Chapter 277: The First Breakthrough

Chapter 277: The First Breakthrough

The table was buried beneath stacks of draft paper, intricate alchemy schematics, and countless calculation notes, interspersed with open ancient texts. One volume was flipped to a chapter on spatial architecture, its margins crammed with Luo En’s dense annotations.

Luo En rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept in days.

Since arriving at the Crystal Spire, he’d poured nearly all his free time into refining the Simulation Combat Device.

“I knew Master wouldn’t have rested yet,” Ai Lan said, stepping behind him with a cup of pale green tea exuding faint natural energy. “Perhaps you should take a brief respite.”

Luo En accepted the tea, sipping it as warmth coursed through his body, easing his exhaustion.

“Time waits for no one, Ai Lan,” he murmured. “Especially when the breakthrough is within reach.”

His gaze settled on a gemstone on the table—the Void Gem acquired from the Gambling Stone Shop in the 69th Town. Its surface shimmered with a profound indigo hue, its interior swirling with starlight-like motes. Beside it lay another rare gem: the Phantom Heart Stone. This stone pulsed with a sinister dark green glow, as if it were the still-beating heart of some unknown creature. Together, these two gems had become the linchpins for upgrading the Simulation Combat Device.

His thoughts drifted back to the day months ago when Soren had given him the original blueprints. Then, he’d been consumed by visions of innovation and improvement.

“Far harder than I imagined,” he muttered.

During the month aboard the airship, he’d tested countless redesigns, only to hit wall after wall. The biggest hurdles were mana supply and spatial constraints. Traditional Simulation Combat Devices required entire rooms and complex mana networks sustained by multiple alchemists. Shrinking it into a portable device while retaining full function was an unprecedented challenge.

“Remember when we tried?” Luo En asked, gazing at the scattered blueprints with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I thought I’d finally found the breakthrough.”

Ai Lan nodded. “The mana structure collapsed during testing, almost triggering the airship’s mana fluctuation alarm.”

That experiment had nearly ended in disaster. Luo En had designed a compressed mana structure to maintain stable supply in reduced space, but during testing, the mana had surged uncontrollably. Only his quick reflexes had prevented catastrophe.

“Since all conventional methods failed,” Luo En stood and paced to the room’s corner, where the prototype hummed softly, “I had to rethink the entire mana architecture.”

The initial prototype was already far smaller than traditional models but still bulkier than his envisioned portable design. Its core was a fist-sized transparent crystal orb, housing Aksa’s soul fragment and slots for additional fragments. Twelve meticulously arranged mana nodes encircled the orb, forming a complete circulation system.

“Traditional devices use linear mana flow—mana flows unidirectionally from source to modules, then dissipates,” he mused, already drafting his upcoming paper. “Inefficient, which explains their high energy consumption.”

“Multi-layered cyclic systems are the answer,” his eyes gleamed. “Mana isn’t wasted but recaptured after primary use, cycling into subsequent layers to keep functioning.”

This idea stemmed from Luo En’s deep study of the Flowing Barrier technique. In that spell, mana cycled continuously, allowing sustained effects far beyond typical spells. He’d expanded this principle to the entire device, creating a novel system.

“But even this small breakthrough leaves two core issues,” he sighed. “Stabilizing soul fragments and compressing spatial requirements.”

After securing his position at the Crystal Spire, he’d finally accessed ancient research on soul stabilization. Combined with his traits—Conceptualization, Broad Knowledge, Trinity Convergence, Essence Insight—and Eve’s refined spiritual energy control techniques, he’d devised a groundbreaking stabilization mechanism.

Now, he filled pages with calculations. “Microscopic-level control allows precise mana regulation. Combined with Void Gem’s spatial attributes and Phantom Heart Stone’s emotion-to-mana feedback, this system’s efficiency triples traditional models.”

Thinking of the Phantom Heart Stone, his expression darkened. This ore sensed the user’s emotional and mana fluctuations, converting them into sustained mana. Theoretically perfect, but dangerous—intense emotions could drain life mana irreversibly.

