The Price of Ten Percent
A definitive conclusion. A definitive conclusion.
A brief, blindingly bright moment—brighter than any other—passed. Sssss. *Thud, clatter...* The final remnants of the wall crumbled helplessly to the ground.
"...Ten percent?" Even after uttering the words, Arcel offered a hollow, dazed laugh, looking like a man who couldn't quite comprehend what he had just said.
Warm sunlight tickled the tip of his nose, and a breeze from the outside swept in, carrying a mixture of dust and the scent of ozone and ash. This place had definitely been indoors just a few minutes ago. There had been a ceiling, walls, and a thick magical barrier shielding them from the elements.
On the floor, a circular magic circle had anchored the black iron pillars, and the walls had been densely embedded with blue circuits designed to disperse thermal energy. Protective runes had floated in neat rows across the ceiling to prevent overheating, and at the center lay ten layers of barriers, each personally verified by Arcel Libern himself.
A basic defensive barrier, a heat dispersion barrier, a shock absorption formula, a magic turbulence blocker, and a sword-path tracking barrier. On top of those, he had added a high-temperature containment wall, an overheat backflow preventer, a ceiling support formula, a ground shock mitigator, and an emergency isolation barrier.
Arcel had activated those barriers one by one with his own hands, verified them with his own eyes, and finally traced the flow of mana himself. It was a structure built to withstand the strikes of a Squad Leader. It was a structure that should have deflected the spells of a high-ranking Demon King's Army Executive at least a few times. Or so Arcel had believed.
That belief was now dead, quietly laid to rest beneath the sunlight streaming through the gaping void where the ceiling used to be.
Arcel looked up at the sky. Where the ceiling should have been, there was only open air. A clear, blue sky. A few wisps of clouds. And a bird flying past.
Staring at the bird, Arcel's mind went completely blank. Even for a Squad Leader of the Sword Order, watching a bird fly overhead from what had been an indoor room just minutes ago was not a common experience.
"Ha." Once again, he couldn't even manage a proper laugh. The air escaping his lungs merely scraped past his throat, barely mimicking the sound of a human voice.
"...Ten percent," Arcel muttered again.
An experiment to confine Baekil within the path of the sword rather than letting it engulf the entire battlefield, so she could use it even in restricted terrain like the abandoned sewers. It sounded simple enough when put into words. Arcel understood it. Theoretically, at least. He knew that what Ena needed wasn't more destructive power, but rather a way to channel her already excessive power through a narrower aperture.
Her pure swordsmanship could push Leo to his limits, but it took too much time to deliver a decisive blow. Unleashing Baekil could erase Leo entirely, but it would also destroy the abandoned sewers, the city, the relay stations, and injure the sleeping citizens. They needed a middle ground. And so, they had attempted to test it on a black iron pillar...
"That straw-like thing..."
"It is... likely the black iron."
To call it a pillar now felt like an insult to both the black iron and the word "pillar" itself. The center of the column was completely hollowed out along the diagonal line where the sword had passed. While the top and bottom sections still clung to their shapes, the middle section that once connected them had been utterly devoured, leaving nothing but a white void. The remaining metal had lost its dark luster, crumbling away like a dried, bleached husk.
Arcel couldn't even bring himself to describe it as having been "cut." He could still vividly picture the scene. The tiny white ember clinging to the edge of the blade. The exact moment that ember sank into the core of the black iron. And the instant those sparks suddenly awakened all at once inside the metal.
Those sparks had connected to form lines, and those lines quickly swelled into a wave of fire that swept across the laboratory floor. It was a tsunami of pure flame. The fire surged along the ground, its crests rising as high as the walls, throwing off thousands of sparks like sea foam.
The base of the fire devoured the stone floor. The middle layer swallowed the barriers whole. The upper crest licked away the protective runes on the ceiling. Every single defense system inside the laboratory collapsed before that white flame, as if they had forgotten what they were even built to protect against.
