Chapter 80: The Essence of Magic and the Resonance of Art

For the vast majority of people in this world, the question “What is magic power?” isn’t really a question at all. They assume the answer is obvious and not worth pondering: magic power is simply magic power—one of the energies that permeate the world, a precious gift bestowed upon humanity by the gods, and a standard by which people are divided into ranks and classes.

Some priests will tell you that magic power is the authority scattered across the world after the gods fell—a residual force left behind by the divine wars recorded on the “Eternal Tablets.” The defeated gods were torn apart and fell to the earth, their bodies burning in midair; the flames and smoke were the first magic power, and the charred remains became the first magical beasts. Meanwhile, some scholarly mages argue that magic power is a bridge between the elemental realm and the physical world—a kind of “supermatter” that can be sensed and wielded but not seen. It originates from the turbulent Aether Sea and fluctuates unpredictably as the distance between the real world and the elemental plane shifts—what they call the “surge of magic power.”

But Gawain couldn’t accept either explanation. Coming from a modern world that revered science and reason, where every mystery demanded a clear, logical explanation, he believed magic power must have a more concrete, comprehensible nature—something that could be quantified with data and modeled with formulas.

Perhaps the realm of gods was beyond such analysis, but since mages could manipulate magic power through specific methods and even simplify spellcasting with formulas, magic power had to be analyzable.

From what he knew, magic power truly was “everywhere.” Every corner of the world was suffused with this invisible force. People mainly harnessed it in two ways: one, direct spellcasting, where mages used their mental energy to construct a spell model, which then drew on the ambient magic power in the air to produce magical effects; two, through devices like charging runes or magic wells that first extracted magic power, which was then used in ritual casting.

In either case, magic power was “drawn” from nature—it wasn’t something humans could create from nothing.

So Gawain once thought magic power might be a special kind of “substance,” or something carried by matter. But Rebecca’s “rune trigger” produced a sudden burst of magic power the moment it was activated, which gave him a different idea.

It resembled a phenomenon that might occur within an energy field—he boldly hypothesized.

What if magic power was an “energy field,” and the various magical effects were special fluctuations within it? The rune trigger was like an incomplete circuit within this field. When activated, the circuit closed, allowing part of the energy field to flow through it. This flow created an observable “magic fluctuation.” But since the rune trigger’s circuit was closed, the process couldn’t continue, so the magic power was only momentary.

In this way, although the original source of magic power was still nature, the instantaneous magic power in the rune trigger was “created” by human intervention, without any “drawing” from the environment. That explained why the rune trigger, despite lacking any collection or charging mechanism, still produced a small amount of magic power.

Frowning, Gawain grabbed a piece of black stone from the table—used as a paperweight—and dragged his finger across it. With the strength of a seasoned professional, he carved swirling, curved lines into the surface. Then, pressing firmly in the center, he formed the elemental symbol for wind: a gentle breeze.

A faint current of air stirred around the black stone. This inexpensive magical material, only slightly more valuable than quartz sand, began to work. Gawain felt a cool wind softly brushing his wrist.

With a casual swipe, he erased the rune, and the breeze immediately ceased.

This was the most astonishing thing about this world: such a simple symbol, etched onto a specific material, could produce such a tangible effect. Why?

If he applied his newly proposed “energy field theory,” it made sense: magic power was already abundant and constantly interacting with these natural magical materials. Normally, this interaction was calm and uneventful. But when specific patterns were carved onto the material’s surface, the balance between the “energy field” and the “active substance” shifted, changing the frequency of magic fluctuations—and thus, the phenomenon appeared.

Yet if the energy field theory was true, it couldn’t explain how various storage crystals worked: how did they store magic power? If magic power was just a planetary “field,” and magic was merely waves of a certain frequency, what form did the magic stored in these crystals take?

Gawain’s thoughts wandered, and he recalled a theory about the origin of magic. Setting aside the superstitious claims of “divine bestowal” or “dragon language origins,” there was a scholarly view that humanity’s earliest magic came from mimicking certain magical beasts. These creatures had special keratinous layers or exoskeletons, naturally inscribed with magical runes. Through an incredible evolutionary coincidence, animals with these structures gained extraordinary abilities, becoming magical beasts. Primitive humans imitated the runes on these beasts, carving them onto stone tools, giving rise to the earliest magic.

Mastering mental power to transform physical runes into spell models in the spirit world came later.

Gawain liked this theory. Though it had its assumptions, it discarded irrational explanations involving gods and dragons, instead seeking a logical origin for magic. Unfortunately, many mages disliked it, and theologians disliked it even more—it portrayed humans, the “spirits of all things,” as mere apprentices trailing behind savage monsters, which offended those who fancied themselves exceptional.

