Chapter 651: Someone hadn’t forgotten it was Sunday.
In fact, what the student in the academy uniform, looking like he had just left class, said was the honest sentiment of many students at Isabeis Magic Academy.
Not everyone was blessed with refined bloodlines passed down and optimized by imperial nobility for generations to concentrate the best magical talent. Those exceptional figures like Lyra, who rose from the bottom without relying on family or lineage, were, by proportion, extremely rare.
She was the kind of magical prodigy the empire encountered once in millennia. Her name and deeds would be recorded in history.
The many others who had similar upbringings, pushed by family hopes into the top school, were only common mortals. After straining upward a rung, constrained by limited talent and ability, they stalled and stayed where they were.
Besides those ordinary people who scraped together money to barely get into the academy and had to face this harsh fate, some minor noble descendants faced the same dilemma.
They would either gild their résumé at the academy and immediately attach themselves to higher powers after graduation to secure their future, or they would wait to inherit family enterprises and treat their academy experience as a stepping stone into high society.
It was precisely this psychology that Amalia exploited. For those who chose the first path, she had already arranged the steps, just waiting for them to walk into the palace. They could become royal magical device craftsmen, receive special training from the crown, and serve the empire.
Although nominally a logistics corps, everyone knew the weight of such a contract.
Not to mention whether they would be worry-free later, just the imperial designation alone would make others treat them with more respect, not every noble was as foolish as Sally, who, relying on her acquaintance with Astrid, brazenly insulted the maid the latter had just taken in.
The royal craftsmen belonged to the Empress herself . To mistreat or blame them without the sovereign’s permission would be a slap in Amalia’s face.
"There isn’t that much time to waste. I have to think about my family," the noble scion in luxurious robes said, staring at the glass display case and speaking after a long silence, while the background noise continued unabated.
"The empress’ benefits are much better than becoming a guard, and the threshold isn’t high, you just need to reach the graduation standard."
"Huh? Can an early tier Sorcerer join?"
"Yeah, it seems so for now..."
"Look, magical devices have so many precision parts: rune-carved conduits for channeling energy; crystallized stones that must be set to output paths and frequencies; inlay craft so snug nothing falls out; materials forging, there’s a lot to research, and a lot of work to do."
"I’d imagine the Empress means a whole magical device, from design to execution to fine machining, won’t be the work of one person."
"...division of labor?"
"Exactly. Even someone as learned as Vice Dean Charlotte can’t do everything alone."
The noble youth frowned as he listened to the fervent discussion around him.
Since Amalia took the throne, the white-robed empress had been steadily pushing reform bills related to magical devices, trying to integrate these magical creations into nobles’ everyday life: weighting academy credits toward magical device courses, renovating large parts of Capital City with related facilities, promoting the normalization of information transmitters, and creating a royal magical device craftsmen corps.
Unconsciously, she had impressed upon most people the idea that they needed magical devices.
Imagine stripping away all those bathing facilities, cooking devices, wall and floor heaters, who would complain first? The capital’s nobility.
And the imperial weekly, the silver-haired regent’s pet project, paved the airwaves with propaganda every week. Even serialized novels in the papers were full of soft ads for magical devices, securing the media high ground.
"..."
Thinking about the elective courses he planned to take next semester, the noble scion looked back at the devices in the glass case and considered quietly.
At Elizabeth, taking magical device courses for two terms and completing the related studies was the prerequisite to join the royal craftsmen. Afterwards they’d send specialists to train recruits, applying the theoretical knowledge to practical use and guiding apprentices toward useful work.
If not... he could, like the others, switch his courses.
After all, it was only an elective; it wouldn’t take much of his time. Maybe it could even be used as an opportunity to court royal favor later. Even if chances were slim, it was worth a try.
The only thing to overcome was the awkward pride, being a noble and having to do what commoners did.
....................
On the third evening, the magical device exhibition concluded smoothly. Amalia ordered the exhibits packed into storage rooms, withdrew the palace guard, and lifted the capital’s full security alert.
The curtain had fallen; it was time to draw conclusions. Amalia’s interrogation into the saboteurs stopped at the initiator level, directly linking him to imperial nobility.
It was neither too deep nor too shallow: enough to make an example of someone and serve as a warning, but not enough to make the outcome too ugly.
After all, squabbling within the royal family wasn’t a thing to be proud of, Amalia didn’t particularly care how the Valeria family had behaved, but at this critical juncture the reputation of the entire royal house directly affected whether her throne was secure and whether the magical device reforms could proceed smoothly.
A temporary charade of politeness was warranted.
Patience had always been Amalia’s greatest skill.
Meanwhile, Astrid collected feedback from students at Isabeis who’d participated in the exhibition, and she was quite satisfied with the results.
Over ninety percent had a bright outlook on magical devices; the small remainder worried about safety and were generally undecided.
After the survey, Astrid had Dean Anthony announce the elective registration dates for the next semester earlier than planned, and she used the current issue of Empire Weekly to loudly promote the bright future of magical devices.
The two-pronged approach quickly attracted a large number of high-achieving students willing to spend time on related electives.
As Astrid had predicted, the majority of minor nobles, merchants, and lower-class citizens inclined to accept the royal call, grab the Empress’s appointed sinecure, and be early entrants into the burgeoning magical device movement.
The larger nobles were more neutral. The perceptive, like Velmont, hedged their bets, ready to either withdraw or take their share; the obstinate, like Prince Clark, passively resisted, paying lip service but opposing magical devices.
Of course, most were still weighing gains and losses, wondering how far the Empress intended to push this and whether they could keep up.
Astrid didn’t intend to wait long on the fence-sitters. Riding the momentum of the homeland war’s victorious outcome and the successful exhibition, she quickly drafted an academy reform bill for Amalia.
The specifics mirrored what they had done at Isabeis previously: increasing basic magic in first-year curricula to solidify foundations, and offering magical device study as an elective in the second year, kept optional rather than mandatory, so Amalia’s initiative wouldn’t seem too heavy-handed.
In Astrid’s view, compared to the Elizabeth Academy of Magical in the capital, smaller magic academies in provincial cities had a broader reach. There were more undiscovered potential magical device craftsmen there and greater untapped energy.
A week after the exhibition, late at night, in Astrid’s private bedchamber.
"Sister, the craftsmen side is more or less on track. But the more urgent problem is the elemental crystals, what should we do about supply?"
Amalia had just bathed and sat at her desk. Her smooth golden hair wasn’t tied back and she wasn’t wearing her crown; it fell naturally over rounded shoulders. The smooth skin between the white nightgown straps and her dazzling hair made the girl’s complexion seem even more delicate.
"Theresa’s deal can solve the immediate need, but it’s not a long-term solution," Amalia said. She kicked off her slippers and flexed her two smooth calves against the chair legs. The brown wooden slats pressed a faint line along the tops of her feet, like wheel tracks on snow.
To develop the magical device industry long-term, there had to be profit. Without profit, if Astrid only did charity, not only would profit-driven nobles complain, even within the royal family she’d be accused of using power for personal gain.
"Even if we open more hunting grounds and assign more manpower, the yield of elemental crystals is very limited, and the labor cost isn’t insignificant."
Astrid, sitting on the bed brushing her hair, was silent for a moment before speaking.
"Relying on natural crystal yields to support an entire industry is still far beyond our reach."
From the start, Astrid’s goal had been to reduce the consumption per crystal and extend their lifespan, not to expand hunting lands to extract more raw material.
"Lady Charlotte’s team has been researching that direction; they just haven’t made a big breakthrough yet."
"The general idea is still what I said before: capture the free arcane factors in space, write element-particle mimicry arrays, and repair and refill hollow crystals."
The theory sounded promising, but the reality was far harder. Charlotte’s tests so far had only achieved partial success: when outputting element particles, a portion of arcane factors could bond and simulate, showing emission characteristics similar to that element.
By this principle, where previously ten units of fire-element micro-particles were needed to reach a certain heat, now only nine and a half units plus arcane factors could achieve the same effect, the missing half-unit replaced by gathered arcane factors.
"If even Professor Charlotte, a middle tier Arcanist mage, can only do this much, we’re still a long way off..."
Besides the current batch of craftsmen she had on hand, the new recruits who needed specialized training wouldn’t be ready to shoulder major responsibilities for at least half a year. Before then, they could only run errands and do rune engraving.
That was somewhat good news: at least they weren’t being kept idle.
Astrid nodded softly. "Half a year should be enough."
Once Theresa delivered and with raw materials bought cheaply from the Velmont family, their elemental crystals would be barely sufficient; there wouldn’t be a severe shortfall in the short term.
Amalia pressed her lips together and spoke gently. "I contacted the Pan-Human Alliance during the exhibition. They have several batches of elemental crystals ready and want a long-term deal with the empire."
"You agreed?" Astrid asked.
Amalia nodded, her smooth feet twitching under the chair. "Yes, at least secure the shipments first; the money can come later."
When winter passed she planned to organize the army to settle accounts with the Kingdom of Velys. She brought up the crystal shortage because military equipment had drained a lot of Amalia’s funds.
Every improvement Charlotte made that reduced energy consumption translated into a direct cost reduction for Amalia, a pile of emerald-green coins as valuable as eyes.
Sensing her sister’s anxiety, Astrid finished her hair and walked slowly over to the chair. Her arm slipped over Amalia’s neck; she leaned against the chair back, half-languid.
"I’ve reviewed the other reports," Astrid said. She cared about the economy even more than Amalia, who had to divide her attention with politics. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this."
Amalia felt Astrid’s arm around her and the cool scent of her skin. She took Astrid’s hand, pressed the back of it to her lips, and left a small kiss.
"Mm, I know."
Being an Empress was stressful. Every day the red numbers on the balance sheets, the worms inside the empire constantly eating at the cake, it made Amalia feel tightness in her chest.
Luckily her sister was there... always there to stay with her...
Astrid rested her chin atop Amalia’s head. Her crimson eyes narrowed; her perfect face reflected in the mirror. Her hair fell like a lazy silver fox.
"If you’re really anxious, think about the Kingdom of Velys," Astrid said. Their situation was worse than Amalia’s.
"Think positively. Maybe once winter’s over, the scouts will report that the old nobles are already on the scaffold. We won’t have to lift a finger."
That was unlikely...
Both knew it wouldn’t be that straightforward, but hearing her sister’s gentle voice, Amalia could let herself believe for a moment.
Either way, one thing was for sure.
Don’t think about daytime troubles at night; it only ruins sleep.
There were many things both sisters liked to do.
Just as Amalia was about to stand, stepping onto the rug, a crisp knock sounded on the door.
"..."
Someone hadn’t forgotten it was Sunday.