Chapter 16: The Shattering of Old Beliefs

The latest issue of ‘Arcane Principles’ was delivered to the High Tower by a messenger.

Adèle retrieved the journal, her footsteps hurried as she crossed the hall, not even pausing to scold Martin for his discarded experimental waste as she usually would.

She placed the journal, its cover emblazoned with the Magic Association’s emblem, on the desk before Lia.

“It’s here.”

Lia paused her ‘Mind Weaving’ training within her mental world and opened her eyes.

Her gaze settled upon the journal’s cover.

In the most prominent position, a line of gilded script, rendered in elegant calligraphy, proclaimed:

An Astonishing Theory from a Prodigious Apprentice

A Preliminary Discussion on the Laws of Motion.

Authored by: Lia.

Supervising Mage: Klein.

Lia’s finger gently traced her own name, the ink cool beneath her touch.

She knew that a stone cast into a tranquil lake had only now truly begun to ripple its surface.

***

Simultaneously, in the Royal Capital.

The Grand Library.

Mage Edgar reclined in a soft armchair by the window, the sunlight illuminating his light golden hair. He gently swirled the red tea in his cup as he opened the newly delivered issue of ‘Arcane Principles’.

He habitually checked the table of contents first.

His gaze swept past several papers on alchemical catalysts and elemental shaping stability, finally resting on the very first entry.

“Laws of Motion?”

Edgar noted the title, then glanced at the unfamiliar author’s name.

‘An apprentice?’

His interest piqued, he turned directly to the main body of the text.

The paper’s format immediately captured his attention.

Abstract.

“This paper, through theoretical derivation and experimental verification, proposes that the change in an object’s velocity is independent of its mass, and presents five fundamental formulas describing this uniformly accelerated motion.”

It was direct and to the point, leading with its conclusions.

Edgar straightened in his seat.

Introduction.

“Ancient masters believed that heavier objects fall faster than lighter ones. This theory, one of the foundational axioms of the Forcefield School, has remained without rigorous verification for centuries…”

The prose was calm, yet it struck directly at the core of the matter.

Edgar set down his teacup.

He continued reading, encountering the five exquisitely simple formulas.

Taking up the quill from his desk, he began to derive them himself on a blank piece of parchment.

Each formula’s transformation was perfectly seamless.

Starting from the first, he easily deduced the subsequent four.

A flawless logical loop.

Edgar’s breathing quickened slightly.

He then saw the experimental design section.

Inclined crystal plane.

Lead sphere and mithril sphere.

“To gain more time by utilizing a greater distance…” he murmured a line from the paper, his eyes blazing with light. “Genius!”

He could almost visualize the scene.

Two small spheres of vastly different masses, rolling side-by-side down an absolutely smooth inclined plane.

Thump.

Arriving simultaneously.

Edgar closed his eyes.

Within his mind, the old model of force and motion was violently shaking.

The cornerstone of ‘heavier objects fall faster’ had begun to crack.

A new, simpler, more harmonious rule sought to take its place.

He did not resist.

He lowered his mental defenses, actively embracing this new understanding.

Hum.

A gentle energy surged from the void, pouring into his mental world.

The cracks in the old model were smoothed by this energy, and it was re-constructed according to the new rules.

He felt his spiritual power become significantly more active, and his perception of forcefield elements grew sharper.

The Echo of Truth.

Edgar opened his eyes, exhaling a long breath.

He looked at the author’s name on the paper.

“Lia…”

“Klein, where did you find such a monster? Damn it, why are all my apprentices just slacking off? Is it because I’m not putting enough pressure on them?”

***

Meanwhile, in the office of the School of Abjuration and Defense.

Master Valerius splashed a cup of scalding tea onto the floor.

“Absurd! Utter nonsense!”

Standing before him was a trembling young apprentice named Felix.

Felix had been tasked with delivering the journal.

Master Valerius pointed at the ‘Arcane Principles’ he had flung to the floor, his withered finger trembling with rage.

“A mere wet-behind-the-ears girl! Dares to question the theories of a Master! Has Klein gone mad? Have the Association’s reviewers gone mad too, to allow such rubbish to grace the front page of ‘Arcane Principles’?”

Felix dared not speak.

“Pick it up!” Valerius barked.

Felix quickly retrieved the journal, blowing dust from its cover.

“Read it to me!”

“Yes, Master,” Felix replied, his voice quavering as he opened the first page and began to read.

“Abstract. This paper, through theoretical derivation and experimental…”

“Skip it!” Valerius interrupted impatiently. “Read the important parts!”

Felix found the section on theory and formulas, enunciating each word carefully.

As Valerius listened, the disdain on his face gradually transformed into grim seriousness.

He snatched the journal, beginning to read it himself.

With his vast knowledge, he could naturally discern the logical self-consistency of the five formulas.

Yet, he refused to believe.

“A fancy game of symbols!” he scoffed, “Completely meaningless!”

He continued reading, then came upon the inclined plane experiment.

His pupils constricted.

The experiment was designed with such simplicity, yet it was utterly devastating.

So simple that any mage could simulate it in their mind.

So devastating that no rational person could deny its results.

Valerius’s mind raced.

On one side was the cornerstone of his entire mechanical knowledge system, deeply ingrained in his mind for decades: heavier objects fall faster.

On the other side was an irrefutable experiment, coupled with five logically consistent formulas.

A equals B.

A does not equal B.

Two utterly contradictory conclusions clashed head-on within his mental world.

“Master?” Felix asked, his voice laced with concern upon seeing Valerius’s face turn unnaturally pale and cold sweat bead on his forehead.

Valerius did not respond.

He felt a terrible headache, as if countless needles were churning inside his skull.

Every word in that paper had become a weapon, assaulting his cognitive model.

“Impossible…” he mumbled to himself. “The Master’s theories… cannot be wrong…”

He desperately tried to use his old understanding to suppress the new theory.

But the image of the inclined plane experiment, like a brand, was seared into his mind, refusing to fade.

Two small spheres, rolling side-by-side.

Arriving simultaneously.

Pffft.

A warm liquid flowed from his nostrils, dripping onto the journal’s pages, staining the words ‘Arriving simultaneously’ crimson.

“Master! You’re bleeding from your nose!” Felix shrieked.

Valerius raised a hand, touching his nose.

His hand came away covered in blood.

His vision blurred, and the entire world began to spin.

His mental model was collapsing.

His logical chains were snapping, one by one.

He attempted to stand, but his body no longer obeyed him.

He tried to cast a spell to calm himself, but his mental world was in such chaos that he couldn’t construct any magical model.

The cornerstone he had believed in his entire life was crumbling.

And his own mental world was a grand edifice built upon that very cornerstone.

With the foundation gone, the fate of the edifice was self-evident.

Felix watched his mentor in horror.

Master Valerius’s body began to convulse violently, his hands clutching desperately at his head as inhuman gurgling sounds erupted from his throat.

His eyeballs bulged, bloodshot.

Felix wanted to help, yet he was too terrified.

He had never witnessed such a horrifying sight.

Master Valerius’s struggle did not last long.

Thud.

A muffled thud.

Felix’s body froze.

He stared blankly ahead.

Master Valerius, who had been sitting in the chair just moments ago, was gone.

Only a headless torso remained in the high-backed chair.

Red and white matter splattered the wall behind the chair and the ceiling.

The ‘Arcane Principles’ journal lay on the floor, soaked through with warm blood.

Felix’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide as saucers.

A heavy stench of blood and burning filled the entire room.

After a long silence.

A gut-wrenching scream tore through the tranquility of the School of Abjuration and Defense.