B2 - Ch4 - The Lightbulb [Both] (Patreon)

"Well, it works. Kind of? Maybe? I'll be honest, I have no clue what this thing does," Carter laughed. "Unless you tell me it's great at burnin’ people. Then I'd say it's damn successful."

“That’s what we want,” I smiled. “Right now, you have a magnet spinning around a coil, and that’s making it vibrate very quickly, and that motion makes it hot. Once this touches a piece of tungsten wire, it’ll get very hot and radiate light.”

How hot? So hot that it makes an oven seem like a sauna and a blowtorch seem like a hastily eaten Hot Pocket. Seriously—it reaches temperatures between 4,999 and 6,000 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s no joke.

“So this just burns shit?” Carter frowned. “That’s it?”

“No, it makes things vibrate,” I chuckled. “That’s it.”

“That makes even less sense,” he sighed.

“It means if you assemble the parts, it’ll perform actions you don’t understand,” I grinned.

“Now you’re just making me sound dumb, Boss,” Carter complained.

“Trust me, Carter. Where I come from, everyone’s ignorant. Intelligent people only exist in fantasy stories.” That was the truth; I didn’t comprehend how a lightbulb truly worked, nor did I understand steel production until I came here. Carter was merely translating ideas from a book in my mind; that’s the essence of it. In a way, we were both working from blueprints.”

“Anyway, we don’t have time for this, so let’s get started,” I instructed, pulling out a black wire. “This is copper wire coated in rubber from the Elm Sap Tree. Once it's covered, it won't conduct electricity to harm anyone.”

“And it also stops the heat?” he asked.

“Yep. Because it doesn’t vibrate,” I replied. “That’s it.”

“I see. So we have a spinnin’ magnet and some wire to connect to it. What comes next?” Carter asked, rubbing his head. He was clearly dreading the process.

“Next, we need tungsten wire,” I replied. “Let’s move on to that.”

Carter nodded. “That’ll be simple.”

Tungsten is just another metal. However, it has an incredibly high melting point, allowing the wire to endure despite the intense heat.

Imagine a candle wick. If you use a dry string as a wick, it will only burn for 30 seconds before extinguishing. Instead, you create a wick surrounded by materials that make it harder to melt and vanish. That’s what we’re using tungsten for.

The initial step of the process is creating that wire. We began by heating a tungsten rod, which we then shaped using a lathe to create a solid pipe-like cylinder without any hollow space. Afterward, while it was still soft and cooling, we took it to a wire drawing machine.

“We've designed a wire-making machine based on your specifications. It's taken some time, but we're finally gettin’ things workin’,” Carter explained, leading me to the machine. He placed the cylinder on the top of the machine and started the engine. “We have five dies now, and while they're not perfect, they improve with each iteration.”

“Let’s see it,” I requested.

He nodded and demonstrated the process to me.

A wire drawing machine operates like a conveyor belt passing through rotating wheels that decrease in size, causing the metal to compress as it's pushed through.

Think of an icing bag. You have a thick bag of icing, and it comes with different-sized tips. When you squeeze the bag, it forces the icing out in a narrow stream. It's a similar principle, but with multiple tips that gradually push the metal to reduce its size.

After several rounds of this process, a wire emerges.

“Alright, let’s wait for it to cool down, and then we'll continue,” he said.

***

Thea brought us lunch, and we enjoyed it while the wire cooled. Once it was ready, we immediately got back to work.

“Okay. We have a generator that spins, and the wires connected to it also spin. To keep the wire in place, we need to anchor it at one end so that one half can rotate while the other half remains stationary,” I explained. “For that purpose, we need a slip ring.”

I walked him through the theory of a slip ring since I didn't have a detailed blueprint for everything. This led us to spend six hours crafting a slip ring, getting the rotational movement to work, insulating it with rubber, and ensuring it could withstand the rotational force we needed.

“Now, let’s work on a plug,” I said. “A plug has two prongs that go into an electrical outlet. Inside the plug housing, there are two wires that attach to both prongs. One wire carries electricity, known as the live wire. The other wire completes the circuit.”

