Chapter 102 — The Magical Energy Engine
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
Cantrips were the basic techniques listed outside the formal spells, the sort of thing even apprentice-level mages could cast. As a rule they were extremely easy to learn; the spell models required were so simple that a child of a few years could grasp them. But their effects were correspondingly limited and their functions highly single-purpose. Many cantrips were not even practical in combat or in work, serving only as supplements to formal spells or as a kind of "preschool education."
Gao Yang knew several rather amusing cantrips. There was "Colorize," the prerequisite cantrip to Polymorph, which could dye a target's hair a random color—but beyond the dye job it had no lethality whatsoever, and the effect lasted only two hours. Or there was "Mental Discipline," a cantrip used purely to temper one's spirit: once cast, it immediately summoned a phantom within the caster's own field of vision, and that phantom would promptly begin reciting the sorrowful adolescent literature the caster had written as a child, droning on until the caster voluntarily ended the spell's effect. Its power to temper the mind was unbelievably effective...
All right, the "sorrowful adolescent literature" bit was Gao Yang's own interpretation. In the understanding of native mages, this phantom mainly prattled on about every failure and foolish mistake in the caster's life. Since the phantom could be seen only by the caster, it was essentially a psychological-suggestion technique—something between a spell and a skill—remarkably effective for tempering the spirit, for self-reflection, and for drawing lessons from experience. But most people had no interest in learning it.
As for formal mages, they were reluctant to call anyone who had mastered only cantrips a "spellcaster" like themselves. Those who performed a few cantrips in the streets to dupe the ignorant common folk, or even conned country knights with a handful of tricks, were all bungling apprentices. And even for apprentices, mastering a few cantrips was nothing to be proud of—yet by the same token, if one could not master even a few cantrips, that was certainly something to be ashamed of...
Rebecca was plainly a stout warrior in the ranks of mage-kind's shameful.
And the repulsion cantrip that had nearly scarred her for life in childhood was one of the rare, comparatively potent cantrips among the lot.
It was one of the prerequisites of force-field magic, a variant of the fellow cantrip "Telekinesis," and also a training technique for later practicing a whole series of spells including Gravity Manipulation, Levitation, and Evoker's Hand. The repulsion cantrip's function was to push away objects directly in front of or around the caster (the specific effect depending on the type of rune bytes added when constructing the spell model), while the weight of the objects pushed depended on the caster's magical strength. It was one of the few cantrips that could produce some effect in combat—pushing back an enemy, or throwing them off balance.
Gao Yang knew this cantrip, but it had completely slipped his mind.
His head was full of expanding gas doing work, or high-temperature, high-pressure airflow. Even if the model of an electric motor occasionally flickered through his mind, he had never managed to connect it to this world's most basic "repulsion cantrip."
Watching Rebecca enthusiastically describe her idea, Gao Yang, with a touch of self-mockery, began to reflect on himself.
Don't overestimate the "transmigrator's" broad thinking and otherworldly experience. Such ideas and experience might work wonders, but often they also became the transmigrator's own shackles and stumbling blocks—just as with him this time: the original Gao Yang Cecil's memories had contained the repulsion cantrip, so why had he failed to think of it?
Because Gao Song's head was full of classic engine models from Earth...