Chapter 11 - Runic Compiler
CH11 Runic Compiler
***
After Alex left, Zora turned to Merlin. "I told you—I've given up on that matter. I don't want you using my problem as a reason to withhold help from Alex like you said you might. If you do, I'll be furious."
"This daughter of mine... how badly do you see me?" Merlin asked with a dry chuckle.
"A rogue dragon," Zora replied without missing a beat.
Merlin's lips twitched.
He shook his head and sighed. "Humans have all kinds of personalities. Some need to be nurtured and gently guided. Others prefer to figure things out themselves, in their own way.
"Alex is clearly the latter. For people like him, the best way to help is to point out a path and then challenge them with an 'impossible' task. That's how they grow."
"I'm starting to understand that," Zora admitted. "But what if he actually fails your impossible task? You'd better not harm him because of it."
"Don't worry," Merlin replied. "Just a little punishment. For better or worse, he's my student. And it reflects badly on me if any of my disciples turn out to be a waste."
Zora gave a reluctant nod and returned to her seat, resuming the work on her desk.
Merlin, however, continued to stare at her for a while.
"What is it?" she asked, unable to ignore his gaze any longer.
"I just find it strange. You've been acting... different since you met the boy. Did he really trigger your maternal instincts?"
A vein pulsed on Zora's forehead, but she managed to stay calm.
"Father, do you remember what we discussed about making tactless comments?"
"Yeah?" Merlin blinked. Then his eyes widened slightly. "Oh... I did it again?"
Zora nodded slowly.
"Ehem. My apologies," he said sheepishly.
Zora sighed. This was simply the kind of person Merlin was—frustrating, but well-meaning.
Still, she addressed his earlier point.
"His bloodline soothes me," she said quietly.
"Really?" Merlin sounded surprised—pleasantly so.
Zora nodded. "Also, I think it's because his bloodline problem mirrors mine. I feel a kind of kinship with him.
"Putting those together, I can't help but look at him fondly. I think of him as a little brother... not a child."
Unfortunately, it seemed the last part of her words went unheard. Merlin had already drifted into thought. His eyes lit up as he summoned a portal with a wave of his hand.
"Tell Pinchcoin the Wastelanders will be coming by to discuss compensation. Have him handle it personally," he said before vanishing into the portal.
Zora rubbed her temples.
Her words had clearly fallen on deaf ears.
She knew her adoptive father was likely scheming something to help her with her condition again. And while she appreciated it, she also wished he'd stop.
Few things hurt more than being given hope... only to have it snatched away again.
She was tired of the repeated heartbreak that came with the promise of a cure. But Merlin was simply too stubborn to let her give up.
-
Alex returned to his dorm and found that someone from the task hall had delivered his meals for the day.
Ever since Asta had left on an Enclave mission a month ago, Alex had requested the task hall deliver all his meals at once. He had a stasis circle in his storage room that could preserve the food's freshness and warmth for a couple of days, so it wasn't a problem.
Still, he couldn't help thinking about Asta as he accepted the delivery.
Unlike Alex, who came from a wealthy noble house that could afford to support his education, Asta was self-sponsored. Her family sent her a modest allowance, but it was barely enough to cover a fraction of her expenses at the Enclave.
To support herself and continue her studies, she took on multiple jobs from the task hall.
That was why, despite being six years older than Alex, she was still stuck at the mid-Novice stage—same as him.
She simply didn't have access to the same resources.
Alex had tried to help her financially, but to his surprise, the girl who flirted so openly with him turned him down.
Playing around was one thing. But taking his money for nothing? That was a line she wouldn't cross.
Alex quickly realized that while she may be poor, Asta had her pride.
So instead, they struck a deal. He would pay her for rumors and intelligence on the goings-on within the Tower.
Since Alex rarely left his room except for classes or visiting the Tower Master's office—being wholly focused on developing Rune-Tech—the deal benefited both sides.
Still, there was a limit to how much a low-ranked acolyte's information was worth. Asta refused to take more than that, so she still had to take on dangerous missions to make ends meet.
The extra income from Alex had at least allowed her to buy a decent wand, enabling her to accept more challenging (and better-paying) jobs.
In fact, the wand Alex had taken from Marcus Hertarian was meant for her. He had no use for it.
Wands helped mages focus their Spiritual Force and reduce casting times.
But Alex's Spiritual Force was abnormally strong—strong enough for him to instant-cast spells—so a wand was redundant for him.
For Asta, however, it would be a game-changer.
Now, the only issue was figuring out how to get the proud girl to accept the gift.
After all, this was the personal wand of an Earl's son.
