Chapter 171. Wrath Is Closing In on You
Several researchers froze on the spot.
Logaris strode over to the laboratory bench. “If magical detection fails, then use the most primitive thods of alchemy and physics to analyze it. Heat it, condense it, distill it, centrifuge it... try every stupid brute-force thod you can think of!”
His gaze swept across the group of young people who had been stunned speechless by his scolding, and his tone allowed no argunt. “Don’t look at like you’ve seen a ghost. There are no shortcuts on the road of science, only endless trial and error. I’m giving you one month. Hand a report on its basic material composition. If you can’t do it, then report to the Logistics Departnt and scrub test tubes.”
The researchers flushed red, but not one of them dared to argue. They lowered their heads, not out of sha, but because a road they had thought completely blocked had suddenly opened before them.
Satisfied, Logaris left the partitioned lab and strolled at an unhurried pace to a relatively quiet corner on the western side of the hall, where he stopped.
There sat a girl in a white laboratory robe, frowning bitterly at a book as thick as a brick titled Foundations of Magitech Circuits. It was Lucia, the one they had recruited earlier.
The forr cleric of the Holy Church, now the acting head of the Theological Branch of the Magitech Academy—though at present she was its entire staff by herself—was obviously going through the most painful transition period of her life. Her desk was piled high with collections of Logaris’s old papers and teaching materials.
Logaris walked over and rapped his knuckles against her desk.
Lucia sprang up like a startled rabbit. When she looked up and saw that it was him, her face turned instantly crimson. “P-Professor Logaris!”
“Sit down.” Logaris glanced at the chaotic array diagrams sketched all over her draft paper. “What part are you stuck on?”
“I... I don’t understand.” Lucia pointed at a basic divine spell conversion model in the book, her voice thick with confusion. “Holy Light is a miracle born from faith. It works because true devotion brings a response. But your book says every form of energy conversion has to follow a strict input-output ratio... how can those two possibly be compatible?”
“Who said they weren’t compatible?” Logaris let out a snort. “Think of ‘faith’ as a special kind of ntal frequency. Think of ‘God’ as a super signal relay station covering the entire continent. A believer’s prayer is just a paid connection, and a divine spell is simply an application downloaded through it. Doesn’t it make a lot more sense when you think of it that way?”
That blasphemous analogy made Lucia knit her brows, but at the sa ti... it sohow sounded strangely reasonable.
“But... but to build a machine that can stably output Holy Light, you’d need an extrely deep understanding of both theology and magitech. I...” Lucia’s voice faltered with discouragent.
“Missing a technical consultant?” Logaris thought for a mont, then suddenly said, “How about I write to Saintess Aurora and ask whether she’d be interested in coming to the Northern Territory as a visiting advisor?”
“What?!” Lucia’s voice shot up an octave. She waved her hands frantically. “N-No! Absolutely not! Professor, my theories would be considered the greatest heresy in the Holy Church! If Her Highness the Saintess ever found out, she... she’d have tied to a stake and burned!”
“Not necessarily.” A strange, amused light entered Logaris’s eyes.
He rembered that a few years ago, in the academy library, he had once accidentally overheard the still-young Sylvia and Aurora discussing certain topics in a secluded corner.
The degree of taboo in that conversation had been so high that even compared to his own papers, it had gone beyond them.
At that thought, Logaris looked at the frightened Lucia before him, and a aningful smile curved at the corner of his lips.
“Don’t worry. Our Saintess is nowhere near as devout as you think.”
At that very mont, a burst of harsh tal-scraping sounds ca from not far away, cutting off the conversation. Logaris turned and walked to a long table in the other corner.
Four or five male students were gathered there. There were no internal combustion engine parts on the table. Instead, several dismantled rifles had been laid out there—the sa Thunder Mark I rifles Logaris had produced before.
One boy, whose hair was as ssy as a bird’s nest, was gripping a file and frantically grinding away at a wooden rifle stock.
“What are you doing?”
The boy jumped in fright, and the file in his hand nearly stabbed into his own palm. He looked up and saw that it was Logaris.
“Professor! We’re researching rifle stock’s... uh... that...”
“Ergonomic improvents,” one of his sharper-looking companions hurriedly cut in. “We found that the recoil on this rifle is too strong. New recruits can easily dislocate a shoulder using it. So we wanted to adjust the curve of the stock and add a shock-absorbing soft pad.”
Logaris arched a brow, picked up the half-modified stock, and braced it against his shoulder for a test.
It was true enough. The original rigid design had not exactly been kind to the human body. Still, he had not expected these boys to notice that.
“What material are you using for the soft pad?”
“Uh... it’s a compound made from sli gel and rubber,” the bird’s-nest-haired boy said cautiously. “The cost is very low. We caught a few wild slis in the back hills...”
“Not a bad idea.”
Logaris tossed the stock back onto the table, pulled out a checkbook from his coat, and swiftly wrote down a string of numbers.
“Go collect the money from Aaron. I’m approving this project. Its na will be the Individual Weapon Comfort Optimization Plan. Also, go catch a few more slis. If there aren’t enough, buy so.”
The boys held the check with trembling hands, staring at one another as if they could not believe it was real.
Logaris paid them no further attention.
This was exactly the effect he wanted. These students had lively minds. Give them a little incentive, and they could co up with countless unexpected ideas.
After confirming that everything was proceeding according to plan, Logaris finally stepped out into the courtyard.
He let out a long breath and leaned against the cold wall.
At last, this whole ss had been straightened out. The food problem had a solution, the rifles were ready, and the technical foundation had also been built. As long as no major disaster broke out next, even if they simply kept their heads down and developed quietly, they could still turn the Northern Territory into an impregnable fortress.
But he still felt vaguely uneasy.
Everything had fallen into place. It had gone too smoothly. So smoothly that the string deep in his heart labeled “unexpected trouble” had remained taut the entire ti.
Logaris slipped a hand into his coat and felt the old leather-bound book there.
The Book of Prophecy.
This thing has been getting less and less proper lately. A few days ago, it had even pushed him to gossip about “a certain countess in the royal capital cheating on her husband with a coachman,” to the point that he had nearly begun to suspect it was so kind of scandal sheet.
“Let’s see what entertainnt you’ve got for today.”
Using the faint starlight, Logaris opened the cover.
The pages turned on their own without any wind, rustling softly.
What appeared on them was still the sa sort of trivial predictions from the past few days—things like what day it would snow, or when Sylvia would be in a bad mood.
He was just about to close the book out of habit when, all at once, the previously blank page seed to split open under an invisible blade. Lines of dark red strokes seeped into existence, carrying the wet, sticky stench of fresh blood.
The handwriting was hasty and wild, filled with a frenzy that made the heart pound. And this ti there was none of the usual flood of nonsense—only a single short line.
【Wrath Is Closing In on You.】
Logaris’s fingers suddenly stiffened.
Wrath?
What was that supposed to an? An adjective? Or a codena?
Before he could think it through, another line of smaller text slowly appeared beneath the blood-red words, as though it were a malicious supplentary note.
【Prepare to et Your Destiny.】
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