"We're doing it in a single day!" Lucian exclaimed, torn between disbelief and excitement. After such a long political journey, he was finally going to put his technological engineering skills to the test.

Azrael then spoke, his voice laced with a mix of pride and bitterness:

"Such are the privileges of being an Archmage..." he said, alluding to how he had gathered every necessary component in record time.

"What do you...?" Lucian began, only to let out a resigned sigh.

"Never mind. Just give me a few minutes — I'll grab the files, get changed, and we'll begin."

"Understood, Your Majesty. We'll be waiting."

Lucian left the room and headed for his quarters.

---

As he entered, a faint snore caught his attention.

Zzzzzzzzz...

She's fast asleep.

He merely watched her from a distance. No need to stir up trouble. He quickly changed into something as casual as possible.

He picked out loose black cargo pants and a baggy turquoise shirt adorned with shiny geometric patterns — even in chill mode, Lucian couldn't help but stand out.

He might've been short and occasionally foolish, but the guy had undeniable style. Almost every outfit he wore turned heads, whether he meant to or not.

He grabbed the files from the desk in his room and made his way to the magical lab.

Five minutes flew by.

---

4:20 AM

"Here. Just follow the instructions to the letter, no questions asked. You'll understand once the experiment is over anyway."

Never in my life did I think I'd be building a MacGyver-style electric lamp…

Azrael and his three disciples stared at the documents with wide, trance-like eyes. Unlike the previous diagrams, these were filled with intricate drawings and highly detailed technical explanations.

Even with his brilliance, Azrael only grasped about a third of the logic behind some components. As for the device's purpose — that was entirely beyond him.

And it was beautiful.

To create something truly unprecedented... For a mage, there was no greater blessing.

"Alright. Let's start from the top," Lucian said, his voice resolute.

Lucian paused, lost in thought as he examined the scattered objects on the ground.

The first step was to prepare the copper coil.

Arguably the most critical component — according to Faraday's law, it would capture the magnetic field and convert it into electricity. But crafting it without machinery was no easy task; it required exceptional precision.

You need to wind a copper wire around a non-metallic core — something like wood — about 200 times...

Next came the creation of a rudimentary dynamo. He would use a piece of magnetite stone, fixed onto a wooden wheel connected to a hand crank. The coil had to be positioned very close to that wheel to generate a variable magnetic flux as it turned.

The entire mechanical system had to be securely mounted on a stable surface — a table, for instance.

Finally, a luminous stone would be placed inside a glass container. Its two poles would be linked to the ends of the copper coil.

If Faraday's law holds true… then as soon as the crank is turned, the changing magnetic field will induce a current in the coil — which will power the luminous stone. The result: light.

On a small scale, such an experiment could cost up to 250 velts — not even counting the outrageous price of the luminous stone, whose true value only mages understood.

My goal is to create something affordable even for the poorest… while still generating income. So clearly, that cost is unacceptable. But for now, let's see if it works.

Azrael would handle all the fabrication — the table, the wheel, the crank, even the glass container acting as the bulb. With his near-divine control over the elements, such tasks were practically routine.

Lucian, for his part, would take charge of the entire technical process.

If this works… then my dream will no longer be some distant mirage. It will become real.

A smile crept onto his face.

Smells like money.

---

On the Imperial Guard's training grounds, Captain Harry Lanceler, commander of the Empire's elite forces, was leading the morning drill alongside the Emperor's personal guard.

"Alright... another hundred laps," he ordered with a firm voice.

They were already running around the vast training field, breathless and drenched in sweat.

"But Captain… we just finished a hundred laps... without a single break," protested Josephine, the vice-captain, struggling to keep pace with the relentless rhythm.

Harry came to a sudden halt. The others followed suit, gasping for air.

He turned slightly toward his troops and called out loud enough for all to hear:

"Tell me... what do you think of the Emperor?"

A heavy silence fell over the field, broken only by the soldiers' labored breathing.

No one answered.

"Probably the same thing I think: 'He's insane.'"

Every guard flinched, eyes darting nervously around. Someone might hear. Someone might report it. The shadow of the last noble council still lingered in their minds.

"What are you—" Josephine began, visibly anxious.

But the captain pressed on, unfazed.

"But at least he's not stupid anymore."

His gaze swept over the gathered soldiers. All of them looked confused, unsure. He let the silence stretch, then spoke sharply:

"We're set to be devoured in five years."

No protest. No surprise. Only lowered heads. Because they all knew it was true.

"And if we've come to this… it's mostly because of us — the Imperial Guard."

He paused.

"Do you really want history to repeat itself? For what happened under Lord Adrian to happen again?"

Faces froze. That name reopened old wounds — a memory they had tried to bury but never could.

"I don't know about you. But I refuse. I will protect the Empire. Even if it kills me."

The truth was, deep down, they had already given up. They knew the Empire had become a rotting shell, ruled by a child too young to bear the weight of the crown.

"I'll fight alone if I must. So anyone who doesn't share that conviction… leave the Imperial Guard. Right now."

His eyes were cold, merciless, locking with dozens of others filled with shame, anger, and confusion.

A heavy silence settled over the field.

Then slowly, a faint smile cracked across Harry's hardened face. He resumed his run — heavier now, more powerful. Driven.

Josephine hesitated.

But then her eyes sharpened — clear, fierce, brave.

Without a word, she followed Harry. One by one, the others joined in. Doubt still clouded their expressions, but their legs moved. And that was already a start.

Harry glanced subtly over his shoulder.

"I don't know if it's the right thing to do… but right now, our lives rest in the hands of a kid."

---

9:00 PM

Boom! The entire room buzzed with excitement.

Every eye was fixed on the crude little generator Lucian had built with his own hands.

At his signal, Marc turned the crank, while Azrael reached out to touch the wire.

Azrael and his disciples hadn't missed a single detail. Every move Lucian made was watched with focused intensity. And yet… in the end, nothing.

Nothing happened.

"That's it...? Like, that's really it?" Marc asked, puzzled.

Lucian clenched his teeth. Go fuck yourself, he thought.

But his face remained calm.

"Azrael, put out the candles. Then Marc, just like before—turn the crank."

Azrael folded his arms, clearly disappointed, but obeyed. A simple wind spell was enough to plunge the room into complete darkness.

Every face now wore the same expression: confusion, doubt… disappointment.

Lucian held his breath.

Come on... work...

Marc placed his hand on the crank. One turn. Then another.

And suddenly—

FWOOOOOOM.

The room was flooded with blinding white light. Instant. Pure. As if the sun itself had been trapped inside that handmade bulb.

"!!!"

A collective gasp—but not a single word.

Even Azrael stood frozen.

Lucian, meanwhile, was grinning like a madman. Then, he collapsed onto his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Haha… holy shit… I'm a genius."

He closed his eyes, utterly spent.

Smells like money.

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