Chapter 33: Forced Disconnection

How could she use her magical weapon to leverage her constitution’s advantage in total magic power and help Vapgis improve scroll production efficiency?

Hmm, a practical problem.

Aurora channeled her inner spirit, and what answered was her past self from her previous life, the one who had studied hard.

She grabbed a piece of parchment and sketched a few rough drawings, organizing her thoughts as she drew.

Such wasteful behavior made Vapgis’s eyes twitch.

The current way of making scrolls was essentially printing: printing the spell model built in one’s mind onto parchment.

But this printer had a fatal flaw: the ink cartridge was single-use.

Every time you “printed,” a spell slot was expended. Vapgis had to re-enter meditation and reconstruct the model. It was like having to create a new cartridge from scratch for every page printed.

No, that analogy was still not low-level enough.

Aurora crossed out the sketch and started over.

Back to the old craft: block printing.

A spell model was a combination of information and energy. The information was the block, the energy was the ink, and the parchment was the paper.

In normal block printing, you dipped the block in ink, pressed it onto paper, and the block remained. As long as you replenished the ink, you could keep printing.

That was because the information was carried by the physical block and had nothing to do with the ink.

But in a spell model, the information relied on the magical net structure, in other words, on mana.

If all the mana went into the scroll, the information naturally disappeared.

Instinctively, Aurora thought of separating the “block” and the “ink” so the block could be reused.

Vapgis would provide the spell model, and Aurora would provide the mana.

She set to work immediately.

The magical weapon granted by the contract was practically in creative mode, able to change shape at will.

Aurora poured mana into it, kneading and shaping it repeatedly. She molded it, scattered it, then molded it again. After some effort, she finally shaped something that satisfied her.

The finished product looked like an elongated shovel, or a tiny desk embedded on a long handle.

The handle end was where Aurora held it. Mana flowed from there into the magical weapon, traveled along the shaft to the platform at the other end, soaking the entire writing surface.

The principle wasn’t complicated.

Normally when making a scroll, mana started from Vapgis’s body, traveled through her arm, flowed into the pen tip, and then was transferred onto parchment via magic ink.

But now, Aurora’s mana had already filled the entire writing desk surface. The parchment was laid on top, with Aurora’s energy waiting beneath.

Vapgis only needed to touch the pen tip to it and output a tiny amount of mana as a “trigger signal.” That would guide Aurora’s mana on the desk to flow according to Vapgis’s spell model, completing the engraving.

“Look,” Aurora said excitedly, pointing at the magic scroll printer for Vapgis to see. “This way, you can reuse the spell model multiple times. Can it speed up scroll making?”

Vapgis looked at her excited friend and employer, a troubled expression on her face.

“Um… it won’t work?”

“Huh?”

“A spell model is a complete magical net structure. Even one missing part and it will explode. Whether you spend a tenth of your mana or all of it, the result is the same. It’s obvious you didn’t pay attention in class…”

The models recorded in spell books were structures refined over generations, optimal and minimal. Not even a tiny variation was allowed.

Vapgis pressed her palms together. “Modifying the original structure must be done with extreme caution.”

“What about adding a bit of expendable redundancy?”

Vapgis stared at her.

Meaning: “Do I look like I have the ability for that?”

“Fine, I’ll think of another way.” Aurora clicked her tongue, crumpled the used parchment carelessly, and tossed it aside.

Just then, Balian came in to bring Aurora breakfast.

He entered silently with a tray, setting the breakfast within easy reach of Aurora.

On the tray was hot oatmeal, sizzling bacon, and several slices of fruit, arranged as delicately as if serving a princess from some kingdom.

“Miss, it’s time to eat.”

“Mhm, I’ll eat after I’m done.”

Vapgis stared longingly at the breakfast, and her stomach growled at the right moment.

She complained, “It’s so nice to be a young lady. Not like me. I have to go to the kitchen and find something to eat myself.”

“We prepared food this morning, but you didn’t eat it.”

“If there’s delicious food, why would I eat that? I won’t do it.”

