NOVEL NEXT 104 - Actually, Measuring Even Once is Harder Than It Looks
The funny thing about testing scientific theories was that usually, you didn't have a method of nearly-perfect measurement.
On Earth, the acceleration due to gravity at the Earth's surface was determined to be 9.8 meters per second squared. But there was no magical display giving the exact method of determining that acceleration.
If you wanted, for example, to measure the force of gravity at the surface of Earth, you could in theory attach an accelerometer to a falling rock and drop it from a tower. That certainly was one possibility. But it was a high-tech solution, not the best one. Physicists had approximated the force of gravity long before engineers had fully built the tools to measure it precisely.
You could drop a weight from a tower and measure how long it took to reach the bottom, by watching and counting very precisely. Or you could roll a ball down a slope and measure how long it took to reach the bottom, and do some trigonometry to decipher how the downward force had been redirected by the slope. Or if you knew a bit more, you could use a pendulum. Through one or all of these methods, you could come to a consistent measurement of the gravitational constant.
It was possible but quite tedious and required no small bit of ingenuity to derive from nothing.
Of course, all that was on Earth. On Omnio, for all Archmund knew, he could get his Gemstone Tablet to work as an accelerometer from a distance, if he had the opportunity to investigate further. He suspected it wouldn't even be that hard. He even suspected that if he was clever enough it could do so for any object within the Dungeon at the current time.
Because here, his Tablet told him exactly how a Monster's stats grew every time he hit it and every time one ate another.
It was very convenient and frankly was an insult to his meager scientific training. If science and measurement was this easy on Earth, he would have stayed a physicist.
Through his testing, Archmund had also figured out a few more details about how magic worked.
If you managed to disarm a Monster, it did not keep its stat bonuses from its Gear. A Monster's magic didn't flow like a circuit, it was entirely condensed within its physical form. Unlike the living, there was no circuit between a Monster's body, soul, and Gem, because for a Monster body and soul were one and the same, and the Gem sat at the core of both. Monsters needed to stay in physical contact for their magic to flow through their Gem extrusions.
The living were different in that regard, in having the power to project their will over a distance, through Numen-space.
But if you kept hitting a Monster, it would extrude more elaborate gear to resist the force you had applied to it. Humanoid Monsters were more likely to extrude gear, while animalistic Monsters would strengthen their hides, which made sense from a largely intuitive perspective.
At first Archmund had thought this would be obvious. Humans didn't have thick hides or rubber skins, while mythical and monstrous beings could. But then he had caught himself. Humans on Earth didn't have these attributes. This suggested that humans on Omnio didn't either, at least naturally, and relied on Skills like Bodily Barrier. Whether this was innate or cultural vanity remained to be seen.
Though clearly the rules changed for powerful Monsters with wills of their own. Maybe they could fight their instincts just enough to use the power within them to achieve superhuman powers, like throwing fires or warping space. He'd have to figure that one out on his own.
And so basically all the different scenarios Archmund had envisioned could be true in different situations.
Bestial Monsters reinforced themselves, draining their non-essential attributes — across all categories — to fortify their constitution as part of their flesh. They decreased their Strength, Dexterity, Willpower, Charisma, and Intelligence in equal measure for greater Constitution.
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Humanoid Monsters decreased their Strength and Dexterity to extrude Constitution-buffing Gear.
If he wanted stronger a large reservoir of physically-oriented Gems, it was best to summon a beast-like Monster and hit it to max out its Constitution, and then feed it weak fodder Monsters that could be spawned cheaply with the best stats. If he wanted better Gear, it was best to summon a humanoid, give it Gear, and feed it whenever its stats ran low.
And unfortunately, the whole process was horrifically lossy. Half of the Monster's stats outright disappeared, and that was not considering the bits extruded as Gear for going above the thresholds.
Of course, he had plenty of spoils from his experiments. Archmund had a pile of Constitution-buffing scabs, as well as a piece of ornate armor of Gemstone, full plate embossed with whorls that reinforced the structure with magic. It looked like the ripples of bismuth, or a topographical map, or an abstract drawing made without ever lifting the pen.
There was no practical way he could use the scabs himself,, so he'd probably be feeding them back to the Monsters, but he could certainly make use of the armor. Eventually. Once he grew up a bit and it wasn't twice his size.
He leaned back and surveyed the room. It was a tad messy. Splotches of miasma had scattered whenever he'd hit a Monster, and though it wisped away into the darkness, it still disturbed furniture on impact. He'd have to make a Monster clean it up. He didn't mind messes, but he found that life often went by so much smoother when he didn't have to deal with him. In the manor, he had a whole army of servants handling it. And here, he could make the dead handle it.
"Any progress in the search for Gelias?" he said.
"None at all!" Gemmy said.
Archmund sighed. "You think he's alright?"
He was trying to stay positive.
"It seems increasingly likely that he has done this intentionally!"
"What, are you saying he's betrayed me?"
"On the contrary!" Gemmy said. "The odds that Gelias Greenroot is acting against your best interests are incredibly low!"
"…I guess he's not the highest priority, then," Archmund said. Obviously the situation wasn't ideal, but if Gelias wasn't acting against him things were probably fine for now. "Now, this Influence Skill that these cuffs give me… does it work against Monsters?"
Gelias ran for his life.
Bluntly, he'd miscalculated.
He'd thought he'd be able to retrieve his magical arrows without attracting the attention of the undead.
That had been his first mistake. They swarmed to him like flies every time he broke the old constructs. He was spending almost as much energy on fighting Monsters as he got back from the arrows.
Then, he'd thought that he'd be able to improve his aim over time and need less mundane arrows to kill each Monster.
That had been his second mistake. Since he wasn't using his magic, his aim and power weakened as his muscles did.
And his last mistake?
Thinking he'd be able to recover his mundane arrows after each shot.
That was more than possible when it was one Monster at a time.
But combine his three mistakes, each of which could have been overcome individually, and he was, to be blunt, in the middle of a forest fire.
Running and hiding from a shambling horde of Monsters twenty strong. The arrows in his quiver running low. His muscles cramping with overexertion.
This wasn't great.
He considered that maybe he didn't have to do this. He could go back. Tell Archmund he'd made a mistake. Ask to return to the fold. Spend a few hours or a few days or a few weeks farming up exorbitant amounts of wealth before convincing Archmund it was time to finish up and return to the outside world.
Or, he could go to that outside world. Tell the Omnio that Archmund was lost, corrupted by the Dungeon's temptations, and that they should send a subjugation force. Accept his friend was lost.
Neither option appealed to him.
Archmund was a bright and shining star. He would burn brightly and swiftly. Gelias had seen traces of that at the Granavale Tournament, how much effort he'd put in, and had heard tales of that exertion from Rory.
But the fires that burned brightest and hottest often were the first to burn out.
Maybe it was time for Archmund Granavale to go out in his blaze of glory. Maybe this was the peak that he would reach, after displaying immense combat prowess and civic mindedness — losing himself to the temptations of a Dungeon.
And then what? What if he told someone about Archmund's fire?
The Omnio would come in with their Sacred Guard. Put the Dungeon under lockdown, take all they could from it, deny its wealth to the world. They'd sweep in and render it safe to the Empire once more. They'd kill Archmund.
And he'd lose a friend.
He would break free. Gelias was sure of it. There had to be a way to help him along, to push him in that direction. He had to do everything he could.
But the answer wouldn't be here in the Middle Subtier, or even in the Bottom Subtier. Not in those corridors of funneling hierarchy or that hall of entrenched power.
He would have to return to the Upper Subtier. Where the Second Tier presented itself as exotic temptations.