Chapter 15: Cognitive Weaving

Lia extended her right hand, palm facing forward.

An invisible force field materialized before her, several times more stable than her initial attempts.

Mage Hand.

The field of force reached out gently, precisely grasping the smallest of the gears.

The gear hovered in mid-air, rotating slowly.

Lia’s eyes darted across the schematic.

Drawing upon her formidable mental strength as a foundation, she constructed a complete three-dimensional model of the clock in her mind.

She split her focus into two streams: one to maintain the stability of the Mage Hand, the other to simulate each step of the assembly in her mind.

The force field carried the gear toward the brass disc that served as the base.

The gear’s axle aligned perfectly with a small hole on the disc.

There was not the slightest deviation.

The gear was set smoothly into place.

Next came the second component, a longer bearing.

The Mage Hand lifted it and threaded it through the center of the first gear.

Then the third, and the fourth.

The only sounds in the room were the soft clicks of metal components being gently set into place.

Klein stood to the side, observing it all.

His gaze was not on the parts, but on Lia’s face.

The girl’s expression was intent, her mental fluctuations uncannily steady for a novice.

The invisible Mage Hand moved as if it were an extension of her own body—deft and stable.

Sand trickled silently through the hourglass on the table.

Bit by bit, the clock’s internal mechanism took shape under Lia’s control.

The escape wheel, the pallet fork, the balance wheel.

These were the most delicate parts, the ones most prone to error, yet the Mage Hand lifted each one and fitted them together in perfect alignment.

As the final component was installed in the center of the clock face, only a few grains of sand remained in the hourglass.

Lia directed the Mage Hand to gently release the tightly wound mainspring.

Click.

A soft sound.

The second hand on the clock face began to tick, moving from one mark to the next with a steady rhythm.

Success.

Lia let out a breath she’d been holding, and the Mage Hand she had maintained for an hour dissipated instantly.

The excessive drain on her mental energy left her feeling a wave of dizziness.

Klein stepped forward and picked up the brass clock, which had already begun to keep time correctly.

He inspected it. Flawless.

“Very good.”

He placed the clock back on the table.

Then, from an inner pocket of his mage robes, he produced a palm-sized notebook with a plain, black hardcover.

It bore no ornamentation, save for a family crest branded onto the bottom-right corner of the cover.

“This is for you.”

He handed the notebook to Lia.

Lia took it, noting the peculiar sensation as it settled in her hands.

She opened it to the first page.

Inside, the pages were completely blank, the paper fine and delicate, shimmering with a faint magical aura.

“It’s made from the pulp of Moonwood mixed with mithril dust. It can bear high-intensity mental imprints.”

“From now on, you can write your thoughts in it directly with your mind.”

Lia’s eyes lit up.

This was far more advanced than parchment.

“Thank you, Mentor.”

“Your control over your mental energy is adequate,” Klein said, looking at her. “But the total amount you possess is still too weak.”

Lia nodded. It was true.

“Meditation is too inefficient,” Klein said. “That method is only suitable for beginners to perceive mana.”

“Starting today, you will train using a new method.”

Klein raised a finger, and a point of light ignited at its tip.

The point of light stretched and morphed in the air, quickly forming a perfect cube.

“Watch it.”

Lia’s attention was captivated by the cube of light.

“The essence of mental energy is the ability to process and bear information.”

“Step one: construct an identical cube in your mind. Don’t just imagine it—construct it. You must be able to ‘see’ every edge, every corner, every face.”

Lia closed her eyes and attempted to replicate the model in her mindscape.

This was simpler than constructing the Mage Hand.

Soon, a sharply defined cube formed of pure mental energy took shape in her mind.

“Good.” Klein’s voice seemed to echo directly in her mind. “Now, for step two.”

The cube of light in the air suddenly split down the middle, becoming eight smaller, equal-sized cubes.

The eight smaller cubes remained tightly arranged, forming the larger cube once more.

“Perform the same division on your model. You must maintain the form of all eight smaller cubes. Do not let a single one collapse.”

Lia’s brow furrowed.

The difficulty had just jumped by more than a single level.

She tried to divide the large cube in her mind.

Lines of mental energy converged at the center, attempting to partition the internal structure.

Hum.

She had barely managed to divide it into four when the entire model began to tremble violently before shattering completely.

Lia let out a muffled groan, a sharp pain lancing through her mind as if she’d been stabbed with a needle.

“Your mental energy is insufficient to handle eight separate models simultaneously,” Klein pointed out. “This is your limit.”

“I call this training ‘Cognitive Weaving’.”

“Phase one is Static Construction. You begin with one cube and continuously subdivide it. One becomes eight, eight become sixty-four, and so on, until you can stably maintain five hundred and twelve cubes in your mind at once.”

Five hundred and twelve?

Lia felt it was an utterly impossible task.

“Phase two is Dynamic Calculation.”

Klein gave her no time to ponder this, continuing his explanation.

One of the eight small cubes in the air suddenly began to move.

It traveled in a straight line, crossing the space of the larger cube with constant acceleration.

“Apply your formulas to it,” Klein said. “In your mind, select one of the small cubes and make it move with uniform motion. Your mental energy must simultaneously calculate its trajectory and simulate its motion.”

Lia was stunned.

Using physics formulas to train mental energy?

“Those formulas of yours are not merely tools to describe the world,” Klein said, his eyes on her. “They are the finest method for tempering the mind. Every parameter, every variable, is a test of your computational ability.”

“When you can make sixty-four cubes move simultaneously within your mind, each following one of sixty-four different motion formulas without a single collision, only then will you have completed the second phase.”

Lia was speechless.

“Phase three is Mana Circulation.”

The light at Klein’s fingertip grew brighter.

The moving cube became coated in a faint, magical glow.

“Infuse your mana into the model undergoing dynamic calculation. Let the mana flow along its trajectory, forming a complete circuit.”

“Your mind is responsible for calculation and construction; your mana is responsible for the flow of energy. When your mind can perfectly command your mana, allowing it to run stably through complex logical models, your casting speed and the power of your spells will far surpass those of your peers.”

Klein withdrew his hand, and the cube of light vanished from the air.

“From this day forward, all the time you would have spent on meditation will be dedicated to training in Cognitive Weaving.”

“When you complete the first phase, I will teach you your next spell.”

Having said his piece, Klein turned to leave.

“Mentor,” Lia called out, stopping him.

Klein looked back.

“This method… did you devise it yourself?”

Klein looked at her, neither confirming nor denying it.

“It is the method best suited for you.”

With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Lia stood alone in the room, processing the immense amount of information she had just received.

She sat down cross-legged and closed her eyes.

Within her mindscape, she began the attempt once more.

A cube formed, stable and solid.

Then, the division.

She carefully extended her mental energy into the model’s interior, drawing the first dividing line.

The model began to wobble.

Lia gritted her teeth, focusing all her will on keeping it stable.

A second line, a third, a fourth.

By the time the four lines representing the central plane were complete, cutting the cube into eight pieces, most of her mental energy was already spent.

The model teetered on the brink of collapse, threatening to shatter at any moment.

But this time, it held.

Fine beads of sweat dotted her forehead, but she couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from curling into a smile.

So this was what it felt like to grow stronger.