Chapter 291: Knowledge Is Wealth

Avia, Wang Yu, and Sieg headed from the crown of the Tree of Life to the corridor of inverted gravity currently lifting Iron King Bogul skyward. Together, they stepped into the corridor as well.

The gravitational magic generated an upward force precisely calibrated to about 1.2 times the weight of those within, ensuring that their speed would gradually stabilize as they rose.

This gravitational magic, magnified to a colossal scale in the form of an immense anti-gravity array, was exactly what kept Skyborne City afloat.

Wang Yu and the others, along with the elves who had been granted permission to enter Skyborne City, began their gradual ascent.

As a liaison working closely with the elves of Liaheim, Icarus took the opportunity to explain a few key rules.

“The Skyborne City is far more wondrous than it may first appear. Its true grandeur lies not in its marvels of alchemy, but in what it upholds—knowledge. In Skyborne City, knowledge is currency, and quite literally at that.

“Common coinage—gold, silver, even mana crystal shards—are meaningless here. The city’s reserves of raw metals are vast beyond imagination. Even gold, a mainstay in alchemical crafting and spellwork, is practically worthless.”

As he spoke, Icarus activated a finely wrought bracelet on his wrist through mental command. A pulse of spatial energy flickered, and a dozen or so crystalline cards materialized in his hand.

“High-tier alchemical components do still retain value, and you’d be wise to keep those for yourselves. You’ll understand soon enough.

“Exchanging knowledge for wealth will be your best bet for the moment. These are universal identity cards. Once connected to the city’s Magiweb, these will serve as personal identification.”

He handed them out. “These cards are designed for entry-level ‘Citizens.’ If you’re confident in your abilities, you can strive for more advanced designations—‘Scholar,’ ‘Mentor,’ ‘Professor’—each of which confers considerable privileges.”

Wang Yu scanned the card with his Chariot.

Embedded within the slim crystal were layers of micro-engraved arrays—an intricate mesh of magical circuits compressed into the size of a calling card.

“It’s practically a magical microchip,” he muttered, “Different materials, sure, but the concept isn’t far off. Turning identification into a magitech artifact… this place really might be the most technologically advanced in the world.”

“Just inject a trace of mana and link your mind to the array,” Icarus explained.

Since Wang Yu himself could not cast magic, Avia assisted him in activating the card. The card’s crystalline surface pulsed with light.

A glowing number—’100’—appeared, alongside the designation of ‘Citizen.’

Wang Yu sensed a thin thread of mana linking his card to something far above them—the city’s Magiweb, no doubt.

“Think this thing spies on us?” he whispered to Avia.

“Tracking is possible, but direct surveillance is… highly unlikely, I think,” she replied after inspecting her own card. “Any direct magical intrusion would leave noticeable traces. The Magiweb’s overseers wouldn’t risk such blatant violations.”

“These numbers,” Icarus continued, “represent your starting credits. This is your functional currency in the city. You’ll use it just as you would a mana crystal card in other regions.

“There are many ways to earn more: assisting with research at an institute, teaching at an academy, reporting breakthroughs to the scholarly councils—or offering your findings directly to the city’s ruling body, the Central Assembly.”

As Icarus concluded his explanation, the group neared the end of the gravity corridor. Towering architecture began to emerge above them. Bogul’s massive metallic head had already breached the upper level.

Gears groaned as the platform beneath them locked into place. The rising gateway sealed shut and became a solid, stable floor.

They now stood on an expansive plaza. Around them, several other gravity wells unloaded materials from below. Alchemical automata were busily hauling crates toward the distant cityscape.

“Each time the Aerial City docks, it welcomes new citizens and replenishes its reserves of alchemical materials,” Icarus explained. “New minds for new ideas, materials for new fuel—it’s all part of the machine.”

As they followed him into the city proper, Wang Yu took in his surroundings with keen interest.

Buildings of every shape and size lined the streets—diverse in style, yet surprisingly orderly. Unlike the chaotic jumble of human cities or the serene spaciousness of elven settlements, this metropolis felt structured and alive.

The layout followed a massive concentric design, all centered around a great tower visible from almost any point in the city. Suspended at its peak floated a blinding orb of light, surrounded by spinning runes and conduits of magitech circuitry.

Avia activated Perfect Fractal and shared her vision with Wang Yu.

Through the lens, he saw the spectacle clearly: threads of pure mana radiated from the orb, fanning out like a spider’s web across the entire city. Floating alchemical machinery serving as nodes helped relay these threads into every corner of the metropolis.

This was the Magiweb—the city’s lifeblood. Every facility, every function, every connection was wired into this arcane lattice.

As they passed through the residential districts, Wang Yu noticed something else: the architecture bore striking resemblances to Earth’s urban designs. Condos, multi-unit buildings, and housing blocks—all signs of regulated, efficient city planning.

More curious and more subtle was the proximity between these dwellings. Powerful spellcasters were housed in close quarters—proof that the city’s internal order was strong enough to negate any fear of conflict.

Crossing into the commercial districts, the group found the region split up into various specialties. An entire street might be devoted solely to alchemical materials, and another to enchantments.

Elves, humans, and dwarves walked the streets with quiet purpose. It was bustling but not noisy, energetic but not chaotic.

