thefictionvixens Chapter 92 The Truth Behind Mithril Etching and the Curse
Chapter 92 The Truth Behind Mithril Etching and the Curse
Chapter 92 The Truth Behind Mithril Etching and the Curse
Inside the Eagle's Nest, Karen lay before the alchemy table, his grey-blue eyes fixed on the sole subject on the workbench—a palm-sized, softly glowing mithril sheet. On one side of the table lay a list of test items he had designed beforehand, and on the other, his own experimental notebook, already filled with dense data and scribbles.
The tip of his wand glowed faintly, hovering steadily above the mithril plate. The tip was not still, but vibrating rapidly at an almost imperceptible pace. Each tiny tremor precisely guided a wisp of magic, like the most precise engraving knife etching an extremely small ancient rune into the mithril surface—a basic rune representing "solidity."
Sweat trickled down Karen's temples. This was the seventeenth rune he had etched that day. With each etching, the inert, silvery-white magical energy that had been slowly flowing within the mithril in his field of vision would undergo a very "violent" magical fluctuation under the high-frequency, high-intensity magical impact of the wand tip—of course, this was only visible under his observation.
"The magic flow at the rune intersection is accumulating, slightly sluggish," Karen murmured, his voice barely audible. He stared intently at the tiny, pale golden pool of magic energy at the rune junction, caused by the excessively high frequency of magic impacts. He decisively stopped outputting magic, the glow at the tip of his wand extinguishing. He quickly picked up an extremely thin mithril probe and carefully probed the rune intersection, attempting to guide and clear the stagnant magic energy.
A soft, metallic sound, like hot iron being quenched in water, rang out. The moment the probe tip touched the stagnation point, the pale golden magic exploded, transforming into several tiny arcs of electricity that dissipated into the air. On the mithril sheet, the edge of the newly etched rune...
A tiny, almost invisible burn mark appeared.
Karen put down the probe, let out a heavy breath, and rubbed his temples, which were throbbing from prolonged concentration. He quickly wrote in his notebook:
Test 17: High-Frequency Impact Etching (Rune "Sturdy"). Frequency: 17 magical pulses per second.
Result: Rune completion rate 95%, magic stagnation at the intersection of node C, failed to be channeled, resulting in microstructural stress points (micro-burn marks).
Conclusion: At the current mana output frequency, the rune structure strength decreases by approximately 8%, and the mana conduction efficiency decreases by 12%.
Karen leaned back in his chair, looking a little tired. This seemingly simple basic test required a lot of effort, but thankfully, everything was going smoothly for him so far.
"How's it going, Karen? Have you found the 'perfect rhythm' for the mithril's magical fluctuations?" Wesley's voice came from the armchair by the fireplace, tinged with a hint of teasing. He had just finished his thesis on the history of magic, about medieval goblin rebellions, and was idly directing a small pebble to circle the fireplace with his wand.
Karen pointed to the densely filled notes in the notebook: "It's almost done. It's a bit more complicated than I imagined, but progress is going smoothly."
"This looks way too complicated. If it were me, I would have given up long ago." Wesley made a face.
"That's what makes Karen so amazing—she's talented and hardworking," Fabian's gentle voice rang out as he carefully picked up a piece of moonshine moss with tweezers.
Ernesto put down the telescope lens he'd been wiping for ages, his gray eyes giving a wary look to the pile of tools and records on Karen's table: "Volume VII of *Introduction to Alchemy* mentions that mithril's 'inertness' stems from its unique internal lattice structure, like nested magical shields. Your high-frequency impact is essentially forcibly prying open these 'shields' with an awl to etch them; damage is inevitable. Perhaps you could try a more 'gentle' infiltration method? For example, pre-softening the target area with a magical field of a specific frequency?"
Karen's eyes lit up: "Magic field preprocessing? This idea is interesting! Ernesto, which page exactly?"
"Probably—towards the middle section, the chapter on magical resonance and material activation." Ernesto shrugged, picking up his glasses again. "It's just theory; actual practice is definitely another matter. I read that it says this is a technique only alchemy masters can master."
"Theory is the direction! Thanks, Ernesto!" Karen immediately stood up. For him, these technical barriers were much lower than his talent.
"It seems our stargazers can occasionally spark alchemical inspiration," Wesley chuckled.
