Chapter 51 : Chapter 51
Chapter 51: Attention
Inside the crystal, there was a flocculent, cloud-like structure—the sediment of untamed primal Mana.
“I looked over your design draft.” Professor Horne handed the crystal to him, his voice low. “You can tighten the turning angle of the third circuit by another three degrees. The Mana inertia will be a little smaller.”
Ryan took the crystal. Its surface was cool, and within it, a faint light seemed to be flowing slowly.
“Thank you, Professor.”
Professor Horne nodded and turned his attention to the next student.
Back at his workstation, Ryan fixed the crystal into the clamp. He adjusted the magnifying stand to the proper height, and through the lens, the flocculent structure inside the crystal became clearly visible—like smoke frozen beneath a layer of ice.
He opened the second tier of his tool case and took out his set of miniature engraving needles. Their tips were no thicker than a strand of hair. Only extremely high precision could carve a qualified rune onto the crystal’s surface.
The classroom gradually fell quiet, leaving only the soft scraping of engraving blades across metal and crystal, occasionally mixed with the hiss of a torch being lit and the tiny pops of Mana-conducting wire being fused.
Ryan bent over, his gaze passing through the magnifying lens. Every pattern on the crystal’s surface was magnified into a maze of intersecting ravines. He steadied his breathing, slowed his heartbeat, and then lowered the needle.
The instant the tip touched the crystal, he felt a slight resistance. He applied steady pressure and slowly guided it along the auxiliary line. A groove finer than a strand of hair extended across the crystal’s surface, its edges smooth and its depth perfectly even.
Sweat seeped down from his temples.
He paused and wiped it away with his sleeve. The fabric brushed across his skin, taking away the dampness and leaving behind a faint prickling sensation.
Thunder rumbled outside.
The sound was muffled, as though it were rolling in from very far away. The sky darkened again, and the light of the magic lamps seemed even brighter.
“Damn it!”
A low curse came from the other side of the room. Fischer suddenly straightened up. A wisp of blue smoke rose from the surface of the crystal in his hand. The luster within it rapidly dimmed, and the flocculent structure turned cloudy.
“It overloaded again?” the tall boy beside him leaned over for a glance. “I told you not to rush into increasing the output power—”
“Shut up!” Fischer threw the ruined crystal into the trash bin. It struck the metal wall of the bin with a loud clang.
Professor Horne raised his head and glanced in that direction. He said nothing, then lowered his head again and continued examining a half-finished circuit another student was engraving.
Ryan bent over his work once more. The needle tip touched the crystal again and continued forward along the intended path. This time he engraved even more slowly, so slowly that he could scarcely feel the needle moving at all. Only through the magnifying lens could he see the groove extending millimeter by millimeter.
The thunder drew nearer.
Raindrops began tapping against the windows. At first they were only scattered pattering sounds, but they quickly merged into a single sheet, like countless tiny hammers striking the glass. Trails of water wound down across the panes, slicing apart the view beyond.
Someone in the classroom lit an additional desk lamp. Pools of warm yellow light spread across each work area, forming isolated islands against the dim gray background of the rainstorm.
Ryan finished engraving the last turning point and stopped. He straightened up, and his neck gave a faint crack.
The rune array on the crystal’s surface was complete. Six main circuits, twelve branch circuits, and three redundant nodes that he had added himself. A pale blue light flowed slowly through the engraved grooves like blood moving through veins.
He attached the testing conduction wire.
The crystal lit up.
The glow was soft and steady for the span of ten breaths. Then it began to pulse rhythmically between brightness and dimness—exactly the pulse mode he had designed.
Five minutes passed quickly.
The light showed no sign of fading or fluctuating.
Ryan disconnected it. The light within the crystal gradually dimmed until it returned to that half-transparent pale blue. The engraved grooves on its surface gleamed faintly beneath the magic lamps.
The rain grew heavier. Water streamed down the window glass like a waterfall, and the training grounds and the forest outside were reduced to nothing but vague blocks of color.
The dismissal bell rang through the rain, sounding strangely distant.
Professor Horne clapped his hands once.
“Take your assignments back and finish refining them. Next week I want to see a full performance test report. Now clean up your tools and clear your workstations.”
The students began to move. Torches were extinguished, vises reset, and scrap swept into the trash. The sounds of metal and glass colliding mixed with the rain, forming a strange sort of symphony.
Ryan returned each tool to its case one by one. Every piece was wiped clean and placed back in its fixed position. He checked the tip of each engraving needle three times under the light, making sure there was not the slightest trace of wear or residue.
At last, he packed away the crystal itself, wrapped it in a soft cloth, and placed it into the inner compartment of his bag.
Only he and Professor Horne remained in the classroom. The old man stood at the lectern organizing his toolbox, returning each scattered tool to its proper place. He moved without haste. Every item had a fixed position.
“Professor, I’ll be going now.”
Professor Horne looked up and pushed his glasses higher on his nose.
“Velt.”
Ryan stopped at the door.
“The registration form for the selection tournament.” The old man pulled a sheet of paper from beneath the lectern. “Tomorrow is the deadline. If you intend to participate, fill it out tonight and hand it in to the academic affairs office.”
The form was printed on pale yellow paper, with the academy crest along its border.
The first line read: “Application for Registration — Whispering Forest Combat Selection Tournament.”
Ryan accepted the form. The paper was so light that it barely seemed to weigh anything in his hand.
“Thank you, Professor.”
Professor Horne nodded and lowered his head again, returning to the task of organizing his tools.
Ryan walked out of the classroom and pulled the door shut behind him. The hinge gave a faint creak, followed by a quiet click as it closed.
The corridor was empty.
All the windows were shut, and the rain was muffled behind them, sounding distant and heavy. A magic lamp was fixed to the wall every ten paces, casting pale halos of light that cut the floor into one bright patch after another.
He walked down the corridor toward the stairwell. His canvas shoulder bag swayed at his side, and the tools and crystal inside knocked softly against one another in time with his steps.
When he reached the corner of the second floor, he heard footsteps rising from below.
They were not the usual uneven footsteps of students, but two steady sets of steps, one before the other—the first light and soft, the second slightly heavier, yet perfectly matched in rhythm.
Ryan stopped at the bend in the stairs.
Cecilia Ishtar came up from the next floor below. The white-gold hem of her skirt brushed lightly across the steps, and the folds rose and fell with her movements. In her hand she carried a thick hardcover book. Its dark brown leather cover was worn, and the gilt on the spine had already faded.
Ilis followed behind her. The black-haired girl carried several rolled-up blueprints in her arms. The edges of the papers were visible, showing delicate mechanical structures and rune annotations.
They stopped on the stair landing.
Cecilia looked up, her blue eyes settling on Ryan. The dim light of the rainy day filtered through the stairwell window, casting blurred shadows across her face.
“Student Velt,” she said calmly.
Ryan inclined his head. “Your Highness.”
The princess’s gaze fell to the registration form in his hand and lingered there for about half a second. Then she shifted slightly to the side, making room for him to pass.
“Please.”