Ingrad? Is That Something You Eat? A Noble… Me?!

It had been an ordinary day.

A month and a half had already passed since I entered the imperial palace. The scar-removal salve had been completed smoothly, then shifted into a cosmetic, and had become beloved by many women inside the palace.

Knights had even begun bringing me rare ingredients, asking me to prepare medicines to improve their looks. My room was getting cluttered with gifts and goods—I wondered if I’d stockpiled too much.

The imperial princess and the Empress seemed aware I was gaining unfair benefits, yet they overlooked it because the medicine was highly useful to them. What I didn’t realize was that, elsewhere, a different force was steadily swelling.

“Damn it, where did that apothecary even drop from?!”

Marquis Doriyan, Grand Master of the Pharmacists’ Guild of the Terakan Empire, sat within the palace seething at the unknown apothecary who, without paying tribute to them, had been reaping illicit profits.

They had managed to acquire the medicine he allegedly made and tried every way to reproduce it, but it was impossible. That made Doriyan angrier.

Then Count Banasi, another noble in the council chamber—one of the guild masters based in a major city—spoke to the furious marquis.

“The medicine itself isn’t hard to compound, but the fellow clearly has some special ability. He must be keeping the true recipe to himself while releasing a false one.”

“That figures. If it were me, I’d never disclose a treasure like this. More importantly… what even is this thing?!”

Marquis Doriyan looked down at an item so potent he hesitated to take it out, even after trying it himself. Some nobles peered at it, eyes gleaming, and opened their mouths.

“Ho, isn’t that the God’s Blessing—the famed virility draught?”

“How did you obtain it? Is it genuine?”

“I hear it’s tremendously effective… Well?”

Though the nobles’ fuss annoyed Doriyan, he couldn’t hate the medicine—it was too effective. The true problem was that the blasted apothecary had made it.

“Its performance… was enough to satisfy three wives at once.”

“Ooooooh!!”

“Terrifying! To counter even the Demon God’s curse!”

“We must secure that recipe!”

The surrounding nobles knew who produced this “God’s Blessing.” But they couldn’t make a rash move—the Empress was currently shielding him.

“We lodged an official protest and received the ingredient list. Yet when we tried it, there was no effect… Do you know what the real problem is?”

“What is it?”

All the nobles leaned in. Doriyan spoke under their gaze.

‘Greedy little maggots—nobles in name, useless in deed…’

As a member of the noble faction, Doriyan often preached purging incompetent nobles, and the ones before him did not impress.

Yet, given his position, he had to continue.

“He made God’s Blessing with those listed ingredients in front of the guild apothecaries we dispatched.”

“Heh… Is that possible? Then the recipe is genuine, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. Who knows what trickery he used?”

“If our guild apothecaries failed to discern it, then they’re worthless bugs. Some of them brew top-grade potions—hardly incompetent.”

“And who says that and this aren’t separate issues?”

Each “count” sounded increasingly pathetic. Still, Doriyan had no intention of backing down; in full view of all, he said:

“First, I intend to move the moderates in the noble faction to have a title bestowed upon him as a reward.”

“A reward… a noble title? Well, he is a Free Citizen…”

“What, you would bring some rootless upstart into the nobility?”

“Indeed—he’d be a loach muddying the waters.”

To Doriyan, those counts and the cheeky apothecary were all the same, but he pressed his lips together and waited for the room to quiet.

When the moment ripened, he raised his hand and said:

“As it happens, there’s a suitable fief: Gillian Domain, at the end of the Whisky Mountains. We’ll arrange to grant it to him.”

“Gillian… Ho. That might be a neat solution.”

“If it’s that savage a territory… he’ll agree to any terms, haha.”

“Indeed. Proper and fitting. Proper!”

When it came to rotten schemes, everyone fell into line, and Doriyan had to be dragged along. Still, he wanted the true recipe for God’s Blessing badly enough to die for it, and all the nobles shared that desire.

‘Once I extract the method… I’ll see that apothecary torn apart by monsters. To think I’d be the one urging a Free Citizen to become a noble… khh.’

Doriyan fumed, but he was certain his will would be done.

A knight came to see me, the apothecary leading an ordinary life.

“Her Majesty the Empress orders you to attend, at the lowest seat, the council of nobles.”

It was abrupt. I was dragged off mid-brew, but honestly, it felt about time I left the palace.

How I longed to be free again.

It wasn’t that I hated the palace. I could hardly forget Jesia, Kaereot, and Rua, who visited me nightly.