“In essence, there are two insulated wires that twist together, and the plug facilitates that connection.” I explained this to Carter, and together we created the plug.

The main challenge was not having plastic available and having to create rubber molds to work with steel molds. It was a challenge, but we managed to overcome it.

“Well done. That’s it,” I smiled. “Now, let’s generate light.”

After bending a piece of thin tungsten wire and starting the electricity generator, I touched the wire to the tungsten—

“It’s glowing!” Thea exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “You've brought the sun into the darkness!”

“Damn right, I have,” I grinned. “I’ve also secured myself a Gordian Knot.

The Gordian Knot was a complex knot created by the gods. It was said that whoever unraveled the knot would rule over Persia.

Alexander the Great encountered the knot, realized it was impossible to untie and used his sword to slice through it. He then proclaimed that when facing an unsolvable challenge, the solution is to solve it with force.

Well, the actual parable is about thinking outside the box and acting with bold and decisive action, but history tells a different story.

In doing so, he used superstition and religion to his advantage, legitimizing his use of power and his rule over Persia.

That's where I drew inspiration from.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t just seen it,” Carter said. “So what’s left?”

“We just need to create glass bulbs that can safely contain these wires and connect to the circuit,” I replied. “You're going to make the bulb's base with metal and threading, and Kaley will melt a glass bulb around it. That should meet our requirements for now. We can refine it later.”

While he was skeptical, that's genuinely it. We'll coat the light bulbs with kaolin, a type of clay, to achieve the classic white color. And to extend the bulbs' lifespan, we'll evacuate the air and replace it with argon gas before sealing them. But those steps aren't necessary.

My current goal is simply to bring light into the darkness.

“Anyway, send the bases with insulated wire and the bent tungsten piece to Kaley,” I instructed. “She just needs to coat them with powdered glass and melt it around them. That's all.”

No need to provide her with an explanation of what's happening.

The truth is, while electricity is intricate, incandescent light bulbs are not. Otherwise, I would have made them beforehand. For now, this is what needs to be done.

I turned to Thea with a slight smirk. “Would you like to destroy our enemies?”

Thea smiled brightly and clapped her hands. “I’d love to!”

“I gotta ask, Little Lady,” Carter frowned. “Is there anything you'd say 'no' to Boss Man for?”

Thea's expression turned serious, and her eyes sharpened. “Absolutely not. Those who doubt Ryker's brilliance despite witnessing it repeatedly are fools and deserve to die.”

Carter's eyes widened in horror, and he raised his hands defensively. “Hey, now. I'm not startin’ anything. Just curious.”

“Good,” she huffed, puffing out her cheeks and crossing her arms. “Ryker’s magnanimous enough to save everyone. Yet some people are stupid and suicidal. It’s obnoxious.”

I gave Carter an apologetic smile, then took Thea's hand and led her toward the door. “Let me know when the lightbulb assemblies are ready.”

Carter managed a forced smile, his hands slightly trembling. “You got it, Boss.”

***

In a luxurious office within a noble's residence in the city, a man with black hair and chiseled cheekbones sat at a large table with other nobles. His green eyes glinted in the candle-lit room as he observed the nobles, analyzing their expressions, searching for any signs of deception.

“Why is it that many of you have already aligned with the Everwood Empire?” Priest Cole asked.

The room fell into silence, nobles exchanging glances, waiting for someone else to speak.

“I'll repeat,” Priest Cole stated, narrowing his eyes. “Why are so many of you collaborating with the Everwood Empire? It's only been a week. Do you hold so little regard for our faith, our religion?”

The nobles turned their attention to a nervous-looking man with curly brown hair and sweat on his brow.

“Lord Ween?” Priest Cole pressed.

Lord Ween swallowed hard. “H-Head Priest. My ironworks guild… I'll be bankrupt within a month if I don't align with him, and King Everwood still has eleven weeks before he's embarrassed by his false prophecy.”

Half of the nobles nervously agreed, sweating. The others clenched their teeth in frustration; they despised the situation but weren't ready to give in. They were thirsty for vengeance.

