Chapter 195: The Young Researcher [2]

Ilya had underestimated how much work could be produced by a single successful experiment.

Three days.

That was the deadline Professor Antoine had given him to prepare an analysis of the modified mana regulator, and by the second evening, Ilya had already filled several pages with calculations, observations, and explanations of the apparatus’s limitations.

Unfortunately, the more he examined their results, the more problems he discovered.

The auxiliary channel had extended the regulator’s operating time from twenty-four seconds to eighty, which was an impressive improvement under the circumstances. However, the experiment had also revealed that excess mana accumulated faster as the primary crystal’s output declined.

Their solution worked only while the difference remained within certain limits.

Beyond that, the secondary channel would eventually reach capacity and force the apparatus to shut down.

There was also the problem of efficiency.

Although their modified construction consumed less energy than the original discharge mechanism, the additional control formation still required mana to function.

In other words, they had exchanged one limitation for another.

Ilya found that rather annoying.

Still, it was better than having no solution at all.

He had spent enough years practicing swordsmanship to understand that improvement rarely came from solving every problem at once. Sometimes, correcting a single flaw was enough to make an entire technique practical.

The same principle ought to apply to magical engineering.

At least, that was what he told himself while staring at the calculations scattered across his desk.

"You’re going to ruin your eyes."

Ilya recognized the voice before looking up.

Solenne Vernet stood beside his table, carrying a small collection of books against her chest. She had apparently finished her afternoon lectures and was on her way out of the library when she noticed him.

"That’s unfortunate," Ilya replied. "I was hoping to ruin my hands first."

Solenne smiled before taking the empty seat across from him.

She had already heard about the experiment.

News traveled surprisingly quickly among the students involved in SkyRune’s research, particularly when a project that had been struggling for several days finally produced encouraging results.

Apparently, Ilya’s contribution had attracted some attention.

"I heard Professor Antoine gave you an assignment afterward. How’s that going?"

"Apparently, success is punishable by paperwork."

"Then you must be doing wonderfully."

"That’s a generous interpretation."

Solenne laughed quietly before asking to see his notes.

Although she wasn’t directly involved in the workshop’s technical research, her familiarity with the Vernet Consortium’s business interests had given her a reasonable understanding of Rune Tech development.

The consortium financed several projects involving magical machinery, and Solenne had spent enough time reviewing reports to recognize the difference between a promising experiment and a commercially useful invention.

After examining Ilya’s calculations, she asked a question he hadn’t considered.

"How much would the additional channel cost to manufacture?"

Ilya looked at her.

"Honestly? I have no idea."

"Then you should probably include that in your report."

She explained that efficiency improvements weren’t necessarily valuable if they required expensive materials or complicated manufacturing processes. A regulator that consumed slightly less mana might still be impractical if producing it cost several times as much as an existing model.

Ilya understood the problem immediately.

His analysis had focused almost entirely on magical performance, while the practical requirements of manufacturing had received little attention.

It was an embarrassing oversight.

"You’re right. I’ll add a section comparing the materials."

"Good. Otherwise, Professor Antoine might ask you to invent a cheaper version too."

"Don’t give him ideas."

Solenne seemed rather pleased with herself.

Before leaving, she also offered to obtain some published manufacturing estimates through the consortium’s ordinary research archives, provided the information wasn’t restricted.

Ilya accepted gratefully.

There was something reassuring about having a friend whose family understood the financial consequences of scientific enthusiasm.

Left to their own devices, researchers might invent a machine that saved one gold coin’s worth of mana every year while requiring a hundred gold coins to manufacture.

Then they would spend another decade improving it.

Perhaps this was why people like Solenne existed.

Someone had to prevent civilization from bankrupting itself in the pursuit of interesting questions.

By the following afternoon, Ilya had completed his report.

He submitted it to Antoine shortly before the workshop began, expecting the professor to review it later.

Instead, Antoine opened the document immediately.

For several minutes, Ilya watched him examine the calculations with an expression that revealed absolutely nothing.

Then the professor reached the section discussing manufacturing costs.

"Hm. You considered the materials."

"Miss Vernet pointed out that I was overlooking something important."

"Did she?"

Antoine continued reading.

When he finally finished, he returned the document to Ilya with several sections marked.

The evaluation was better than Ilya expected.

His calculations were largely correct, the experimental observations were organized properly, and his conclusions remained within what their measurements could support.

However, Antoine had identified several assumptions that required additional evidence.

Most notably, Ilya had treated the relationship between the primary circuit and the auxiliary channel as though their interaction would remain consistent under different operating conditions.

There was no guarantee of that.

"You’re extrapolating from a single successful configuration," Antoine explained. "The theory is reasonable, but until you’ve tested it at different loads, you don’t know whether the relationship holds."

