Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Magic Tower Genius Hides Physics
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I hated the undergrads whining about classes starting.
They'd slacked off for months during break, so now they should buckle down for the rest of the term.
How long did they plan to goof off!
...
But now my thinking had shifted a bit.
"I'm planning to quit the new grape stomping from now on."
"..."
"Resting during break felt way too good."
Right now, this world just struck me as endlessly hilarious.
On the first day of classes, Liam tilted his head after listening to my tirade.
He paused his unpacking and turned to me.
"Isaac, you worked during break too, didn't you?"
"...Me?"
When had I worked?
I'd rested perfectly fine the whole time.
"You published two theses."
"Ah."
"Both sparked a huge commotion—people were scrambling to copy them first thing in the morning."
"Oh."
News about my theses had spread faster than expected.
And both racking up solid view counts.
Strange.
Flocking to the air one made sense.
That was a genuinely groundbreaking feat.
But the 'Suspension' magic tool paper? I'd deliberately skipped all the principles.
Those kinds never get high views.
Nothing to take away from them.
Yet people were devouring it...
'What the heck did Her Highness do?'
This hit harder than the tale of a three-year backlog at the workshop.
'Ah, almost forgot. Gotta actually build that power hammer.'
I'd already scouted a riverside spot on the capital's outskirts.
Bought the land too, so a water-powered magic tool power hammer there would do the trick.
Might as well make a blast furnace while I'm at it.
I'd done one back in the countryside before coming to the capital, so this time it'd turn out even better.
Still, the artisans at Uphills Workshop never let their hammers rest.
The semester had barely begun when I got summoned to the 49th floor.
The 49th—as everyone knew—was the dean's floor.
"..."
"..."
Silence hung heavy in the dean's office.
I wasn't the only guest.
Zap.
The Wind Magic School Head glared at me.
...I still didn't know for sure if the guy was the Wind Magic School Head.
Just guessing from the massive pecs peeking under his robe.
'Ah, so that's it.'
This had to be about the 'Ideal Gas Magic School' independence petition.
The School Head spoke to me.
"You're the one who stirred up my subordinates."
"...I didn't stir anyone up."
I'd just given them a cool new name.
...Sure, I'd exchanged letters with Professor Gedric now and then.
Purely academic stuff.
The Wind School Head turned to the dean.
"Dean, does this make any sense? Tower mages passing around an unverified thesis."
"..."
"And now it's got the Wind Element Magic School on the brink of splitting in two!"
But the dean offered no reply.
Her elven eyes fixed on me instead.
Those blue irises seemed to pierce right through.
'Testing how I'll handle this?'
My past-life-honed instincts kicked in.
"School Head, what they want isn't a split—it's independence to foster mutual cooperation."
"Don't play word games with me, brat!"
"..."
"Splitting a school with pie-in-the-sky theory, and now you call it 'cooperation'!"
One wrong move, and my spine might snap backward.
But backing down meant ruin. Showing fear meant death.
Time for expression control.
Play it like, 'I deeply admire your research.'
I told him,
"It's no pie in the sky. Establish the 'Ideal Gas Magic School,' and the prediction accuracy for your 6th-circle 'Wind Press' will skyrocket."
"...That's from an unpublished paper."
"Didn't leak to other wind mages?"
"True enough... No way. You guessed from a footnote in another paper?"
"Exactly."
"..."
The School Head eyed me steadily.
Then his mouth opened.
"Northern high latitudes—changes to the incantation for 8th-circle 'Great Typhoon'?"
"Varies by month. Which season?"
"..."
The School Head was at a loss.
Time to press.
I continued,
"Take this office. Cast a 1st-circle wind spell—one tweak to the magic circle's stroke, and rebound drops sharply."
"...Prove it."
Perfect chance to cast right here... but permission?
I glanced at the dean.
Nod.
Go ahead.
Could slap the ideal gas law on directly, but better safe.
Call in fluid dynamics to nix the turbulence.
Brutal calculations incoming.
∂u/∂t + u⋅∇u = −1/ρ ∇p + ν∇²u + (1/3)ν∇(∇⋅u) + g
I'd used Navier-Stokes back with Malachi, but gases demanded more complexity—compressibility and all.
No closed-form solution, just grind numerical approximations.
Right in front of him, I erased the micro-turbulences fueling wind magic rebound.
"..."
"..."
Luckily, no one clocked my sleight of hand.
PV = NkT
Overlaid it on a stable atmosphere.
To an outsider, it'd look like the 'ideal gas' made the spell flawless.
Structure complete.
Activate.
Whoooosh.
A gentle breeze swirled through the office.
"Not a lie, then."
Wonder gleamed in the School Head's eyes.
"...Flows this perfectly? Zero rebound?"
"What do you think?"
"..."
Please bite.
Moments later, he spoke.
"...Then let's verify it pronto."
"Verify how?"
