, up staircases that echoed with the pitter-patter of Uchronia's root legs and down others with the clacking of his talons. The further they progressed, the rhythmic flow of other monsters dwindled until only they remained. The air grew warmer, tinged with the faintest scent of earth, until Uchronia stopped before a door made completely out of glass. It led to the greenhouse.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Niwla paused.

If the MOP had gone through the effort of obscuring the message using a combination of sight, scent, hearing, and possibly more, then the chances of the correct answer being the greenhouse were slim. Ingredients were important to refining Pills, but the MOP had explicitly said that every aspect that went into Pill Refining carried equal weight.

He looked to Uchronia. From the subtle rise and fall of her pot as she breathed, to the minute twitches in her root-legs, he could tell that she, too, was doubting the answer that she had derived.

"Uchronia," he said.

The Potted Sprout turned towards him. "I know, Alwin. But everything I observed pointed to here. Maybe it's a red herring that's actually not a red herring."

"That is a possible conclusion."

"You think so?" she said, lighting up.

"While it is a possible conclusion, I simply lack the knowledge to derive a definitive answer. The decision to enter this room is up to your discretion. However, I will offer you my full unbridled support. Though I advise that you proceed with caution."

"I know," she said. "But… Alwin, can I ask you something?"

He already knew what she wanted to ask, but for the sake of conversation, he would permit Uchornia to vocalize her question.

"Why are you so nice all of a sudden? Why are you helping me?"

"It is a simple answer, Uchronia. First, you are my friend as well as my squadmate. Second, I am curious. I did not notice any hidden message encoded within the MOP's actions. I am hoping to learn from this experience, and for that, I am helping you. I apologize if I come across as having an ulterior motive."

"Honestly, it did seem like you had one. But this is something I'm okay with. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't you up to your antics again."

"It is not."

"That's all I wanted to hear. Let's go."

Uchronia pushed open the glass door, and a wave of humid air blew over them. Rows upon rows of wooden frames housing luscious green plants nestled within brown ceramic pots greeted them.

Though Niwla did not know the names of these species, he could describe their appearances.

Towering fern-like plants that brushed against the glass ceiling, petals that bloomed in every hue of the rainbow, and flowers that blossomed into odd shapes—hearts, eyeballs, and even a chair.

From above, crystals suspended on slender poles released a soft spray of water. Through means unknown to him, they flowed unnaturally, gravitating towards plants that required an abundance of hydration while pulling away from those that required a mere few drops.

Walking down the row, the pair searched for any signs of the MOP and any additional clues that she may have left behind.

Reaching the end of the greenhouse, they merely found a wall made of glass. Even tracing the perimeter revealed nothing but glass walls. When they returned to the entrance, the silence of failure hung heavy in the air.

Uchronia sighed, "Looks like I was wrong. Sorry for wasting your time, Alwin."

"No one is always right, Uchronia. You do not need to apologize. And this has not been a waste of time. By coming to his greenhouse, I have been enriched with more knowledge. Though I lack a thorough understanding of these plant species. I have zero doubt that it will positively impact me, whether consciously or subconsciously."

Niwla moved closer to a broad-leaf plant. He shifted the vials into a single wing, using his free one to stroke the green surface. "Take the angle at which the plant's leaves droop, or even its shape. Why grow into such an orientation? It must've been for a specific reason. If I can learn from that, I might find new ways to shape Mana, even if it requires more experimentation."

"Thanks, Alwin."

Uchronia gripped the handle of the glass door, twisting the knob. There was a click.

Niwla paused.

The sound was different. It was sharper.

Something was about to happen.

"Stay alert!" Niwla shouted.

"What?" Uchronia said, turning around.

The floor opened up beneath them. Shards of glass exploded outward as the door shattered, revealing a solid wall where the path to the corridor had been. Cracks raced along the greenhouse walls, one by one, they fractured until every pane of glass collapsed, revealing even more solid walls.

Niwla shoved the vials into his beak. Using his new, powerful wings, he immediately took flight. His talons caught Uchronia's pot just in time, stopping her from falling into the abyss below.

Turning around, Niwla began to search for any clues to get out of this predicament.

The wooden frames that held the rows of plants remained, hovering despite the missing ground. Either they had been forged with this specific property or enchanted. They would be a place to rest and find out what was happening, except…

He saw the crystals. The liquid they spewed was different. Though visually similar to water, it was slightly darker and minutely more viscous.

Moving closer to those plants would be a deathtrap.

"Alwin!" Uchronia shouted from below. "Are you okay? What about your wing? The MOH said you shouldn't be flying."

A pair of Mental Hands spawned next to him, retrieving the vial of Pills from his beak. Now free to speak, he said, "My wing is sufficient. What isn't is my stamina. We require a place to land."

"What about the pots? They still seem to be floating."

"No. All the clues point to the plants being a trap."

"What clues—oh. You mean how they're rapidly growing."

Niwla looked up. The plants were indeed growing larger, slowly taking up every inch of space within the greenhouse. However, it wasn't just their size that was changing.

The leaves of the fern-looking plant grew longer, sharpening into blades that sliced through the air. Nearby, the flower shaped like a chair thickened with thorns, sprouting upon every conceivable surface—including the thorns themselves.

"What should we do?" Uchronia asked.

"All signs point to going down," Niwla said. "It is clear that whoever orchestrated this is pressuring us to head below."

"But what if it's an even worse trap?" Uchronia shouted.

"That will most likely be the case."

"And you still want to go down?"

"Based on my experience, this is either a punishment, a further trial established by the Minister, or both. Either way, it is most likely the only way to progress."

Uchronia sighed, "Okay, fine. I trust you, Alwin."

The MODOC nodded.

Slowly, they descended into the depths of the greenhouse, keeping an eye out for any would-be traps that the MOP might have placed along the way.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.