Ilya examined the marked section.

That was fair.

Their experiment had demonstrated that the modification worked under one set of conditions. It hadn’t established how the apparatus would behave with different crystals, higher outputs, or prolonged operation.

"Then we need more measurements."

"Exactly. Preferably before someone decides to publish the result."

Antoine sounded amused.

He then instructed Ilya to assist the older students with the next series of experiments.

This time, they would focus on determining precisely when the auxiliary channel became unstable.

The apparatus had already been modified to allow its internal capacity to be adjusted, and several mana crystals with different output characteristics had been prepared.

Ilya joined the group without complaint.

Compared to writing another report, actual experimentation sounded almost relaxing.

That impression lasted approximately twenty minutes.

Their first test produced results close to what the previous experiment suggested.

The second lasted longer than expected.

During the third, however, the regulator shut down after only eleven seconds.

One of the older students checked the measuring instruments and frowned.

"That doesn’t make sense. The crystal’s output should be well within the acceptable range."

They repeated the test.

The same result occurred.

This time, Ilya paid closer attention to the sequence of changes.

The auxiliary channel began accumulating mana almost immediately, despite the primary circuit showing no significant instability.

That was strange.

Under their original assumptions, the secondary channel should have received excess energy only when the main circuit’s flow exceeded the regulator’s capacity.

Yet the apparatus was redirecting mana even when no correction appeared necessary.

Ilya examined the construction.

Then he noticed something.

The temporary control formation measured the incoming mana against a fixed reference established when the apparatus activated.

That reference worked reasonably well when the primary crystal’s output remained stable.

Unfortunately, different crystals had slightly different discharge characteristics.

Their control formation was responding to a difference that existed only because its reference had been established incorrectly.

"We might be measuring the wrong thing," Ilya suggested.

The older students gathered around the apparatus while he explained his observation.

The problem became clearer once they compared the failed experiments.

Every time the regulator used a crystal whose initial output differed substantially from the reference value, the auxiliary channel began accumulating mana prematurely.

The apparatus was essentially correcting a problem that didn’t exist.

One of the students suggested recalibrating the reference for every crystal.

That would work, but Ilya suspected it would introduce another inconvenience.

A regulator intended for general use shouldn’t require a researcher to adjust it every time someone replaced its power source.

Instead, he proposed using the output circuit itself as the reference.

The regulator’s purpose was to maintain a consistent output, after all. Measuring the difference between the actual output and the desired output would make more sense than relying entirely on the characteristics of the incoming energy.

The others considered the suggestion.

This time, however, they didn’t immediately begin modifying the device.

One of the fourth-year students pointed out that using the output as feedback could introduce a delay. If the regulator responded too slowly, fluctuations might pass through before the correction took effect.

Ilya acknowledged the concern.

After some discussion, they agreed to test the concept using a simplified external formation before attempting to incorporate it into the regulator.

The experiment was less impressive than the previous day’s success.

Their first attempt failed.

The second produced an unstable feedback cycle.

By the third, however, they managed to maintain a reasonably consistent output for several seconds.

It was enough to demonstrate that the approach deserved further investigation.

Antoine reviewed the results and approved another round of experiments.

"Good. Now we have something worth testing properly."

Ilya found himself smiling.

There was a peculiar satisfaction in discovering that an apparently complicated problem had originated from an assumption everyone had accepted without questioning.

Of course, the discovery had also produced several new problems.

Research seemed remarkably efficient at doing that.

By the time the workshop concluded, Ilya had acquired another collection of calculations to examine.

He also had an increasingly clear understanding of why Antoine’s students appeared so comfortable spending entire afternoons arguing over diagrams.

Every successful experiment revealed another question.

And every unanswered question suggested something else worth trying.

As Ilya gathered his belongings, Antoine approached him once more.

"Belozersky, do you have a moment?"

"Of course, Professor."

"I’d like you to continue working with this group. You seem to have a useful instinct for identifying problems in how magical forces interact."

Ilya appreciated the compliment, although he knew better than to mistake it for evidence of extraordinary talent.

He had simply encountered similar principles through his own experiences with magic.

Nevertheless, the professor’s next words caught his attention.

"Once you’ve become more familiar with the equipment, I may have something more interesting for you to examine."

"Another regulator?"

Antoine smiled.

"Something a little older."

That was all he offered before returning to his desk.

Ilya considered asking for details, but the professor had already resumed reviewing the day’s measurements.

Apparently, Antoine intended to leave the matter there.

Fair enough.

Ilya had enough work to occupy him for the moment.

Besides, if there was one thing he had learned since joining SkyRune, it was that Professor Antoine had an unfortunate habit of finding interesting questions.

And then making his students answer them.