07 – Ingenious Plan

Ethan held the bar of soap up to the sunlight, the pink hue catching the light and shimmering. It wasn't perfect, but a thrill ran through him. It was his creation. Well, technically not, but he still made something. His first creation in this new world.

The urge to try it was overwhelming. He could picture the luxurious lather, the clean scent of flowers, and the gentle scrub. Roland stood beside him; his brow furrowed in concern. "My Lord," he started hesitantly, "perhaps you should allow me to test it first? New inventions can be... unpredictable."

Ethan considered this. There was low to zero chances of something going awry, however, Roland was right. While the science behind soap-making was sound, there was always a chance he'd messed up somewhere. Besides, Roland was strong, far stronger than Ethan, at the very least.

"You're right, Roland," he conceded. "You shall be the first to experience the wonders of my Magnificent Multipurpose Marvelous Soap!" Ethan cringed the moment he said it.

Ethan caught Roland's lips twitching at the overly dramatic title, but the man bowed his head and Ethan didn't pursue it either—he felt rather embarrassed after all. "As you wish, my Lord," Roland said.

Roland hesitantly picked up a bar of soap, his fingers brushing the smooth surface. "It looks...interesting," he said diplomatically.

"Interesting indeed. Now, take it to the bathhouse and tell me everything. Does it lather well? Is it a good scrub? And most importantly, does it leave your skin feeling like the softest velvet?"

Roland did as instructed, and as Ethan paced the workshop, anxiety churned in his stomach. He'd poured hours of research and effort into this project, and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

Finally, Roland returned, a smile gracing his lips. "My Lord," he started, "the soap... it's magnificent."

Ethan's heart soared. "See? I told you!"

"The lather is rich and creamy," Roland continued, "the soap provides a gentle but effective scrub, and my skin feels... invigorated. Clean. And the scent is subtle but delightful. This is easily the best soap I've tried, and beats the luxurious ones in quality."

Relief washed over Ethan. He couldn't help but grin like a child who'd just won a game. "A masterpiece, just as I promised!" He eyed the soap thoughtfully. "Although, perhaps a touch less pink next time. Maybe a calming blue for a relaxing bath?"

Roland chuckled. "Perhaps, my Lord."

As Ethan busied himself with planning future variations, a thought struck him. Jack was still missing. The blight-repellent properties were a crucial part of the equation. Without them, the soap was a luxury, not a necessity.

Though, I am thinking of creating three versions—one that's simple soap; one that's a simple soap with blight-repellent properties; lastly, one that's the highest quality that I'll be using to rip off the noblemen and noblewomen.

"Roland. Prepare a message for Jack. Inform him that his contribution to the project is urgently needed. We require his brilliance to complete this magnificent soap!"

Roland bowed. "As you wish, my Lord."

***

The stench of decay from the observation chamber had to be a constant reminder of the urgency of Jack's task—he spent his days hunched over his workbench, surrounded by bubbling vials and glowing crystals. Through tireless observation of the Blight organisms through his magical construct, a picture began to form in his mind.

These weren't simply mindless creatures, that much had been certain. They moved in predefined patterns, a complex moveset that seemed to exploit weaknesses in a host's natural mana defenses—unless said host did not possess mana, which was a rare case, but nothing unheard of. Each Blight type—there were more than he initially expected, given that the organisms usually separated and evolution struck them differently due to changes in their environments or hosts—had its own unique signature.

Jack had been busy meticulously recording these patterns, sketching them in a hefty tome.

"Sir Jack," Miller said, bringing him out of his thoughts. Jack looked at the bespectacled man.

"Yes, Sir Miller?"

"A messenger of Lord Theodore arrived just now."

"Oh? What did he say?"

"The soap is ready," Miller said. "And Lord Theodore has also sent us samples, the messenger relayed that more will be coming. Lord Theodore has allowed you to use as many as you want if it means hurrying the process. It also means that he's expecting results soon."

Jack rubbed his temples. That was earlier than he'd expected.

