When I returned to my room and read through the journal article, I finally understood why Professor Radvisin warned me not to attempt this alone.
What exactly had happened to that old man who was in his eighties at the time?
It seems that he forcibly exhausted all his Aether and struggled to squeeze out every last bit of strength, which led to the awakening of his Second Aether.
“This method is just asking to die if you try it alone.”
The case study described how the elderly man barely survived thanks to the awakening of his Second Aether.
Even then, he was bedridden for a long time due to aftereffects.
In other words, if he had failed to awaken his Second Aether, he would have died.
That’s why, in case I fail to manifest the Sky-Blue Aether, there absolutely must be someone nearby ready to administer emergency aid immediately.
And if I succeed, measures must be taken right away to prevent any lingering aftereffects.
A cold sweat ran down my spine.
I had thought Professor Radvisin postponed the experiment until tomorrow simply to give me time to study the journal, but perhaps it was because he needed time to prepare for potential accidents, and the experiment couldn’t proceed right away.
“Don’t get too anxious. Surely the professor wouldn’t just let a student die on his watch.”
I muttered this as I fiddled with a worn corner of the journal.
If something did go wrong, I was confident I could hang onto life, which must be why Professor Radvisin lent me this journal.
Otherwise, he would have kept this information from me, not wanting me to pester him for help.
Besides, even if one overexerts their Aether beyond the limit, as long as treatment is administered within the golden hour, the chances of living with permanent aftereffects or dying are slim in this world’s rules.
In the original story, the protagonist fainted from Aether exhaustion two or three times but always recovered fine.
‘Of course, if the person passes out and no one is around, death is inevitable…!’
In my case, Professor Radvisin will be right beside me watching over everything. So, there should be no problems at all.
I calmed my worries and flipped the page.
But immediately, the next passage made me frown.
“To properly harness this latent Aether, it seems one must repeatedly push themselves into a state of Aether exhaustion on purpose.”
The elderly man in the case study had witnessed the energy of his Second Aether firsthand—it was clearly a different color from his original Aether.
However, once his original Aether had recovered, he was no longer able to draw upon that power.
Thus, he began training alongside the scholar who documented the case, experimenting and practicing to be able to use the Second Aether at any time.
That too was detailed in the journal.
It wasn’t some grand or revolutionary method—just a simple, brute-force way of repeatedly using the Second Aether in a state of exhaustion until becoming accustomed to its power.
A very simple and frankly crude approach.
Yet, it worked.
At first, the man had to completely drain his original Aether before he could access the latent power.
But as the repetitions increased, he was able to use the Second Aether even while leaving some of his original Aether remaining.
By gradually increasing the amount of remaining Aether, the research seemed to progress smoothly—until it was abruptly halted.
The training method wasn’t the problem.
The issue was the research subject’s advanced age.
His aged body couldn’t endure repeated Aether depletion.
No matter how quickly treatment was applied, the old man’s body, with its diminished recovery ability, eventually became overloaded.
Although he reached a level where repeated exhaustion wasn’t necessary anymore, the sheer difficulty the old man had in consuming large amounts of Aether forced the research to stop.
“Still, fortunately, this body I’m possessing is a late teenager with excellent recovery abilities, so I should be able to handle it just fine.”
I closed the journal and chuckled bitterly.
The method described here was one I had thought of myself before.
The trope of latent power awakening after completely draining one’s energy is a common cliché.
The problem was never having anyone to administer emergency care.
Although House Austri has a resident Head Physician, if I were to try this method without any solid proof, they’d undoubtedly try to talk me out of it.
And then report to Hard that their son had come up with a new suicide method.
“So this precedent existed right under my nose, and I never even thought to bring it up?”
I was dumbfounded.
Despite belonging to a ducal family, they hadn’t cared to discover their child’s latent abilities, treating him only as a defective product.
“Maybe the father of this vessel knew about the existence of the Second Aether but chose to pretend he didn’t? What do you think, Familiar?”
I tapped the Familiar Egg resting on my desk with my index finger and spoke aloud.
“Among the scholars who remember this journal, surely at least one has visited a ducal house… If so, they might have been rewarded as the family’s benefactor. Perhaps Hard, proud of the family’s unique Aether trait, refused to allow a direct descendant to use a different color of Aether, which is why it was rejected?”
Pure speculation, of course.
But even if that’s true, I don’t want to give up on my Second Aether ability.
The Buff Trait is only a supplemental power.
To overcome various crises alone, I need additional abilities.
The next day.