“A warning, perhaps. Adds stakes to Simulation Combat. Without risk of death, true breakthroughs are impossible.”

He scribbled more formulas. “This conversion method confines spirit damage from simulated deaths to recoverable levels.”

Still, innovation alone wasn’t enough. Even with revolutionary designs, rare materials were essential. Over weeks, he’d spent his life savings at the Crystal Spire’s exchanges, snapping up spatial-attribute materials at staggering prices.

Yet these investments were worthwhile. He wasn’t merely building a portable Simulation Combat Device—he was crafting a fully equipped mobile workshop.

“The workshop’s progress?” he asked his tree spirit assistant, glancing at a miniature model in the room’s corner.

“Foundational structure and first-level spatial framework complete,” Ai Lan replied. As a natural spirit, she’d contributed key organic components. “The alchemy lab’s stabilization arrays and potion room ventilation are ready. Only the training arena and storage remain.”

Unlike the device, the workshop was straightforward—Luo En followed existing blueprints without needing innovation. He’d designed it as a familiar two-story stone building, like the one he’d rented at Black Mist Academy, but far more advanced.

“Void Gem’s spatial attributes will allow it to shrink to wearable size,” Luo En said, his voice tinged with anticipation. “Like Madam’s Herbal Medicine Shop, but more stable and enduring.”

This meant that no matter where he went, he could bring his complete research Environment with him.

When he traveled to Abyss research stations or went on future explorations, he wouldn't need to abandon any equipment or research findings.

This was a one-time investment that perfectly aligned with his efficiency-driven, return-maximizing approach.

"Now it's time to organize these findings into an academic paper", Luo En said, returning to his desk and picking up a quill. "Strive for the School's official recognition and additional resource support."

He lowered his head and began drafting an outline.

The title was already decided:

"Mobile Simulation Combat Device: A Breakthrough in Overcoming Spatial Restrictions for Combat Training."

He needed to construct a clear, rigorous argumentative framework. It had to showcase both the research's innovation and practical value while strategically withholding core technical details—especially those involving Abyss materials.

"Start with the introduction."

Luo En's quill glided smoothly across the parchment:

"Highlight the limitations of current Simulation Combat Devices, explain why miniaturization and mobility are essential, and outline the practical applications this innovation could enable."

His writing was sharp and precise, devoid of elaborate embellishments or flowery language. Each word cut directly to the core issue.

This was his signature style—practical, direct, and efficient.

"Since its invention during the mid-Third Era, the Simulation Combat Device has remained a crucial tool in combat training systems. However, its massive size, complex maintenance requirements, and staggering mana consumption have confined this training method to major Schools and affluent mage clans. Ironically, it is precisely the explorers who spend years outdoors who need this high-intensity training most yet struggle to access it. This study aims to resolve this contradiction."

Luo En recalled his earliest experiments—the grueling process of redesigning and re-testing after each failure.

Each failure brought new insights; every mistake pointed toward better solutions. It was this iterative experimental spirit that ultimately led to breakthrough discoveries.

"For the theoretical section, I must explain in detail the principles of the multi-layer nested mana circulation system", he mused. "Balance innovation disclosure with secrecy, especially regarding the 'Phantom Heart Stone' components."

"Soul fragment stabilization techniques also require careful handling."

As he considered these details, he continued writing:

"Only mention the improved rune sequences and Crystal Stone composite materials—avoid specifics about Abyss element applications."

The use of Abyss materials was the most sensitive aspect of the research.

Putting down his quill, he paused to contemplate how to demonstrate academic value and practical potential without revealing too many secrets.

This was a delicate balance. Every sentence and concept needed meticulous refinement.

"The application scenarios section needs special emphasis", he told himself. "This is where I'll capture the review committee's attention."

As the final period was marked, Luo En set down his quill and stretched his stiff shoulders. Outside the window, night had draped its cloak over the Crystal Spire.

The city's mana lamps flickered to life, one by one, like constellations descended to earth, transforming the metropolis into a dreamlike spectacle.