Ernesto snorted, but a slight smile played on his lips: "I'm not like some people who only care about Quidditch and football."
Karen found the book and eagerly flipped to the relevant chapters, simultaneously analyzing the flow of mithril magic he had observed in the experiment. A prototype of a new experimental plan gradually took shape in his mind.
It was another Thursday evening, and Karen entered Professor Castor's office on time.
"Professor," Karen greeted.
Castor looked up from behind the desk, his gray eyes sweeping over Karen with his usual scrutiny. "Sit. How's the 'temperament' of the mithril coming along?" he asked directly, his fingers tapping habitually on the smooth ebony tabletop.
Karen sat down, placing his thick lab notebook and the book "Introduction to Alchemical Substrates" on the table, and turned to the latest test page. "Progress is going well, and we've even found a new research direction." He reported in detail on the newly designed magic field pretreatment approach. "I plan to try constructing a low-intensity, specific-frequency resonant magic field next week to see if we can 'soften' the local lattice structure of mithril before etching."
Reduce the intensity of the magical impact required for etching, thus minimizing internal damage.
Castor's gaze lingered for a moment on Karen's recorded data and hand-drawn diagram of the magic field, then he nodded slightly. "Indeed, the 'activation' of magical materials is the foundation of advanced alchemy. Remember, resonance frequency is key. Mithril is sluggish in responding to low-frequency magic, while high-frequency magic easily triggers lattice resonance breakage. You need to find the 'node' frequency of its own magical inertia fluctuations."
Then he picked up a quill pen and quickly circled a narrow range on the frequency axis of Karen's conception. "Start experimenting from here, narrowing the range, and increasing the precision."
"Yes, Professor!" Karen noted down the key points, now having a more precise target in mind for the next experiment.
He closed his notebook, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over Professor Castor's left hand resting on the table. The professor was wearing his usual black high-necked robe today, the cuffs neatly buttoned.
But just as he raised his hand to draw the frequency, his sleeve slipped slightly for a moment—Karen keenly noticed that the dark purple curse lines, which had been tightly covered by clothing on the inside of his left forearm, were spreading! The Eye of Truth silently opened, and Karen focused his attention on the professor's left arm. Sure enough, there were more black threads there than before.
Karen's heart sank. She checked again; it wasn't her imagination, the curse was worsening!
He forced himself to look away, took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and decided not to wait any longer, probing directly: "Professor, regarding the materials for protective gear, besides metals like mithril, I'm wondering if materials from certain magical creatures might also have potential? Like dragon hide?"
"Dragon hide?" Castor's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, his tapping fingers pausing for half a second. "Tough, with strong physical defense, and natural resistance to fire and some elemental magic. But its magic conductivity?" He shook his head slightly. "Extremely poor. Dragon magic is wild and domineering; the residual active magic contained in its remaining tissues will strongly interfere with or even annihilate the delicate protective magic flow. Of course, this also gives it extremely high magic resistance."
Karen stared intently into Professor Castor's eyes, continuing the conversation smoothly: "I understand. But Professor, I remember you mentioned before that the special condition on your left arm also stemmed from an accident during an alchemical experiment related to an ancient curse? The nature of that curse's power seemed extremely violent. I was wondering if studying how to make materials withstand or even channel such extreme magical impacts would be more helpful in understanding the limits of protection? For example, how did you—" He carefully chose his words, "control that outburst?"
The air in the office seemed to freeze for a moment, and the crackling sound of burning wood in the fireplace became exceptionally clear.
A complex emotion flickered deep within Professor Castor's grey eyes. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the cuff of his tightly clenched left sleeve, as if he could see through the fabric to the spreading curse beneath.
A few seconds passed in the suffocating silence.
Finally, Castor sighed slowly, almost imperceptibly.
"It seems you've figured something out, Karen." His voice was lower and hoarser than usual. "Yes, the curse is growing, like maggots in the bone." He raised his right hand and slowly unfastened the mithril cufflink on his left sleeve, then pulled down the sleeve of his left arm...
Roll it up little by little.
Karen held her breath.
The sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. The left arm was completely exposed.
On his skin, dark purple, cursed lines, like countless tiny, venomous snakes coiled and twisted, were branded menacingly. Where the lines passed, the skin exuded an unhealthy, ashen look, and the muscles beneath seemed to have atrophied slightly.