The barrier plates had done everything they possibly could. They dispersed the heat, deflected the impact, disrupted the turbulence, and delayed the collapse. Yet, before the tidal wave of Baekil, all those functions merely served as a new path for the deluge. As if Ena's sword-path had extended directly through them, the stone, metal, and magic circuits split at the exact same angle.
White fire leaked from the severed edges. Then came the next wave. Pure white flames poured along the cuts. The upper half of the wall hung in place for a fleeting second, and the lower half held on just as briefly. But once the middle section connecting them was devoured by Baekil, the wall could no longer remain a wall.
The upper structure collapsed a moment too late. The circuits connected to the ceiling snapped. The runes of the magic circles were sheared away in the white blaze. And a portion of the ceiling twisted and tore open. The result of that was the sky he was looking at now.
Arcel stared at the sky, then looked back down at the floor. A path carved by fire remained on the ground—a stark, white diagonal line. The stone surrounding that line wasn't even charred black. Being charred black was a luxury reserved only for things still capable of receiving fire's mercy.
The stone where Baekil had passed had first turned white-hot, peeled away like skin, and then vanished into dust. The laboratory floor looked like a shoreline after a massive white wave had swept through. There was debris.
Arcel took a step forward. Something crunched beneath his foot. He looked down. It was a fragment of the sword resonance measurement board. Three months and twelve days—that was how long he had spent calibrating that equipment. Now, the fragment crumbled into dust beneath his boot.
Arcel inhaled. What entered his lungs was more dust than air, and more wind than dust. It had definitely been an indoor room, yet a breeze was blowing through. The walls had opened, the ceiling had opened, and even the faint scent of grass from the outside was drifting in. Strangely, that scent of grass was the hardest thing for Arcel to bear. The smell of fresh grass inside his laboratory. Because his laboratory was no longer a proper indoor space.
"...It's warm," he murmured, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Roen's pen moved. *Scribble.*
Captain Arcel, perceived external temperature following indoor exposure.
Arcel slowly turned his head. Roen looked perfectly fine. To be precise, his face wore its usual, unbothered expression. He stood there, holding his record board. Though the hem of his coat was slightly singed and dust clung to his hair, his expression remained completely dry. Looking at him, Arcel briefly lost his grip on reality.
"Adjutant Roen."
"Yes, Captain."
"Are you seriously recording this right now?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"This is an important experiment."
"My laboratory is half-destroyed!"
"That fact is also important."
*Scribble.*
Captain Arcel's laboratory half-destroyed.
Arcel opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn't know what to say. Roen hadn't done anything wrong. He was merely keeping records. As the Vice Commander and Adjutant of the 1st Squad of the Sword Order, it was only natural for him to document the Commander-in-Chief's phased Baekil experiment. The problem was that there was no one left to blame.
Arcel slowly looked at Ena. Ena stood before what had once been the black iron pillar. Ilryun was already lowered, and the white flame on its blade had almost completely vanished. The tsunami of white fire that had just engulfed the laboratory was quietly receding back into Ilryun, as if it had never existed in the first place.
The black blade was silent. Ena stood there, her breathing perfectly steady. Her shoulders didn't heave, nor did her wrists tremble. Her clothes only settled back down after the hot wind had fully passed, with only a few strands of her silver-white hair falling loosely over her shoulders.
Ena stared at the remnants of the black iron pillar. She watched it in silence for a long moment before speaking in a low voice.
"It seems the output was successfully controlled."
Hearing those words, Arcel couldn't even muster a hollow laugh this time. The sacrifice for that "controlled" output was half of his laboratory. Arcel slowly opened his mouth.
"Commander-in-Chief."
"Speak."
"Just now..."
He stopped himself. *Just now, my laboratory was half-destroyed. Just now, ten layers of my barriers melted away. Just now, a black iron pillar lost its identity as a pillar. Just now, crystals crafted by the Western Magic Tower turned to dust.* All of it was true. And all of it seemed pointless to say. Ena already knew. She probably knew better than Arcel did. So, Arcel returned to the most fundamental question.
"...Ten percent?"
Ena looked at him.
"Yes."
Arcel bowed his head slightly. A laugh escaped him once more—short, dry, and slightly cracked.
"Ha."
The warm wind brushed against his nose again. He smelled burnt stone. He smelled scorched magic circuits. He smelled pulverized crystals. And he smelled the indescribable scent of white fire left behind by the embers of Baekil. Intermingled with all of that was the faint scent of grass from the outside. Strangely, Arcel found that part the hardest to stomach. The smell of grass inside his laboratory. Because the walls were gone.
"...Commander-in-Chief."
"Speak."
"This place was definitely indoors just a few minutes ago."
Ena looked up at the ceiling. No, she looked at where the ceiling used to be. Then, she gave a brief reply.
"It isn't anymore."
Roen's pen moved. *Scribble.*
5th Research Division Central Laboratory, partial loss of indoor functionality.
Arcel closed his eyes.
"Adjutant Roen."
"Yes, Captain."
"Please omit that sentence."
"It is an accurate record."
"I hate it precisely because it is accurate."
"It is necessary for the report."
"It is not necessary for my sanity."
Roen fell silent for a moment. Then, he wrote. *Scribble.*
Captain Arcel, complaining of psychological distress.
Arcel covered his face with both hands. He still had the strength to scream. But before screaming, a researcher must assess the damage. He managed to lower his hands and surveyed the laboratory.
The magic sword response meter. Gone. Only white crystal dust lay scattered in its place.
The sword resonance measurement board. Gone. Only a few bent needles remained on the floor.
The high-heat resistant crystals. They seemed intact at a glance, but a closer look revealed they were completely hollowed out. A single touch would turn them to dust.
The composite barrier plates. *Don't think about it. Seriously, don't think about it.*
The central barrier circuit. Mostly destroyed.
The ceiling protection array. Since the ceiling was gone, the protection array had lost its meaning as well.
The wall magic circuits. Severed along the diagonal path where the tsunami of Baekil had passed.
The magic sword storage rack. The one closest to the blast had nothing left but a single hilt.
Arcel's gaze locked onto the hilt. A hilt. Truly, only a hilt remained. Where the rest of the storage rack had gone was anyone's guess. It had likely vanished into the foam of the white fire. Staring blankly at the hilt, his lips began to tremble.
"...My," he croaked.
His voice cracked. A few squad members flinched. Roen's pen stopped. Ena quietly watched Arcel.
Arcel took another step forward. Something crunched beneath his foot. He looked down. It was a fragment of the measurement board. Three months and twelve days. A fragment of that precious time. Arcel had just ground it into dust beneath his boot. The rims of his eyes slowly turned red.
"...My laboratory..."
This time, it was much clearer. The reality that had been floating in the air because his mind couldn't keep up finally crashed down upon his chest.
Arcel slowly raised his hands, burying his fingers deep into his light-blue hair. He looked at the ruined laboratory. He looked at the open sky. He looked at the severed surfaces where white embers still flickered. Finally, he looked at the magic sword storage rack that had nothing left but a hilt. And at last...
"MY LABORATORY...!!!"
His voice erupted over the ruins of the laboratory.
"AARRGGHH!"
The Captain of the 5th Squad of the Sword Order. The long, light-blue-haired Magic Swordsman. The genius who mastered both sword and sorcery. Arcel Libern. His scream pierced through the collapsed ceiling and echoed outside.
A few members of the 5th Squad passing nearby froze in unison. A scribe in the hallway stiffened. Far away near the training grounds, a squad member polishing his sword raised his head. No one asked why.
If such a scream echoed from the 5th Research Division, the reason was usually one of two things: Either an experiment had succeeded, or the research budget had died. This time, it was both.
Ena listened to Arcel's scream for a moment. Her expression didn't change much, but her gaze swept over the ruins of the laboratory. The black iron pillar. The split floor. The open wall. The empty spaces where equipment had once stood. The ceiling that still laid bare the sky.