“Are you a fool?” Priest Cole scoffed. “King Everwood undoubtedly possesses technology to create light in the darkness. He possesses technology for everything. This prophecy isn't meant to make a fool of him; it's designed to solidify his authority! If we wait for him, all will be lost!”

Lord Ween trembled and swallowed again. “R-Right… Then what should we do?”

“We have only three months until he succeeds,” another noble pointed out. “That leaves us with merely ten weeks to take action.”

A blonde noblewoman pounded her fists on the table. “Since nobody will voice the obvious, I will. Even if we give King Everwood two months, we'll all be ruined.”

The atmosphere grew heavy, leaving everyone either clenching their teeth or grumbling.

Priest Cole raised his hand. “We're all on the same page, Duchess Phontus. I summoned you here to discuss how we can thwart him within this week. We can't afford to give him any time.”

“We've discussed this before,” Duchess Phontus sighed. “We can't accuse him of assault when he's known to associate with that detestable beastkin. Accusing him of betrayal is also impossible; no one trusts him to begin with. That leaves us with religion, but that demon cut off our path to action!”

The table emitted a collective groan.

Priest Cole's gaze shifted to the left. “So religion is our only option… If that's the case, I know what we can do.”

***

The next day, Rema burst into my chambers with a frantic expression. “King Everwood! Priest Cole has been delivering sermons that accuse you of usurping the position of Head Priest through Priest Flanka, thus charging you with heresy.”

I looked up from the Book of the Sun, the holy scripture of the Church of Solara. “I'm aware.”

“So, what's your plan?” Rema frowned. She was learning not to question every word I said, which was fortunate.

“I've ordered posters challenging Priest Cole to a scripture reading contest,” I replied.

“YOU'RE WHAT?!” Rema exclaimed before quickly lowering her voice and turning red. “You're going to use your memory, right?”

“Of course,” I answered, looking down at the Book of the Sun.

“What if they alter the text?” she asked.

“I'll memorize the book they provide just before I start,” I replied.

Her eyes widened. “You can memorize that quickly?”

“I can,” I affirmed. “I'm only reading it to ensure it doesn't sound rehearsed.”

Rema's lips parted, and she stared at me.

“Are you going to confess your love again?” I asked, somewhat annoyed. “Or are you genuinely amazed that I'm doing my job?”

Rema's expression shifted from indignation to embarrassment, then back to irritation. “That's not appropriate language to use with a princess.”

“Is there something else?” I asked, blank-faced.

“Shouldn’t we strategize a follow-up?” she sighed. “The recital is just one part of their strategy.”

“We'll be fine,” I reassured. “I have a plan. And it starts with having dinner with Priest Cole tonight.”

“Tonight?” Rema laughed. “And you didn't think to inform me?”

“It has to be tonight,” I clarified. “It's essential. Now, go get ready if you want to join us. Otherwise, feel free to take the night off.”

Rema blinked twice, her mouth opening and closing. “What do you intend to discuss?”

“I simply want to get to know him better,” I grinned.

***

That night, I held a reception for Priest Cole.  His face bore the expression of a humorless man, actively snubbing me as if to say, “Please! Martyr me!”

Unfortunately for him, this isn’t a democracy, and if he tried to pull a Gandhi, he’d just disappear in the night.

Non-violent protest only flourishes under democratic rule.

You’ve never heard of a Ghandi from the Soviet Union.

That’s not a coincidence.

However, there’s plenty about “Guns, guns, and more guns!” as Joseph Stalin put it.

Ahem.

“Welcome to my home, Priest Cole,” I greeted, bowing as he entered.

“Thank you for extending the invitation, King Everwood,” he responded, his demeanor serious and unenthusiastic.

“Right this way,” I smiled, undeterred. “Let's have a conversation before the reception.”

I led him to a secluded area in the banquet hall, where we sat in silence for ten minutes, each waiting for the other to speak.

“Did you not invite me here for a reason?” Priest Cole finally asked, looking me directly in the eyes.

“I thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know the person opposing me,” I said. “I believe I've already learned a fair amount.”

