Chapter 33: The S-Rank Patent Controversy 2

Kent sat cross-legged on a cushion laid across the floor of the sitting room.

There was no single fixed posture for meditation. Different mages used different methods—some sat, some lay down, and others adopted whatever position suited them best. The only real requirement was to calm the mind and enter a meditative state as quickly as possible.

In Kent’s hand was a fifth-rank earth-attribute magical core.

Normally, a mage had to use mental power to draw elemental energy out of a magical core. Kent, however, had discovered that the energy could enter his body directly through the point in the center of his palm, without consuming any mental strength at all.

Even so, he didn’t dare meditate at full capacity.

If he absorbed elemental energy too quickly, it would disturb the surrounding magical elements. Any nearby mage would immediately notice the abnormal fluctuations and might realize that Kent was capable of absorbing virtually all the energy contained within a magical core.

So, on the surface, Kent continued using his mental power to draw in fire-element energy just like an ordinary mage.

That, however, was only a tiny fraction of what he was actually absorbing.

The real torrent came from the fifth-rank earth core in his palm.

Wave after wave of dense earth-element energy poured through his hand and surged into his mind, continuously feeding the silvery point of light within.

Kent could clearly sense that the silver light was growing.

The change was incredibly subtle, but there was no mistaking it.

Two hours later, Kent opened his eyes and looked down at his empty hand.

The fifth-rank earth magical core had been completely drained.

“Damn. One more fifth-rank core should be enough for me to advance.”

Kent sighed.

“This really is burning money.”

At his current rate of consumption, cultivation itself was almost absurdly simple. As long as he had enough magical cores, advancement would hardly be a problem at all.

The real problem was money.

After thinking it over for quite some time, Kent decided that his main focus should be alchemy.

As for magic, he would concentrate primarily on mastering first-rank spells.

A spell’s power depended not only on the spell itself, but also on the strength of the mage casting it. A Wind Blade cast by Kent as a first-rank mage might only be the size of a palm. The exact same spell, when cast by a ninth-rank mage, could become a terrifying blade of wind dozens of meters wide.

Kent had also done the math.

If he insisted on mastering every spell of every rank before advancing, he would probably spend his entire life doing nothing but practicing incantations.

It had taken him nearly a month just to become proficient with the basic Fireball spell.

If a second-rank spell took two months, then what about third-rank spells? Fourth-rank spells?

And Kent possessed affinities with all twelve elements.

The higher the rank, the longer and more complicated the incantations became. Legendary forbidden spells were said to require nearly twenty minutes of chanting.

Twenty minutes!

In a real battle, that was absurdly long.

Kent remembered an old saying from Earth:

Master one move, and it can carry you anywhere.

He didn’t need to learn everything.

If he could master the first-rank spells of all twelve elements, his combat ability would already be far more versatile than that of most mages.

More importantly, he still needed to study alchemy.

Alchemy was an incredibly deep and complicated field, and Kent was fascinated by it. If he devoted all his time and energy to magic, his development as an alchemist would inevitably stagnate.

Of course, he would still selectively learn large-scale offensive spells when necessary.

Kent also possessed another enormous advantage.

He had no natural elemental weakness.

A fire mage might struggle against certain metal-element techniques. A wind mage might face the same problem. But Kent could simply switch attributes.

If fire and wind didn’t work, he could suddenly attack with darkness.

Or ice.

Or something else entirely.

Anyone trying to kill him would have to prepare for an opponent whose fighting style could change without warning.

That unpredictability alone could be deadly.

Then another thought suddenly entered Kent’s mind.

“Hm? I wonder if compression would work...”

He remembered the idea of compressed energy attacks from novels he had read back on Earth.

From a physical standpoint, compression should increase energy density.

Take a fireball the size of a fist.

If he could compress it down to the size of a fingertip, even without considering anything else, its temperature and destructive power should rise dramatically.

“Worth a try.”

Kent steadied his breathing and calmed himself.

A fireball instantly appeared above his palm.

He wrapped it tightly in mental power.

Then, little by little, he increased the pressure.

Kent’s first impression was that the fireball behaved like an inflated rubber ball.

No matter how tightly he wrapped it with his mental power or how much pressure he applied, the fireball refused to shrink. He tried several different methods, increasing the force again and again, but its size remained completely unchanged.

Eventually, Kent slowly dispersed the fireball and frowned deeply.

