Thank you once again to the patron "Reading Without Writing" for the generous reward.
…………
This hand was usually steady and strong—it could dissect a corpse into its component parts with precision, complete spellcasting gestures of any difficulty—but now it trembled as though entirely beyond his control, even though it was merely preparing to turn a thin page.
"Preposterous! Inferior! How could such a paper possibly be published in the Briefings?!" A chilling wind swept through, and a low, hoarse voice rang out, seemingly brimming with boundless fury and loathing. "Lucian Evans? Those Elemental Will bastards who know nothing about the mysteries of life dare to question the composition of the human body? If I ever lay eyes on him, I'll teach him a lesson he won't forget."
Menchack had forgotten that the Briefings was merely a newsletter for sharing each research group's progress—it had no review process and no standards.
"No! I must conduct an experiment immediately and expose this despicable lie!" Menchack surged to his feet. The facial muscles and skin, refined from human bodies, seemed incapable of suppressing the black miasma seeping up from the bones beneath.
Similar scenes played out in nearly every research group. Larry choked on his milk and coughed so violently it shook the heavens; Timothy, who had been pushing his glasses up, shoved too hard and they ended up perched on his forehead; Ulysses sprayed a mouthful of chewed bread crumbs all over his copy of the Briefings.
However, after their initial shock, the Archanists who specialized in elemental magic finished their breakfasts with schadenfreude and went off to verify the results through experimentation. The necromancers, meanwhile, each reacted differently—some furiously tore their Briefings to shreds; others paced anxiously in circles, too afraid to conduct a magic experiment that might disprove the results; some forcibly suppressed their volatile emotions to notify the higher-ups of the Pale Hand; and some seethed with hatred, itching to teach Lucian Evans a lesson…
…………
In the Arcane Magic laboratory, a tremendous crash and the clatter of metallic objects striking the floor rang out almost simultaneously. Menchack hung frozen in midair, the red flames in his eyes dimmed to the point of nearly extinguishing, staring blankly at the scattered laboratory apparatus and the white, slightly reddish solid particles strewn across the floor. His right hand gripped a magic test tube he had crushed with his bare strength. Shards of specially treated magical glass dug into his palm, yet even this failed to elicit any response from him.
After who knows how long, Menchack finally murmured to himself: "No, no! There must be an error in my experiment. How could the Vital Force theory of the human body possibly be wrong?! This defies logic—this contradicts the countless body-transmutation spells built upon this magical theory over so many years!"
"But why was this experiment able to synthesize urea from non-living matter? There's no Vital Force fused into it!"
Menchack questioned and argued as though his mind had split in two, his voice no more than a sorrowful murmur. It took considerable effort before he finally calmed down.
After more time had passed, the flame of life in Menchack's eyes slowly revived. With a trace of lingering fear, he said: "If my Cognitive World were to collapse, my spiritual power would spiral out of control and obliterate both my body and soul… Fortunately, I'm not too much of a traditionalist, and I recalled that Mr.
"But… is the Vital Force theory of the human body truly and completely correct?"
The fact that Menchack had been assigned to this research project showed that his Archanist abilities were considerable. Once the initial shock had subsided, he unconsciously began to doubt this foundational theory of the necromantic school—and similar incidents within the Magical Council had occurred more than once before.
But the moment he doubted the Vital Force theory, Menchack felt the soul flame inside his phylactery shake violently, as though it might extinguish at any moment.
"No, no—I can't meditate for the time being. I need to stay calm." Menchack understood that this stemmed from an internal contradiction so deep that even he couldn't perceive it, and it could only be resolved through time or more compelling evidence. Whether, in the end, the Vital Force theory would triumph overwhelmingly and the contradiction would resolve itself naturally, or he would overcome himself and rebuild his Cognitive World, or he would be unable to accept it to the point where Meditation became difficult or even utterly destroyed—there was simply no way of knowing.
He didn't need to breathe, but by habit he drew a deep, shuddering breath: "If I can't overcome myself, then I'll overcome Lucian Evans! If I can't move forward, he shouldn't dream of staying alive!"
Thanks to
This cast a shadow over Lucian's heart as he discussed the effects of combining those three alchemical substances with two elves who had postponed their departure in a room adjacent to Ravendy's. The ruling star of his fate warned that danger loomed all around him.
Slipping away to the restroom to cast a divination spell with a Dawn Crystal, Lucian reached the conclusion that danger lay thick ahead—yet a clear path existed that could bypass the majority of the hardships.
"
Lucian mused over this as he returned to the living room, only to discover that Exilion and Alestine were both staring intently at the Briefings before them. Their eyes were unfocused, and their emotions seemed far from stable.
"Did something happen during the ten or so minutes I was using astrology?" Lucian ventured a greeting: "Your Highness? Your Highness?"
Exilion raised his head. His beautiful, delicate face — almost feminine — wore an even heavier expression of disgust and hatred: "Mr. Evans, you can artificially synthesize urea? You've overturned the theory of vital force in living beings?"
"You understand necromantic magic?" Lucian asked in surprise. These two elves could read arcane papers?
"Our guards received the news from the Grand Elder," Exilion replied, observing courtesy out of habit.
Alestine spoke with a bitter edge: "Whether humans, cattle, sheep, all manner of magical beasts, or even plants — all possess vitality through the gifts of nature. How could some gases and some minerals possibly synthesize living matter?"
"That depends on how you define living matter…" Only now did Lucian understand. In the worldview of certain druids, living organisms were composed entirely of living matter, bearing no connection to non-living matter. It seemed, however, that this belief was not central to how they sensed and wielded the will of nature, so no dangerous cognitive dissonance had arisen from it.
"No matter how you define it, Mr. Evans, you are an evil, irreverent devil!" Alestine huffed, her last shred of goodwill toward Lucian having transformed into the most negative sentiment imaginable.