A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 619 Aurora, Polar Regions

With Snow's orders, the observation stations on Kepler faithfully recorded a huge amount of outrageous data.

Through the analysis of the Tree of Truth's links and the tireless iterations by researchers on the ground, the visualization system has taken a giant leap forward. Now, they can not only identify which link is active, but also display different colors based on the activity level. The result is that the output tree-like cluster of links flashes continuously, as if it's dancing.

"What exactly is going on?" Today's duty officer was the deputy station chief Cavendish. He had originally planned to spend a leisurely day stargazing, but unexpectedly, a big one came to his aid. He hurriedly ran from the station chief's duty room to the observation hall.

Snow raised an eyebrow: "Although it's not a secret, I think we should talk about it later, after everything has calmed down."

"Will things calm down?" Cavendish felt that both the core crystal ball displaying the visualizations and the countless glow tubes had gone mad. Every visible moving part was operating at its fastest speed ever, and the paper tape was spraying out like the machine's vomit. He gritted his teeth and said to Snow, "Damn it, tell me now. I'm the deputy stationmaster, on duty today, which means I'll take full responsibility for any problems that arise."

"Alright. Someone is casting a super-level spell."

"Super-tier?" Cavendish pondered the first word, then quickly raised his voice and repeated, "Super-tier magic!"

"I didn't misspoke, and you didn't mishear." Snow took the front-page report. They now had a preliminary understanding of the activation link. For the observation station, this was the first time they had received node signals from rings 10 and 13.

"Who launched this? Is there more information on the ground? Is it friend or foe? A sorcerer or a charlatan? Or a true god?"

"How so?" Snow chuckled mischievously, stroking his chin. He'd forgotten to bring his proper razor to the Astral Plane, and his stubble was a bit prickly. "In terms of age, he's your senior brother; in terms of the number of years he's been with the Magic Tower, he's your junior brother."

"Master Rorschach." Cavendish still felt the suffix was a bit awkward. "Ah, that's not surprising, that's more like it."

"No, that's not right." Snow suddenly stopped smiling, his expression and tone quite similar to Poincaré's: "According to Master Cano's record of witnessing the activation of the super-level necromancy, not so many super-level nine nodes could have been activated."

"Perhaps different types of magic cause different phenomena on the Tree of Truth?"

"No, no, no, the span between the nodes is too large. This is one string, representing one spell, and these are another string, which means," Snow hesitated, clutching the report, when a terrifying realization struck: "Not just one! A super-level spell has been activated! Report to the guild immediately! Report to the Senate!"

Rorschach's actions had already been publicized to the other spellcasters by Humboldt; this was common knowledge. Furthermore, a miracle of equal or possibly even greater magnitude was about to occur, almost simultaneously with Rorschach's spellcasting.

Was this intentional? Now Snow is beginning to ponder Cavendish's initial question: Was the instigator friend or foe? Human or god?

Several mages stood sparsely on the snowfield, surrounding today's "executor." The person in the center of the circle, though the youngest in appearance, was clearly the core of the spellcasters and the central hub of magic in the entire area.

Rorschach was ready. He was now both in reality and at the boundary, acting as a window connecting that mysterious space and the material world.

He deliberately chose a deserted place to cast the spell, declining any onlookers or assistance. It wasn't that Rorschach was arrogant, but objectively, at this moment, no one could help him unless the ancient sage was resurrected in his complete form.

That's what Rorschach thinks.

A magnificent, pure blue light emanated from beneath the skin, outlining magical pathways that, upon closer inspection, resembled biological structures, much like blood vessels and other veins.

From a distance, these veins appear like inscriptions carved by an alchemist, revealing countless pieces of information. As the caster's body gradually becomes ethereal, these veins solidify and connect with the magical strings woven by the distant structure.

Next to the seven weavers that have arrived at their designated positions are tons of transmutation dust, which are compacted and loaded into alchemical tanks. If the energy contained within is released all at once in the form of an explosion, it will be seven "auspicious clouds" that can be seen with the naked eye at the Kepler Observatory.

The machines have started up, and the magic strings they produce, due to polarization and concentration to a certain extent, partially transform into other forms of energy that overflow, causing electrons in air molecules to jump and emitting a beautiful and moving blue light, just like Rorschach's body.

These optical paths construct fractals that can be expanded or reduced. To the workers next to the machine, they are constantly changing, and they discover that the transmutation dust is evaporating rapidly, releasing energy at a rate far exceeding the original design power of the weaver.

"Is it going to explode?" The technicians around the seven machines trembled at the same time. They knew very well that if anything went wrong, they wouldn't need to run or hide.

Fortunately, their worries were unnecessary. Even the machines showed changes similar to those in Rorschach's body. The energy they were driving and restraining gradually diffused into clusters, while the physical components of the mechanism seemed to be refined. Their shapes remained unchanged, but phenomena of incandescence and liquefaction of metal could be observed.

However, they still functioned well; the overclocking did not turn them to ashes, but rather elevated their form. When the connection with Rorschach was fully completed, the thickest magic string shot into the sky, changing from blue to golden purple, spreading out across the horizon like a tree trunk and crown.

Throughout the North, the aurora borealis, ranging from turquoise to blue-purple, can be seen. Northern residents, struggling to survive in the howling winds, look up with bewildered and worried expressions.

They didn't understand what had happened, and just hoped things would return to normal soon.

Rorschach's will seemed to envelop the vast lands of northern Ferroron, covering the long, barren, frozen tundra of the entire empire's northern border. Centered on his physical body and the seven terminals, he could not only feel the howling wind and snow, but also sense how magic flowed and distributed.

Even gods are no different. This thought popped into his head, or rather, it was hard for him not to have this idea.

Because he was going to shape this land according to his own ideas. He said there should be no wind, and the wind would stop; he said there should be no ice or snow, and there would only be flowing water and white clouds; he said there should be light and heat, and there would be no darkness or cold.

Rorschach cleared his mind of distractions and focused on rearranging the reality he had come to control.

Under the aurora, magic begins to thin out, either concentrating and condensing, or transforming into light and heat energy, which is then returned to the earth.

But

The temperature just wouldn't rise! Rorschach felt that every bit of heat he generated was being offset by the cold air from the north. Moreover, another force within the symbolic realm was beginning to interfere with his shaping of reality.

As the other mages admired the aurora, a majestic voice suddenly echoed in their minds, yet tinged with hesitation: "Has the elder who went north sent back any news? What exactly happened in the Arctic?"

He decided to send a force north to investigate, and just as he was about to mobilize them, a voice suddenly rang in his mind, and it was very familiar:

"Do not use your precious resources to test the waters rashly; the situation in the far north is very dangerous."

(End of this chapter)