Within every living cell, energy constantly flows, a subtle hum of life itself. Yet, Richard knew the Human-Skin Manuscript deliberately mentioned a different type of energy—one that ordinary biological currents could not substitute. The question gnawed at him: what kind of energy could it be?
Magical energy?
Perhaps it required consuming the crimson fluid extracted from the Fire Bears.
But even if swallowed, the liquid would merely travel down the esophagus, through the stomach, and along the digestive tract before exiting the body. It would never circulate fully.
Then… intravenous injection? Like a modern infusion on Earth?
Even so, liquid injected into veins only followed the blood's circulation. While it might reach more places than the digestive system, vast portions of the body remained untouched. That, too, did not qualify as "flowing throughout the body."
Then what, exactly…?
Richard sat at his laboratory desk, frowning, consumed by thought. Lucy, his maid, stood quietly to the side, barely breathing, careful not to disturb his concentration. Hours passed, yet no solution emerged.
Finally, he turned to Lucy, noticing her subtle restlessness. He handed her a scroll filled with scribbles. "Place this on the shelf where I keep the Manuscript, and bring me two new blank scrolls."
"Yes, Master," Lucy responded, her eyes briefly lighting up at having a task. She reached for the scroll.
The moment her fingers brushed Richard's, both felt a sudden jolt—a sharp, tingling shock that shot through them.
"Ah!" Lucy exclaimed in surprise.
Richard's mind snapped. Static electricity!
A flash of clarity struck him like lightning. He sprang to his feet.
Lucy stammered, "M-Master… what is it?"
"Nothing," Richard waved, though his eyes glimmered with excitement.
Yes. Electricity. The body is a conductor. If an energy must flow through the entire body, it can only be electrical energy. Of course—it's electricity!
A slow breath escaped him as the realization sank in. The solution to the second challenge, the construction of a mana reservoir, now had a starting point. All that remained was to determine how to generate sufficient electric current.
Batteries? Generators?
A cascade of ideas flickered through his mind, but Richard settled on the simplest first: he turned to Lucy. "Prepare some things for me: brine, iron rods…"
Not long after, the requested materials were ready.
Richard began with a straightforward experiment: recreating the ancestor of the dry cell—the voltaic pile.
The voltaic pile, invented by Italian professor Alessandro Volta in 1800, was simple yet ingenious. Zinc and copper plates, separated by soaked paper, produced a current when stacked. In brine, the metals underwent a redox reaction, generating electricity.
High school chemistry on Earth could barely explain it to most students, but to Richard, it was child's play. He quickly assembled a near-perfect voltaic pile. Yet when tested, the results were disappointing: the current was far too weak.
He adjusted, connecting multiple cups in series and parallel to amplify the output. Still, the flow was insufficient. To achieve his goal, he would need hundreds of cells.
Frustrated, he abandoned the voltaic pile and turned to another ancient marvel: the Baghdad Battery.
The Baghdad Battery was a truly enigmatic creation. Unearthed from the Tigris-Euphrates basin and dated to the third century BCE, it predates Volta's invention by more than two millennia. Scientists worldwide had marveled at its existence, unable to explain its origins.
Richard was unconcerned with history. He only cared about function.
Constructing it was more complicated than the voltaic pile. Its main body consisted of a clay jar filled with bitumen. A copper tube pierced the bitumen, lined internally with another layer of bitumen and enclosing an iron rod. The rod protruded slightly above the copper tube and was wrapped in lead to ensure complete insulation between electrodes. When filled with an acidic solution, it generated a small but continuous current.
After considerable effort, Richard assembled a functional Baghdad Battery. He tested it—and was once again disappointed. The current was stronger than the voltaic pile, but only by a few multiples. It still fell far short of what he needed: a current capable of flowing throughout the entire body.
"Batteries alone won't suffice," he muttered. "The current is too weak. I need a more robust approach—perhaps a generator."
"Generator?" Lucy echoed, eyes wide. Richard retrieved a fresh scroll, quill in hand, and began sketching diagrams.
There were many types of generators: hydroelectric, wind, manual. After careful consideration, he settled on a wind-powered design—reliable and within reach.
A simple wind generator consisted of two main parts: the windmill and the generator itself. Richard sketched quickly, making adjustments as inspiration struck. Soon, the blueprint was complete.
"The design is done," he said. "Now, alert Makar. He will need to assist with construction."
Richard preferred not to build it himself; the labor was best left to skilled craftsmen. Lucy nodded obediently and rushed to notify the blacksmiths.
Soon after, Richard descended the side keep. At the entrance, Turku awaited him.
"Let's go," Richard said, leading the way toward a row of outbuildings behind the main keep.
As they approached, the stench hit first: pungent horse manure, mixed with damp, fermenting feed. Turku frowned, but Richard's face remained impassive. He pressed forward toward the stable.
At one end of the stable, beneath a dilapidated canopy, lay a figure sprawled on a filthy blanket, fast asleep.
Richard's mind raced. Electricity coursing through the body could mimic the flow described in the Human-Skin Manuscript. If he could channel it properly, perhaps he could finally construct the elusive mana reservoir.
The first step was clear: he needed a consistent, controllable electric current.
And now, with Makar's help and the wind generator, that current would soon be at his command.
Richard's eyes gleamed. The second challenge was within reach, but it would demand precision, patience, and ingenuity unlike any he had employed before.