Seven Strokes

Donald's room had no magic desk lamp, but it did have a workbench, complete with paper, pens, and rulers. Donald had even borrowed quite a few special tools from Victor in advance for tonight.

All three oil lamps in the room had been placed on the workbench. They could not compare to the extravagant magic desk lamp on Victor's experimental table, but they were enough.

Donald carefully washed his hands before picking up the Great Fireball Scroll he had just swindled from Victor and silently examining it. He had to admit that the Scroll was extraordinarily precise. The leather of some unknown animal was soft yet taut, with barely any of the grain one would expect from ordinary leather. Within a space no larger than a palm, hundreds of Fire Element Magic Glyphs had been drawn, linked end to end in dense succession. Donald tried to find a pattern in their arrangement, but quickly gave up. Without sufficient knowledge, such an effort was like trying to find a pattern among randomly scattered grains of rice—doomed to be futile.

The other, smaller Scrolls each bore fire-element Runes in slightly different styles, clearly drawn by different hands.

Setting down the Scroll, Donald took out the Transparent Tracing Paper he had prepared beforehand and carefully traced a Magic Glyph from the Scroll. He moved it to a flat section of the workbench and used the tip of a needle to densely pierce through the traced shape. Then he found another Rune, traced it onto the paper, and pierced it through as well. At that moment, Donald was like an experienced watchmaker crafting the finest work of his life, quiet and composed.

Each time, he selected the Rune he liked best, growing ever more demanding. By the time he had traced the thirtieth Rune, three hours had passed.

Then Donald cut the sheets bearing the Runes into pieces the size of copper coins. Using his finest needle, he passed it through the holes he had carefully selected one by one. Once everything was done, he straightened up and held the stack of paper toward the oil lamp, rotating and aligning the sheets one by one. As he did so, his heartbeat quickened, and breathing became difficult.

As more and more sheets were stacked together, the Transparent Tracing Paper ceased to be transparent. Yet the light shining through the pierced spots gradually formed a shape. As the outline became clearer and clearer, sweat had already formed on Donald's forehead.

His intuition had been right! The strange feeling those five Magic Glyphs gave him was not due to the mystery of magic, but because they resembled a mathematical figure familiar to Donald. In this world, Donald alone was familiar with that figure: the Sine Wave Pattern!

The Fire Element Rune was a Sine Wave Pattern—exactly one cycle.

For millions of years, this mischievous wave had hidden behind that mysterious, crude Flame totem. Only on this quiet late night was its veil lifted by the boy before it, revealing its true face.

Donald struggled to suppress the surging emotions in his heart. He pierced fine needles along the direction of the incoming light, left the first and last needles in place, and pulled out all the rest. Then he laid the paper over a blank sheet, marked the needle holes with the tip of his pen, connected them, and finally drew a perfect wave curve.

Why is this wave pattern a Fire Element Magic Glyph? Why does drawing this wave with Magic Metal produce a Spiritual Element? Are Spiritual Elements also waves? If so, what is the connection between them?

Donald had too many questions in his heart. But before those questions could be answered, he had something more important to do. What came next was the crucial step in verifying his guess.

He opened the leather case Wesley had given him, took out the crystal vial labeled Flame Gold, uncorked it, and drew out the tracing pen engraved with a Flame pattern. He spread the drawing paper over the blank sheet from before, dipped the pen, and fell silent for a moment, as though gathering strength. Then he took a deep breath, held it, and began to draw that perfect wave curve.

Just draw one!

Yet a mysterious force drew him onward: ...Come on, one more time. Don't hesitate. There's no need to be afraid. One more time...

So he drew another, then another... Only after drawing the seventh did the Flame Gold in the crystal vial run out, and Donald suddenly snapped awake. Thinking of the danger he might have just faced, he was seized by inexplicable fear, his back instantly drenched in cold sweat.

He tossed away the pen and slumped into his chair, gasping for breath. Closing his eyes, he could still seemingly see the figure he had just drawn. It rose and fell with his heartbeat, then... gradually stilled, becoming a point—a vivid crimson point.

He opened his eyes, but the red point was still there. No, it was not in his field of vision; it was in his consciousness. The red point moved with his thoughts, nimble and free, sometimes darting swiftly, sometimes resting quietly.

Though he could hardly believe it, Donald knew clearly that this was his first Spiritual Element: a crimson Fire Element Spiritual Orb. It had appeared in his mind, real and tangible, yet so utterly unbelievable.

Those who condensed a Spiritual Element within a year were considered to possess Magic Talent.

Then what about condensing a Spiritual Element in a single night, with seven strokes?! What kind of astonishing talent was that?

Now, the genius still sat slumped in his chair, but the panic in his heart had been replaced by joy. He possessed Magic Talent, and more importantly, the veil of the goddess of magic had been lifted. More unknown mysteries awaited his exploration.

He knew that condensing Spiritual Power so quickly was certainly not because his talent was peerless, but because of that miraculous curve. Compared to the crude, totem-like Fire Element Rune, it was so simple, so perfect. At that thought, he immediately sat up straight and erased every trace from the table, leaving only that blank sheet. He carefully folded it and placed it in the pocket closest to his body.

If this secret were made public, perhaps most ordinary people—even everyone—could practice magic. But magical materials are so scarce. This would inevitably bring about enormous change. No, it would be a revolution. No one knows whether that would be a blessing for humanity or a catastrophe. Donald thought this, and of course, he also had other complicated and subtle feelings—the sudden acquisition of a priceless treasure, the danger of possessing it, and more. No matter what, he decided to guard this secret carefully and never show it to anyone.

Donald suddenly remembered the mathematical problems he had discussed with Victor. Fortunately, they had not yet touched upon trigonometric functions, but he still secretly resolved not to continue discussing mathematics with Victor.

Also, one Spiritual Element was clearly not enough. He needed to continue drawing Runes to increase his Spiritual Power, but he had no fire-element materials left. If he wanted to use the remaining four bottles of materials for practice, he would need to obtain the Magic Arrays of the other four elements from Victor.

Even a genius needed basic magical materials for practice. He could not keep relying on Wesley's support. Therefore, his next step had to be solving the problem of money. He wondered how Merkel's parts were coming along.