5:15 AM. The sun had yet to rise.
I stretched, feeling the absolute comfort of the estate's high-end mattress. Perhaps it was time to re-establish my morning exercise routine to maintain my physical condition.
Rummaging through the wooden wardrobe, I tried to find a suitable outfit for working out, but to no avail. There was no specialized workout gear here. Ultimately, I had to pull out a shirt with the most breathable material paired with long trousers. Shorts were a massive image risk right now; I could not wander around the estate looking indecent and single-handedly destroy the image of a standard tutor that I was painstakingly building.
I left the room and began making my way down to the first floor. The tranquil atmosphere of the estate was gradually being broken by the working pace of the new day. Along the corridor, a few servants were already bustling about preparing for breakfast. Passing by them, I bowed my head slightly, smiling politely in response to their respectful bows. An amiable, humble attitude toward everyone in the estate was the most basic step to maintaining a safe living environment.
Stepping out into the rear garden, I took a deep breath. The air was crystal clear, silent, and carried a cold misty chill. The feeling of physical training while taking in this peaceful scenery was truly a luxurious experience, vastly different from the rushed mornings weaving through urban traffic in my past life.
I rotated my joints, warming up my body to enter a ready-to-operate state. Route objective: run from the center of the garden straight to the training grounds.
I began to stride. The running pace was maintained steadily, coordinating my breathing and heart rate like synchronizing an oscillating system. Upon arriving at the training grounds, I immediately increased the load, switching to high-intensity physical exercises to test the limits of my body's endurance. Muscle groups tensed, and sweat began to bead.
I focused on overclocking my stamina for a while longer, then glanced at the dial of the clock hanging on the training ground wall. The second hand precisely hit the 6:00 AM mark. I immediately concluded the workout session, returning to my room to wash off the sweat. After personal hygiene, I carefully put on the crisply ironed suit, smoothing the creases. A perfect outer shell is always a prerequisite before stepping out of the room.
When I made my way to the estate's main dining room, Lady Aiselin was already there. A pristine breakfast was laid out on the long table covered with a white silk cloth, but her attention did not seem to be on the food. In Aiselin's hands was a hardcover leather notebook. Her sapphire blue eyes were intently focused on the geometric lines she had sketched herself. It seemed the afterglow of last night's lesson on spatial coordinate systems still retained its allure, making her neglect her meal.
"Good morning, My Lady." I approached, bowing slightly and placing my right hand over my left chest in an incredibly elegant posture. "I hope you had a good night's sleep. With your permission, may I join you for the meal?"
Aiselin looked up, her eyes brimming with excitement. She gave a slight nod, signaling me to sit down. "Zero, you are right on time. I am trying to re-represent the structure of the shield magic according to the three coordinate axes you mentioned yesterday. Indeed, if we subdivide the directions of impact force, we can eliminate mana waste in the blind spots."
"You grasp concepts very quickly, My Lady." I pulled out a chair and sat opposite her, maintaining a measured and composed smile. "When we break down a complex structure into basic lines, controlling them becomes much more optimal. However, theory always requires caution when applied in practice."
Aiselin smiled slightly, her sapphire blue eyes shining with wisdom. "I understand. You always remind me about the stability of the system. Regardless, your method is opening up a completely new perspective for me."
Breakfast proceeded in the elegant tranquility inherent to the nobility. However, one variable had remained entangled in my deductive system since this morning.
"Come to think of it, My Lady," I set down my silver fork, maintaining a standard attitude as I spoke. "Since arriving at the estate, I have not yet had the honor of meeting the Second Young Lady, Cecilia. I wonder what her current condition is?"
As soon as that name was brought up, the smile on Aiselin's lips suddenly vanished. Her sapphire blue eyes, which usually shone with confidence, suddenly dimmed, carrying an indescribable tinge of sadness. She sighed softly, closing the notebook in her hands.
"She... has locked herself in her room ever since the day she was diagnosed by the mages as magically incompetent." Aiselin's voice deepened, carrying the helplessness of an older sister. "Cecilia refuses to see anyone, except for a few close servants who bring her meals."
