PS: I'll take it easy today and make up one of the owed chapters mid-week so the update schedule doesn't keep getting thrown off. Sorry, sorry. At least the weekend's almost here — I'll try to get my schedule sorted and build up some buffer drafts so I won't keep ending up in this kind of bind. rs
"Teacher, you can't derive a formula from the experimental data?" Lucian asked cautiously, feigning ignorance, just as he had done many times before when Fernando posed questions to him. He had to make deliberate mistakes to conceal the truth that he "knew too much," otherwise Fernando would absolutely work backward from the answer and ask, "Why did you think of it that way?" or "What is the basis for that answer?" — and that would easily give the game away.
Fernando paced restlessly around the study: "No — from the perspective of wave-like behavior and the equipartition of Crookes energy, combined with the experimental data, I semi-empirically derived a formula that works perfectly for long wavelengths. But for short wavelengths it produces a foolish error — an intolerable error! Can you imagine that when the wavelength becomes short enough, an object could emit practically infinite energy? If that were truly possible, the Pope would have knelt down and kissed the tip of my shoe long ago!"
Every object above absolute zero could emit thermal radiation — the most obvious examples being the sun, flames, and other incandescent light sources. In the Council's long-established understanding, thermal radiation was essentially the emission of electromagnetic waves at various wavelengths, with the proportion of shorter wavelengths increasing as temperature rose. Within the visible spectrum, this manifested as different colors: a pure flame, as temperature increased, would progress through dark red, deep red, reddish-orange, orange-yellow… all the way to blue-white, following the trend of progressively shorter dominant wavelengths through the rainbow.
Hearing Fernando's low growl and sensing his agitation, the cool phrase "ultraviolet catastrophe" surfaced unbidden in Lucian's mind — and remarkably, this was the formula that had appeared first.
"Teacher, perhaps there's something you haven't considered. May I see the formula you derived?" Lucian didn't dare say anything reckless, turning his gaze to the white sheet of paper on the desk.
Fernando roared: "I've been thinking about this all night long! From this angle, I haven't overlooked anything!"
Seeing that he only roared but didn't stop him, Lucian picked up the white sheet with some curiosity and saw the formula scrawled on it like a child's doodle. Then he mentally transformed the symbols.
Compared to the formula in his memory — it was exactly the same!
Seeing Lucian freeze in place, Fernando assumed he was checking the calculation and waved his hand in annoyance: "Don't bother verifying — the long-wavelength side is fine. The short-wavelength side is stupidly wrong." In his impatient, irritable state, he even berated himself.
It would have been fine if he hadn't mentioned it — but now that he had, Lucian instinctively verified the formula once more. The long-wavelength region really was remarkably close, and the short-wavelength region had to be called nothing short of a disaster.
Lucian paced in silence for a long time, and just as he had begun deriving another formula in his head, Fernando let out a soft sigh: "Read the letters for now. We'll redo the experiment later to make sure the data is correct."
"Yes, teacher." Lucian pulled his attention back, picked up the first letter, and was struck to see it was again from the "Arcane Emperor" Douglas.
"…Combining the experimental data you provided me, I approached it from the angle that thermal radiation is not electromagnetic waves but rather molecular emission due to heating, and obtained an empirical formula…"
At this, Fernando interrupted Lucian, sneering: "Even when discussing thermal radiation, he never forgets to push his particle theory."
"A different perspective may reveal more problems — at the very least, one shouldn't confine one's thinking to electromagnetic waves alone," Lucian said diplomatically.
Fernando curled his lip: "I suppose only he could set aside the universally accepted understanding of thermal radiation without being sidetracked — he never acknowledged it anyway. All right, Lucian, read on. Let's see what formula 'Mr. Ten-Thousand-Questions' has come up with."
Mr. Ten-Thousand-Questions? Lucian found the nickname both odd and apt, but he didn't dare casually ask questions when Fernando was in this mood. A little tense, he continued reading — if this formula turned out to be the same as the other one in his memory, then the earth-shattering conclusion wouldn't be far off.
"…The above is the formula I derived, but it only applies to the short-wavelength range and shows a clear contradiction with the curve in the long-wavelength range…"
Lucian read this passage almost mechanically. It really was the same!
Perhaps the data is wrong? The closer he got to the answer, the more Lucian's tension and composure intertwined — he refused to believe it without reservation.
"Applicable to the short wavelengths? A formula applicable to the short wavelengths, derived from the molecular perspective?" Fernando stared at the long-wavelength formula he had derived on his desk, murmuring to himself in slight bewilderment. An indescribably uncanny feeling surged within him.
His confusion didn't affect Lucian. Leveraging his greatly strengthened soul, Lucian calculated and derived the formulas in his mind, working from both angles and deriving each formula separately.
As he derived, his heart beat faster and faster — thud-thud-thud, thud-thud-thud. Was the fog shrouding the truth of the world finally about to lift, revealing even a single corner? Would that constant be the same?
He didn't know how much time passed. By the time Lucian had completed the empirical formula from the molecular perspective, Fernando had recovered his composure and said with some urgency: "Write a reply to Douglas. Attach my derived formula, point out the problems and the range of applicability, and see what he thinks. Oh, and write letters to Brooke, Hathaway, Oliver, Helen, and Vincent as well — attach both my formula and Douglas's."
Lucian paused his thinking, slowed his racing heart, then pointed at the second letter on the desk: "Teacher, there's a letter here from Lord Brooke."
