Mage Adam

Under the immense pressure, Adam felt his body and soul on the verge of breaking apart. 

Priscilla, equally affected, looked pale but quickly stepped in front of Adam, shielding him from the crushing force. 

Without hesitation, she cast a spell—a compound-element magic unlike anything Adam had seen before—aimed directly at Yurius’s head.

“Yurius, damn it! Are you trying to kill us?!” she shouted.

Her spell, however, never reached its target. The gravitational vortex shredded it into nothingness before it could land. 

Luckily, Yurius regained control of himself just in time, and the terrifying magical energy vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Adam staggered, disoriented by the sudden change. Before he could recover, Yurius waved a hand, teleporting Priscilla away without explanation. He turned back to Adam with an awkward smile and shrugged. 

“Right... You’re just a level-four mage. My bad, my bad.” He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a silver pendant, tossing it to Adam. “Here, take this—it’ll keep you from getting squashed if I lose it again.”

Catching the pendant, Adam quickly recognized it as a high-grade transcendent magical artifact. 

Without hesitation, Adam put it on, knowing its value. Artifacts capable of withstanding eighth-level magic were rare treasures, highly sought after in the Tower’s markets.

With a casual gesture, Yurius manipulated gravity, pulling Adam along as they sped through the institute’s corridors. 

Distance and obstacles seemed meaningless under his command. As they moved, Adam noticed raw veins of radioactive ore embedded in the walls and mining tools strewn about. Strangely, the facility was eerily empty.

“Yurius, where are the other researchers?” Adam asked, his curiosity piqued.

“They’re gone,” Yurius said flatly. “Left over a year ago. Didn’t think these rocks were worth the effort. Now it’s just me. And you.”

He smirked, his disdain obvious. “Idiots. I told them these stones hold incredible secrets, but they wouldn’t listen. What about you, kid? You see it, don’t you? These rocks are extraordinary.”

Adam hesitated for a moment before responding carefully, “I think you’re absolutely right.”

Hearing this, Yurius’ face lit up. He threw an arm around Adam’s shoulders, pulling him in. “Finally! Someone who gets it! Don’t worry, kid. Now it’s just the two of us. Whatever we uncover, I’ll make sure you get a fair share. Then we’ll shove the results in those fools’ faces!”

Adam gave a cautious smile, gently stepping out of Yurius’ grasp. This mage was unlike anyone he’d met before—an eccentric genius who seemed to disregard all social norms, driven entirely by his obsessions. He fit the archetype of a mad scientist perfectly, teetering on the edge of brilliance and insanity.

They eventually arrived in a cavernous underground space. Spatial runes etched into the walls had clearly expanded the area far beyond its natural limits. 

Despite its vastness, the lab was sparsely equipped. A few refining devices hummed softly, surrounded by heaps of radioactive minerals glowing faintly in the dim light. 

Adam’s eyes lingered on the stones. Beneath their unassuming surface, he could sense immense potential, like a hidden key waiting to unlock an entirely new realm of knowledge.

Yurius, brimming with enthusiasm, practically dragged Adam to a seat, shoving a thick stack of experiment reports and data in front of him. 

“Look at these!” Yurius exclaimed, his voice a mixture of excitement and frustration. “These stones are insane! They hold an unbelievable amount of energy. I’ve managed to extract a fraction of it by compressing them with gravity, but the efficiency is terrible. Sometimes I think the energy doesn’t even come from the stones but from a reaction to my gravity manipulation.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Extracting energy from uranium ore using gravitational compression was a groundbreaking and dangerous achievement. The implications were staggering.

“I read the data you uploaded to the Mage Network when you discovered Cthulhu,” Yurius continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. “It hinted at this plane’s value. Come on, tell me—what else do you know? Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal your discoveries!”

Adam sighed, retrieving a personal chip from his robes. It was configured for the second Tower and optimized for data logging. He handed it to Yurius, who immediately bonded it to himself. Adam wasn’t concerned about his findings being stolen—explaining them in a way Yurius could grasp was the real challenge.

After a moment’s thought, Adam began with an analogy. “Let me put it like this. The energy released by an ordinary fireball spell can be considered 1 unit. If that spell explodes in a confined space, it would release about 4.19×10^{^6} units of energy in Earth-based terms.”

Yurius, fiddling with the chip, muttered, “Earth-based units? Ugh, too complicated. Let’s simplify. A fireball explosion equals 1 unit. Done.”

“Fine,” Adam said with a nod. “By that measure, if we could cause one kilogram of highly pure radioactive material to fully release its energy in a localized reaction, the result would equal around twenty million fireball spells.”

For a moment, Yurius didn’t respond. Then, twin beams of energy shot from his eyes, searing two deep holes into the floor. He blinked rapidly, staring at the ores, his voice barely above a whisper. “Twenty million fireball spells. These stones are incredible.”

Adam quickly interjected, “That’s the theoretical maximum. In reality, much of the energy would be lost, and controlling the reaction would require precision. The explosion would also have to be tightly contained.”

But Yurius was unfazed. “Even half of that—no, even a fraction—would be beyond what most high-level spells can do!” He slammed his hands onto the table, which promptly disintegrated into fine dust along with the reports. 

Ignoring the destruction, Yurius locked his blazing eyes on Adam. “If we could weaponize this—even for single-use tools targeting the material realm—it’d be devastating against anything below level five. This research is priceless!”

Leaning in closer, he asked with laser focus, “You know how to do it, don’t you?”

Adam hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Not exactly. This would need careful, step-by-step experiments to develop safely.”

Yurius waved dismissively. “Perfect! That’s why you’re here. Since this institute is now OUR institute, I’m officially naming you project lead!”

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but Yurius cut him off. “No need to thank me! I don’t care about titles or recognition anymore.”

“That’s not what—”

“All I care about is getting closer to the truth! To feel it, to grasp it, and to ascend to a Great Archmage! Everything else is trivial.” He gestured grandly, his voice growing more animated. “And when I do, I’ll mock those idiots for abandoning this research for an entire century!”

Finally finding a moment to cut in, Adam spoke firmly. “What I meant is that this project isn’t something we can handle on our own. We need more researchers—specialists who can help us push this forward.”

Yurius paused, visibly digesting the suggestion. Then, with a booming laugh, he slapped Adam on the back hard enough to make him stumble. “Fair enough! We’ll get more people. But they better not be like those spineless morons who left!”