Chapter 54: The Divine Chessboard of Elements

Lia met Adèle’s gaze, eyes burning with a fervent intensity, and felt the silent, yet profoundly heavy, stare from Klein beside her.

“Yes, senior sister.”

She spoke, her voice clear.

“Yes, there is.”

These two simple affirmations instantly quelled Adèle’s mounting agitation.

Her breathing steadied, her eyes now reflecting nothing but a profound yearning.

“You… you actually know?”

“It’s not about what I know,” Lia countered, shaking her head as she gestured towards the row of elemental vials.

“You’ve posed the wrong question. Instead of asking why they appear as they do, you should inquire into what fundamentally determines their very nature.”

Adèle froze, meticulously pondering the subtle distinction embedded in Lia’s words.

“Color, form, toxicity… these are merely their superficial manifestations,” Lia explained, approaching the row of bottles and letting her gaze sweep over each one in turn.

“The ancient text’s author posited that there exists only a single, fundamental distinction separating all elements at their very core.”

She paused, and under the two women’s intensely focused gazes, she pronounced a completely novel term.

“It is their ‘atomic weight’.”

“Atomic weight?”

Both Adèle and Klein silently repeated the utterly unfamiliar term in their minds.

“The tome states that every element is fundamentally composed of a unique, foundational particle known as an ‘atom’,” Lia elucidated. “And ‘atomic weight’ refers to the relative mass of these atoms.”

Adèle’s brow furrowed even deeper. “Relative mass? But… atoms are invisible. How could one possibly weigh them?”

This, indeed, was the most profound challenge, an insurmountable chasm that could not be bypassed.

“We don’t need to ascertain their absolute mass,” Lia stated, her logic terrifyingly precise.

“We simply require a standard. Much like we employ a ruler to gauge length or days to measure time, we need a ‘scale’ by which to quantify atomic mass.”

She casually picked up a small piece of charcoal from the experimental bench.

“Consider this, for instance: carbon. It’s ubiquitous, and its properties are remarkably stable. The ancient author, in a stroke of genius, chose to define the mass of a carbon atom as ’12’.”

“Why precisely 12?” Adèle immediately pressed.

“…The author simply stated he favored the number,” Lia replied, maintaining an utterly straight face as she fabricated the reason.

“Once this standard is established, the atomic masses of other elements can then be precisely determined through their chemical reactions.”

She gestured towards Adèle’s meticulously kept experiment logs.

“Observe this: you used carbon to heat iron ore, subsequently yielding iron.

If we could precisely measure how many parts by weight of iron are displaced from the ore for every 12 parts by weight of carbon consumed, this exact ratio would reveal the mass relationship between iron and carbon atoms.”

Adèle’s eyes instantly ignited with comprehension!

She understood!

This was a concept so brilliant it sent shivers down her spine! To infer the relative masses of microscopic particles by analyzing the macroscopic reaction ratios of substances!

Yet, this flash of insight persisted for only an instant before rapidly fading into gloom.

“No, this won’t work…” Adèle’s countenance fell, a look of despair settling upon her.

“It’s impossible. My scales lack the necessary precision, and there are always losses during reaction processes. I cannot guarantee complete reactions of all substances, nor can I accurately collect all the resulting products.

The final calculation would be plagued by such significant errors as to render it utterly meaningless.”

Her assessment was undeniably correct.

Given the rudimentary experimental capabilities of this era, attempting such precise quantitative analysis was tantamount to a deluded fantasy.

A heavy silence descended upon the alchemy lab.

It was then that Klein, who had remained as motionless and silent as a statue, finally spoke.

“I will do it.”

Both Adèle and Lia turned to him simultaneously.

Klein stepped forward to the experimental bench, extending his hand, palm facing upwards.

A globule of silvery-white liquid metal — mercury — silently floated from its vial, hovering above his outstretched palm, where, under the precise control of his spiritual power, it coalesced into a perfectly flawless sphere.

“The loss of substance can be mitigated by constructing an invisible reaction vessel using a repulsion field, thereby completely isolating its interior from the external environment.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than an almost imperceptible ripple shimmered in the air around the mercury sphere, and an absolutely sealed space instantly materialized.

“The purity of the reaction can be ensured through elemental separation spells, purifying the substances to guarantee that both reactants and products are entirely free of impurities.”

“As for measurement…”

A faint, ethereal blue glow emanated from his fingertips, coalescing into a shimmering net woven from countless runes, which gently enveloped the mercury sphere.

The luminous net flickered, then vanished as if it had never been.

“Mass: thirty-four point five-seven grams. Volume: two point five-five cubic centimeters. The margin of error will not exceed one ten-thousandth.”

Klein lifted his gaze to Lia, a faint, knowing smile gracing his lips, his deep blue eyes as profound as the night sky.

“Now, tell me what the first step should be.”

Lia’s heart gave a sudden, powerful lurch.

Magic!

This, she realized, was the true and proper application of magic!

To substitute spiritual power for delicate instruments, to govern reaction variables with intricate spells!

The fusion of scientific theory with magical prowess!

This was nothing short of an utterly unfair, heaven-defying cheat!

“Senior sister!” Lia exclaimed, spinning around, her eyes sparkling with exhilaration as she addressed Adèle. “Retrieve all your detailed experimental procedures and data! We shall repeat them anew!”

Over the next few days, the alchemy laboratory on the third floor buzzed with renewed activity.

Adèle was tasked with contributing the invaluable experience she had accumulated over two months concerning various elemental reactions.

Lia, meanwhile, took charge of designing the experimental protocols and proposing theoretical models.

Klein, for his part, was solely responsible for the precise measurements.

He possessed the ability to conjure an absolutely sealed reaction vessel using a repulsion field.