"Thesis review."
"Perfect."
Nice.
Exactly what I wanted.
'Verification' just meant a master's thesis defense.
No heavyweight would bother attacking some undergrad scribble.
The dean finally spoke.
"Very well. Fail the defense, and we'll reconsider the 'Ideal Gas Magic School' independence."
Her gaze shifted to me.
"But this stacks the deck against the Uphills crew."
The corner of her mouth twitched up.
"A researcher contributing to the Tower's progress—even during break—deserves proper reward."
Pardon?
"Thus, if it passes, we'll award researcher Isaac Uphills a master's degree."
"..."
In the Magic Tower, the dean's word was law.
And just like that, my degree rode on this defense.
Simon, chair of the Magic Tower Thesis Review Association, lit yet another cigarette.
"One damn thing after another... crap."
Exhale.
Smoke filled the conference room.
"Isaac Uphills, huh..."
A newbie not even a full year in the Tower.
But none of the tales swirling around him were ordinary.
Now accused of trying to cleave the Wind Element Magic School in half.
"Come to think of it, that whole [Calculus] business was this guy's doing too...?"
Every major rumor buzzing in the capital seemed to feature his name.
Troublemaker suited him better than hero.
The chair said,
"Folks, who should review this paper? Good pick gets 1,000 gold in autonomous research funds."
"What? Chair, 1,000 gold's peanuts for that paper."
He scowled at the pushback.
"It's just a master's thesis, max."
"...Point taken—you clearly haven't read it."
"You gonna personally read every single paper if you're chair?"
The chair tore at his hair over Isaac Uphills's master's defense agenda.
Attacker selection was the nightmare.
Too elite, and other students riot. Too junior, and the Wind School Head throws a fit.
Then 'John Smith'—last bonus winner—piped up.
"How about Professor Dolloren? She's Uphills's mentor—high caliber, but symbolic enough to slide."
Chair Simon lit a smoke.
Exhale.
One sigh later,
"If a few letters could drag her here, I wouldn't be suffering."
Dolloren was a comet.
Pass once, who knew when she'd streak by again.
Sighs piled up.
Then—a sparkle outside the window.
"Chair! See that? Meteor?"
"Dunno, punk. Do your job."
Empire capital outskirts, near the river.
I dipped a hand in the current.
Flow rate and velocity—spot on.
"This'll do nicely."
I was laying the groundwork to relocate Uphills Workshop here.
"No legal headaches either."
Bought up the surroundings to block disputes and leave room for expansion.
Finish the magic prep today, and the construction crews could roll in tomorrow.
Laura handled vendor picks, FYI.
Wrapped the power hammer design and started foundations when my mana detection net snagged something.
High altitude, screaming velocity—plunging object.
"Meteor?"
...Nah.
Backtracked the trajectory via detection spell—way too wonky.
Not a missile, but the ballistic arc bent unnaturally.
Intercept?
Rescanned.
The falling object's identity...
"A person?"
And a damn strong-looking mage at that.
KABOOOM—!
A deafening roar as she cratered my private land.
Dust cloud billowed.
Puff puff.
Dust settled—crater center, a woman in perfect superhero landing: both legs braced, one arm down.
Pictured straight from a comic.
"Clothes held up fine, good."
Shock still fading, and she's fussing over her outfit first.
Tight ponytail, toned build.
Dagger at her waist.
...Field mage?
She said,
"Where's this?"
First time witnessing this, I blurted something stupid.
"Empire capital... my private property."
She snorted.
"So, you telling me to scram?"
"...No, not exactly."
"Empire law says land deals cover 'surface' only. You buy underground dev rights too?"
Crater was deep—legally, she had a point.
She hopped out smugly.
I asked her,
"Field mage? Wind element specialist?"
"Nope. Not element at all."
"..."
I eyed the crater.
Back-of-envelope impact calc—even with barriers, instant death.
'Suspicious as hell...'
Dark underbelly mage? They drop in this bold?
No way.
I asked,
"What's your name? I'm Howard, by the way."
"Yeah, Jane Doe."
"..."
Jane Doe.
Standard tag for unidentified women.
Way too on-the-nose fake.
'Keep her out of the capital till I ID her.'
Watched her moves closely.
Looks around.
Then,
"Forge... nah, steel mill?"
Her gaze hit the power hammer blueprints.
"Clean circuits. Sick of grubby ancient magic— this is refreshing."
"..."
I stayed mum.
Definitely a skilled mage.
She went on,
"Whoa, what? Not your standard water wheel. Hoists weights high with spare power, then bleeds it slow on demand. Genius."
"..."
Nailed the magic tool's core principle in one.
'Spotted the gravity energy storage system.'
Couldn't help smirking.
Dark origins or not, someone who gets it is gold.
I said,
"Curious about the principles?"
"Hm?"
Problems? Deal later.
Worst case, feed her some iron balls.
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