Chapter 559 — A New Line of Thought

Brilliant sparks of energy leaped between the runic mechanisms, surging magic power distributed from the power spine into every arcane engine, and with a resounding blast of the steam whistle, on a test platform hundreds of meters long, a train composed of four power carriages and a vast array of intricate linkage mechanisms, control systems, and energy-supply systems began to move slowly forward.

From the observation tower a hundred meters away from the platform, Rebecca and the technicians watched with undivided attention every detail of that enormous, complex, and precise mechanical beast, every turn of its wheels, every rumble that issued from within its carriages.

The train traveled several dozen meters, and one of the power carriages in the middle section suddenly reduced its output as planned.

By design, the linkage mechanisms fore and aft of the carriage would respond at once: the displaced runic triggers would redistribute the energy supply among all the power carriages and disengage the wheel-axle transmission of the faulty carriage, so as to prevent the malfunctioning carriage from upsetting the balance of the entire train, or even damaging the mechanical structure of the linkage assembly.

Yet a particularly loud noise erupted from the connector between the second and third power carriages. With that tremendous noise, a ball of bright arcane fire suddenly gushed from the arcane obelisk atop the carriage, and immediately after, the power spine connected to the obelisk detonated—magic power with nowhere to vent burst forth in an instant from between all the runic base plates, and the two power carriages were engulfed almost instantaneously in a mass of flame.

The fireball from the explosion rose into the air above the test platform and slowly coalesced in midair into the word "Embarrassing."

On this virtual test ground, where cost and consequences were essentially of no concern, this little special effect served as an excellent warning and goad to the project's participants.

Countless bright, illusory lines quivered and roamed across the platform; the carriages and fireballs destroyed by the deflagration came to a standstill in midair and displayed their clear, decomposed structures. And on the distant observation tower, Rebecca scratched at her scalp.

"Good heavens," the young marchioness said, breaking into a cold sweat. "Thank goodness we ran the test here..."

Beside her, Camille also let out a helpless sound: "If this were real... Lady Hetty would be absolutely furious."

Rebecca pursed her lips, not daring to imagine the scene of her aunt, driven to fury, stringing her up and beating her. She waved a hand: "Let's look into the cause."

The upper level of the observation tower immediately detached from the tower body and carried all the technicians to the now-frozen wreckage of the experiment.

In this experimental space formed by virtual reality, everything became extraordinarily convenient.

The two project leaders, with a crowd of technicians, began to analyze the cause of the failure. They observed carefully, calculated meticulously, hypothesized, discussed, verified, debated... For the birth of something entirely new, the wisdom of many was concentrated together; they took not strength or status as their measure, but simple "knowledge and truth" as their yardstick, and the whole team set to work busily.

At the edge of the crowd, Daniel, participating for the first time in a "Cecil-style research" team, looked on at this scene with a touch of bewilderment.

It was the first time he had taken part in a team activity since becoming a servant of the Otherworld Wanderer, yet the atmosphere and form of this team activity were utterly different from what he had imagined.

He had imagined it would be a gloomy, oppressive cabal, or else a rigid and ruthless organization—that was how secret organizations usually were. He had also imagined that the working atmosphere here would be tense, mysterious, and full of taboos and heretical knowledge—that was how cults usually were. But never had he imagined that the true atmosphere here would be like this.

These people seemed to be simply pursuing new knowledge, exploring technical possibilities, and nothing more. In this "esoteric force" founded by the Otherworld Wanderer, people's motive for pursuing truth was in fact simpler and purer than that of the glorious Royal Society of Mages.

Daniel, who had spent his entire youth and middle age in the Royal Society of Mages and then a dozen-odd years as a cultist in the Order of the Long Twilight, was not accustomed to this "pure" atmosphere—or rather, no mage or scholar in this world, in this age, would be accustomed to such an unprecedented atmosphere. Yet watching these people flush red in argument over a technical problem and cheer with delight over a few calculation results, Daniel could not summon the slightest aversion.

He even could not help recalling his younger days, recalling the time when he had first come into contact with the mysteries of magic—in his distant, somewhat faded memories, it seemed that only those days still carried a trace of warmth and color.

The unknown realms and the process of seeking knowledge—those were the most enchanting of all.

Beside the test bench, Rebecca drew a twisted, deformed metal component close before her eyes and shook her head: "The mechanical structure of the linkage assembly is flawed—too complex, which lowers reliability..."

As she spoke, she suddenly noticed Daniel standing not far away, and beckoned to him: "Master Daniel, what do you make of it?"

Daniel was startled out of his brief reverie. Hearing Rebecca's call, he walked over and said, "There's no need to call me master. Just Daniel is fine."

Although this girl named Rebecca was still young, she was one of the Otherworld Wanderer's first envoys—and moreover a blood descendant of the body the Otherworld Wanderer currently inhabited. Though he did not know why, the master clearly protected and cherished her as though she were his true descendant, and having learned this, Daniel naturally showed her a certain courtesy.

Apart from Rebecca, the one named Camille was likewise no ordinary figure—an ancient arcanist who had survived from a thousand years ago to the present, a grand archmage of the Gondor Empire, a man who had even remade himself with the power of a god—equally not to be taken lightly.

Compared with such people, he himself, a high-ranking mage from the Royal Society of Mages, truly amounted to little—even if he had once taught a legendary powerhouse, what of it? Did the Otherworld Wanderer lack legendary power?

The simple-hearted Rebecca could not possibly guess what the old mage before her was actually lamenting. She merely asked his opinion: "Daniel, what do you think is wrong with the approach to the arcane train?"

Daniel glanced at that arcane construct, with its complex structure and its mechanical assemblies of inconceivable design everywhere, and shook his head with a bitter smile: "To be honest, I still haven't fully grasped its principles... I can only help you build the virtual environment."

Daniel was an expert in dream magic and virtual reality; he was here as a consultant to help Camille and Rebecca construct the laboratory environment. But as for the field of arcane machinery... though he understood a little of it, his expertise was plainly no match for Rebecca's.

Rebecca herself had not really expected to get an answer from Daniel. She simply shook her head: "Both approaches feel like hard going..."