He could precisely measure every single milligram of reactant through the sheer force of his spiritual power.

He could accelerate reactions with spells, guaranteeing their complete and pristine execution.

For the first time, Lia viscerally grasped the formidable power of an Eighth-Ring Archmage.

The intricate experiments that, in her previous life, would have demanded an entire cutting-edge laboratory and the exhaustive efforts of countless researchers, were, in Klein’s hands, merely a matter of combining a few spell models.

With his unparalleled assistance, the relative atomic masses for numerous elements were systematically calculated.

Lia, in turn, undertook the task of assigning them names.

Hydrogen: 1.01

Helium: 4.00

Lithium: 6.94

…

As the atomic masses of over twenty elements were meticulously determined and inscribed onto individual cards, Adèle’s hands began to tremble with profound excitement.

In her eyes, these seemingly cold, abstract numbers possessed a beauty more captivating than the most resplendent jewels in the world.

“What comes next, Lia? What is our next step?” she asked, her voice imbued with an eager tremor.

“Arrangement.”

Lia drew the card labeled “Hydrogen” from the stack and placed it precisely in the center of the otherwise empty table.

“We will arrange them, one by one, in ascending order of their atomic mass, forming a single row.”

Card after card was systematically laid out upon the table.

Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon…

As the eleventh card, “Sodium,” was positioned, Lia gently laid a hand on Adèle’s arm, stopping her.

“Wait.”

She picked up the card inscribed with “Sodium, Atomic Mass 22.99” and, instead of placing it sequentially after “Neon,” she initiated a new row, positioning it precisely beneath “Lithium.”

Adèle instinctively reached to move the card back to its numerical position after “Neon,” but Lia’s hand remained firm.

“Wait, Lia,” Adèle interjected, her voice laced with confusion. “This disrupts the sequence! Aren’t we arranging them in ascending order of atomic mass?”

“Senior sister, observe,” Lia prompted, gesturing between “Lithium” and “Sodium.” “Both are metals, highly reactive, and both react violently upon contact with water. They share striking similarities, do they not?”

Adèle nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression dawning upon her face.

As she gazed at “Lithium” and “Sodium,” her mind instantly conjured vivid images of their identical violent reactions and the burning golden flames that erupted when they were dropped into water.

A hitherto vague connection, obscured as if by a thick mist, began to sharpen into clarity.

Following this, Lia picked up “Magnesium” and positioned it directly beneath “Beryllium.”

“These two are also metals,” Lia explained, “though notably more stable than Lithium and Sodium.”

One after another, Lia carefully selected cards and positioned them in a new row.

When the second row was completed, culminating with “Argon,” Lia once again initiated a new row, placing “Potassium” directly beneath “Sodium.”

“Potassium… like sodium, reacts violently with water…” Adèle murmured to herself, her breathing becoming uncontrollably shallow and rapid.

A pattern!

A sacred, underlying order, concealed beneath the seemingly chaotic properties of the elements, was slowly, majestically revealing itself before her very eyes!

Viewed horizontally, there was a steady increase in atomic mass.

Viewed vertically, however, there lay an astonishing similarity in properties!

The highly reactive alkali metals, the chemically similar alkaline earth metals, the potent halogens, and the utterly inert noble gases that refused all reactions…

They were akin to long-lost relatives, each one, under Lia’s careful hand, being restored to their rightful place, finally finding their position within the grand family lineage.

In the entire room, the only sounds were the soft rustle and gentle taps of cards being placed onto the table.

Adèle was utterly speechless.

She stared, transfixed, at the gradually forming table on the desktop, feeling an profound tremor ripple through her very soul.

This was no mere table that a mortal could conceive.

This was, unmistakably… a divine chessboard, used by the gods themselves to fashion the world!

At last, every discovered elemental card had been meticulously arranged. An incomplete yet strikingly clear tabular structure lay before the astonished trio.

Lia exhaled a long, measured breath.

Adèle remained utterly motionless, her gaze fixed upon the table, as if a most fervent devotee beholding a sacred miracle.

Klein had stood silently by, not uttering a single word from beginning to end.

But in his spiritual world, a storm more terrifying than any forbidden curse had already been stirred.

He looked at that table, at those neatly arranged elements, and he saw far more than Adèle.

He saw order.

He saw structure.

And he saw… prophecy!

This table not only summarized the known world but also illuminated the path to the unknown!

Lia extended a finger, tapping the empty space on the table between “Calcium” and “Titanium.”

“Here.”

Her voice was soft.

“According to this pattern, there should exist an element here that we have not yet discovered.”

Lia lifted her head, meeting two gazes filled with overwhelming shock, but she did not immediately provide the answer. Instead, she turned to Adèle, posing a question.

“Senior sister, what do you think its atomic mass would approximately be?”

Adèle’s breath hitched. She looked at “Calcium (40.08)” and “Titanium (47.87)” on either side of the empty space, then glanced at “Magnesium (24.31)” above it, her voice dry as she speculated, “…Between 40 and 48? Perhaps… around 44?”

“Absolutely correct.” Lia’s lips curved into a smile of approval, her gaze returning to the blank space.

“So, what about its properties?”

This time, an unprecedented brilliance erupted in Adèle’s eyes; she almost blurted out her answer, “It’s below ‘Beryllium’ and ‘Magnesium’! So it must also be a metal! Its properties will be similar to theirs!”

“Precisely,” Lia affirmed, her voice imbued with the certainty of declaring a profound truth.

“It will be a silvery-white metal, denser than calcium but less dense than titanium. Its chemical properties will resemble those of ‘Beryllium’ and ‘Magnesium’ above it, but it will be even more reactive…”

With each property Lia articulated, Adèle’s face grew paler, not from fear, but from the immense reverence inspired by witnessing such a divine revelation.