"Okay, I'll... do something."

"Yes, Sir Jack. However, according to the message, mass-production is quite far yet, so you need not worry too much."

...

Jack stared at the patterns he'd scribbled into the tome. The real challenge wasn't these patterns, it was designing a spell that could adapt. Mana was a fickle thing. It flowed naturally, seeking the path of least resistance. Its inherent movement would cause it to dissipate from a solid bar of soap like smoke escaping a cracked pot. The answer came in a flash of inspiration during a sleepless night when Miller was busy importing more soap bars—Lord Theodore had been doing his part flawlessly (Jack had even tested the soap himself and he had to say, it was the most luxurious soap he'd ever used). Regardless, back to mana: it wasn't just energy, it was information as well. A spell could be designed to not only target the Blight organisms but also imprint the movement patterns it encountered onto the mana itself. By imbuing the soap with a base spell, he could create a "reservoir" for the returning information. This "mana imprint" could then be used to refine the targeting spell, allowing it to adapt to the ever-evolving Blight.

Jack didn't just need to craft a spell, he needed to design a "web" of information, of sorts. But how can I do that? Jack hummed, playing with his pencil. Thinking for a while, he wrote down his thoughts.

So, first off, I think the base spell needs to do the following things:

It should have a function that creates a "reservoir" within itself to hold the "mana imprint". This imprint will store information about Blight movement patterns. The mechanics should be simple: the spell wouldn't be directly manipulated by me, but the spell-imprinted into each soap—would act as a "beacon" of sorts. Given that there's still the issue of containment. I need a way to keep the mana from simply leaving the soap altogether. There's two parts I have in mind: Targeting: This attracts and binds ambient mana to the soap whenever the mana reservoir hits a critical amount. Imprinting: When the soap comes into contact with the Blight, the spell interacts with this particular Blight's unique energy signature. This can, in theory, create a resonance that leaves an imprint on the mana reservoir. The imprint could be a simple fluctuation in the mana flow or a more complex pattern depending on the Blight's movement. The Mana Imprint: This is the crucial element for adaptation. The Blight's imprint on the mana encodes information about its movement patterns. The raw imprint needs to be translated into actionable information. I might need to develop a separate decryption ritual to extract the Blight's movement patterns. Here's where it gets innovative. I want a web of enchanted soaps sharing information. When a soap encounters the Blight, the mana imprint is created (If the moveset is already in the database, it'll quickly exterminate, however, if the moveset is new, it'll need to send it to all the other soaps). This is needlessly complex, in my opinion, but uh... I don't know anymore. I need an updating network: Imagine each soap as a tree in a forest. As information from individual soaps gets integrated, the base spell itself can be updated—they all need to be connected. I think it'll require a constant source of mana and a central... nexus(?) of sorts? I need to talk to Lord Theodore on this. Regardless, this "update" could be a refined targeting sequence or a more efficient Blight-imprint capturing method. There are, however, challenges. First off, distance—the biggest hurdle is transmitting the information between soaps. I might need to develop a link between the soaps themselves(or more like, the spell imprinted inside each soap). This link could be established during the enchanting process, creating a network where information flows passively as the soaps come closer to each other. HOWEVER, I think it's gonna need that central nexus I mentioned above. All this information needs to be managed. Not to mention it would be hard to make. Lastly, and most importantly... How can I make the base spell that I'll put into each soap? It'll need constant mana to function—even if a miniscule amount.

The solution, he realized with a frown, was a fucking mess. All this, for SOAP? Jack shook his head, then leaned back. Now... How can I make all this shit? What am I even making?

***

Ethan flopped onto the soft grass, laughing as Wynd nipped at his shoelace. He swatted playfully, then rolled onto his back, offering his belly for a rub. Wynd circled him once, tail wagging. Finally, with a soft whine, the pup nudged Ethan's outstretched hand with his nose.