Unlike Jesia and Kaereot, Rua had a mature, precocious air; when we were together, she was always calm, asking me to do whatever I wished.

Remembering how she accepted anything from me made me ache below again.

I worried I might grow addicted to the women of this world—but this wasn’t the time to drown in fantasies.

“A council of nobles… If they called me to where the heavy hitters are… is it a reward?”

That seemed the only plausible outcome, and I began to look forward to it. I pictured myself accepting some gold and jewels, striding out of the palace, and living large—but, in the grand hall, I realized the story was taking a very strange turn.

The spark came from a piggish-looking noble who kept glancing my way.

“Given his merits, would it not be fitting to grant Apothecary Jin-woo a noble title?”

“You must understand that not just anyone can become a noble, Duke Balsen!”

“And yet, Duke Yusillian, have you not been handing out baron and higher to your knights?”

“That is the minimum exercise of my rights as a duke. The same applies to you, Duke Balsen, does it not?!”

The two dukes’ voices thundered through the chamber.

From the sound of it, this Balsen fellow wanted to make me a noble—which I rejected. Becoming a noble would chain me to this country.

If I could become one on my own terms, I wouldn’t refuse, but this felt wrong. Especially since the Pharmacists’ Guild men who had come to “verify my recipe” before were lined up behind Balsen—if that didn’t make me uneasy, nothing would. Yusillian, for his part, sounded like he was objecting purely to object. The Empress raised her hand, and their voices died down.

“So, you value the apothecary Jin-woo’s service and wish to grant him a noble title, thus binding him to the Terakan Empire. Is that it?”

“That is correct, Your Majesty!!”

The Empress pondered Balsen’s words.

‘Duke Yusillian, now’s the time to cut in and block this!’

He only watched Balsen and the Empress in silence. Suspicious—and my unease grew.

“Then what rank would be proper?”

“He is a Free Citizen. We cannot grant a high rank at the outset. A sub-baron or baron should be fitting.”

“A baron… He erased the princess’s scars, and you would make me an ungrateful mother by giving him ‘baron,’ Duke Balsen?”

“N-no, that is not what I meant… Forgive me, Your Majesty…”

Balsen’s face betrayed that things weren’t going as planned; the guild nobles behind him didn’t look happy either.

‘Right… the Emperor and Empress have an intelligence apparatus, don’t they?’

They’d surely tracked the nobles’ maneuvering in detail. And right then, Duke Yusillian’s expression twisted into a smirk—a rotten little smile.

‘That face says, “Serves you right.” So he knew…?’

If Yusillian had foreseen Balsen’s move, his silence made sense.

It also made sense that he’d goad Balsen into speaking so the Empress could counter. She might already have decided on “nobility” as my reward.

‘Tch… all because of how valuable my medicines are…?’

Even the virility draught had spread. From the Empress’s standpoint, she might not want to let me go.

I only hoped she would be a “mother” who kept her word.

“Apothecary Jin-woo, step forward.”

My name rang out. I had no choice but to bow my head and avoid her gaze.

“Yes, Your Majesty…”

“The favor I received from you is beyond price. Therefore I intend to give you the best I can—but you may wish to refuse.”

“…Forgive my boldness, but… may I refuse?”

“If you do, my honor will be tarnished—but I will accept it with grace.”

‘Damn… she preempted even my refusal.’

I could only think I’d been had. If I raised my head and met her eyes now, I was sure I’d see a merciless smile.

But I didn’t dare. It might be called impious—a crime. I needed caution, and I had to answer at once.

“Then… I will accept whatever reward Your Majesty grants…”

It ended with something like a sigh, but the Empress ignored it and spoke.

“From this moment, a notice to all: hear and remember. First, I bestow upon Apothecary Jin-woo the rank of Viscount.”

“B-but, Your Majesty!!”

I glanced up to see Balsen gathering himself to protest—but at the Empress’s solemn glare, he shut his mouth and bowed. Disappointing.

‘What kind of damned empire is this?’

For a duke to be so cowed—I felt the Empress’s overwhelming charisma. Then she spoke again.

“I grant him the Ingrad Domain and command him to serve the imperial house.”

Silence fell over the chamber. What was this Ingrad Domain that made everyone freeze? Then, to my shock, Balsen answered brightly:

“A fitting measure, Your Majesty.”

Happy, not angry. I thought:

‘Why are you doing this to me…?’

It was pathetic that I couldn’t even voice the question.