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Chapter 162 (1) - The Academys Weapon Replicator



He had meticulously drawn every single line of the workshop\'s perspective view, ensuring nothing was missing.

Binkis approached and carefully examined the completed blueprint.

"...You really drew it."

"Of course."

Frondier replied as if it were obvious. He was told to draw it, so he did. As if he had simply carried out a natural task.

However, to Binkis, it wasn\'t obvious at all.

\'It\'s perfect. The spacing, the length, the connections between parts, every single element is flawless.\'

And above all, the moment she saw it, Binkis\' intuition told her.

This artifact is real. It\'s definitely usable. Its function will surely be exactly as Frondier described. The structure of the blueprint was already revealing its principles to Binkis\' discerning eyes.

\'This guy, what is he really?\'

Binkis felt a sense of awe, bordering on fear, towards Frondier.

The Frondier she met during the final exams, like everyone else at Constel, was clearly a warrior. Powerful skills and strength. And a quick-witted mind. Moreover, he was the owner of the rumored \'fireworks\'.

But the image he was showing today was completely opposite. He possessed talents more suited for a technician or researcher.

Can an individual possess such diverse talents, and at such a high level? Binkis had seen many students called geniuses, but none like Frondier.

Ellen Evans, known as the swordsman of the highest caliber, lacked Mana capacity. Elodie, bearing the name \'Inies\', despite being loved by the five gods, was still immature and clumsy with her power control.

Above all, most of those called geniuses were only so in one specific field.

Even Aster, clearly destined to be a hero of mankind, was only a genius as a swordsman. All his talents were necessary and exceptional for being a swordsman, which is why Aster was called a genius.

Binkis had never seen anyone like Frondier, displaying talent in completely different fields, especially those unrelated to combat.

\'...What if, from Frondier\'s perspective, it\'s all the same field?\'

Binkis pondered for a moment. If the talents of the students she had seen were called such because they were suited for a specific field, could Frondier\'s seemingly scattered talents actually be converging towards a single point?

If so, what would Frondier become at the end of that point?

"Excuse me, Professor. Could you take a look at this blueprint?"

"Ah, ah! Right."

Binkis, who had been silent, seemed surprised as Frondier spoke first. She cleared her thoughts and examined the blueprint.

"Hmm. So that\'s how it works. I thought it would be closer to a faucet, but it actually uses concentration. Mana is invisible before it manifests, but it\'s definitely a substance. It uses the concentration as a standard to determine the output of Mana. In other words, the Mana is filtered before the user fully activates the magic."

Binkis muttered something while looking at the blueprint. Of course,

Frondier barely understood what she was saying, despite being the one who drew it.

"Is it possible to modify this bracer to store Obsidian?"

"We\'ll have to try it, but it seems possible. However, since the liquid is naturally heavier than Mana, we\'ll need to focus on making it lighter. We\'ll also need to increase the length to expand the space. And we\'ll need to engrave Runes."

At Binkis\' words, Daud crossed his arms and snorted.

"As long as there\'s enough space to draw a circle, it\'s fine."

Reassuring words. Binkis smiled faintly and said,

"Well, shall we begin?"

* * *

While Binkis and Daud were modifying the three-dimensional blueprint, Frondier sat facing Edwin.

Edwin was carefully examining Frondier\'s hand, specifically his fingertips.

"Hmm, this should be enough to use fingerprints."

"Are there cases where fingerprints can\'t be used?"

"Quite a few. When they\'re worn down and too faint, or completely gone. It\'s rare for students, but I see it often at Constel. The family training must have been intense before they even enrolled. I can\'t imagine what they do."

Edwin then picked up the necklace Frondier had brought.

"When you use the necklace, remember the back here. Of course, we\'ll be making a new necklace, but the design won\'t change much. From now on, when you break it, press here with your finger."

"Does it matter which finger I use?"

"No. I\'ll register all ten fingerprints for you."

Edwin said it so casually that Frondier was momentarily confused. Is that really that easy? Judging by Sybil\'s open mouth as she listened quietly beside him, it didn\'t seem like it.

"Fingerprint recognition, that\'s amazing."

Fingerprint recognition felt very modern, so Frondier was genuinely impressed.

Meanwhile, Edwin was holding a lens-like object against Frondier\'s finger and injecting Mana into it. It seemed like he was recording the fingerprint. He wasn\'t sure.

"It\'s not that amazing since we use magic to magnify, observe, and record. In terms of principles, it\'s simpler than creating a flame. The important thing is maneuverability. Even with magic, you need to apply Mana thinly while maintaining a consistent Mana uniformity. It\'s more of a skill than magic. That\'s why so few people do it."

Edwin explained while checking and moving on to each of Frondier\'s fingers.

"Now, your left hand."

"...That\'s all it took?"

"Yes."

Frondier was speechless at the blunt reply and offered his left hand.

This person, maybe he never needed to feel inferior in the first place?

"...Frondier."

Still examining his fingers with the lens, Edwin spoke.

"What do you think about gods?"

"...Pardon?"

"You met Hephaestus, right? You even indirectly fought him. I thought your perspective might be different from others."

It was Sybil, who was listening quietly beside them, who actually perked up at Edwin\'s words.

Sybil remembered what Frondier had said in front of the sanctuary.

- I don\'t believe in gods. Because I don\'t believe in fate.

That had been the turning point that changed Sybil\'s values. She felt ashamed of her carefree thought that everything would work out on its own, and realized that her life was entirely hers, even if she received help.

But what about Frondier himself? What kind of life had he lived, what kind of experiences had he gone through, to make him say that?

"...I don\'t particularly have any thoughts about gods."


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