Chapter 373: Back to Cecil
Sifting through countless basic spells and raw materials to find the right combination was a tedious task—though the overall atmosphere at the Magic Technology Research Institute was pleasant, that didn’t mean the work itself was easy or enjoyable.
Korn had been running these foundational tests for weeks. Over that time, he’d experimented with nearly a hundred different magical materials, testing them against a dozen or so spell effects—including newly created composite materials formed by mixing various components. He had indeed observed some substances changing under specific types of magical stimulation—softening, hardening, expanding, contracting—but none had met the project’s strict criteria, especially the requirement that the process be reversible.
Still, he quietly persisted, meticulously recording every result.
He had grown accustomed to this monotony. In fact, he somewhat enjoyed it—much like he enjoyed precision, planning, and walking the exact same measured steps from the institute’s front gate to the lab. Back in the capital, a girl he secretly admired once described these quirks as “odd, rigid, and a little neurotic.” But Korn simply couldn’t break his habits.
As the detection runes on the magic bench dimmed, Korn cleared away the samples and carefully stored them. Then he reset the experimental environment. From a nearby sample box, he took out a thin sheet of a copper-silver alloy, clamped it onto a fixed stand at the center of the bench, and pressed the stand down to connect it with the rune circuits etched into the surface. Next, he raised a metal apparatus beside the bench—
This device resembled an arm made of several iron rods inscribed with runes, with a high-quality mana-focusing crystal fixed at its tip. Known as the “Mana Stimulator,” it was one of the most indispensable tools in the magic technology lab. By adjusting the sequence of rune triggers where the rods connected to the bench, it could link to a large rune “palette” mounted at the back of the table. This circular rune device—nicknamed the “palette”—contained a dozen or so basic magic arrays, allowing the user to easily unleash a variety of spell effects as needed.
Ordinary technicians without innate spellcasting talent relied on this device to conduct complex magical experiments.
But for a mage like Korn, who could cast spells himself, the value of the Mana Stimulator was immediately clear. Within days, he had come to love this handy invention.
To him, it was a stroke of genius—the Mana Stimulator drew power from the magic network embedded beneath the lab floor, so it never ran out of mana. It could produce nearly every kind of basic spell effect, something ordinary casters might struggle with due to their limited talent. Most importantly, it was a mechanical device with fixed structure, materials, and parameters, guaranteeing that every spell it released was perfectly consistent until it malfunctioned. For anyone engaged in magical research, the significance of such reliability was obvious.
And this brilliant creation was the work of the young woman currently standing in the center of the lab, animatedly discussing with several senior technicians. In fact, more than half of the new devices in the lab were her inventions.
Rumor had it her spellcasting level was only rank three.
Everyone here was a low-level mage—so how was she so outstanding? Could it be because her surname was “Cecil”?
Korn pushed the wandering thoughts aside and activated the Mana Stimulator.
The focusing crystal brightened swiftly. Moments later, an arc of electricity leapt from its tip, striking the alloy sheet and leaving faint marks as the crystal moved across the surface.
Korn immediately began observing the alloy’s changes, recording the results:
“Year X, Month X, Day X, Test #XX, Sample #XX: Arcane lightning applied to copper-silver alloy surface, leaving discolored indentations. The affected area developed a slight arcane affinity. Process irreversible. This property may be useful for manufacturing new high-performance magic array substrates…”
So far, none of the tests had yielded the desired outcome, but that didn’t mean they were pointless. Through these near-random trials, researchers had uncovered many new material properties—most of them from composite materials. Every discovery was carefully documented, and someday, one of these properties might prove invaluable. By now, some researchers had even made finding new material traits their primary goal, which was a strong motivator.
As a mage trained in the capital’s orthodox tradition, Korn knew that in earlier times, mages had occasionally discovered new material properties or created new composite magical materials through daily experiments. But those old studies were isolated, secretive, and fragmented. Traditional mages found these treasures in their cramped, shadowy towers and guarded them jealously, often never sharing their findings. When those mages died, their discoveries were buried with them. The idea of a large, organized team conducting systematic, large-scale tests and compiling all findings together—while someone coordinated the experimental patterns—was unimaginable to them.
