Ray pulled up the System interface. He wasn’t asking for an answer this time; he was testing a hypothesis.

“System,”

Ray commanded.

“Run simulation. Parameters: Overlay ‘Harmonic Concordance Ward’ with a secondary ‘Mana-Inversion Shell’ using Void-Glass dampeners. Objective: Mask Aetheric Signature.”

A blue grid overlaid his vision, scanning the complex geometry of the room and applying Ray’s theoretical model to the reality of the Sunstone.

[RUNNING SIMULATION…]

[CALCULATING VARIABLE: AETHERIC DENSITY…]

[CALCULATING VARIABLE: MATERIAL STRESS…]

Ray held his breath. If his math was off, the simulation would show a catastrophic failure.

[SIMULATION COMPLETE]

[PROPOSED MODEL: VIABLE.]

[EFFICIENCY: 94%.]

[RESULT: The proposed ‘Facade Protocol Array’ will successfully mask 99.8% of Aetheric Resonance, replacing it with a simulated ‘High-Density Mana’ signature.]

Ray exhaled, a sharp grin cutting across his face.

“We got him,”

Ray whispered.

“The Facade Protocol will mask the Aetheric resonance. It will sound like a standard mana battery.”

He looked around the room. The Genesis Crystal Chamber was no longer a barren cave. It was a bioluminescent jungle. Silver ferns brushed against his knees, and glowing moss carpeted the walls.

Conman: “What about the scenery? Even if it sounds right, it looks like an Aether-mutated rainforest. Landa isn’t blind.”

Ray considered his options.

Option A: Illusion.

Scholar: “Negative. Landa is a 7th Circle Wizard. He eats illusions for breakfast. If we try to cast a visual camouflage over this entire room, the mana distortion will be obvious. He’ll cast ‘True Seeing’ and realize we’re hiding something. An illusion is an admission of guilt.”

Option B: Deforestation.

Naturalist: “Don’t you dare mate! Look at this ecosystem! It’s stabilized! It’s beautiful! If you burn it, you’ll destabilize the local mana pressure!”

Ray nodded.

We can’t hide it. And we can’t destroy it.

He walked over to a massive fern, touching its silver-veined leaf.

So, we own it!

Ray decided.

Conman: “Rebranding. I like it.”

“This isn’t an Aether mutation,”

Ray murmured as he rehearsed, the lie forming smoothly on his tongue.

“This is… ‘Bio-Thaumaturgic Waste Recycling.’”

Scholar: “Brilliant. The Ashvane Framework doesn’t just resolve the Fraying; it converts the leaking entropy into harmless, high-density Life Mana. The plants are proof of efficiency. We aren’t hiding a leak; we’re showing off a garden.”

Ray smirked.

“Exactly. We don’t hide the forest. We tell him it’s a feature, not a bug. It proves the new system based on the Ashvane Framework is safer than the old one.”

Ray opened his tool bag.

“System,”

Ray commanded, his voice echoing in the crystalline chamber.

“Initiate ‘Facade Protocol’ design phase. Tap all available innate and Archetype skills for synthesis.”

[AFFIRMATIVE.]

[INITIATING DESIGN MATRIX…]

[ACCESSING HOST SKILL DATABASE…]

Ray felt a strange sensation in his mind, like four different hands grabbing the same wheel, but steering in perfect unison.

[INTEGRATING: INNATE SKILL SPELLCRAFTING (MASTER) For the structural framework…]

[INTEGRATING: ARCANE ANALYSIS (ECCENTRIC SCHOLAR) For the math…]

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[INTEGRATING: AETHER WEAVING (SERENE CULTIVATOR) For the interface…]

[INTEGRATING: NATURAL CAMOUFLAGE (PRIMAL NATURALIST) For The mimicry…]

Ray watched the progress bar in his HUD, feeling the strain of the mental fusion.

[SYNTHESIS COMPLETE.]

[NEW BLUEPRINT GENERATED: THE FACADE PROTOCOL ARRAY.]

[COMPLEXITY: TIER-5 (GRANDMASTER).]

[SUCCESS PROBABILITY: 98.4%.]

Ray exhaled, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. The design was done. It was a masterpiece of biological mimicry and arcane engineering.

“System,”

Ray ordered.

“Project the array. Overlay on the Harmonic Concordance Ward.”

[PROJECTING…]

The air in front of Ray shimmered.

A complex, three-dimensional lattice of blue light snapped into existence, wrapping around the existing ward. It looked like a cage of light designed to fit perfectly over the burning reactor of the Sunstone Heart.

It was beautiful. Thousands of intersecting lines waited to be filled.

He activated the Arcane Scribe’s ‘Perfect Recall (Symbols)’ skill. His eyes started to dilate, turning into like camera shutters. He swept his gaze across the massive, floating blue diagram. He didn’t just look at it; he devoured it. Every angle, every intersection, every variable was burned instantly into his memory, stored in a static, perfect image within his mind’s eye.

[BLUEPRINT ACQUIRED.]

[EIDETIC RENDERING: ACTIVE.]

He blinked. The blueprint was now overlaying his vision permanently, independent of the System. He could close his eyes and still see exactly where the ink needed to go.

“System,”

Ray said, eyeing the complexity of the lattice.

“List the Materials. What do I need to make this possible?”

[CALCULATING MATERIAL REQUIREMENTS…]

[1. INSULATOR: Void-Glass Paste (High Viscosity).]

[2. CONDUCTOR: Star-Metal Dust (99% Purity).]

