The air in the City Hall meeting room was rather stuffy.
Veylin sat upright at the head of the long table, with Tristan, Elwin, and Valerius beside him. Even Luowu, who always paid close attention to his appearance, had taken a spot by the window for some fresh air.
Every one of these core spellcasters of Minas Tirith wore exhaustion on his face.
Over the past two days, the entire administrative system of Minas Tirith had nearly buckled under the residents' excessive enthusiasm.
Ever since the reward notice had been posted throughout the streets and alleys, the doors of City Hall had never closed.
From impoverished nobles to street thugs, everyone believed they held the golden key to turning the situation around.
Most of the unreliable applicants-such as those trying to conduct electricity through slime mucus-had been stopped at the initial screening by the clerks Tristan had assigned. Yet even after several rounds of scrutiny, plenty of proposals still reached the central meeting room.
"Phew..."
Elwin slumped in his chair without the slightest concern for appearances, a quill still clutched in his hand.
"That impoverished noble's Steady-Flow Ink formula did have something going for it." The mage rubbed his aching wrist, a trace of regret in his voice. "Combined with his family's special brushwork, it really could allow a Third-Level Mage to draw enchantment circuits by hand. But that was all."
Valerius also took off his glasses and tiredly wiped the lenses. "Yes. It lowered the threshold for enchanting, but according to the test data, it could only increase overall production speed by thirty percent... That still isn't enough."
Everyone felt rather dispirited.
Over the past two days, they had seen many secret techniques treasured by noble families, as well as plenty of bold, innovative ideas from commoners. They had