Since he had failed to compress it, there seemed to be only one reasonable explanation—his mental power simply wasn’t strong enough yet.

Thinking about it that way, Kent realized he had probably been too impatient.

He was only a first-rank mage, yet he was already trying to compress a fireball. That was clearly asking too much of himself.

Once he figured that out, Kent relaxed considerably.

He slowly stood up and glanced around the room, only to realize that everyone else had disappeared.

Curious, he walked next door.

No one was there either.

Only when he looked outside did he realize that night had already fallen.

Kent made his way up to the open-air terrace and found the entire place brightly lit and bustling with activity.

People were eating and drinking, dancers and musicians were performing, and wandering bards were entertaining the passengers with songs and stories.

The atmosphere was incredibly lively.

From a distance, Kent spotted Alice, Delis, and Kweilin sitting together at a table. Kweilin’s two guards and his maid were there as well. Each of them had a cup in hand and seemed to be laughing about something.

“Heh, sorry to keep you waiting.”

Kent walked over quickly.

As soon as he approached, he realized what everyone was laughing at.

Big Nose was sitting there with a huge chunk of roasted meat clutched between his paws, chewing away with obvious delight.

“No rush,” Kweilin said with a smile. “The ship is docked for the night anyway. We won’t leave again until sunrise.”

Ships on the Quin River only traveled during the day.

At night, they docked at riverside ports and remained there until morning.

The singers, dancers, and wandering bards performing on the terrace were mostly people who made their living entertaining travelers at the docks.

Sailing at night would have been practically suicidal.

There were no navigation lights, and in the darkness a ship could easily strike a reef, another vessel, or some hidden obstacle before anyone even realized what had happened.

Besides, the rowers needed time to rest.

These ships were propelled partly by oars extending from both sides of the hull. Traveling downstream on the return journey was much easier, but even then, ships still stopped at night.

As soon as Kent sat down, one of Kweilin’s guards went to order food for him.

Before long, roasted meat, bread, wine, and fruit were brought to the table.

There were several varieties of roasted meat available. Kent chose meat from a young Saru Beast, seasoned with spices and glazed with honey.

The bread was high-quality Golden Silk Bread, the wine had been aged for twenty years, and even the fruit was of a rare and expensive variety.

Only then did Kent notice that the entire trial group from the Church of Light was also dining on the terrace.

Their meal, however, was remarkably simple.

Most of the priests and knights ate nothing but bread and drank plain water.

Only the two leaders were drinking red wine.

Kent himself had a glass of fruit juice in front of him. He had little interest in weak alcoholic drinks.

“Brother, how about going down to the docks for a walk after dinner?” Kweilin asked once he had finished eating, casually sipping his wine.

Among nobles, it was considered improper to talk much during a meal, so Kweilin had waited until everyone was finished before bringing it up.

Kent wiped his mouth and shook his head.

“No. I think I’ll go back and rest.”

“I need to spend the next few days meditating as much as possible, and I still have to familiarize myself with alchemical magic arrays.”

Kent increasingly felt that there simply weren’t enough hours in the day.

He had to study alchemy, familiarize himself with spells from every elemental branch, and continue improving his magical control.

Although he had already discovered the trick to instant casting, there was still one essential requirement—he first had to become thoroughly familiar with each spell’s incantation.

And that created another problem.

Kent already possessed light-element spells, but he still had no idea where to obtain the incantations for darkness, ice, and lightning magic.

For the first time, Kent began to feel that possessing affinities with every element wasn’t necessarily such a wonderful thing after all.

“Come on, come on. Have another drink.”

Kweilin picked up the wine bottle and began pouring Kent another glass. He was obviously bored out of his mind. There was only so much space aboard the ship, and being cooped up there made him feel restless. Worse still, he couldn’t afford to cause any trouble—not with those two powerful leaders from the Church of Light nearby. Kweilin knew perfectly well just how formidable they were.

“Thanks,” Kent said as he rose from his seat. Then, remembering the idea he had been considering for a handgun, he added, “If you happen to find any refined iron, buy some for me. I want to run a small alchemical experiment.”

Kent knew the basic structure of a handgun quite well. The real difficulty lay in several key technical details. So far, it was only an idea in his head, and he had never actually tested whether it could be reproduced with the materials and alchemical methods of this world.

Still, he thought, what better place to experiment than aboard a ship with several quiet days of travel ahead?