Ena slowly sheathed Ilryun. *Click.* It was a soft sound, yet it rang out with strange clarity even amidst Arcel's wailing.
"Roen."
"Yes, Commander-in-Chief."
"Is this facility... very expensive?"
Roen flipped through his record board. He turned one page with his dusty fingers, then another. He seemed to be mentally cross-referencing the research division's budget with the equipment list. Then, he replied with absolute composure.
"Yes."
A brief silence.
"Extremely expensive."
Arcel's scream reached a whole new octave.
"AARRGGHH!"
Roen's pen moved. *Scribble.*
Captain Arcel, severe psychological distress.
Arcel whipped his head around, his face stained with tears.
"Are you seriously writing that down right now?!"
Roen remained unfazed.
"It is an important record."
"My laboratory is dead!"
"It is half-destroyed."
"Isn't that the exact same thing?!"
"It is not a total loss."
"That is not comforting at all!"
Roen looked around the laboratory for a moment. Then, he spoke.
"Restoration is possible."
Arcel gasped, a tiny glimmer of hope lighting up his face. Roen continued.
"It will simply cost a fortune."
Arcel collapsed once more.
Ena fell into thought for a moment. She looked at her hand—the hand that had just unleashed ten percent of Baekil. Her hand was perfectly fine. Ilryun was also perfectly fine. Only the laboratory was not fine.
Ena asked Roen.
"How much has accumulated in my salary?"
At those words, Arcel's screaming stopped. To be precise, it caught in his throat.
"Pardon?"
Arcel stared at Roen. One by one, the research division members also raised their heads. Roen flipped through his record board once more.
Commander-in-Chief Ena. Official salary. Wartime allowances. Special merit rewards. Rewards for subjugating calamity-class entities on the Eastern Front. Rewards for subjugating Demon King's Army Executives. Gratitude funds paid by the Royal Family, the Holy Church, and the Magic Tower. And her expenditure history: virtually none.
Roen spoke calmly.
"...An immense amount."
"How much?"
"You have barely spent any of your personal funds, Commander-in-Chief."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
Roen looked at his record board once more.
"There are no records of luxury purchases, nor any expenditures on personal hobbies."
Ena fell silent for a moment.
"I had no reason to spend it."
Roen's pen moved. *Scribble.*
Commander-in-Chief, low personal spending propensity.
Arcel, his eyes still brimming with tears, muttered, "Why are you recording that now..."
Without looking up, Roen replied, "Verifying restoration funds."
Ena gave a brief nod.
"Bring a sack of it."
"Understood."
Before long, two scribes from the 1st Squad entered the laboratory. They didn't ask a single question, despite the catastrophic scene before them. Scribes who had worked long enough in the Sword Order knew better than to ask questions. Especially not when the Commander-in-Chief was standing, Captain Arcel was weeping, and Adjutant Roen was recording.
The two scribes carried in a large sack. It looked incredibly heavy. *Clink. Clank.* The distinct sound of metal clashing echoed from within. Arcel's eyes locked onto it.
Ena caught the sack with one hand, effortlessly, and tossed it in front of Arcel. *Thud. Clatter...* With a heavy sound, the mouth of the sack spilled open slightly. A metallic luster, almost pure white, gleamed from within. They weren't gold coins. They were platinum coins—the highest denomination of currency, rarely ever seen in circulation.
Arcel froze. He even forgot to cry. A whole sack filled to the brim with platinum coins lay before him. Ena spoke calmly.
"Fix it with this."
Arcel stared at the sack. He looked at Ena. Then he looked back at the sack.
"...Commander-in-Chief."
"Speak."
"Thank you...!"
And that became the catalyst for Arcel to dedicate himself even more fiercely to developing the intermediate stage for Ena.
And several months later...
"Commander-in-Chief. Captain Arcel has completed it."
"Is that so? I must go see it then."
Finally, Ena's intermediate armament was complete.