And it was anything but ordinary.
-
After a hearty meal, Alex headed to one of the specialized labs within his residence, the designated site for his next phase of Rune-Tech development.
He placed the materials he intended to use onto a long worktable, then stood still, deep in thought.
'The foundation of my Rune-Tech project is a self-learning program. To put it simply, it's like trying to create an A.I. from scratch.
'If I follow that analogy, my previous attempt was like trying to write constantly changing code on paper—a dynamic process forced onto a static medium. The right software on the wrong hardware.'
Alex tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table.
'If that's the case, my first correction should be the medium—the hardware.'
He exhaled and sank deeper into thought.
'I'm trying to introduce computing into this world. The easiest way is to build something analogous to a computer. I don't need to replicate Earth's computers perfectly—I just need a functional equivalent here.
'A computer is a fusion of hardware and software. Runes form the basis of my programming language—the software.
'So for the hardware, I need something capable of receiving dynamic runic input. It must allow post-inscription alteration. The Moro Crystal and Tear of Zan fit that description... for now.'
But he had concerns.
'According to my research, the Moro Crystal will eventually become a bottleneck. It's comparable to a first-gen computer, while the software I envision demands supercomputer-tier performance.
'Even if the Tear of Zan is superior, it's still a naturally occurring material. Its limitations are unavoidable. At best, it's a high-end PC—not even close to the heavy-duty machine I'll need later.'
His tapping quickened.
'If natural materials won't cut it, then I'll need something artificial. But that introduces a new issue: any manmade material more powerful than the Tear of Zan would be ridiculously expensive. My current grant likely wouldn't cover it. Even if it could, I doubt I'd be granted access due to my level.
'So my only options are to build it myself... or find someone who can. Either way, I'll need a solid understanding of this world's manufacturing processes to create a feasible schematic.'
He closed his eyes and accessed the contents of his memory palace, enhanced by the Eidetic Memory ability of his eyes.
'I'll need knowledge in material science and device engineering. Alchemy should cover material science—especially material alchemy. As for engineering, forgesmithing seems to be the closest field.
'But that's a problem. Alchemy is mage-based, so it'll be easy to find in the Enclave. Forgesmithing, though, is a warrior-oriented profession. It might not exist within the Mage Tower.'
He weighed his options.
'I can't find a definite solution right now. I'll consult Zora or Master Merlin later. Either way, that's a problem for the future. The Moro Crystal and Tear of Zan should suffice for the present.'
He moved on.
'Besides, if this were a novel, I'd be the main character. And according to the Law of Cliché, a solution will somehow fall into my lap later.'
He chuckled lightly at the thought.
'Alright, that's the hardware. Now for the software.'
'If I'm right, neither the Moro Crystal nor the Tear of Zan can handle complex programming. If I dump an advanced program into it now, I'll just repeat my earlier mistake. So instead, I'll start with a basic, modular program—something I can build on over time.
'It'll be slower, but far more stable. I'll test and iterate with each improvement. That way, I avoid wasting months again just to watch the whole thing collapse.'
He turned to the crystal Merlin had extracted.
'Based on my research, the stronger the user's spiritual force, the more effectively the Moro Crystal can be utilized, and the fewer support materials are required. Zora indeed introduced me to the most compatible material class for my attributes.
'With this, I can inscribe runes, modify them into circuits or arrays, and activate them to observe their effects. And it has memory storage —runes stored inside remain active-ready unless overwritten or beyond capacity.
'Combined with my eidetic memory, I can track and analyze every change and outcome.'
He nodded to himself.
'In that case, I'm ready.'
He prepared his inscription ink—made from carefully mixed support materials—and set it aside.
Then he sat down to meditate, restoring both mana and spiritual force to their peak.
Once recovered, Alex began.
'The first step is inputting all the runes I know into the crystal. It's dry, repetitive work—but absolutely essential if I want to treat runes as usable code.'
And so began the painstaking process.
He channelled mana into the inscription ink and used his spiritual force to guide it, inscribing runes directly onto the Moro Crystal.
The time needed to inscribed each rune varied with complexity and Alex's familiarity. Some took seconds, others minutes. A few complex ones demanded hours of precision work.
For the foreseeable future, his time was spent devouring new runes, then inscribing them into the crystal.
Like that, time passed—slow to some, fast to others. For Alex, it simply flowed.
Over a month later, when a subordinate of Pinchcoin delivered the package containing the Tear of Zan, Alex's grind had borne fruit.
The device—simple in appearance but intricate in design—stood proudly on his table.
He called it:
Runic Compiler.
***