When I returned the journal to the lab, Professor Radvisin took it and said:
“Today, we’ll only confirm whether Karvald Austri truly possesses the Sky-Blue Aether. We’ll explore the trait further once you reach the point where you can use it without becoming exhausted. You understand why, even without me explaining?”
“Yes. Because pushing myself too hard could damage my body.”
“Exactly. Your answer is excellent—not only did you say ‘yes,’ but you also added your own thoughts. Students should think that way. That way, if you make an incorrect inference, I, as the professor, can correct you.”
When writing a novel, protagonists often come to conclusions through narration alone.
But whenever possible, it’s better to express it through dialogue, as conversations are easier to read and remember than narration.
So, after I spoke, Professor Radvisin even clapped his hands and praised me:
“You already show the makings of a scholar!”
“Indeed!”
Whether he was signaling something or not, senior students Blida and Elska chimed in with exaggerated encouragement.
I’d noticed yesterday that those two seemed to have no talent for acting.
Their supervising professor must have realized this as well, as he pinched his forehead with a despairing ‘thud!’ sound.
“…Anyway, since today we’re only drawing out your Aether, we could conduct the experiment here in the lab right now if we use the crystal sphere that absorbs Aether.”
“So you have an even better method in mind?”
“Very clever! You truly are a student I’ve singled out as a research prodigy.”
It’s best not to respond to such flattery.
I just gave an awkward smile without saying a word.
Professor Radvisin, catching on, returned to the original topic.
“Do you have any other plans besides meeting me today?”
“No, none.”
“Rather than waste Aether meaninglessly, how about we combine the trait enhancement training and proper exhaustion?”
In other words, he was offering me one-on-one private lessons.
I wondered if this was fair, but since it posed no problem, I gratefully accepted.
“If you’re willing to help me with training, I would be very thankful.”
“Karvald Austri, you’re quite polite! Shall we move to the training room, then?”
For some reason, it felt like praise followed everything I said.
Maybe it was because I blushed shyly when Professor Radvisin praised me yesterday?
Does he think I’m weak to compliments?
I honestly don’t find indiscriminate flattery very moving.
I just hope Professor Radvisin realizes that sooner rather than later.
“To fully deplete your Aether using your Buff ability, you’ll need someone to receive the buff. Blida and Elska will assist you.”
As the professor opened the lab door and spoke, the two senior students followed us, each clutching a bundle of snacks they’d bought yesterday.
Professor Radvisin briefly looked puzzled at his students’ state, but said nothing and turned away.
The place he led us to was the practical lecture room where the ‘Aether Trait Enhancement’ classes were held.
Like the individual training hall, this room is equipped with shock absorption features, but that wasn’t the only reason Professor Radvisin chose it for training and experimentation.
The layout of the room is like an indoor mist chamber.
Unlike the outdoor shared mist chambers, this indoor space offers privacy with no onlookers,
and at the same time, provides a wide area ideal for observing the effects of buffs.
“Before applying the buff, we need to check your base physical ability, so Blida and Elska, please run around the lecture room until you’re exhausted.”
“…What??”
“No, Professor?! You didn’t say anything about this!”
The two seniors were shocked and protested strongly at the unexpected order to run endlessly.
But no matter how much they protested, they couldn’t out-argue the professor who had dedicated years to scholarship.
In the end, they started jogging with reluctant expressions, and Professor Radvisin started a stopwatch to time their speed.
“May I ask a question about the report you submitted in class?”
Once the senior students were far enough away, Professor Radvisin lowered his voice and spoke quietly.
“Yes, of course.”
“I found your view that even those born with Aether vary slightly in their abilities depending on personality very intriguing. Since the Imperial Family and the Four Great Ducal Houses inherit the same Aether for generations, you can accumulate such data.”
Aether traits are hereditary, but only the Imperial Family and the Four Great Ducal Houses maintain their Aether traits consistently across generations.
Usually, a person inherits Aether from either their father or mother, sometimes from grandparents,
and occasionally even from much earlier ancestors.
Even within the Imperial Family and the Four Great Houses, the Aether is maintained only along the direct bloodline—collateral branches manifest different Aether.
Scholars in this world speculate that this might be related to Familiars, but I personally think it’s just a convenient setting by the author to emphasize the traditions of the Imperial Family and the Ducal Houses.
‘Yet this setting works conveniently in my favor, doesn’t it?’
Despite being a seasoned researcher on Aether traits, Professor Radvisin showed no doubt toward a theory proposed by a teenage boy, and instead appeared to trust it quite deeply.