That was why the efficiency here was astonishing.
After finishing this batch of data recording, Korn didn’t rest. He sealed the samples and records, handed them to a colleague nearby, and immediately prepared the next test.
But just as he clamped the next sample and aimed the Mana Stimulator’s crystal at the stand, ready to trigger the runes, a low, growing hum suddenly rose from beneath the bench. Almost instantly, the runes flickering on his table and several others around the lab dimmed.
“What’s going on? My equipment just shut down…” “Did the new crystal overload?” “Is the mana supply cut off?” “Who’s cooking noodles on the heating pad again?” “Check the inspection post—who’s near it? See if the fuse blew.”
Korn froze for a moment, then realized from the chorus of complaints that the problem wasn’t with the bench itself, but with the magic network nodes in the lab. The territory’s mana supply came in two forms: wireless mana fields from energy obelisks scattered across districts, and traditional direct connections to the magic network. The First Practical Technology Lab had an experimental high-performance magic network built into the floor, so half the benches connected directly to it.
Realizing this, Korn set down his tools and moved behind his bench. There, a hexagonal metal post about the thickness of an arm extended from the floor—the so-called “inspection post.”
One of its six silver-white faces was clearly blackened. Korn carefully touched it and immediately felt heat.
He glanced at the node position indicated by the blackened face and called out, “Node at District 6, third or fourth ring, is burnt out. The other nodes seem fine.”
“Isolate that node for now. We’ll fix it after work,” Rebecca, standing in the center of the lab, ordered. “By the way, who said someone was cooking noodles on the heating pad in the lab? Did that really happen?”
The lab fell silent…
Korn instinctively shrank his neck. He hadn’t cooked anything on the heating pad, but he had toasted bread before…
At that moment, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the inspection post’s blackened, heated face again, pulsing with arcane energy.
As the arcane energy subsided, the changes in the mithril coating on the post were slowly reversing…
One of mithril’s properties was that it absorbed arcane energy and stored mana without changing appearance. When the external arcane energy disappeared, it rapidly released the mana, heating up and changing color in the process…
The young mage from the capital fell into deep thought…
At the northern docks of Cecil’s main city, a cargo ship bearing the Cecil Merchant Guild’s emblem slowly pulled alongside the pier under the guidance of dockworkers.
The gangplank was lowered, and the captain stepped down to begin handover with the dock staff. Following him were a burly figure and a dozen or so ragged-looking immigrants.
“Looks like a group of migrants,” the dock manager said, turning to the captain. “Don’t forget to register them, or they won’t be allowed to leave the dock area.”
“These migrants aren’t my responsibility,” the captain waved a hand, pointing to the burly man. “They were brought by Leight.”
“Leight?” The dock manager suddenly recognized the man stepping off the ship—it was the territory’s pastor. But he wasn’t wearing his usual worn clerical robes; instead, he was dressed in rough, tattered burlap like the poor, so the manager hadn’t recognized him at first. Now that he had, he hurried forward. “Leight! Didn’t you just return from the Holy Spirit Plains? Why are you back so soon?”
“I’ve seen what I needed to see. Now it’s time to return where I belong,” Light Aiviken said gently, gesturing to the immigrants behind him. “These people are sufferers I helped along the way—victims persecuted by the Holy Light Church. The lord said he would accept them.”
“Church persecution… Oh, I see. I’ll arrange the registration right away.” The dock manager hadn’t expected the territory’s only pastor to return so quickly, nor that he would lead a group of persecuted people back with him. The weight of this information made him pause briefly. Then he noticed faint bloodstains on Light’s clothes. “Leight, what’s this on your clothes…?”
Light glanced down at the stubborn stains he hadn’t been able to wash out and shook his head helplessly. “Got it while reasoning with someone.”
The dock manager breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s good. I thought you’d been trying to reason with a bear again—we’re all tired of bear meat by now.”
(Recommended read: Hogwarts on a Platter — just from the title, you know it’s a wildly imaginative story. In a nutshell: if your heart is big enough, the world is full of ingredients. A lighthearted, fun, and wildly creative book. Also a friendly recommendation, and definitely not a one-time read.)
(End of chapter)