"It originated from a death trap left by Herpo deep in the Egyptian desert." Castor's voice was eerily calm, as if he were telling someone else's story, his gray eyes fixed on the living curse on his arm. "It started as just a trivial 'mark'..."
Lurking, like a sleeping serpent. Until—I attempted to recreate an alchemical spell recorded in Helbo's notes, an alchemical technique concerning "forced transformation of life forms," a lost art.
A flicker of pained reminiscence mixed with fervent fervor flashed in his eyes: "Just the instant the magic circle activated and the core energy poured in..."
It awoke. The power of the curse was completely detonated by the immense energy of the alchemy array, like the floodwaters of the Styx bursting its banks, flowing back into my body through the magical connections, its goal—to utterly annihilate my existence, to turn me into a part of that alchemy array.
"At that time, death was imminent." Castor's voice remained calm, but Karen seemed to sense the professor's resolute determination. "I gave up suppression, I gave up expulsion; there was no time left. In the end, I chose guidance." His right index finger slowly pointed to his left eye.
"I used all the magic I could muster, along with the torrent of curses that was about to erupt completely, and with all my will and the remaining structure of the alchemy array, I forcibly 'diverted' it." He lightly touched his left eye with his fingertip. "The target is here."
Karen's breathing almost stopped.
"The process—" Castor's lips curled into a sardonic smile, "is beyond description. It was torture, repeatedly burning the soul in hellfire. But in the end, I succeeded. The vast majority of the curse's power was forcibly compressed and imprisoned within this eye."
"The end result is that it turned into a snake-eyed gem, but for me it's a blessing in disguise. At least I didn't die directly in that curse outbreak, and it's also related to you, Karen." Professor Castor's tone became slightly sarcastic as he said this.
"Does this concern me?" Karen asked in surprise.
"Haha, rather than saying it's you, it's more accurate to say it's your talent, the 'Eye of Truth.' The organization has been researching it for a long time, and there are many imaginative ideas, including the idea of injecting magic into the eyes. I've seen these ideas before, and I never thought I would actually be able to use them and succeed." Professor Castor said with some emotion.
Professor Castor then changed the subject, touching his left eye with his right hand. "After the success, I named it 'The Eye of Hermes.' It used the power of a curse to seal another curse, fighting poison with poison. Although it successfully allowed me to escape the initial outbreak of the curse, the price was that it constantly devoured my magic and life force to maintain this precarious balance. Every time I used its power, every time I suppressed the restlessness of the curse, I accelerated this process."
He lowered his sleeves, refastened his cufflinks, and resumed his usual composed demeanor, as if the horrifying display had never happened.
"So, Karen," his grey eyes returned to Karen, with unprecedented solemnity, "you asked me how to 'control' that outburst? The answer is, in the face of true destructive power, absolute 'control' is often a pipe dream. Sometimes, what you need is 'transformation,' 'guidance,' paying a huge price to find a way out of the impossible. Isn't the essence of alchemy precisely 'understanding, decomposing, and reconstructing'? Understanding destruction, decomposing its path, and constructing a new form upon the ruins."
He pointed to Karen's alchemy notebook: "Just like your question, the magic of dragonhide is wild and untamed, and the power of the curse is even more violent and destructive. They seem like obstacles, but perhaps they themselves are the 'keys' to breaking through the material bottleneck. The key is whether you can understand their 'rage' just as you understand the inertia of mithril, and find that 'node' that can be pried open and transformed. This is more difficult than finding the perfect material, but it is also more valuable."
A long silence fell over the office, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace. The sheer volume of information sent Karen's mind racing, like a storm raging within her.
"I understand, Professor." Karen's voice was a little hoarse, but her eyes brightened unusually. "I will re-examine the dragon hide—and other 'active' materials. Understand their ferocity, look for possibilities for transformation, but you must be careful with your curse."
"I'll be careful, after all, this concerns my life and death, doesn't it?" Castor nodded slightly. "In the next batch of materials, I'll prepare a sample of treated Welsh green dragon belly scales for you. We'll start with the most basic magic shock resistance test. Remember, safety first. Even trace amounts of active residue from dragon materials can trigger unpredictable reactions."
"Yes, Professor!" Karen replied solemnly.