"Alright, alright, belly rubs it is," Ethan chuckled, scratching behind Wynd's fluffy ears. The pup sighed contentedly, rolling onto his back and presenting his soft underbelly. Ethan scratched, marveling at the faint, swirling patterns etched onto Wynd's fur there. They were like constellations. Suddenly, Wynd's playful demeanor shifted. He lifted his head, ears perked. A low growl rumbled in his tiny chest. Ethan sat up, following Wynd's gaze.

Across the meadow, a lone crow perched on a weathered fence post. Its beady eyes seemed to fix on them. Ethan knew crows. They were scavengers, but this one felt different. There was a sly intelligence in its stare. Wynd's growl deepened, a soft, electric hum crackling around him. The fur on his back bristled.

"Easy there, boy," Ethan soothed, placing a hand on Wynd's flank. The pup calmed slightly but kept his wary gaze fixed on the crow. As if on cue, the bird cawed harshly, then launched itself into the air, circling lazily around Ethan before settling near him, giving him a parchment.

Ethan picked it up as usual. It was from Jack. This was the [Necromancer's] preferred way of sending messages.

Wynd whined again, nudging Ethan's hand with his nose. "Alright, alright. Let's head back. Maybe Grandma Millie has some of those rabbit stew leftovers you love."

Grandma Millie was an old [Beast Tamer]—she was honestly less a tamer, more an old lady that loved animals. And she'd been taking care of Wynd. With Wynd trotting at his side, Ethan turned away from the setting sun, heading back toward his manor.

On the way to the manor, he recalled something. I need introductory books; I should look for Roland.

He found him training in the field behind the manor. It wasn't a full-on training area. It was a garden, and when Theo had come to Holden with Roland in tow, Roland had requested a small patch for himself so he could create a place where he could train.

He looked calm as he practiced. Despite sweating profusely, he remained focused—so much, in fact, that he didn't even notice Ethan approaching him. Perhaps, he did, but as Ethan posed no threat, he subconsciously ignored him. Ethan couldn't quite tell, and he didn't particularly care, either. He waited patiently. Roland made his final swing as his training came to an end. With his practice done and his wooden sword put away, Roland wiped his forehead clean of his sweat, and finally took a look at Ethan, and greeted him, bowing slightly.

"My lord, I apologize. I did not see you approaching." He said, while also casting his gaze towards the setting sun in the distance.

"It's alright."

"Do you require my assistance for some matter, perhaps?" Roland asked.

"Yes, in fact, I do," Ethan nodded. "I would like you to get me books on magic. Books regarding the fundamentals. Theory, history, different disciplines—everything you can find related to the foundational knowledge of magic."

Roland blinked at him, furrowing his brows. "My lord, my apologies, but books regarding magic are quite expensive—and given the current state of the barony, I do not think it's wise to spend so much on books."

"Don't worry, Roland. I understand the limitations of the barony's coffers. I won't be spending its funds on this. I'll be paying myself."

Though... I'm soon going to run low on the money. The thought was depressing; thus, he quickly focused his attention on something else—the flicker of surprise that crossed Roland's face. He likely knew, of course, that Theo wasn't naive about the world. The young lord, however much of a fucked-up cunt he was, had had a sharp mind, and his experiences, though brief, hadn't been sheltered. Still, the willingness to spend personal funds on something like magic was unexpected—especially given that Theo had been deemed a manaless in the past.

Roland did not know that Ethan had taken over Theo, and that due to the system's awakening, Ethan could utilize mana—not to mention he was already a [Mage]. When he'd used magic back in Deadwoods, Roland had been shocked, and it'd been rather fun looking at his face.

"My lord," Roland began cautiously, bringing Ethan's attention back to him. "While I appreciate your resolve, magic isn't something easily learned from books. Most foundational knowledge isn't even readily available in texts. The elemental towers that dot the continent hold a tight grip on magical knowledge."