Aiselin looked up straight at me, her gaze carrying a heavy weight of expectation. "I truly hope you can soon master one-star magic, Zero. When that time comes, please use your very own method of thinking to begin teaching her. I believe that the way you perceive this world could be the key for Cecilia."
I bowed my head slightly in caution, replying in the most resolute and measured tone possible: "Please rest assured, My Lady. Decrypting the Second Young Lady's phenomenon is also within my primary research roadmap. I will accelerate my progress in mastering mana. I will definitely find a way to reboot her potential."
Breakfast concluded. Aiselin quickly returned to the working grind of an heir. Through the glass window, I stood with my hands clasped behind my back, calmly observing her and two maids boarding the luxurious carriage bearing the Shirakawa family crest. The wheels rolled evenly across the paved ground, leaving the estate grounds. Based on the formal attire and the escort formation, I preliminarily calculated that this must be a trip related to the family's diplomatic activities or political negotiations. (She was actually going to a tea party)
The eldest lady had departed; the estate was temporarily absent of its master. Time did not permit any delays.
I returned to my room, grabbing the two magic books I had gone out of my way to borrow from the library the day before. Next destination: the outdoor training grounds. It was time to bring the functions and equations from paper into an experimental environment, to see how the magical circuits of this world would react under my frame of reference.
The outdoor training grounds of the Shirakawa estate were an isolated area, enclosed by specialized shock-absorbing barriers. This place was originally reserved exclusively for Eldest Lady Aiselin and Second Lady Cecilia to train, but during this time frame, it naturally became my own personal lab.
I chose a stone bench under the shade of a tree, carefully placing the two books—the history of magic and the comprehensive guide to one-star ice magic—onto the seat. Flipping open each page, I began the process of scanning and extracting data.
Nearly two hours passed. I closed the final book, gently rubbing the bridge of my nose, unconsciously clasping my hands together. The big picture of how this world operated its energy had been clearly sketched out in my head.
I understood how the mages here cast spells. They... essentially did not calculate at all.
Or to be more precise, the concepts they used were so primitive that calling it "mathematics" would be an absolute insult to modern science. Their process of navigating and outputting magic relied almost 100% on emotion, instinct, and subjective imagination. They visualized a flame, and pushed mana outward to form a flame. There were no equations of state, no thermodynamic controls, no variable limits.
From the perspective of a systems engineer, this method had a single practical combat advantage: extremely low latency for veteran users. When a mage was highly experienced in combat, these feelings transformed into conditioned reflexes. They didn't need to waste time inputting commands but could unleash and control that magic for battle.
But in exchange, its drawback was a structural disaster.
First, the risk ratio was too high. For novice mages, controlling a lethal stream of energy solely by "feeling" was no different from driving blindfolded on the edge of a cliff. A millimeter off, and the price paid was one's life due to mana backlash.
Second, and also the most fatal point: This method had almost zero inheritability and transferability.
How can you teach someone else something as vague as "intuition"? How can you quantify the concept of "a little colder" or "focus your mind a bit more"? One person's standard could very well be an overload level for someone else.
However, after a while of contemplation, tossing the problem back and forth, I realized I couldn't hastily negate the old system entirely. There had to be a reason this system had survived for hundreds of years. From an information processing perspective, skipping complex programming steps to run directly on "intuition" was actually an incredibly smart solution for the resource problem. This way, users wouldn't have to calculate too much, avoiding the risk of memory overflow and cognitive overload in urgent life-or-death situations.
Furthermore, the battlefield lacks ideal conditions. When a stream of magic is launched, it will face countless unexpected obstacles. Under a mathematical frame of reference, every obstacle that appears mid-flight is an extremely severe error, demanding massive calculation capability to instantly reset the trajectory. If one rigidly stuck to static formulas, the lag time in "recalculating" would cost the mage their life before the magic could hit its target.
Right at that moment, "perception" held absolute dominance. The intuition of someone with practical combat experience allowed them to steer the mana flow, flexibly adjusting the trajectory to smoothly dodge obstacles, gliding past variables without needing to waste time retyping the system of equations from scratch.