[…]

As he reviewed the material list, a secondary notification caught his eye. It was blinking in the corner of his HUD, related to the ‘Venting System’ he had installed months ago to prevent the Sunstone from exploding.

[ENVIRONMENTAL ANOMALY DETECTED]

[LOCATION: Sunken Vaults (Sub-Level 4)]

[DATA: The controlled release of excess Aether via the vents has saturated the lower dungeon levels.]

[RESULT: Localized purification of corrupted fauna. Hostile Entity Density decreased by 15%. Mutation rate stabilized.]

Ray blinked.

Purification?

He had almost forgotten about it. The modification he did on the other ward at the end of the halls outside the Genesis Crystal chamber, it vents the sunstone to bloom automatically, which acts like a magical bleach, scrubbing away the chaotic corruption from the Sunken Vaults.

He shook his head. That was a mystery for later. Right now, he had a facade to build.

He looked at the material list again for the ‘Facade Protocol Array.’

Star-Metal Dust.Void-Glass.Refined Liquid Mana.

These weren’t things he could scavenge. These were controlled high-tier reagents. Expensive. Restricted.

Ray smiled. Good thing he wasn’t just a student anymore.

Quartermaster Hekk was an institution unto himself. He was an ancient, withered mage with skin like parchment and eyes like a counting weasel. He sat behind the iron-barred counter of the Academy Vaults, guarding the supplies with a miserly ferocity that terrified even the faculty.

Ray walked up to the counter.

Hekk didn’t look up from his ledger immediately. He sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling.

“I remember that smell,”

Hekk wheezed, his voice dry as dust.

“You’re the one who bought three vials of high-grade conductive silver and a block of geometric containment chalk. That was a strange shopping list, boy. Strange enough that the Headmaster herself came down to check the receipt the next day.”

Hekk’s gaze drifted to the man standing behind Ray.

It was a servant, a massive, hulking brute in plain grey wool, standing with his hands clasped respectfully behind his back. Hekk sneered.

Students with servants. Typical noble laziness.

He didn’t recognize the man as the newly promoted Gold Aegis Captain; he just saw a wall of muscle.

“If you’re here for more scribing supplies to doodle on your dorm walls, fill out a form,”

Hekk spat.

Ray didn’t say a word. He placed a new requisition form on the wood.

Hekk sighed, picking it up with two fingers.

“Let’s see. Probably more ink, maybe some…”

Hekk’s voice choked off. He froze.

“Star-Metal Dust?”

He looked at Ray. He looked at the silent servant. Then back at the list.

“Void-Glass? Refined Liquid Mana?”

“Are you insane, boy?”

Hekk hissed.

“This isn’t a shopping list; it’s a king’s ransom. These are Restricted-Class reagents!”

He shook his head violently.

“Denied. I don’t move this stock without a Department Head’s signature and a budget audit.”

Ray didn’t argue. He reached into his tunic and pulled out the heavy silver object.

CLACK.

He placed the Custodian’s Crest onto the countertop.

Hekk stared at it. He grumbled, snatching up his Master’s Slate to scan it, intending to reject the invalid code.

PING.

The slate flared green.

[AUTHORITY: DEPARTMENT HEAD LEVEL (PROVISIONAL)]

[REQUISITION APPROVAL: HEADMASTER LEVEL]

Hekk stared at the slate, then at the small boy, then at the massive servant who hadn’t moved a muscle. A massive sense of déjà vu washed over him.

“Again,”

Hekk muttered, baffled.

“She gave you the override again.”

He let out a defeated groan.

THUD.

He stamped the form.

“I don’t know what you’re building, Artificer,”

Hekk grumbled, unlocking the vault.

“But if you blow up my storeroom, I’m billing your estate.”

Ten minutes later, the heavy iron gate of the vault rattled open.

Ray walked out. Behind him, the massive servant pushed a cart stacked high with crates of Void-Glass and canisters of Liquid Mana.

Svane pushed the heavy cart with one hand, effortlessly maneuvering the priceless cargo as if it were a basket of laundry.

Ray didn’t look back. He led the way, his bodyguard and his supplies in tow, heading back to the Headmaster’s office to start the job.

The work was grueling, a marathon of precision that stretched over three long days.

Ray treated it like a job, a dangerous, high-stakes job.

Each morning, Ray would leave his suite with Captain Svane at his heel. They would walk through the silent, empty corridors to the Headmaster’s office, where Svane would take up his post at the fireplace, a silent sentinel, and Ray descending alone via the ‘Academy Founder’s Stairs’ down into the Genesis Crystal chamber level.

For twelve hours a day, Ray worked. He would use the Arcane Scribe’s ‘Eidetic Rendering’ skill and project the ‘Facade Protocol Array’ then use the other ‘Precision Engraving’ skill, to engrave complex, microscopic rune-chains over the existing ward using the Void-Glass paste. He dusted the lines with Star-Metal to conduct the flow. It was like performing open-heart surgery on a star.

Each evening, he would ascend, vibrating with Aetheric residue and mental exhaustion. He would return to the suite looking like a ghost.

And each evening, Rina would be waiting.

She didn’t ask questions. She simply had a plate of high-density, nutrient-rich food ready, roast fowl, heavy root vegetables, and honey-glazed oats. Ray would eat with the desperate hunger of a starving man, the Crimson Weaver’s Neural Gastronomy converting the calories directly into mental recovery, knitting his frayed concentration back together for the next day.

Without her food and Svane’s protection, the work would have killed him.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep