’The text isn’t encrypted?’ Rorschach was stunned by the plain, common-tongue letters.
He finished "icing" the entire piece of Leather Armor and began to race against ti to transcribe the contents.
It soon beca clear why it wasn’t encrypted: in addition to the ssy, handwritten text, there were hand-drawn sketches, long strings of equations, and even the smudges had been preserved.
’It’s more like so kind of Magic or technique was used to imprint soone’s manuscript...’
The chaotic layout and diagrams made transcription difficult for Rorschach. He had to decipher it as he went, transcribing only select portions.
"Casting... rhythm... frequency."
The manuscript’s author posited that every spell of Magic was like a song. He likened Casting gestures to plucking "Qin Strings," causing the external Magic in the environnt to create Vibrations, playing out a lody that made the spell take effect...
Such theories were not uncommon in the works of his predecessors, so Rorschach didn’t waste paper transcribing it. He read on.
Each spell of Magic had a specific lody, and the complete lody had to be played to achieve the correct effect.
So spells of Magic had several syllables, while a certain class of Magic had only a single "note." A brilliant Mage, however, could play an entire musical movent...
Magic had Casting steps, and there were also Elental Spells, which manifested on his panel as "entries." ’Now this is getting interesting,’ Rorschach thought, and he quickened his pace reading.
Each "note" corresponded to a Vibration of Magic Power. The amplitude determined the amount of energy, while the frequency was the unique characteristic corresponding to each "note."
’In other words, each Casting step triggers a fluctuation of Magic Power at a specific frequency?’ Rorschach guessed the author was likely a Mage from the Nobility who had received a fine musical education.
’Wait a minute...’
Rorschach’s eyes widened. He read the next few lines over and over again:
"If we designed a machine or a spell of Magic, could we decipher the Casting actions for all other Magic? Unfortunately, I haven’t yet figured out how to accurately asure the fluctuation frequency..."
Just when Rorschach thought that was all, the author’s tone suddenly shifted:
"Yes, I have already invented a sophisticated instrunt to detect the occurrence of Magic Power fluctuations. In fact, even a novice Mage can perceive it to so degree.
But the instrunt has discovered a ti gap between the Magic Power’s Vibration and the manifestation of the spell’s effect! It’s a gap so minuscule our bodies cannot perceive it!"
The rest was the author’s self-congratulatory boasting, which concluded with, "The specific thod is omitted here due to space limitations..."
’Are you Fermat?’ Rorschach noticed another small block of text to the side. He strained his eyes to read it:
"What if the fluctuations of Magic Power can be amplified and nullified, just like other waves? Could we nullify the fluctuation before a Caster’s spell takes effect, thereby interrupting the Casting?
That’s nothing special. Abjuration-type Magic and Divine Arts can do the sa, though I haven’t mastered them and don’t yet understand their principles... But I have an even more brilliant idea..."
Since every Casting step causes a fluctuation of a specific frequency, could you use a wave of that sa specific frequency to cancel it out?
No, no, no... since you don’t know the specific frequency, you could just rapidly sweep through frequencies, broadcasting a nullifying wave across all channels. As long as the sweep ti is shorter than the ti it takes for the Magic to manifest, and the output power is great enough, no spell effect will be produced. Instead, you would...
Suppress and nullify all Magic.
Rorschach closed his eyes, rembering the rainy night in Andorrella.
The sll of burning grease was still fresh in his mory. What had quelled the chaotic gale invoked by the Earth Mother Goddess?
He didn’t know if it was the manuscript’s author, but Rorschach now understood that soone had succeeded. They could not only nullify Magic, but also the power of a Divine Spirit.
The text went on to describe how the author, through experintation, had obtained the frequency ranges for several Small Spells. But just as he’d stated, there were no precise results.
After Rorschach finished transcribing, the temperature rose, and the Leather Armor returned to its normal state. He cast Touch of Frost again but found that the relevant content ended there. A diagram nearby depicted a "genius machine" that "uses the Light Technique to activate a complex chanism, which then smashes an egg with the most perfect amount of force."
’A technology that can sense magical light is certainly impressive, but why is the goal to smash an egg?’
Rorschach found he couldn’t quite comprehend this genius author. The manuscript’s contents were fragnted, and the genius’s Spiritual Light appeared in flashes, like bubbles rising to the surface one by one.
’This guy was really sothing else,’ Rorschach mused as he transcribed. He wrote in Chinese characters, and for the most important section, he supplented the characters with scientific formulas from his past life.
The organized text was more logical, appended with Rorschach’s own understanding of Casting steps and Elental Spells. ’I don’t keep a diary, but if a fellow transmigrator from back ho ever gets their hands on my notes, this should be a huge help... Hmm, hopefully they’re a STEM major.’ After he finished writing, he placed the notes into his Storage Ring.
"Young Master Rorschach, dinner is ready. Should I have soone bring it up?" A knock sounded at the door. It was Singrev, calling Rorschach to eat while hiccuping from drink.
Having just finished the "docunt," Rorschach was looking to unwind. He put his Leather Armor back on and headed for the door. "No need. I’m on my way."
CREAK—the door to the room swung shut.
In the corner of the room stood a tall wardrobe. Rorschach hadn’t noticed the small gap between its top and the ceiling. From this gap, another man in black erged—no, he was a man in gray now, covered in accumulated dust. He carefully glanced at the desktop, then leapt silently and nimbly out the window.
"Well?" Outside the inn, by the wall, the whistling wind masked their conversation.
"There’s definitely sothing on the Leather Armor." The "man in gray" dusted himself off.
"How did the new guy figure it out?"
"What do I know about Magic?"
"What about the contents, then? Did you see them?"
"Young Rorschach spent a long ti looking at it, and he even copied so of it down."
"And then?"
"I recognized the letters on the Leather Armor, but I couldn’t understand what they ant. And the stuff he was copying? I couldn’t even recognize the characters!"
The other man grew impatient. "Are you illiterate? How can you not know a single thing I ask!"
"It was talking about notes, songs, and lodies. Probably just so Nobility talking about music."
"And that’s the stuff they need to smuggle into the Holy Kingdom? You might believe that, you illiterate fool, but do you think the boss will buy it?"
If Rorschach had heard them, he would have nodded in agreent. ’Academic exchanges have to be done in secret these days? What a corrupt world!’
...
For the common people of this continent, dinner was an optional al. Cultivators, on the other hand, were only permitted to drink water after sunset.
Only Mages, the Nobility, and rchants who had social engagents or business at night would ensure they had a proper dinner. The inn, however, prepared three als a day to accommodate rchant caravans arriving at all hours—though naturally, one couldn’t expect the quality to be very good.
’Is this a carbohydrate convention?’ Rorschach thought. A small slice of black bread, a bowl of milk-less oat porridge boiled into a grayish-yellow sludge, and...
THUMP. The innkeeper brought over another basin of sludge. The sound it made hitting the table spoke of its considerable weight. Stirring the red goop revealed ingredients that hadn’t fully broken down—a type of flat, pellet-like bean.
"The house special. A real local farmhouse flavor." The innkeeper had a drinker’s nose, the color of which matched his signature dish. He insistently ladled a bowl for everyone present.
Rorschach and the others cautiously tasted a small spoonful. It was sour and astringent, with an overwhelming beany flavor.
"Sumac berries! Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve had these!" Only Singrev wolfed his down, loudly praising the "delicious delicacy." The innkeeper was so pleased that he gave him a complintary mug of beer brewed at the local Monastery.
User Comments
0 comments from readers