I tapped my finger lightly on the book, the corners of my mouth curling up slightly.
The old system was strong in its flexibility and unconditional reflexes in combat. My mathematics were strong in energy optimization, absolute precision, and systematization for transmission. If I could combine the "dynamic" of intuition with the "static" of systems of equations... that would be a revolution.
Wrapping up those deductions, I took the two books and headed out to the central area of the training grounds. This place was already set up with quite a few static targets made of leather-bound oak.
I took a breath, deciding to test run the system. Standing about 36 meters from the target, I began to mobilize my mana and chant, strictly adhering step-by-step exactly as the "textbook" instructed.
"Blah blah blah skibidi dop dop yes yes" (I didn't plan on coming up with a chant)
Energy gathered. A small, palm-sized magic circle spun in mid-air, and immediately after, an ice arrow slowly took shape.
Looking at the newly outputted product, I felt the pride of an engineer take a critical hit. The physical structure of this arrow was truly a disaster. It was flimsy, bumpy, and lacked cohesion to the point where I felt even a slight environmental vibration would be enough to shatter it. The ice molecule density was too sparse, completely failing mechanical durability standards.
Swallowing a sigh, I decided to finish testing the targeting system. I aimed the arrowhead toward the wooden target and launched it entirely based on feeling.
The disastrous result was exactly as my brain had projected.
The arrow zipped away with a completely skewed trajectory, grazing past the target by a shameful distance. Ultimately, it struck the stone wall behind and shattered into countless tiny ice fragments the moment it lightly touched. The wall surface didn't even retain a single scratch.
I stood silently in place, looking at the melting remains on the ground. Well, if this inferior weapon were brought into actual combat, perhaps using it to lower the opponent's body temperature on sweltering days would be much more reasonable and humane.
I looked dejectedly at the melting pile of shaved ice remains, then decided to set aside the empty theories in the textbook. It was time to operate the system the way a Ph.D. would.
The core problem was clear: my innate mana core had an exceedingly low capacity, no different from a low-quality freebie bought on Shopee; it could not supply enough current for a standard magical structure.
Technical solution: Instead of trying to create a giant arrow with a meager amount of mana, I would focus on signal amplification at the molecular bonding points and apply basic physics knowledge regarding solid crystal structures.
I stood with my back straight, not bothering to chant any silly incantations. In my head right now was not a vague image of ice, but an Oxyz coordinate axis system establishing maximum water molecule density, combined with thermodynamic equations to overclock the rapid freezing process. I coordinated my meager mana flow to run exactly into the crystal lattice nodes, compressing them tightly.
Swoosh.
A new ice arrow appeared. Needing no flashy magic circle, it hovered before me, radiating a sharp, freezing aura.
I looked at this final product, the corners of my mouth involuntarily curling into a proud smile. This was it! Its surface was perfectly smooth, transparent as crystal, but the internal structure was dense and sturdy. This was truly a weapon capable of piercing, not the cheap shaved ice meant for quenching thirst from earlier.
Next phase: Testing the guidance system. Target: The bullseye of the wooden target 36 meters away.
I quickly ran a simple trajectory calculation algorithm in my head, compensating for errors caused by gravity, wind direction, and air resistance. Target locked. Initiate launch sequence.
BOOM!
A crisp explosion rang out. The ice arrow zipped away at extremely high velocity, lodging straight into the dead center of the wooden target's bullseye. It embedded so deeply that the tail of the arrow was still vibrating violently, but the best part was that its entire structure remained intact, completely unbroken even by a tiny fragment.
Accuracy: 100%. Structural durability: Perfect. Energy conversion ratio: Optimal.
I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at the arrow embedded in the target, my engineering brain starting to crunch numbers again. With this method of signal amplification and structural optimization, I had overcome the limits of my own weak hardware.
The question posed right now was: With my current mana capacity, if I maintain this level of amplification, what is my limit? In other words, what is the maximum number of combat-standard arrows like this I can create under the same parameters?
A highly calculating smile appeared on my face. It seemed this training session was going to be very long.
End of Chapter 12.