"Open it and read," Fernando ordered tersely, not so agitated that he forgot about guiding Lucian.
Lucian opened the letter and read at a moderate pace: "…Combining the experimental data you provided, I derived an empirical formula from the angles of wave-like behavior and energy equipartition. But it's unexpectedly laughable — it only fits the short-wavelength range, and once you get to short wavelengths, it's like a disaster…"
The formula Brooke had obtained was identical to Fernando's.
The Storm Dominator Fernando said nothing for a long time. After quite a while, he spoke in a heavy tone: "Write the letters as I just instructed. I need to think about this carefully."
With that, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and sank into quiet contemplation.
Lucian finished drafting the replies, handed them to the mithril golem for processing, and then also fell into deep thought, continuing to derive the other formula.
Time ticked by second by second, and Lucian obtained the formula from the energy-equipartition angle — completely identical to Fernando's and Brooke's.
"What does this mean…" Lucian's mouth went dry, his heart pounding wildly, filled with the tension and unease of someone on the verge of uncovering the answer.
He fought to maintain focus and calm, then began using mathematical methods to stitch the two formulas together so that it would exhibit the properties of Fernando and Brooke's formula in the long-wavelength range but degenerate into Douglas's formula in the short-wavelength range.
As he worked, the surroundings seemed to grow utterly silent, suffused with an oppressive atmosphere — as if demons and devils were roaring and tempting him at his ear, making his head spin in waves.
His dark eyes turned deep and cold. Lucian was completely focused, undisturbed by anything.
The formula slowly took shape.
……
*Arcane* journal headquarters.
Drummond pushed open the office door, pointed his cane at the sofa, and said to the lady beside him: "Isabella, ladies first."
Isabella wore a light, airy pale-green dress with beautiful lace and ruffles at the collar, waist, and cuffs. On her head was a very becoming wide-brimmed hat, trailing a vivid purple satin ribbon from the back, with tassels hanging all around that swayed gently in the breeze.
She removed the wide-brimmed hat and handed it to her disciple Rachel, then smiled faintly, her beautiful face radiant with genuine gratitude, her blue eyes sincere: "Drummond, thank you so much for handling this matter."
"I merely gave it a nudge in the right direction. The real credit goes to the lords above who had the idea in the first place." Drummond pointed upward with a smile. "And your research absolutely merits the Laurel — you've earned it."
Isabella was a quintessential Holm beauty — black hair, blue eyes, dignified and reserved, with delicate features. She shook her head: "Only truly undeniable results make wizards stop arguing. How many people in the past have come within a hair's breadth of the Laurel, falling short by just that little bit? Without your help, I might well have become one of them."
"Don't doubt your own work. Your paper caused an enormous sensation at Council headquarters. Regardless of whether they specialize in illusion magic or which camp they belong to, the vast majority of mages had to admit — this is a tremendous step forward. Integrating illusion magic into the Arcane system is a tremendous step forward!" Drummond was visibly emotional. He was a dyed-in-the-wool Council loyalist, a staunch Archanist who loathed the various independent organizations, and above all despised the Wizard's Home — those wizards tied to ancient traditions who refused to integrate into the Arcane framework.
……
More than twenty floors above the *Arcane* journal headquarters, Lucian's stitched formula was taking its final shape. The familiar form gave Lucian an almost suffocating sensation.
He paused for a full several minutes before, in the profound silence where even the wind flowing through the ventilation shafts seemed frozen in place, he began plugging in the data to compute.
Nervousness, anticipation, and unease caused Lucian to experience faint auditory hallucinations — in the utter stillness around him, it seemed as if terrifying enemies lurked in every shadow.
"Stop! Stop right now!" The abyssal demon roared at his ear, waving its arms as if to tear Lucian apart.
"Cease your calculations, and I shall grant you the throne that rules the world, the scepter of glory, and everything your heart desires!" The infernal devil seemed equally panicked, tempting Lucian with all the power at its disposal.
"Child, come here quickly — this is a mother's embrace, the embrace of the true God who created all things. You shall know eternal peace and happiness!" The holy angel gazed at Lucian with compassion.
Lucian "paid no heed," focusing intently on deriving that constant in his mind.
……
*Arcane* journal headquarters.
Drummond stood by the window, looking down at the ant-like pedestrians and buildings below, and said to Isabella with high spirits: "This is another great victory for Arcane Magic, and you will be inscribed in the annals of magical history. Once this issue of *Arcane* is published, your contributions to the field of illusion magic will be sung throughout the entire magical world."
"This is a wonderful age of Arcane Magic," Isabella said with heartfelt warmth.
……
"Maggots — feeble, wretched humans! I will kill you and rip out your innards! I can smell the glorious scent of blood!"
"Anyone who ignores the devil shall be punished by fate!"
"Blasphemer, wellspring of the world's evil — if you do not stop, you will fall into Hell and suffer endless torment!"
The demons and angels seemed to grow frantic, resorting to direct threats.
The calculation stalled at its final step. After a brief pause, Lucian overcame the complex emotions churning within him, clenched his teeth, and pressed forward without hesitation, smashing through the barrier.
The devils, demons, and angels let out shrill, feeble screams — like ice and snow melting under sunlight.
That constant appeared in Lucian's mind. The familiar number was so alien, so terrifying!
It was the same as on Earth?
It was the same as on Earth!
Every hallucination shattered. The angels and devils pleaded before vanishing utterly, and the world returned to normal.
But in Lucian's eyes, everything was different now!
(To be continued…)