“What could you possibly deduce from silence?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Sometimes, silence speaks volumes,” I smiled. “For instance, your demeanor suggests that you're here due to a royal decree, but you have no desire to discuss anything.”

Priest Cole's eyes widened momentarily before he regained his composure. “That's quite an assumption. Is there a reason you're trying to discredit me?”

“Of course not,” I replied. “In a little over a month, I'll prove that I'm the chosen one of Solara, and you'll be among my faithful followers, won't you?”

He offered a thin smile. “Don't we still have the trial to consider?”

“Naturally, as a direct disciple of the gods, I'll clear my name,” I said with a confident smile.

“Gods,” Priest Cole scoffed. “There is but one God, and that is Solara.”

"According to leaders on multiple continents, there is at least one other goddess, as people have witnessed her," I replied, lacing my fingers and resting my elbows on the table. "There’s no need for faith."

Priest Cole gritted his teeth. "How do we know it wasn’t an illusion?"

"I don’t care if you believe in Aphrodite," I responded, my eyes sharpening. "The only thing that matters is that the world's leaders know it’s true. I'd say it’s lucky that Solara, or 'Helios' in my language, is a real deity, and I’ve confirmed their existence."

He smiled thinly. "Is that so?"

"It is," I confirmed. "Now, tell me, if you lose this battle, will you believe in me?"

Priest Cole froze and then smiled. "Of course, My King," he replied. "I only seek truth through the wisdom and grace of Solara."

"Wonderful," I replied. "Then please, eat up and enjoy a feast in your honor."

After clapping, the doors opened, and cooks arrived along with dozens of guests.

Thea curtsied to him, followed by dozens of nobles of high standing. Many of them were people that I had confirmed were in his ranks.

I inwardly grinned when they made eye contact and smiled slightly.

A great feast commenced where we introduced dozens of different seafood dishes. Among all the dishes, takoyaki, the Japanese octopus dish served to kings, was a major hit.

I personally handed the breaded octopus balls out to everyone upon request, in the order they asked for the specialty dish.

Priest Cole watched me like a hawk. However, no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t figure things out. While I was personally handing out all the food, my hands never moved or shifted.

That led to one conclusion: there’s no poison in this food.

That was natural, wasn’t it?

After all, I wouldn’t poison everyone, and he could see no poison for breaded balls.

"Can I have one?" A renowned noble asked.

"Certainly," I replied, grabbing one.

The moment I finished my declaration, I handed it to the man.

Priest Cole declined.

However, as the night went on and the nobles ranted and raved about the takoyaki and the stunning reviews given by world leaders all across Novena, he eyed the two takoyaki balls on my plate.

"Would you like one, Priest Cole?" I asked. "You can choose the one you want. I suggest the right one. It's my favorite direction."

"I can choose?" Priest Cole asked.

"You can," I replied. "I’ll eat the one you don’t want."

"I’m not certain if I want one," he said. "The food here has been filling."

"If you don’t eat it, it’s fine," I smiled.

He stared at it with a complex gaze as the nobles encouraged it, ranting and raving about it.

"Since you like the right, I’ll take the left," Priest Cole said, breaking down. "Though, I emphasize that I still might not have it."

"That’s fine," I shrugged, handing him the one on the left and taking a bite of the one on the right.

Priest Cole frowned and gulped before taking a bite out of his. His eyes lit up when he tasted it. "I’ve never tasted anything like this!" he declared.

"Isn't it exquisite?!"

"I couldn't believe it!"

"You have great taste!"

The nobles ranted and raved, encouraging him to finish it.

Once he was done, he was left speechless.

"Did you like it?" Thea asked, resting her chin on the back of her hands and tilting her head. "I made it myself."

His eyes widened, hearing that someone famous for being unstable made the food. However, when the compliments from others came through, he couldn’t help but admit defeat.

"It was delicious," Priest Cole said.

"Wonderful!" Thea clapped. "I’m glad you liked it."

Despite the boisterous atmosphere, Priest Cole swallowed nervously. It was clear he felt something was off, but he couldn’t explain what.

