The next day:

Standing amidst the rustling trees, Constantine frowned. The forest stretched in all directions as far as he could see, and the crisp air filled his lungs.

The image of the scarred man loomed in his thoughts, making his eyebrows draw together. Annoyance mixed with anger and uneasiness, twisting his gut into knots. If the man knew what Constantine had done, it would mean confrontation—yet, there was none.

‘What is he planning? Or am I just paranoid and overthinking this?’ The man had taunted him even before he killed those bandits. Maybe he read too deeply into his behavior. Perhaps he was just being paranoid. He shook his head. ‘If he comes, so be it. It’s not like he could threaten me. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t come—he knows there’s nothing he can do.’

A bit more assured, he refocused on the experiment before him. “Implant, start recording. The purpose of this test is to determine how the size of runes affects their capacity to conduct mana.”

Firmly grasping the core, he felt it soften under his fingers, oozing with mana. The sensation brought a smile onto his face, making his frown disappear. As the shimmering lines traced themselves onto the skin of his open palm, a warmth ran through him. 'Implant, measure the decrease in the core’s radiation to determine the units of mana spent. Display it in the corner of my vision.' A faint white zero appeared in his vision.

“The first rune,” he began aloud, a rune manifesting on his open palm, “measures approximately the exact same size used in the lightning spell. It is a standard summon rune. Let's call this control scale.”

He directed the core’s energy into the tiny rune, it began to glow faintly. The zero changed to 0.05. There was no discernible effect, as there was nothing connected to it. He broke the circuit, and the core hardened once more. The brief surge of power left a lingering warmth in his hand. He itched for more, his eyes dilated. Yet, he grinted his teeth and continued dictating more notes “No signs of breaking. Implant, restart the counter.”

Constantine took a steady breath and pushed mana into the core. The small marble shrank rapidly, and the rune lit like a Christmas tree. A rush of heat surged up his arm, burning hotter with every passing second. The zero ticked up—0.1.

His arm burned and his eyebrows crossed in a visible discomfort. Yet, the rune didn’t break. He cut off the current, the energy dissipating as the rune dimmed. His body sagged with relief.

Taking a break, he wiped the shimmering droplets of sweat from his forehead. '0.1 units of mana and the rune held up. Implant, reset the counter.'

He took a deep breath, bracing for the next round. He grasped the now smaller core even tighter, straightening his back in anticipation of more pain. Guiding mana into the core, it burst, liquefying in an instant.

The rune glowed brighter, its light searing. Constantine gritted his teeth and pulled harder, forcing more mana into it. The heat in his hand escalated, transforming into a searing pain that crawled up his arm, sinking deep into his bones. The number ticked up to 0.15.

The rune’s light flared, blinding and violent, as cracks raced across its surface like lightning. The rune shattered with a silent crack, and the recoil of the released energy slammed into him like a wave. Constantine’s entire arm trembled, his muscles taut with the effort of maintaining control, leaving him gasping for breath.

Even amidst the pain, he continued, dictating the notes of his observation as a way to calm himself down. 'So 0.15 units of mana—that’s the limit for a summon rune of this size.' His fingers twitched. He wanted to test upscaling the rune, to try a greater variety of them. He wanted to feel mana coursing through him once more.

Clenching his fists, he gritted his teeth and shook his head. 'One core a day. That’s it.' He couldn’t allow himself to exceed the limit except in emergencies. The memory of losing control was still too fresh. He had already seen the impact mana had on his mind and psyche.

The next day:

Constantine gritted his teeth as the old floor creaked beneath him with each pushup. His arms trembled, muscles straining under the weight of his body. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping steadily with each repetition. Finally, fatigue overtook him, and he collapsed onto the floor, breath controlled, yet frustration gnawing at him.

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‘My stamina isn’t the problem. My muscles are just too weak.’

