Chapter 333: Palace? Grave...

With a casual flick of his wrist, Wang Yu extended the force of his war-chassis, crushing the alchemical mechanism embedded in the ceiling. Astartes had warned him that others besides himself could observe the Sky Mechanical City through these sensory nodes, and he had no desire to be watched while reading this book.

The contents inscribed upon the endless pages seeped into Wang Yu’s mind. They were mostly anecdotes and curiosities, yet the subjects were the most illustrious figures in history. The text detailed their choices, their actions, and their words during the defining moments of their lives.

“A man’s talent is not eternal; a sage is not necessarily a sage forever...”

He murmured Merlin’s words from the book to himself.

Wang Yu was not reading aimlessly. Since Astartes had clearly intended to convey information regarding the Sky Mechanical City, he needed only to search for what was relevant to it.

The figures in the book most closely linked to the city were Astartes and its creator, Merlin. Wang Yu began to devour the chapters recording Merlin’s life.

When he first read it, he had marveled at how much screen time Merlin received, and how every story portrayed him in a positive light, while the other historical figures were invariably marred by scandal.

Back then, knowing the book was written by Merlin’s creation, the machine spirit Astartes, Wang Yu had simply attributed it to a bias toward its master. Now, however, it seemed far more complex.

After organizing the stories of Merlin’s life, Wang Yu synthesized what the book was trying to tell him.

Merlin was a man who valued capability above all else and cared little for power. The series of rules he established were designed solely to drive the rapid advancement of technical knowledge within the Sky Mechanical City.

In his view, the title of "Sage" was not immutable. A talented individual might lose their edge over time, while one who was not a sage could, through the accumulation of time and effort, become worthy of the title.

These sages were the ones meant to lead the city forward, the ones to whom authority should be entrusted. Setting aside basic morality, capability was the only standard Merlin recognized for determining whether one was fit to hold power.

The status assessment mechanism seemed to be a legacy of Merlin’s era: as long as one could produce work recognized by the Central Council, they could elevate their status and gain greater privileges.

This had been executed quite effectively; backed by genuine strength, the Sky Mechanical City had become a true temple of academia.

The talented drove progress through research, and by submitting new technologies to the Council, they earned status—a virtuous cycle that sustained the passion of every researcher.

This was precisely what puzzled Wang Yu. From Astartes’ words, it was clear that the problem lay with the current masters of the city: the Central Council.

Yet, on the surface, they seemed to be doing well. Whether it was technological progress or the overall stability of the city, Wang Yu, having stayed here for some time, could find no fault.

“Where exactly is the problem? Merlin’s greatest fear was that the city would stagnate and rot. Only by constantly generating new things could it maintain its momentum. That is the meaning of a ‘temple of academia’—new techniques, new directions. But, it is indeed as it seems...”

Wang Yu recalled the books he had seen in the library. One volume recorded the new research results accepted by the Council in recent years. After a one-to-two-year patent protection period, this knowledge was made public for all to study.

Judging by that book, the number of new results produced each year had not dwindled; it remained at a relatively steady level, occasionally even increasing slightly. Stagnation was nowhere to be seen.

This contradiction made Wang Yu doubt his own judgment. He frowned, searching for a critical clue.

“Wang Yu, how is the alchemical power core coming along? Shall I take a look?”

The sound of the door opening and Evia’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Seeing the girl enter, Wang Yu did not hesitate to seek her help.

“Evia, something happened just now. Let me tell you, and I’d like you to help me look into a question.”

Wang Yu looked up and recounted the events, along with his lingering doubt: where exactly was the problem?

The girl’s expression turned serious as he spoke, and as the narrative unfolded, a look of deep contemplation settled on her face.

When Wang Yu finished and posed his question, she remained silent for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. Then, a look of sudden realization dawned upon her.

“Your intuition is not wrong, Wang Yu. But you should look at this from the point that concerns us.”

The girl affirmed his suspicion in a calm tone and pointed him toward the correct line of reasoning. Wang Yu paused, then followed her lead.

The point that concerned them... was it Astartes’ initial warning not to report the results of his hyper-magic research to the Central Council?

Yes. Among the many new research results each year, why was it specifically hyper-magic research that was targeted? And the Seekers’ Society—the hyper-magic research there had been terminated for no apparent reason as well.

“What is so different about hyper-magic research?”

With Evia’s hint, Wang Yu found the key. That was the problem. Why was the Council so intent on suppressing hyper-magic research? It wasn’t inherently evil.

“It’s normal that you can’t figure this out, Wang Yu. If the Professor were here to distinguish hyper-magic from the other annual research results, he would surely see it.”

Evia gave a wry smile. She knew Wang Yu had been thinking hard, but he was not a scholar in the true sense. To him, hyper-magic and the city’s annual research results looked the same.

But as a scholar who had participated in the research, Evia realized the difference the moment she compared them. The gap was unimaginably vast.

“To use an analogy from your Earth’s disciplines, comparing hyper-magic to the research the city publishes every year is like comparing electromagnetism to steam power, or Einsteinian physics to Newtonian mechanics.”

