Chapter 11: The Inclined Plane Experiment

The door swung open, and Adèle walked in.

Following behind her was an older-looking apprentice, his face flushed red, each step he took exceptionally heavy.

He carried a massive, grayish-white slab on his back.

A visible aura of magic flowed across its surface—clearly the mana crystal Klein had requested.

Adèle, by contrast, seemed much more at ease.

She held a metal sphere in each hand: a dull lead sphere in her left, and a gleaming mithril sphere in her right.

The apprentice carefully leaned the mana crystal slab against the wall, looking utterly exhausted as he slumped against it, gasping for breath.

Klein paid him no mind, walking directly to the mana crystal slab.

He extended his right hand, fingers splayed, and held it hovering above the slab.

Lia saw countless, minuscule arcane runes stream from his fingertips, blanketing the entire surface like quicksilver.

The slab’s once relatively flat surface began to visibly transform.

An unseen force smoothed away every minor imperfection and texture until the entire slab was polished to a mirror sheen, perfectly reflecting the ceiling’s contours.

The light in the room seemed to brighten, enhanced by the flawless, reflective surface.

Watching this display of precise shaping magic, Master Laplace’s white eyebrows twitched.

Klein retracted his hand, then gave it another light wave.

The heavy mana crystal slab rose silently into the air.

It tilted slowly in the center of the room before settling at roughly a thirty-degree angle, suspended in midair.

A perfect inclined plane had been created.

“Come here,” Klein said to Lia.

Lia walked to his side.

“You do it.” Klein’s command was brief.

He gestured for Lia to place the two spheres herself.

Lia glanced at Laplace, and the old mage offered her an encouraging look.

She walked over to Adèle and held out her hands.

Adèle placed one metal sphere in each of her palms.

They were heavy.

The lead sphere was weighty, causing her wrist to dip.

But the mithril sphere in her other hand was far heavier than she had imagined, more than twice the weight of the identically sized lead sphere.

The two spheres were identical in size, shape, and smoothness; their only differences were material and mass.

Cradling the two spheres, Lia walked step by step toward the suspended mana crystal slab.

Her soft footsteps were the only sound in the room.

Klein’s gaze was locked firmly on her and the spheres in her hands.

Master Laplace stood with his hands behind his back, his expression intent.

Adèle and the other apprentice held their breath; they didn’t know what was about to happen, but the atmosphere was too tense for them to make a sound.

Lia reached the top of the inclined plane.

She took a steadying breath and slowly brought the two spheres to the edge of the smooth crystal surface, holding them at the exact same height.

At this weight, the effects of air resistance were so minuscule as to be negligible.

She released them both at the same instant.

There was not the slightest hesitation.

The lead and mithril spheres rolled down the smooth incline, side by side.

Their speeds increased in perfect sync, like twin brothers connected by an invisible thread.

Every eye in the room followed the two rolling spheres.

Time itself seemed to stretch in that moment.

Thud!

A single, sharp impact rang out.

With no discernible difference to the naked eye, the two spheres struck the magical barrier Klein had placed at the bottom of the incline simultaneously.

The room fell into dead silence.

Adèle and the other apprentice looked completely baffled.

A subtle shift occurred in the muscles of Klein’s face.

The corners of his mouth seemed to want to lift into a smile, but he suppressed the urge, leaving only a slight relaxation in his otherwise tense jawline.

Master Laplace swayed slightly.

He closed his eyes, steadying himself with a hand on the nearby desk, the veins on the back of it standing out sharply.

“Master, are you all right?” Klein’s voice broke the silence.

Laplace waved a hand.

When he opened his eyes again, some of the cloudiness within them seemed to have been washed away, leaving them clearer than before.

“I’m fine,” he said, exhaling.

“It’s just the natural reaction to having one’s entire perception of the world reshaped.

These old bones can take it.”

Klein walked to the inclined plane, not letting Lia do it this time.

He used magic to return the two spheres to the top of the incline, then adjusted the mana crystal slab’s angle, making it gentler.

“Again.”

He released the two spheres himself.

Thud!

Another single, sharp impact.

A simultaneous arrival.

Klein adjusted the angle again, this time making it steeper.

Thud!

Still simultaneous.

The fourth time, the angle was nearly vertical.

Thud!

The fifth time, the angle was minuscule, almost horizontal.

The spheres’ descent was long and slow.

But in the end, as if by prior agreement, they still reached the bottom at the exact same moment.

Thud!

Five experiments, five irrefutable results.

The theory that had been held as an axiom for centuries—”heavier objects fall faster”—was utterly shattered by this simple, undeniable experiment.

With a wave of his hand, Klein sent the mana crystal slab and the two spheres flying back to the corner of the room.

He turned and picked up the parchment covered with five formulas from his desk.

“I will finalize this paper and submit it to Arcane Theory as soon as possible.”

He looked at Laplace.

Laplace met his gaze, his expression growing exceedingly grave.

“Are you certain you want to do this?”

“The truth must be disseminated,” Klein replied.

“I’m not talking about that.”

Laplace’s gaze shifted to Lia.

“Are you certain you want to credit her as the author?”

The air in the room grew tense once more.

Klein didn’t hesitate for a second.

“It was her discovery.

It is only right that her name be on it.”

“Klein!”

Laplace’s tone sharpened.

“Do you have any idea what this means?

A momentary cognitive shock was almost enough to destabilize my own spiritual power.

How do you think those old fossils, who have clung to their beliefs for centuries, will react when they see this paper and this experiment?”

“They will go mad,” Laplace said, enunciating each word.

“The theory is irrefutable.

The experiment is undeniable.

When they realize the cornerstone of their lifelong beliefs is wrong, their mental worlds will collapse.

The pain and hatred born from that collapse will drive them to irrationality.”

“They won’t dare to point their spears at you, but they will blame everything on the one they see as the source—the one who ‘shook the foundations of the world.'”

Laplace pointed at Lia.

“A young apprentice with no background and no means to protect herself.

Do you want to make her an enemy of every conservative mage in existence?”

The color drained from Lia’s face.

She felt as though she hadn’t discovered a scientific law, but had opened Pandora’s Box.

Klein stepped forward, positioning himself in front of Lia, completely shielding her from view.

“I don’t care who they are, or how many of them there are.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but every word echoed clearly in the room.

“I only know one thing: whoever dares to touch her will die.”

Laplace looked at Klein’s unyielding stance, silent for a long moment, before finally letting out a deep sigh.

“You had better be able to back that up.

Once the paper is published, do not let her take a single step out of your tower.”

“She is my apprentice,” Klein replied.

“I’m leaving.”

Laplace said no more.

He took one last look at Lia, sheltered behind Klein, and turned toward the door.

As he reached the doorway, he paused and looked back to say one last thing.

“Klein, you’ve found a true treasure.”

With that, he pushed the door open and disappeared.

Only Klein and the three apprentices remained in the room.

The senior apprentice’s legs had long since gone weak with fear, and Adèle kept her head down, not daring to look at Klein.

“You two, leave,” Klein ordered.

“Yes, Mentor.”

Adèle and the other apprentice fled the room as if escaping.

The heavy door swung shut.

Klein turned and looked at Lia.

His gaze made her skin crawl, and she instinctively took half a step back.

“Mentor…”

“From this day on, you are not to leave the mage tower without my permission.”

Klein’s voice had returned to its usual dispassionate tone.