His purified body had given him stamina, but the years of malnutrition left his body underdeveloped. He deliberately avoided using mana during the workout, intent on building strength from within. But the process grated on him—he was a mage, not a soldier. Yet, he knew he couldn’t afford to be weak in this world.

With a determined grunt, he pushed himself back up. ‘In this world, even the smallest edge can mean the difference between life and death,’ he thought, his resolve hardening.

Two days later:

Constantine sat sternly on the remains of a cutdown tree. His gaze was distant and unfocused as he stared at a sea of trees stretching endlessly before him. Besides the rustle of colorful autumn leaves above his head, it was perfectly silent.

His mind ran over all the tests he had done in the previous days. He had consumed a core every day, slowly upscaling the size of his runes and measuring the amount of mana needed to break them. He sighed heavily and ordered, 'Implant, show me the table.'

A white table appeared in the center of his vision. Numbers and text filled it up in the blink of an eye.

<<<<>>>>

Rune scale

Rune breaking point

1x

0.150

1.25x

0.167

1.5x

0.183

With all the results in one place, Constantine scanned the data, his mind whirring. The increase in rune durability slowed as they scaled up—diminishing returns, exactly what he’d feared. His heart sank as hope for an easy solution slipped away.

The numbers were clear: upscaling runes wasn’t efficient. Larger runes required exponentially more mana and more space to create only slight durability gains. The inefficiency made creating stronger spells to handle more mana impractical. It would also make spell circuits bulky and large. ‘So this is the limit of rune scaling,’ he thought, frustration gnawing at him. ‘It has its uses, but alone it isn’t the solution I am looking for.’

He leaned back, eyes closed, trying to think. His mind tangled in frustration. The idea of density flickered in his mind. If he couldn’t make the runes larger, maybe he could make them denser. ‘If scaling up the size won’t work... maybe scaling up the quality will.’

The concept had merit. Higher-density, more concentrated mana could bypass size inefficiencies. Denser runes could hold more energy without disintegrating, allowing him to feed more mana into his spells. Albeit, the problem was that it was much harder to control and shape liquid mana.

Putting his hand beneath his chin, he kept thinking, ‘Mixing in a bit of liquid mana. Just a bit so it would still be controllable might be the needed difference. A good compromise between durability of runes and ease to draw them.’

Pacing the forest with his gaze, he wasn’t content with just a single idea and kept thinking. ‘Increasing mana quality might work. But, what if instead of making the runes larger, I make their lines thicker? Like making the font bold.’

He grinned, a flicker of excitement lighting up his eyes. The idea was simple but clever. Thickening the lines could allow him to channel more mana into the same rune without increasing its overall size.

“Implant, show me the catalog of all my runes. Display them in a grid,” he ordered, imagining thicker, bolder runes. As the runs filled his view, he nodded. “Now bolden their lines.”

But as the lines thickened, his excitement faded. Some finer details vanished, buried beneath the thicker strokes. His heart sank and his smile vanished. He wasn’t even sure what effect the missing smaller details would have on the runes. Would they even trigger? Would their effects change?

‘I may as well enter a chemistry lab and start randomly mixing the contents of a chemical cabinet. That’s asking for a catastrophe to happen. This won’t work,’ he thought. ‘Most of the runes are too delicate—thickening their lines just turns them into a mess. Maybe making the lines only a bit thicker might work.’

His mind raced, searching for more solutions. His gaze landed on two runes—Summon and Move. They were simpler, their shapes intact even with the thicker lines. ‘Summon and Move. These look intact. So if the boldening works, they might be easy to scale.’ he mused.

Suddenly, he stood up, his eyes wide—he got a perfect idea: ‘Each of those solutions alone is imperfect. Maybe I can combine them? Make some runes larger, some denser, and some bold. It might work great for more complex spells.’

He nodded, a plan forming. 'Foremost, I need more data. There are still a couple of tests needed for a clear conclusion.’ He didn’t know if all the runes shared the same breaking point or if bold runes were even feasible. But now, at least, he had a couple of good potential solutions.