Chapter Forty-Three: News Heard

After carefully putting away the decree of commendation and the medal, Patrick picked up the sealed envelope from the Royal Arcane Academy. It bore the signature of Master Selverwell, authorizing a special reward to honor Patrick's achievements in battle.

Opening the envelope with its magical runes, he found two volumes of six-circle arcane tomes.

Patrick was pleasantly surprised; this reward meant far more to him than gold coins, especially since it contained the six-circle metamagic techniques he so desperately needed.

The School of Transmutation: Energy Dissolution.
The School of Conjuration: Spell Sequence.

Judging by their contents, these were advanced six-circle metamagic techniques. “Energy Dissolution” combined three major spell rings connected by 343 arcane circuits, with 112 minor arcane nodes at the center. Once activated, the ring would generate an area of annihilating energy, erasing and dismantling the target locked by the caster.

“Spell Sequence” from the School of Conjuration was even more complex. It combined five major spell rings, connected by 742 arcane circuits, with 65 major nodes and 247 minor ones. The multitude of intricate rings and the vast number of mana-infused arcane nodes placed extremely demanding requirements on both the caster’s magical and mental strength.

However, the “Spell Sequence” spell ring allowed the combination of multiple spells into a composite magic, arranging them within an arcane matrix that manifested three-dimensionally within the sequence.

Delighted with these new metamagic techniques, Patrick immediately instructed Quelrintis to procure materials—arcane dust, spell essence, and mana fragments—for his spell ring engraving experiments.

Patrick focused his mind, channeling vast amounts of magical energy. Threads of mental power, tinged with pale blue arcane light, wove together around him as a new spell ring slowly formed, circling him. Magical energy surged as he continued to infuse, sustain, and stabilize the ring, his mind meticulously inscribing nodes and circuits.

He was barely halfway through the spell’s engraving when a glaring crack appeared on the ring. It widened, accompanied by a sharp “crack—snap!” The ring shattered around him, and all magical effect vanished in an instant.

Patrick was drenched in sweat, his face flushed red. Gasping, he leaned against the wall, catching his breath. When all the magical energy had dissipated, only fragments of nodes and mana remained scattered on the floor.

“What went wrong? I followed the instructions in the arcane tome exactly, step by step. Why did the spell ring shatter?”

[Your procedure was correct; the problem lies in your mana control. You were so focused on inscribing the arcane circuits and nodes that you neglected to manage your mana distribution. Although your overall mana output did not fluctuate, some areas of the spell ring grew increasingly thin in arcane energy, making the structure fragile. When the ring could no longer withstand the strain, it naturally cracked and broke apart.] Lady Ellen promptly narrated, offering an explanation for the ring’s destruction.

“How can I avoid this? If I split my attention between arcane engraving and mana control, I can’t properly inscribe the circuits.” Patrick lamented. Whenever he devoted himself to drawing the ring, his focus inevitably wavered, making it hard to avoid lapses.

[There’s no easy solution. Perhaps you can try perfecting the arcane shaping of the ring first, rather than simply maintaining it with mana output. Once the ring is evenly formed, use mental restraint and force-field construction to keep it stable. That should help ensure the ring’s stability.]

Even Ellen, Saint of the Moon, could not guarantee a perfect solution. Such lapses of focus were hard to avoid—just as a person deeply absorbed in something might temporarily forget their pain, only to notice an injury later.

If maintaining the ring required adding both mental restraint and force-field construction—two advanced magics—the expenditure of mana and mental energy would increase by at least forty percent, making the burden much heavier.

Patrick uncorked a potion and drank it down, easing his taut nerves.

Once more, he gathered his arcane power. A new spell ring began to form around him. This time, Patrick did not rush; he focused on restraint, over and over, ensuring the ring’s stability before proceeding step by step with the engraving.

Failure—he cleaned up and tried again.

Another failure—he searched for the cause and continued.

On and on.

Patrick could no longer remember how many times he had depleted his magic. His mind was so exhausted he nearly collapsed into sleep. Through countless hardships, he carved ring after ring, witnessed them shatter again and again, gradually gaining skill, slowly mastering the process, making incremental progress. At last, he managed to inscribe his first spell ring.

The arcane ring, brimming with circuits and nodes, circled around him, forming a powerful energy field. The arcane significance contained within the ring flowed into Patrick’s mind.

The fruit of knowledge is delicious, filled with profound mysteries that Patrick absorbed with rapt attention, utterly engrossed.

When Patrick finally emerged from the laboratory, his face was covered with stubble and his hair stood wild like Einstein’s. Only a fellow spellcaster could sense how his spirit had grown more vigorous and his magical aura more intense.

He made his way to the library and deposited his newly gathered materials, making them available for Ionis, Quelrintis, and the others to study. Gazing at the library’s meager collection, Patrick sighed—the road ahead was still a long one.

By chance, his eyes landed on a nearly new book bearing the name Tyresta. Since the elven woman had taken up residence at Sunlight Sanctuary, she had spent her days in the library or conducting magical experiments. Like Ionis and Quelrintis, Tyresta contributed her own hand-copied spellbooks and arcane tomes.

Tyresta was rather reserved, but she studied arcane lore with great dedication. Patrick understood her situation well; as a triple-discipline mage, Tyresta needed far more accumulation than an ordinary spellcaster. At present her abilities were modest, and it would not be until after the Sunwell War that she reached the rank of Archmage. By the reckoning of high elves, that was a remarkable achievement.

Returning to his office on the fifth floor, Patrick brewed himself a cup of tea and asked Yanida to prepare a light snack. He decided to grant himself a half-day’s rest that afternoon.

...

The late autumn sunlight spilled warmly over him. Outside, off-duty rangers were still holding their party; many were deep in their cups, making the most of this rare chance to relax.

“This time, I’ve come back to find a few companions for an adventure.” An elf raised his glass and took a long drink, the scent of alcohol wafting in the air. “In the barren lands to the south, we’ve discovered a magnificent ruin. From the dwarves, we’ve learned it’s an ancient Titan relic, and surely there’s Titan treasure hidden within.”