The girl paused to explain it in a way Wang Yu could understand. Once she put it that way, he grasped it immediately.

“In other words, hyper-magic is a genuine path into new territory, while those so-called new results are merely stacking bricks upon an existing framework?”

Wang Yu asked.

“Exactly.”

The girl nodded. Wang Yu understood quickly. In many respects, hyper-magic had diverged from the established schools of thought.

Take magic arrays as an example: traditional schools were based on physical magic circuits. New research results were just new ways to configure those circuits—better mana tolerance, stronger effects. But hyper-magic, to an extent, could discard the physical circuits entirely...

“So that’s what Merlin meant by ‘new’? Damn, that means the Sky Mechanical City has been stagnant for a long time. It looks like it’s constantly producing new results, but in reality, it’s just adding decorations to the old. It looks different, but the core remains exactly the same?”

Wang Yu tapped his head and clicked his tongue, finally catching the scent of the rot.

“They are desperate for new results...”

He chewed on that comment Astartes had made in the alley regarding the Abyss Mage’s loss of control. Now, the meaning was entirely different. The Abyss, a phenomenon not yet understood, was indeed a new direction.

The Central Council seemed desperate to produce something that could be called "entirely new." On one hand, they suppressed the emergence of new paths; on the other, they struggled to forge one themselves.

“It seems our assessment of the Sky Mechanical City was off. This so-called temple of scholars looks more like a graveyard.”

Wang Yu shook his head, his tone laced with irony. He had nothing against the city itself, which gathered so many scholars; he could see their passion and pursuit. He simply felt that the people in the Central Council had sat in their positions for too long and had decayed.

Yet, he found it quite normal. Where there are people, there is hierarchy. It was much like Alastair; once someone reached that height, who would be willing to step down? Consolidating one’s power was the only priority.

Few could reach a higher state of mind. The Elves and the Winged Folk seemed to manage it well, but Humans, Dwarves, and Orcs were lacking.

Combining this with the viewpoints Merlin expressed in the book, Wang Yu and Evia were almost certain that the city had a mechanism for rotating Council members, left behind by Merlin.

The criterion for this rotation was the ability to produce genuinely new research. But this mechanism had been exploited. Since they could not produce new results themselves, and could not stop the rotation if someone else did, they simply prevented others from producing results or forced them to hand them over.

And it worked. Evia carefully recalled the list of new research results and was shocked to realize that for over a hundred years, there hadn't been a single technological breakthrough on the level of "hyper-magic."

Combined with the abrupt termination of the Seekers’ Society’s research, countless new paths and directions had likely been strangled in their infancy. The temple of academia was truly becoming a graveyard.

“That makes Astartes’ role as a tower spirit very special. It must be another error-correction mechanism left by Merlin. When such a situation arises, the machine spirit, which holds partial authority over the city, attempts to rectify the problem.”

“But it seems something went wrong on its end, too. It couldn't even communicate with sentient beings until it happened to meet me, allowing it to convey this mess through the loophole of that book.”

Having cleared up one side of the matter, Wang Yu began to analyze the unique individual that was Astartes. He didn't fully understand machine spirits, but judging by its actions and its creator’s identity, Astartes was clearly opposed to the current Council. It wanted to change the status quo.

“Wang Yu, you’re a lot like those characters in movies—wherever you go, trouble follows.”

Evia teased him. It was a coincidence, indeed; if not for him, Astartes wouldn't have been able to speak, nor could it have used the book to let others know the state of the Council.

“Hey, that’s got nothing to do with me. The problem was always there. It just happened to surface, or perhaps it was drawn out by my own peculiarity.”

Wang Yu shrugged nonchalantly. He might have felt differently before, but he had long since realized that even if he didn't run around, trouble would still happen elsewhere—he just wouldn't be there to see it.

Indeed, his uniqueness was bound to incite some trouble, yet without it, he would never have reached this point; these disturbances were simply the price to be paid for such singularity.

"Naturally."

The girl replied with a smile, though she did not truly believe it.

"Then I must ask, can hyper-magic research truly provide us with significant aid? I recall you saying it is a path of infinite potential, especially for the Professor; with this new avenue, the fractured mana circuits in his body might be mended in a way both novel and immensely powerful."

Wang Yu inquired of Avia with earnest intent.

"Of course, it is a path brimming with possibility. Once successfully traversed—setting aside the changes it might bring to others—every magitech device we possess could be upgraded, and the long-delayed Weaver’s Grimoire could finally emerge in a brand-new form."

The girl gave her answer with absolute certainty.

"Then there is nothing more to say; we simply continue the work. As for the problems we might face..."

Exchanging a knowing smile, Wang Yu and Avia bumped fists; this research, of such profound personal significance, would never cease. As for the potential interference from the Central Council, they had weathered similar storms before, and as Wang Yu had put it:

"This is not Alestle, and there is a reason, after all, why I chose the Sky Mechanical City."