A sudden scent of fresh earth and grass drifted nearby, snapping Gawain out of his reverie. Without turning, he slapped the table: “Don’t touch my seal. It’s the only thing on this whole table worth anything.”

A hand materialized from thin air, only to be firmly smacked away by Gawain. The hand quickly withdrew, and Amber popped out of the shadows: “Ouch! Are you even human? How can your senses be this sharp?!”

Gawain rolled his eyes. “I was a legend once, even if I’ve dropped a few levels, I’m still more reliable than you—whose combat power is barely better than a goose’s. And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been eyeing this silver seal for days. Ever since the craftsmen finished carving it, you’ve had your sights on it.”

Amber grinned sheepishly. “I just had some bold ideas, didn’t actually try anything…”

“You tried twelve times, and I stopped you every time,” Gawain shot her a glare. “Now, what do you want? It’s still over an hour before mealtime, so if you’re back early, it must be important.”

Amber puffed out her cheeks. “Do you think all I do is eat?”

“Of course. You’re my three-meals-on-the-dot clock. Seeing you means food’s coming soon,” Gawain said, exasperated. “So, what’s up?”

“Tch, you’re so boring… Fine, I wanted to tell you something for a couple of days but forgot. I’ve noticed it’s become much easier to enter the Shadow Realm lately.”

Gawain had thought Amber was just killing time outside and came to tease him, but now she was serious. He blinked in surprise.

Amber frowned. “Hey, I’m serious here. Why are you frozen?”

Gawain cleared his throat, suppressing the urge to think, “I never expected you to do something serious.” He then fixed her with a solemn look. “I remember when you first took me into the Shadow Realm, you said it was your first time going that deep…”

“Actually, I fibbed a little… I didn’t want to sound too impressive,” Amber stuck out her tongue. “I’ve been fully into the Shadow Realm more than once. But honestly, it used to be really hard to get in. You needed long meditation, or rituals and incense, or at least to chug half a bottle of shadow potion…”

Gawain raised an eyebrow. Half a bottle?! You’d be dead drunk!

Amid his astonishment, he realized something: Amber was probably telling the truth. That meant the barrier between the Shadow Realm and the real world was weakening.

To be honest, basing such a sweeping theory on the word of a shameless half-elf was a bit unreliable. Normally, such matters would require a team of experts studying for months or years to reach a conclusion. But then again… Gawain doubted that even a team of scholars could match Amber’s reckless intuition.

It was like asking ten thousand psychologists why your wife was angry—none would be as effective as just glancing at her shopping cart. Expertise had its limits.

He nodded seriously. “So you think the Shadow Realm is gradually ‘drawing closer’ to the real world? Besides your own senses, do you think the scholars studying the Shadow Realm have noticed?”

“To be honest, I think this ‘drawing closer’ is still in its infancy. Only someone like me can sense it clearly. The scholars aren’t all useless, so the real masters probably detect some clues, but none as directly as I do.”

Gawain frowned. He didn’t know if this was good or bad news. No one had ever measured the “distance” or “barrier” between the Shadow Realm and the real world, nor understood how it changed. It was possible the Shadow Realm had approached the real world multiple times in history without anyone noticing—and without any consequences.

Rubbing his temples, he asked Amber, “What do you think would happen if the Shadow Realm and the real world actually touched?”

“How should I know… but probably nothing good,” Amber rolled her eyes. “Shadow magic is mostly destructive, and shadow itself is a very negative force. Normal people definitely shouldn’t come into contact with it.”

Gawain sighed. “Well, that’s not very helpful. Why did you come all this way to tell me? I’m not a scholar, nor a specialist in shadow magic. And even if I wrote to the scholars of the Arcane Society as Gawain Cecil, they probably wouldn’t take me seriously…”

“Then I don’t care,” Amber pouted. “I just wanted to tell someone. Now that I have, I feel better. What you do next is your business.”

Gawain’s forehead twitched with a vein throbbing.

Just as he was hesitating over whether to give this guy a good beating, a sudden explosion inside the tent made both of them jump.

“Boom!”

Amber immediately dove under the table. “Ah! What’s going on? What’s going on!?”

Gawain didn’t bother with this cowardly guy. Instead, he strode out of the tent and looked toward the source of the noise.

He saw a bunch of startled soldiers rushing toward the southeast corner of the camp—that was exactly where Hetty’s magic lab was!

Oh man, the whole place blew up—Rebecca really moves fast.

Without a second thought, Gawain sprinted in that direction.

Even though the lab had its own protective wards and Hetty’s defensive magic, and Gawain had already reminded her to be careful with the experiments, no one should be seriously hurt. But hearing that explosion, who knew how much of the delicate equipment inside had survived?

He had to get there before Hetty started tearing Rebecca apart…

(Oh wow, I actually managed to update another chapter!)

(The End)