The sense of industry was palpable. Even without staying long, Wang Yu could feel it: the entire city thrummed with intellectual and magical labor.

Their destination lay ahead—the Council of the Arcane, an esteemed organization located in the heart of the scholastic district. Known for its historical research and innovations in spellcraft, it maintained a strong alliance with the elves of Liaheim.

Upon entering the scholastic district, Wang Yu was surprised to find it livelier than the outer markets—though not in the way he expected.

He had assumed it would resemble the quiet, cloistered streets where Stevenson Academy once stood. But even as they stepped across the threshold, he was greeted not by solemn study—but by the furious bellowing of an old man.

“You’ve botched the data again, haven’t you?! I’ve been refining this theoretical model for six years! Six years, damn it! I’ve run my numbers over three thousand times—there can’t be an error! At this rate, we’ll be kicked out of the Scholars’ Association before we can defend our model!”

The shouting came from a small café by the roadside. An elderly scholar with sunken eyes and silver hair was brandishing a scroll of arcane figures and snarling at a disheveled young man across the table.

“Don’t blame me for your half-baked equipment! I can’t ignore magical interference or void anomalies just because you say so. Of course errors would happen in such an uncontrolled environment!

“You think anyone else would tolerate your temper? You’re lucky I’m even helping you pursue this lunacy!

“If you keep this up, I’ll withdraw from this project. See if you can find anyone else insane enough to chase your half-buried relic of a theory!”

The young man, clearly infuriated by his older counterpart’s tirade, slammed the table and sprang to his feet, jabbing a finger toward the old scholar’s nose as he roared back in fury.

“Fine—fine! It’s my fault, alright? I’ll apply for another round of funding from the academy and see if I can get you a proper set of instruments!”

Taken aback, the elder visibly deflated. Clearly, as the young man had pointed out, the theoretical model in question meant far too much to him to be abandoned over his pride.

The passersby didn’t even pause at the spectacle. It seemed such heated exchanges were nothing new in this part of the city—no one batted an eye even as whispers turned into shouts.

“A common sight,” Icarus said, glancing back at the group following him. “Sometimes it’s a mismatch between talent and ambition. Sometimes the researchers are capable but lack the funds to verify or realize their ideas.”

He gestured toward the pair. “That’s one such case—a theoretician and an experimentalist, barely holding a partnership together. It’s no surprise they haven’t made much progress.

“But walking away would mean forfeiting any hope of recouping what they’ve already invested. So they push on. Chances are, they won’t actually fall out. The theoretician is too far into his career to pivot, and the experimentalist lacks the means to find a better patron.”

He gave a weary smile. “In truth, this district needs taverns more than the markets do—places to unwind, discuss, negotiate. Research doesn’t flourish through isolation and grim determination alone.

“Skyborne City is a mecca of knowledge, but that doesn’t mean everyone finds their place here. How far you go depends on your talent—and your luck.”

His gaze lingered on the four newcomers. “You lot, at least, have potential. You’ll be under the care of the Council of the Arcane—our faction. With our help, you’ll be spared the fate of those who climb aboard this city with high hopes, only to wind up as underpaid technicians just trying to make ends meet.”

To Wang Yu, none of this so-called harsh reality was particularly surprising. Wherever people gathered, competition was inevitable. Class divides weren’t abolished by advanced technology—this wasn’t some utopia.

Eventually, Icarus led them to a broad and stately building. Those coming and going all offered polite nods and greetings to him. This was clearly the headquarters of the Council of the Arcane.

“Lancer,” Icarus called as he stepped into the hall, addressing the middle-aged man at the front desk, “the new arrivals are here. Assign their accommodations, would you?”

He collected a set of keys from the man and handed them out to the group.

“These are your keys, each labeled with your room number. I won’t walk you there myself.

“Now, are any of you interested in joining the Council of the Arcane? We handle historical archives and support emerging ideas in the field. It’s decent work—maybe not the most lucrative, but ideal for newcomers.”

Though he called it an invitation, it was really a gesture of support. Without any affiliation, newcomers like them would have great difficulty earning a living here.

The group had no objections. The elven companions all agreed to join the Consortium. After a brief discussion among themselves, Avia stepped forward to raise a question on behalf of her, Wang Yu, and Sieg.

“Mr. Icarus,” she asked, “does Skyborne City allow individuals to earn money by assisting others with alchemical processing?”

Icarus paused thoughtfully, then replied with a hint of curiosity in his voice, “The city allows any transaction between willing parties—so yes, that’s permissible. But remuneration for material processing is typically quite low. Is that what you intend to rely on?”

“Yes,” Avia confirmed. “It may be as you say for low-grade materials. But what about high-grade ones?”

At that, Icarus raised his brows. “For advanced materials, the rewards can be substantial… But without proper equipment, it’s not feasible. Are you telling me you’re capable of such work?”

He eyed her, puzzled. The girl didn’t seem like someone equipped to process alchemical materials on that level.

Avia and Sieg both turned to glance at Wang Yu. Then, she gave Icarus a confident nod.

With Wang Yu around… perhaps it was feasible.

They did have a plan, after all. In this city of invention and intellect, they wouldn’t be satisfied by being mere dabblers. They were here to establish a foundation—and the first step to doing so was to acquire seed capital.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep