Ch.93Bright Night

*Fzzzt… Fzzzt…*

Inside the magic tower of Amurtart, sparks were flying around as if electricity had short-circuited.

This phenomenon occurred when magical formulas didn’t properly align. Since it wasn’t particularly harmful to the human body, the young apprentice mages who were densely inscribing various magical formulas onto streetlamps were correcting their mistakes with dried bread, wearing irritated expressions.

“Oh dear, Jamie. Where did you go wrong?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Don’t say you don’t know. Take a proper look at the formula. Then you’ll be able to see where you made your mistake.”

“Ah… yes.”

Bladek liked children who grew slowly but surely.

As the tower master and one who had earned the title of Grand Mage, he enjoyed watching toddling children lying flat on their stomachs, puffing out their soft cheeks as they drew magical formulas.

In truth, what adult wouldn’t enjoy watching children grow into members of society? But individuals of Bladek’s caliber had met far too many types of people throughout their lives, and among them, a high percentage were “quite unpleasant” ones.

“Master! I found it!”

“Did you? Which part was wrong?”

“Here. I drew the mana concentration circuit incorrectly.”

“That’s right. You found your own flaw. And finding your own flaw means you can fix it yourself.”

“Did I do well?”

“Of course. The world is full of people who can’t see the beam in their own eye but notice the speck in others’. You’ve seen the beam in your eye, so now you must become someone who can help remove the specks from others’ eyes.”

“I understand, Master.”

While ordinary people regard mages as “eccentrics,” mages and common folk literally live in different worlds.

Just as knights and warriors who wield aura look down on ordinary people, mages who manipulate the laws of mana can’t help but disdain commoners.

To put it extremely, if a Master coughed incorrectly, a person standing nearby could die from ruptured internal organs. If a displeased mage tapped the floor with a mana-infused staff, dozens of people’s brains could turn to mush.

That’s why knights constrain their power through the discipline of chivalry, and mages through their oath to the mana they possess.

Even street thugs follow street rules, lest they become like puppies barking at tigers without knowing their ferocity. The same applied even more to armies that move according to strict discipline.

“Those who have finished inscribing the formulas, come downstairs. We still have more work to do.”

“Yes!”

After instructing the children, Bladek went downstairs and began dissecting a manticore that Standard-Bearer Ignatz had captured.

With each gesture, like conducting an orchestra, the tough hide split like dried leaves, and the sinewy muscles were cut as if they were snow melting in fire.

Without incantations or magic circles, he was performing magic at a higher level through mere actions, in a place where no one could see.

Eventually, the completely dissected manticore corpse was further divided and placed into small vials.

Once they finished inscribing formulas on the streetlamps, he planned to teach them how to extract mana from magically imbued substances.

Soon, the children began coming downstairs one by one, and when the last child arrived, Bladek distributed the vials and began the next lesson.

*

*Whoosh…*

In the courtyard of the Adler Palace.

As darkness fell, the demonstration streetlamp gradually began to emit light due to the magical formula inscribed on it, soon forming a modest light source beneath it.

“Oh. It’s working.”

The brightness of the gradually illuminating streetlamp wasn’t particularly strong.

At best, it was about as bright as five or six candles bundled together.

But it was impossible to recreate the brightness of the sun with magic, nor was it necessary. If one lamp wasn’t bright enough, multiple lamps could compensate, so it didn’t really matter.

Besides, too much brightness could leak into lower-floor residences and negatively affect people’s sleep, so this dim light was suitable for a streetlamp’s purpose.

“This is the level of brightness… how is it?”

“It’s exactly the brightness I wanted. Well done, Tower Master. Now we just need to mass-produce these.”

Tiberius said this while presenting Tower Master Bladek with a monetary gift he had been keeping in his breast pocket.

Since this was also payment for the streetlamp production, the Tower Master accepted it without complaint and placed it in his personal pocket dimension storage.

“I’m glad it meets your approval. Then I’ll begin mass production at this brightness level.”

“Yes. I’m counting on you.”

With that, the streetlamp matter was settled.

It was a relatively simple task for a magic tower, but as with all things in life, simple matters must be handled before complex ones can be addressed.

Currently, the magic tower consists “only” of one Tower Master and hundreds of disciples, so there’s an extreme shortage of mages who can work independently. These small but reliable jobs help the mages grow significantly.

The saying that one must create something with their own hands to improve their skills applies not only to pottery artisans but also to butchers processing fish at the harbor.

“By the way, I’d also like to install cooling magic.”

“Cooling magic?”

“Yes. The Steelyard, Boneyard… and soon-to-be-built Brickyard. They all require heat, and as you know, heatstroke isn’t exactly good for health.”

At my words, Bladek stroked his beard thoughtfully before answering.

“I’m sorry, but that would be difficult. It might be possible for ordinary homes, but… considering the nature of industrial facilities that continuously generate heat, the consumption rate of magic circles would be beyond imagination. Moreover, given the harsh environment, there’s a high probability the magic circles would be damaged.”

High heat. Dust. And carts carrying heavy objects, along with the movement of numerous personnel.

It was an environment optimized for sensitive items to malfunction, so I wasn’t particularly surprised.

“Then, would it be possible to create separate rest areas and concentrate the cooling there?”

“Ah. That would be possible. I’ve done it a few times before.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. I used to cast such spells mainly in commanders’ barracks. I remember earning quite a bit from it.”

“Hmm.”

In the end, earning money comes down to skill.

The result of technology always tends to replace the process of labor, so superior technicians could always be favored by those in power.

“Then I’ll entrust that to you. For details, please inquire with the local industrial complex operators.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

With that, Bladek disappeared.

Leaving behind the streetlamp glowing forlornly.

*

“So you’re saying we have to install all of these?”

In a police station in downtown Amurtart, a rookie officer who had just received his police badge looked at the streetlamps filling the station’s warehouse floor with an incredulous expression.

“That’s right.”

And shamelessly, the police chief, who seemed to care more about grooming his mustache than public safety, replied indifferently.

“How many are there?”

“About 400 that arrived by dawn today? I think the same amount will arrive tomorrow.”

“I’m taking a vacation.”

“Hey, why are you like that? You just need to stick them in the ground!”

A few days later, streetlamps produced by the magic tower were delivered to police stations throughout the city, and mounted officers suddenly found themselves having to ride around planting streetlamps in street corners.

Of course, this was for public safety, so broadly speaking, it was police work. But officers who had been proudly carrying maces and acting haughty on horseback just yesterday suddenly had to do manual labor on the streets, thoroughly bruising their pride.

In truth, there was no reason they had to do this installation work, but as everyone knew, the new city in the Western Forest was still under construction, so there was a nationwide shortage of construction workers. They couldn’t let the newly acquired streetlamps rot in warehouses, so the police ended up digging the ground.

Assigning criminals would be too inefficient, and mobilizing citizens would create resentment, so in the end, the only manageable option was the lower ranks of public authority.

“All vacation requests are denied! If you understand, grab 20 each and get out on the streets now!”

“Sob…”

In the end, due to the police chief’s tyranny(?), the officers had to put on safety helmets and go out to the streets with tears in their eyes. Soon, citizens were given the rare opportunity to watch police officers digging up the corners of well-maintained roads.