Ethan nodded. "The elemental towers, yes. Water, air, fire, earth, metal, all the elementals; not to mention there's some non-elemental that hold quite the sway given their importance. Say, the Alchemy Tower. They hold a monopoly of the Blight's cure, I'm sure they wouldn't be pleased finding out that I'll be mass-producing a more effective and far cheaper alternative. Each of the towers holds significant pull over their specific magical discipline, after all, and the [Alchemists] are no different."

"Indeed, my lord," Roland confirmed. "Many a young mage dreams of becoming a disciple under one of the tower masters. The knowledge they impart is unparalleled, far surpassing what any book could offer, but the towers are selective in their disciples. They require rigorous testing and complete devotion. Not everyone has the talent or the temperament to endure their trials."

"And let's not forget the cost," Ethan added. "The towers, with all their influence, wouldn't be above charging a hefty sum for their tutelage, I imagine."

Roland bowed slightly. "Precisely, my lord. Magic books are scarce and expensive for a reason. The towers want to control the flow of knowledge given that magic books are like gold to them; they make sure only those they deem worthy—and a profitable investment—can have access. Towers are selective about what knowledge escapes their walls"

"Which brings us back to my original request," Ethan stated, his voice firm. "I may not be able to afford a tower's tutelage, but surely there are some basic texts out there, even for children's education? The absolute fundamentals, the kind that wouldn't raise an eyebrow at the local market."

Roland hesitated for a moment, then frowned. "Very well, my lord. I shall do my best to find what you require, at the most reasonable price possible. Perhaps not the most in-depth studies, but there might be some introductory material available if I were to sift through some of our black-market channels. It wouldn't be much, but it would be a start."

A brief exchange occurred between them, with Roland telling Ethan not to expect results anytime soon and him giving the warrior leave. Finally, his guard walked away, leaving Ethan alone. Ethan, of course, returned to his manor. Though he did look at the training ground for a moment. Maybe I should also start physical training? I gain skills quite easily, and it would be better to be proficient in not only magic but also something physical? he thought. Yeah, it would be worth it.

...

Ethan stared, aghast, at the sprawling notes before him. Jack had laid out a freaking marvel on paper. This wasn't some glorified Blight-zapper for magical virus. This was... oh man, this was groundbreaking on a level Ethan hadn't even dared to dream of in this magic-infused world. His mind raced back to Earth. Back to the internet, the vast, interconnected web that brought information to his fingertips at a moment's notice. Back to the days he'd spent traversing forums, researching obscure topics, the sheer volume of human knowledge readily available. Here, Jack had stumbled upon a similar concept—a network, a way for information to flow and be shared.

This is... like the internet, Ethan thought. Except, instead of fiber optic cables and satellites, Jack was using enchanted soap and freaking magic. This was like inventing the printing press in the middle of the caveman era, only ten times more mind-blowing.

An information network, Ethan thought, the term echoing in his head like a broken record. Who the fuck is Jack? He can't be some normal dude.

A shiver ran down his spine. This wasn't just about the Blight anymore. The implications were staggering. Imagine a network not for Blight extermination, but for knowledge sharing. This could revolutionize communication in this magic-addled world.

But the challenges… Ethan winced. The sheer logistical nightmare of maintaining a magical network like this was enough to make his head spin. Distance, a central nexus (as proposed by Jack), a constant mana source... These were hurdles that could very well spell doom for Jack's ingenious idea—but they were doable. There's bound to be more issues. But maybe, they could create a small-scale version first?

He glanced at the final line of Jack's notes: "…need to talk to Lord Theodore on this." A wry smile played on Ethan's lips. So, the main issue right now is that Jack doesn't know how to create such an imprint. In my opinion, the main issue is that this ingenious dude is too into his own mind when the solution can be something far simpler...

Ethan had realized what Jack wanted—more like, needed. He looked over at his [Basic Rune Creation] skill.

He just needs a basic mana-gathering rune—or more like, motes—inside each soap... Ethan sighed, rubbing his temples, the corner of his lips twitching. Looks like it was time for Lord Theodore to step in and play his part.