Chapter 27 – Academy (12)
I hadn't expected a book to feel heavier than an iron nail.
It did.
"On the Behaviour of Mana in Proximity to Metallic Conduits," the cover said.
Ancient leather. Faded ink. Old dust. New possibilities.
I carried it back to the dorm like contraband.
Boys' wing. Door. Click.
Silence.
The room shrank to a bed, a desk, a candle, the coil from last night, and the book Lyra had shoved into my hands in the corridor.
I set it down, lit the candle, and opened it.
***
The first chapter nearly made me throw it at the wall.
"Scholars have long noted that metal placed near active mana arrays produces 'ghost forces'," the author wrote. "These invisible hands push and pull with no visible spell pattern, suggesting a secondary, unseen flow."
Ghost forces.
Invisible hands.
No model. No math.
Just a lot of "mysterious influences" and "arcane sympathies."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Right," I muttered. "Let's see if you buried anything useful under all the drama."
He had.
Hidden under superstition and terrible terminology were clumsy, real experiments.
One mage had wound a copper wire in a spiral around a crystal, pushed mana through it in pulses, and watched an iron ring nearby twitch.
Another had put two crystals on each end of a metal rod, forced mana into one, and seen the other flicker to life with no direct spell.
Their explanations were nonsense.
"Sympathy between like elements."
"Mana echo through the earth."
But the sketches…
The sketches were coils, rods, loops.
I traced one drawing with my thumb.
"You were poking at transformers centuries ago," I said quietly, "and wrote it down like a ghost story."
[ Regression Memory – Passive Effect ]
[ Note: No recollection of such experiments being common in previous loops. This knowledge appears rare or discarded. ]
So either this book was niche, hidden, or everyone decided it was too strange to touch.
The author described one test where a ring with a simple light spell shattered near a copper spiral fed with mana pulses.
"Repeated oscillation caused destructive interference," he wrote. "The spell matrix unraveled itself."
He called it a warning.
I called it confirmation.
Mana oscillation + metal geometry = an effect that could *break* other magic from a distance.
Useful.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
I picked up my own coil.
Same idea.
Less mysticism.
More physics.
***
Step one: copy the "ghost pull."
I stripped more wire from a broken practice charm and made a second, smaller coil. Both around iron nails. Both with bare wire ends.
Primary coil on the desk.
Secondary coil a short distance away, nail tips almost touching.
Candle between us.
Mana crystal in my hand.
Resonant Flow.
Not the choppy pulses I'd used before. A smoother wave now that my channels remembered the pattern.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Mana ran from core to crystal to primary coil.
Iron hummed.
The candle flame leaned.
The second coil sat still.
No surprise. Those old mages had probably just smashed mana in with broad pulses; I was being picky.
Fine.
I shifted the wave.
Faster.
Slower.
Faster again.
Sweeping through frequencies, counting heartbeats, waiting for that "click" feeling in my nerves.
Nothing.
The secondary nail refused to move.
I set it closer.
So close the two nails almost touched.
Resonant Flow again.
On the third cycle, I felt it through Field Sense: a tiny slip in the aura around my fingertips, like something had caught and let go.
The second nail trembled.
Barely.
But it did.
"Hello, induction," I said.
[ System ]
[ Mana Circuit Theory – Progress: 38% → 52% ]
[ Analysis: You've demonstrated mana-driven induction in a secondary conductor. ]
A start.
Not flashy.
Real.
***
Step two: prove it isn't my imagination.
"Quantify" was generous. I didn't have instruments. I had a bowl of slightly salty water and some copper.
I stripped the ends of the secondary coil, twisted them into two bare points, and dipped them into the water.
If the induced current was strong enough, I might get the tiniest bit of electrolysis. Bubbles.
Mana through the primary.
Resonant Flow, adjusted, pushing a little harder.
I stared at the copper tips.
For a while, nothing.
Then, faintly, tiny strings of bubbles formed and slid up, popping as they reached the surface.
They died quickly, but they'd existed.
"This would fail every peer review on Earth," I muttered. "Good thing there's no committee."
[ System ]
[ Mana Circuit Theory – Progress: 52% → 69% ]
[ Insight: Mana flow can induce measurable mundane currents. ]
Mana → EM → chemistry.
The bridge was there.
Crude and held together by guesswork, but there.
What could a Tower mage with good materials do with this?
Probably something catastrophic.
I filed that mental note under: Things to worry about later.
***
Step three: check if the bridge goes both ways.
The book hinted it did.
"Presence of certain metal shapes seems to disturb spell arrays, even without direct mana," the author had written. "As if the metal itself displeases the spell."
He had the instincts of a field theorist and the vocabulary of a superstitious uncle.
I didn't have a generator. I had a coil, a nail, and the ability to shove mana until things complained.
I wrapped extra wire around the primary nail and poured mana through it in a heavy, constant stream.
No resonance this time.
Just brute force.