Aurora was still engrossed in improving the magic scroll printer. Without raising her head, she said to Vapgis, “Didn’t I give you a voucher? Go find someone to collect the money and buy your own food.”

“Since when does a guest have to buy their own meals when visiting someone’s home?”

“My dad’s got a screw loose. Don’t mind him,” Aurora said.

Seeing this, Balian quickly grabbed Aurora’s arm to stop her. “Miss, he is still your father. It’s not good to say such things in front of outsiders.”

Aurora struggled and shook off Balian’s arm, shouting, “I’m not the one saying it! A Prime Minister who is so timid, who refuses the king’s salary, even pays out of pocket to work.”

Balian shot Aurora repeated meaningful glances, but unfortunately, in her anger, Aurora didn’t notice at all.

“Even if he has no money, he can’t do anything when others give him a cold shoulder. The queen is so arrogant, and he can’t even teach her a lesson…”

“Cough, cough, cough.”

(Deep male voice, full of vigor, sounding like a middle-aged man who exercises regularly.)

The only person in the Olivia Marquis’ mansion who fit that description was the Marquis himself.

The room instantly fell silent.

Ed paced to the doorway, crossed his arms, leaned against the doorframe, and wore a neutral expression.

Aurora quickly replayed what she had just said.

Eep. Can this be reconciled?

Her facial muscles twitched slightly as she struggled to maintain her composure.

“Oh, it’s my wise and mighty father. Good morning,” Aurora called out dryly.

“It’s afternoon. I told you to sleep on time.”

“Ah, as they say, one may be humble but never forgets the nation’s troubles. Last night I worked hard drafting proposals…”

Aurora rapidly adjusted her expression, trying to get by with an innocent smile. Meanwhile, Vapgis had already quietly moved to the corner of the room.

Unexpectedly, Marquis Ed didn’t get angry. He took over Aurora’s words and said, “I’ve read what you mentioned.”

“I think it’s feasible. I’ll have people cooperate with you.”

He glanced at Vapgis, who was shrinking like a quail, then at Balian, who stood with hands at his sides.

“But you still aren’t allowed to go anywhere.”

Aurora sighed in relief and made a mental “yes.”

The outcome was exactly what she had expected.

As long as the bakery construction project got Ed’s approval, she could use the Prime Minister’s name (her father) to mobilize resources within the city, meeting the needs of the guild and any potential collaborators.

As for being grounded? It didn’t matter.

She couldn’t go out, so she could just have the guild send someone over.

“Also,” Ed changed the subject. “His Majesty the King will be hosting the Autumn Hunt and Jousting Tournament this month. According to tradition, all noble families are required to attend.”

He turned to Balian, his tone shifting to pure superior-to-subordinate. “Balian, summon the best tailor in the city tomorrow. Since she is representing House Olivia, Aurora’s attire cannot be shabby.”

“Yes, Marquis.” Balian replied respectfully, then added with complete naturalness, “Miss prefers robes and long skirts, which aren’t suitable for riding. I will remind the tailor to take note.”

Aurora swallowed the “mind your own business” that was on the tip of her tongue. This was clearly not the time to bicker with Balian.

She turned to her father, trying to struggle in desperation. “When exactly does it start? So I can mentally prepare.”

“The camp breaks at dawn on the day after tomorrow,” Ed answered sharply, leaving no room for negotiation. “The location is the Royal Hunting Grounds. According to past practice, it’s a fully enclosed hunt, lasting two to three weeks.”

Two to three weeks?

The tiny flame of construction in Aurora’s heart was instantly drenched by this bucket of cold water, chilling her to the bone.

The hunting grounds were in a forest far from the plains, a day or two away from Frania.

Going to a godforsaken place like the Royal Hunting Grounds meant she would be completely cut off from the capital.

She had just set up the “bakery” project and was about to remotely direct the guild’s local powers to dig deeper into the “Happy Water” leads. And now she was being dragged into wilderness survival?

A half-month away. Forget investigating the case. By the time she returned, even the scraps of clues would have been swept clean.

This wasn’t a vacation. It was a forced internet shutdown.

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