CHAPTER 143
THE BIRTHDAY GIFT FROM THE ELVES
As was often the case, Dietrich's words sounded impressive but left Hans somewhat puzzled. Nevertheless, that was not his main concern at the moment. Brushing aside his emotions, he inquired of his thousand-year-old ancestor, "But what should I do? The moment I get angry, my spells go haywire. It's ridiculous—.”
"That worm was controlling more than just your guilt," Dietrich replied, his thoughts deep. "It was helping you maintain your composure. Since most of your spells require flawless precision from the start, any distraction can cause them to fail."
"It's not like I didn't know that," Hans retorted, almost pleading. "Can't you put that thing back in my head? It was much easier before.”
“But rage is a powerful emotion, my foolish descendant. You must learn to harness it."
“Mhmh..!!!” Hans whined, “But I feel so powerless—.”
“Idiot, that thing was also limiting your potential. You can't reach your full potential with a limiter. Weren't you fine after using that three-step ManaStorm?"
“Oh! I almost forgot.. it always took a toll but…” he started gathering the mana, spiralling it around, but it wasn't as painful this time. "You were right. It's easier, and I can push myself further now."
"See," Dietrich pointed out, "that limiter was pushing you to play it safe. It was probably there to prevent you from becoming too powerful. It's a good thing it's out of your system now. Learn to live like ordinary people. You're almost there. You need to engrain the construction of your attacks into your muscle memory through repetition so you don't have to think too much; it should come naturally. Got it? Now, let's hurry to your room; it's almost time for your class."
Dietrich had been assisting Hans for the past few weeks, but he couldn't help but wonder why Hans had that emotion-controlling device in his head in the first place. However, he soon gave up on understanding it because comprehending Samson always left him baffled. Hans had shared all the details, explaining how he couldn't harm her before, and the only thing Dietrich gleaned from the explanation was that Samson was deeply determined to protect Aredhel's child.
"Hey, hey, dear ancestor," Hans's sudden call snapped him out of his thoughts, prompting Dietrich to inquire, "What is it?”
"Nothing, really. I just wanted to say...thank you for helping me out, I guess.”
"Wow!" Dietrich was taken aback by those words. "I told you, removing that thing was a good idea—“
"Don't get used to it, great-grandfather. I'm still the same.”
"Yeah, foolish descendant." Dietrich tousled Hans's hair, saying, "It's belated, but happy birthday, kiddo." Then, he disappeared, leaving Hans bewildered. "Where's my gift, old fox?”
He sighed, pouting. "I was waiting for it for a year, but I've got no one to celebrate it with. This kind of feels bad... and depressing too…No…Get your act together, you idiot, or everyone you care about will die," he scolded himself, slapping his cheeks. "Let's see how much the fledgling has grown."
He turned to get dressed, but his eyes drifted to the side lamp beside the bed. "A letter," he said aloud and opened it to read, "For your twelfth birthday, try using the elven pendant."
"What? Isn't it just a mana gem? It's impossible to use without an artefact...wait a second…” He recalled the explanation in his previous class, an artefact is a device that channels mana from the gem in a specific circuit, right? I don't need a circuit; I can control it on my own—"
“Trinnnng…”
"Ugh, the bell rang. Just when I was getting somewhere. I'll look into this later." Picking up his white robe, he hurried to his classes.
After his daring feat of bringing back an unscathed great mamba, a class three beast, many began to take notice of him. He earned two thousand credits, an achievement even beyond the reach of most third-year students, yet he accomplished it in just two months. This news spread through the second-year students like wildfire. However, no one knew where he had disappeared to, so everyone eagerly awaited the lifting of his suspension. It was an undeniable fact that he would lead the junior team in the Glory Wars, representing Concordia.
As Hans stepped into the lecture hall, everyone turned to look at him, but no one spoke. In their eyes, he was a reckless lunatic who didn't think twice. While some hated him, others admired his audacity, yet none had the courage to approach him.
"What on earth are they staring at? Do I have bed hair or food on my face? Should I check?" Hans turned to one of the students, hoping for an answer, but the student felt a shiver run down his spine and it was evident on her face.
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“Am I really that intimidating?" Hans asked himself, mumbling as he made his way to his usual spot. He unwittingly caused a commotion among the backbenchers, who scrambled to the front with a single glance from him. "Well, I can't say this is bad. I'll probably enjoy this.”
Today consisted of three back-to-back classes, but Hans's mind was preoccupied with what Dietrich had said, or more precisely, what he had written. He fidgeted with the pendant, studying it intently, but to others, it appeared as if he were showing off his trophy - after all, it was from the Elven royal princess.
