Chương 107: CHAPTER 105: MICRO-FILAMENT MASTERY

The subterranean laboratory was dead silent except for the rhythmic, synchronized breathing of twenty students. Down in the cold basement amphitheater, the smell of burnt drake acid had been thoroughly cleared away by the stone ventilation channels. In its place lingered the faint, metallic scent of nutrient fluid and preservation salts. On each stone workstation rested a fresh biological testing dish containing a live nerve fiber harvested from a low-tier forest crawler, pulsing with a weak, erratic blue light.

The task was deceptively simple: connect two severed nerve ends using micro-filament mana threads without short-circuiting the biological current. On the right side of the room, the five commoner scholarship students worked with terrifying stillness. Having spent years surviving on scarce mana stones and hand-me-down spell scrolls, they lacked the raw, explosive mana capacity of high-ranking battle mages. But what they lacked in brute output, they made up for in survival-honed manual precision.

Their curved iron forceps hovered less than a millimeter above the glass dishes. A soft azure glow settled at the fingertips of the lead scholarship student, a quiet girl named Elia. Zip. With a whisper-light flick of her wrist, Elia extended two hair-thin threads of pale blue mana. The threads slipped into the severed nerve casing with surgical smoothness.

She looped the filaments through the translucent sheath, tied an unbroken square knot beneath the surface, and retracted her energy without disturbing a single surrounding fiber. The severed nerve sparked once with bright, healthy blue luminescence. The connection held perfectly. Beside her, the other four commoner prodigies tied off their final suture loops almost simultaneously. Click. All five glass dishes lit up in stable, continuous blue light.

[Practical Evaluation: Group B (Scholarship Cohort)] [Success Rate: 100%] [Suture Integrity: 98. 4% average] [Mana Loss: Negligible] Shin stepped down from the stone platform, his dark robes brushing quietly against the basalt steps. He stopped behind Elia's workstation, glanced down at the stable nerve pulse, and gave a slow, single nod of approval. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Clean tension," Shin said calmly.

"No ragged edges on the nerve sheath. Minimal mana burn. Excellent work." Elia's cheeks turned bright red, her hands trembling with relief as she quickly bowed her head.

"Thank you, Professor Shin!" Across the aisle, the fifteen noble heirs sat in stunned, demoralized silence. Their expensive, silver-plated forceps were scattered across their workstations. Beneath their hands lay half a dozen ruined test dishes, their nerve specimens singed black or torn to shreds by clumsy bursts of high-intensity elemental mana. Even basic Tier 1 lightning spells had completely vaporized the delicate nerve pathways. Valerius stared down at his own dish.

His hands were covered in tiny red blisters from mana feedback. His nerve specimen was scorched at both ends, the blue glow entirely extinguished. He looked across the room at Elia and the commoner students, whose quiet, disciplined hands had accomplished what his grand ducal lineage could not. Rudra watched the noble boy's shifting expressions from the center of the pit. Abe yaar, looks like reality finally hit the golden boy right between the eyes. Valerius slowly pushed his chair back. Clatter.

The heavy wooden legs scraped against the basalt floor. The other fourteen noble students held their breath, expecting another arrogant outburst or a furious curse directed at the commoners. Instead, Valerius walked across the central aisle with his head lowered. He stopped in front of Elia's desk, took a deep, shuddering breath, and bent his waist in a stiff, ninety-degree bow.

"Please," Valerius said, his voice quiet but clear throughout the silent hall.

"Show me how you stabilized your hand during the loop. My mana keeps overloading the thread before the knot is tied." The entire room froze. A grand ducal heir of the imperial bloodline had just bowed to a commoner scholarship student. Elia blinked in shock, her quills almost slipping from her grasp.

"Y-Young Lord Valerius... you just need to drop your mana output to a trickle and breathe from your diaphragm before you touch the sheath." Within moments, the thick barrier of aristocratic pride in the room shattered completely. The remaining fourteen noble heirs stood up from their stations, abandoned their silk-cushioned benches, and gathered around the five commoners' workstations with open notebooks and eager, humble questions.

Noble boys in gold-embroidered coats leaned in close, watching commoner girls demonstrate delicate finger movements and mana-threading grips. Rudra leaned back against the central granite table, folding his arms loosely inside his sleeves. Chalo, at least these kids know when to shut up and learn from people who actually know the job. Shin watched the joint practice unfold in steady, focused harmony.

"Pair up," Shin instructed, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the room.

"One noble to one scholarship student. Reset the nerve dishes. Run the continuous suture drill ten times until the muscle memory takes hold."

"Yes, Professor Shin!" the twenty students replied in unison. Valerius returned to his bench, accompanied by Elia. Taking a fresh glass dish, he closed his eyes, centered his breathing, and channeled a single hair-thin thread of crimson mana, matching the exact rhythm Elia demonstrated beside him. His crimson thread hovered steadily above the translucent nerve sheath. Step by step, his fine motor control began to lock into place. His hands stopped shaking.

The thread descended smoothly, looping through the outer layer with newfound delicacy. Just as the crimson thread touched the core of the nerve, a sudden, heavy pressure fell over the room. Thrum. A cold, suppressive wave of high-density hostile mana brushed violently against the external boundary wards of the subterranean laboratory. The basalt walls vibrated with a low, unnatural hum.

Valerius gasped, his concentration instantly snapping as his crimson thread flared out of control, singeing the edge of his specimen. Shin's eyes sharpened into cold, analytical slits as he looked toward the reinforced iron laboratory door.