The nail grew warm. When I finally cut the flow, a loose pin clung to it instead of dropping.
Crude magnet: achieved.
I spread aura in a thin film over my right forearm, keeping the flow as steady as possible.
Then I brought the magnetized nail close.
Cold metal. That was physical.
The wobble under the skin was not.
With Field Sense open, I felt my aura thin and thicken as the nail moved, like the flow was being nudged by something outside my control.
I pulled it away.
The aura smoothed.
Closer again.
Wobble.
"Two-way street, then," I whispered.
[ System ]
[ Mana Circuit Theory – Progress: 69% → 82% ]
[ Insight: Mundane electromagnetic fields can disturb mana patterns. ]
So mana could push EM around.
And EM could tug on mana.
Which meant someone who understood both could interfere with spells without using magic the usual way.
That wasn't just interesting.
That was a whole new class of weapon.
***
Step four: make the System happy.
"Demonstrate a reproducible interaction," the Sub-Quest had said.
Done.
"Do something practical," it hadn't said, but I could guess.
I stared at the coils, the bowl, the nail, the cheap student light charm stuck to the desk.
What can I actually *use* this for right now?
I didn't have the materials to build anything big.
But I had a blade.
Steel was just a long piece of metal with good manners.
Aura already liked to cling to it.
If I could run a controlled oscillation along a sword, maybe I could make a moving, narrow field that annoyed nearby enchantments.
Not destroy.
Just… interfere.
I pulled a short real blade from under the bed and set it on the desk.
Aura flowed onto the steel, habit by now.
This time, instead of a simple coat, I shaped a path.
From core down my arm into the hilt, along the edge to the tip, back along the flat to the guard, and in again.
A loop.
Resonant Flow along that path.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
The sword hummed, a faint, almost imaginary vibration.
I opened Field Sense.
The blade was a thin rod with a pulsing halo, weak but clean.
I activated the student light charm on the desk, watched it cast its steady, boring glow.
Then I brought the sword closer.
Nothing.
Closer.
Within a handspan.
The light twitched.
I pulled back.
Glow steadied.
"Again," I murmured.
I adjusted the frequency of the aura wave — a little faster, a little smoother — and moved the blade in once more.
This time, as the tip slid past the charm, the glow stuttered.
Not much.
A hiccup.
I pressed a bit closer, keeping the wave steady.
The charm's light went out for a heartbeat.
Then blinked back.
[ System ]
[ Mana Circuit Theory – Progress: 82% → 100% ]
[ Sub-Quest Complete: "Mana Circuit Theory" ]
[ Calculating Reward… ]
I exhaled slowly.
"Not bad," I said to the sword.
Windows filled my vision.
[ Reward Granted: Unique Skill – "Induction Edge (F)" ]
[ Reward Granted: Title – "Circuit Thinker" ]
[ Induction Edge (F) ]
– Type: Aura Technique (Combat / Utility)
– Effect: You can run a patterned mana oscillation along a weapon, creating a weak localized field. On contact or near-contact with simple enchantments, there is a chance to cause temporary interference (flicker, delay, or minor failure).
– Limitations: Currently effective only against low-grade arrays and charms. Larger or more stable spells will resist or adapt.
– Growth: Scales with INT, control, and waveform refinement.
[ Title: Circuit Thinker ]
– Effect: Slight bonus to learning speed when combining physics knowledge and mana theory.
– Secondary: Slightly increased chance to trigger "Research" type Sub-Quests.
– Comment: You insisted magic should behave like a field. Magic has started to agree. Reluctantly.
I leaned the sword against the desk and let my shoulders relax.
For the first time, that half-formed idea about mana and atoms wasn't just a dying thought in another life.
It had teeth.
[ Regression Memory – Updated ]
[ This breakthrough will be prioritized for recall in future loops. ]
That line settled something tight in my chest.
Even if this run went badly.
Even if everything ahead turned ugly.
The work wouldn't vanish.
Old me had guessed.
This me had proved something.
That was enough for tonight.
My channels ached from forcing patterns.
My head throbbed with the usual, dull post-mana fatigue.
Outside, the Academy was quiet. Through the wall, Rion snored like a badly tuned instrument.
I closed the book and slid it under my pillow.
Coils. Nails. Bowl. Cheap light charm. Sword.
All still there.
No scorch marks on the walls.
Progress, by my standards.
I crawled onto the bed and let my eyes slip shut.
New skill.
New title.
New way of seeing how this world fit together.
Tomorrow would still be training and class and nobles and problems.
But now, under everything else, there was also this:
A thin, invisible line connecting mana and electricity, magic and physics, my old life and this one.
And for once, it felt like the line was something I'd drawn on purpose.
Sleep took me while I was still thinking about coils and waves and the next experiment.
The candle burned low.
The light charm hummed quietly, steady again.
And somewhere under my pillow, an old book waited, finally in the hands of someone stubborn enough to drag its "ghost forces" into something real.