Meanwhile, completely unaware of his peers' thoughts, Hans remained deeply engrossed with the pendant. However, even the Command Centre had no information on it; all it detected was a dormant artefact that was cleverly concealing a top-quality wind gem.
"How about..." Hans began, lost in thought, and then suddenly, “Bamm!" He was propelled towards the ceiling as if someone had launched him with an immense force.
"Agh," he groaned in pain, struggling to regain his footing. "I just redirected it like the artefact's circuit, and it threw me to the ceiling. What is this thing used for?" He pondered for a moment, various theories he had read over the years flooding his mind. Then, one theory stood out from the rest.
"Wait, I know what you are," he said, pulling the pendant closer to his face, and startling the students sitting in front of him. His muffled laughter with blood runny nose, only added to their unease, and like him, they were waiting for this damned lecture to end fast.
Just as the professor concluded the session, after repeatedly questioning Hans about his sanity and when he stepped out from the hall, Hans bolted out, shouting, “THANK YOU, O WISE ANCESTOR —”
“Oh! Senior.” Vanir interrupted his eureka moment, saying, “I found the theory in libra —”
"Haha! This day couldn't get any better," Hans shouted with joy, ignoring the curious onlookers. He followed Vanir to a more secluded spot and urged, “Now spill it junior,” he asked, curious.
"Well," Vanir began, "I discovered a collection of failed experiments in the library, specifically about attempts to create a golem with distributed cores. One experiment focused on enhancing the motor skills of a golem."
"I sense a 'but' coming, Junior," Hans remarked.
"Yes," Vanir confirmed, "the researcher ultimately failed because a central core was still necessary to command the other cores. Removing it didn't address the fundamental weakness.”
"Any other findings?" Hans probed further.
"Yes, another one," Vanir replied, "where one mage succeeded in creating a moving core that's hard to detect, but it became quite expensive. Nonetheless, he achieved it.”
"So, how does it work?" Hans asked with anticipation, hoping for more valuable information. However, Vanir shook his head, a touch of disappointment in his voice as he said, "If I could have found that easily, Senior, you wouldn't have had to pay such a hefty price.”
Hans continued to gaze at the expensive parchment in his hand, which had cost him a thousand credits. "Is there any chance you can modify the formula based on these theories?" he asked, thinking, “If those pesky fellows had allowed me to access the trade centre more than once, I would have bought everything allowed.”
Hans was deep in thought, blaming his inability to access the trade centre for his failure. But suddenly, Vanir spoke, interrupting his thoughts, "We can theorise all we want, but we still need a central core, period.”
"Suppose we follow everything, could you modify the formula on that parchment?" Hans pointed at the method in Vanir's hand.
"Trying it would cost us a hefty sum, Senior. The mana stones you bought might not be enough—“
“The fuck is not enough, it's 100, no 10,000 gold worth.”
"Apparently, that's nothing in golem making," Vanir remarked, preventing Hans's contorted face from swearing further. Hans clenched his heart and parted with his mana stones. As he expected, this was a costly endeavour. They first attempted to create a golem based on the formula from the parchment, but their initial try consumed the mana stone entirely. Their second attempt showed some results; at least the golem took a single step before the circuit depleted the mana stone.
"Come on," Hans shouted, "that's a top-level mana stone—“
"It's not the stones," Vanir commented, "it's our circuit. It's not efficient.”
“So you're telling me I got scammed. These scoundrels must have nine lives," Hans growled, but Vanir stopped him once again. "We must be doing something not right. There's no way the trade centre could dupe their customers."
They tried a few more times and almost succeeded in the end, but sadly they had used all types of mana stones. Only the ground mana type showed the most promising results, and it was darn expensive too. Hans stared at his pendant. "How much can I get by selling a mana ge… what the heck, I'm thinking… this is my treasure." He shook his head, denying his thoughts, and stated, "I'll try to find some money. I have another expensive thing," he said, thinking of what Arat had given him. "I could sell a copy of the weapon's blueprint to the dwarves or the sunstone to the auction house —"
"Senior," Vanir interrupted, "Can't you just ask someone? You are a prince, after all.”
“That old snake will probably give me everything I ask, but my brain screams every time we meet - Stay the fuck away from him. And I agree with it totally. Arat is bad news; he almost convinces me every time we meet."
"Just accept and then ignore it. What could he do? You are their prince, after all," Vanir commented, not fully understanding.
"That's the very reason I can't lie to him. The moment I say yes, I'll be the prince they want, and their problems will become my responsibility. I can't feign ignorance then; it's not right.”
"Just when did you become so principled?" Vanir mumbled, but it was enough for Hans to hear.
"Listen, junior,” Hans turned serious, “There are two things I can't forgo: my promises and my responsibilities. That's why I never make or take them without thinking."
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