"Completed."

Luo En murmured, gazing at the stack of filled parchment before him: "Submit this to the review office first thing tomorrow."

The tree spirit approached, speaking softly: "Do you think the review committee will accept your research?"

A confident smile touched Luo En's lips, his eyes gleaming with certainty: "This isn't just theoretical speculation—it's a practical achievement with tangible applications. Even if they withhold certain technical details, they cannot deny its potential value."

He stepped toward the window, his gaze fixed on the mana-lit spire skyline as he calculated his next moves.

"Once the paper gains recognition, it will not only build my academic reputation but also secure greater resources", Luo En mused. "Crucial for establishing my mobile workshop and deeper research."

"Then there's the 'Rainbow Ring' competition", he continued calculating. "That treasured 'Lance Experiment Notes' might bring a new breakthrough to my bloodline research."

"Knowledge, resources, power..." Luo En recited his lifelong pursuit sequence mentally. "Every step must be steady and solid."

The next morning, Luo En donned a simple yet dignified dark robe. He carefully placed his organized paper and supporting materials into a scroll case and headed toward the academic review office at the Crystal Spire.

The review office stood in the central School grounds—a freestanding structure.

Its exterior appeared plain yet dignified, constructed from rare white stone. Ancient wisdom inscriptions adorned its surface, symbolizing the spirit of rational inquiry and knowledge-seeking.

As he entered the grand hall, an atmosphere of solemnity enveloped him. The air carried the distinct scent of parchment, ink, and aged books. Faint mana fluctuations wove through the space, creating the unique "academic ambiance" of this place.

Dozens of mages filled the hall—some waiting expectantly, likely here to submit papers; others with nervous expressions, probably awaiting review results; a few bore dark countenances, perhaps having just received unfavorable evaluations.

Luo En observed the surroundings, studying both the environment and its inhabitants.

"Lanf!" A warm voice called from behind.

Turning, he saw a middle-aged man in a deep blue robe approaching, his face bearing a friendly smile.

This was William·Wei Si Te, associate professor and head of the alchemy department at Crystal Spire. He had been one of the evaluators during Luo En's initial assessment in the Central Lands.

"Director West, good morning", Luo En nodded slightly, maintaining courteous distance.

"Already immersed in academic research since your arrival at Crystal Spire? The 'Treasure Grade' evaluation the committee gave you was well-earned."

William's tone carried genuine appreciation: "Here to submit a paper? What field are we looking at?"

"Miniaturization and mobility improvements to the Simulation Combat Device", Luo En answered succinctly, demonstrating both respect and discretion.

"A Simulation Combat Device?"

William's eyebrows lifted—first surprise, then keen interest:

"That's an extremely challenging topic. The mana demands and spatial constraints of traditional devices have long been bottlenecks stalling many researchers. If you've made substantial breakthroughs..."

He left the sentence hanging, but the gleam in his eyes spoke volumes about his deep understanding and curiosity for the field.

"My research directly targets those bottlenecks."

Luo En confirmed with quiet confidence.

"Looking forward to seeing your achievements, Lanf", William's smile grew warmer. "With the innate talent you've already demonstrated, I'm certain you'll surprise the review committee. Hope we can discuss in depth another time."

After brief pleasantries, William departed, and Luo En resumed his place in the submission queue.

When his turn came, a stern-faced elderly woman with silver hair at the reception desk accepted his materials, beginning to record basic information.

"Luo En Lanf. Mobile Simulation Combat Device—cross-interference domain with Soul Fragment stabilization technology."

She muttered, her fingers deftly inscribing a heavy registry tome.

Luo En noticed the slight pause in her pen stroke when she reached "Soul Fragment stabilization technology."

Completing the registration, she raised her head, voice returned to bureaucratic monotony:

"Your paper has been formally accepted. The review process will take approximately seven to ten days. Results will be posted directly on the mana message board. We'll contact you separately for exceptional circumstances."

"Thank you." Luo En replied simply before departing.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end