Chapter 185: Experimentation
In the weeks that followed, Mordred adopted an almost monastic discipline. Every day, at dawn, he would go to his cell-laboratory to begin his methodical experiments. He had established a protocol of impressive scientific rigor: each trial was timed, each environmental condition noted, each result analyzed from every angle.
His data chart was enriched daily with increasingly precise information. He had developed a personal scale to measure the intensity of injected mana, based on his physical sensations and observed reactions. Each explosion was studied: direction of debris, intensity of the blast, color of emitted light, duration of instability preceding the explosion.
Some days were more fruitful than others. He sometimes managed to maintain a stable rune for a few precious seconds before it dissipated naturally – these moments represented true victories that he celebrated discreetly. Other times, explosions followed one another with discouraging regularity, covering the walls with new scars of charred stone.
Mordred gradually developed physical resistance to the blasts. His reflexes sharpened, allowing him to anticipate the warning signs of an imminent explosion. He learned to protect himself effectively, minimizing injuries while continuing his observations until the last moment.
Each evening, religiously, Livia would join him in his improvised laboratory. She brought with her fresh water to clean his wounds, improvised bandages to treat the most serious cuts, and above all her comforting presence that lightened the weight of his daily failures.
These moments of shared intimacy gradually became the highlight of their respective days. They rarely spoke of their growing feelings, but their complicity deepened naturally. Sometimes their hands would brush when Livia tended to a wound; sometimes their gazes would meet and linger longer than necessary. But neither dared to completely cross the invisible boundary that still separated them, fearing to break the fragile magic of these suspended moments.
Livia had gotten into the habit of carefully examining Mordred’s notes, sometimes proposing new perspectives or correlations he hadn’t noticed. Her outside perspective proved valuable, allowing him to step back from his growing obsession.
- "Have you noticed that your most spectacular failures always happen late in the day?" she observed one evening, leafing through his notebooks.
Mordred looked up from his calculations, intrigued.
- "Now that you mention it..." He quickly scanned his data. "You’re right. My most violent explosions occur when I’m tired."
- "Maybe fatigue affects your ability to precisely dose the mana?" Livia suggested. "Like an archer whose hand trembles after hours of training."
A week passed thus, punctuated by a routine of experiments, failures, analyses, and restarts. Mordred accumulated an impressive sum of data, but the definitive solution continued to elude him with frustrating consistency. Each approach seemed promising at first, then revealed its limits as trials progressed.