THE PROBLEM OF MP STORAGE

An excerpt from a lecture by Lecturer of Magic, Orwell Trias, of the State University of Icasius-Artemia:

***

Many have tried, and none have succeeded. It is, of course, the great problem of MP storage.

If we had MP storage, there will be no need of half-measures as storing energy in other forms: raised earth, compressed air, or even molten sand. From there, with our most advanced technologies, we use mechanical engines to convert those into other forms of energy. Our mechanical engines, however, can only bring us so far! They constantly leak energy, and in the end, we only recover 10 to 20% of the energy originally summoned with the MP.

Imagine what we can do with MP storage! 100% energy conversion, on-demand! Surely, whoever discovers the solution would become the wealthiest man on Gaia… Of course, its secrets are beyond our reach. Chances will be that you will be thinking of all the same ideas as our predecessors. Our young country has had its fair share of eclectic researchers and inventors, after all.

For example, would it not be convenient if one could store magic using magic? This idea has existed for far longer than our country, extending back to the first magical kingdoms. Those with magic invention Skills have attempted to construct spells with direct instructions to store magic. Obviously, had they succeeded, we would be living in disgusting prosperity right now. They found that all MP going into the spell simply disappeared.

Ostensibly, they are “returned” to the “Source of Magic,” according to Mana Theory. Of course, Mana Theory, itself, is standing on fragile stilts. We have no substantial proof of it, despite its intuitive fundamentals. Unfortunately, we have no better theories. If anyone here has a breakthrough theory, please see me later. (Audience laughter.)

Some of you might now be thinking, “Ah! But we have artifacts capable of directly deflecting magic, do we not? Why cannot there be an artifact capable of simply containing it?”—and you would be wrong. We are not even certain how magic-interacting artifacts function. Mana Theory posits the existence of fundamental particles that co-annihilate, and if you were to believe that, then obviously, artifacts simply produce whatever mana is needed to counteract the opponent’s magic.

Where, then, does that mana come from? If the opponent’s magic—their mana—comes from their MP, then where do artifacts, which do not have MP, get their mana from? They certainly do not draw it from the environment, nor do they draw it from nearby living beings. It seems that either our Mana Theory is incomplete—or fundamentally wrong.

Yes, you there … I see. Yes, we definitively know these things about artifacts from the notes of one Hero Researcher in the ancient past, who had spent decades slaying all manner of incredible monsters, all to reach the ceiling of the Appraise Skill—yes? … Yes, we see no reason to discredit her observations. Her final act, after all, was to Appraise the universe, and the madness doomed her to suicide.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

As I was saying, there are no known artifacts capable of containing MP. If anyone has one, please see me later. (Audience laughter.)

***

MAGICAL MANUFACTURING

Kalender did the math. Introducing gunnery to this world wouldn’t actually be that concerning.

First, everyone was armed all the time. Second, there were far deadlier things already in widespread use, and somebody, somewhere, apparently already made the things he wanted to make.

Jyn had talked about purpose-made ranged weapons that could pierce through a city’s defensive wall, and magically-reinforced armor that could withstand the same. Magic, it appeared, was a great equalizer in many different senses.

Introducing airguns to this world was about on the same level of impact as introducing crossbows to a civilization that only used bows. Advantages and disadvantages played out rather evenly, and it just ended up being a preference thing. The actual deadliness of the weapon, as well, remained about the same as any beginner spell.

What Kalender didn’t want to spread around, though, was his version of magical 3D printing.

Lyrica was prosperous. Despite the Medieval-esque society and the unequal social structure, the average citizen enjoyed a consistent food supply, well-maintained roads, and a distinct lack of bandits. Even villages had sewerage! The level of civil engineering prowess in this country, no doubt supported by the existence of magic, made things like plumbing “obvious” to have.

On the other hand, the manufacturing of goods was concentrated in workshops and, at best, small-scale factories. After Jyn’s mentioning of how clay bullets were typically made—in batches using autoclaves run with magic circles—it sounded a lot like most Lyrican manufacturing technology was stuck at “mass produce or go broke,” and only because they couldn’t develop new magic circles.

The fact was that he could make up new magic circles on the spot to make anything. There was no more-overpowered manufacturing technology than “box with funnel”—raw materials went in, and finished products came out. Nothing could be more magical than that.

Of course, it didn’t have to occur in a closed box. Watching chunks of broken swords get melted down, fly around, and form into the shape of a handgun was pretty fun to watch, after all. Though, it wasn’t fun to consider that maybe Page would poke at the molten steel, so enclosing the whole thing in a box was a minimum safety measure.

One would imagine the magic circle encoding all this stuff to be quite complicated—but it wasn’t. As a former programmer, Kalender valued simplicity, and sometimes, the best solution wasn’t to come up with something tailor-made for the occasion, but a more generalized, Swiss-army-knife solution.

In short, the magic circle read: {Read the schematic on top of this and make it.}

Surprisingly, it also worked on shifty sketches. The urge to not question just why it works as it did was pretty intense … but still! What even counted as a ‘schematic’? How did magic know to read it? Why did it understand SI units? He confirmed that anyone else could activate the magic circle with his schematics, and it all worked just the same. It didn’t mean magic wasn’t pulling the interpretation out of his brain, but at least Jyn and Page could use them if needed.

After some improvements, such as a restriction for where it could get materials from (may Lens’s kitchen knife find peace), Kalender decided never to write it on anything that wasn’t self-destructing paper.