Ten minutes passed. Then a half hour. Finally, two hours passed, and he felt fine, alongside all the other nobles.

Before long, it was time to leave, and he left without controversy, leaving him confused and Rema staring at me and Thea with a lethal glare.

"What do you mean that Thea made the balls you personally handed out to everyone?!" Rema asked, pointing at Thea. "Were you intimidating them?!"

"I was increasing trust in Thea, obviously," I shrugged. "Do you think that you’re the only person with a bias against Thea?"

Rema frowned, looking at Thea, who wore an evil smirk.

Rema turned to me with a jolting glare that declared, "SEE! THAT FACE! DON’T LIE TO ME; SHE POISONED HIM, DIDN'T SHE?!" However, she bit her tongue.

"Don’t worry, Rema," I patted her shoulder. "Priest Cole isn’t getting sick today, or tomorrow, or the next day."

Her eyes widened, and she turned to us as we were leaving. "What about the day after next?!"

I smirked and turned to her. "Unless a divine coincidence happens, Priest Cole won’t get sick tomorrow, the day after, or the day after that. So stop worrying so much."

Rema gave me a forced smile as I turned back and left.

***

As promised, Priest Cole didn’t get sick the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. None of the other guests did either, regardless of the amount of soul mana they had ingested in their lifetimes.

Before long, everything went back to normal, and eight days passed until it was time for the public recital of scripture.

On the day of the event, I accepted the book that the head judge was using and looked through it page by page for five minutes. Once I was done, I turned to the crowd of three thousand commoners and nobles in the Golden Chapel and announced, "I’m ready to start the recital."

"Then let it begin! First question, King Everwood, please recite the passage that declares Solara the king of the Solstice."

I smiled and answered with confidence, “Scripture 47, passage three. In the vast expanse of the cosmos, where stars glittered like diamonds, one star that stood out among the rest—the Sun. It wasn’t just its blazing brilliance or its life-giving warmth that made it special; it was because it was ruled by the mighty Solara, the King of the Sun.”

The reviewers’ eyes widened in astonishment, and the question bearer turned to me. “That answer was verbatim. Well done.”

Astonished crowd members clapped in amazement.

"Next question, Priest Cole," the announcer addressed. "Please recite the first four edits of being a priest of Solara."

The crowd turned to Priest Cole but found him pale in the face and struggling to speak.

"What was that?" the announcer asked, hearing him mumbling. "I can’t hear you."

Priest Cole’s pale face cringed, and he spoke lightly. "I’m having trouble… speaking…."

His movements were also sluggish, and he looked like he was in pain as he spoke.

"If you can’t answer, I can’t grade your response," the announcer said.

Priest Cole tried again, but he was met with pure silence.

"And in the radiant dawn of existence, Solara spoke unto the chosen, revealing the divine path to ascend as a Solarian priest. Those who heed these words and find resonance in their hearts shall be the torchbearers of her luminous truth."

Everyone turned to me as I began.

"The first edict of Solara: 'Let thine heart be as pure as the sun's core, for only in the crucible of purity shall the spirit burn with unwavering brilliance."

I went through the first three until I got to the fourth and paused, looking at Priest Cole with a chilling look in my eye.

"The fourth edict: A true servant shall speak the words of Solara, for they are the bridge between the mortal and the eternal. Without utterance of these sacred verses, one is but a vessel empty of my spirit."

The crowd gasped, and then I turned to them.

“The fifth edict: 'Beware the impostors who don the robes of the Solarian but are void of its essence. For they, though they might mimic the rituals and posture as priests, shall find their tongues tied when they attempt to speak the words of Solara. For I, Solara, shine light on truth and cast shadows on deceit. Those genuine in their devotion shall be fortified by my power, while pretenders shall stand voiceless and exposed before the congregation of believers."

Priest Cole tried to speak, but he was in pain just trying to speak.

“Is everything alright, Priest Cole?” I asked, narrowing my eyes before the crowd. When he stumbled, I turned to the judges. “Have I recited this passage incorrectly?”

The head judge swallowed hard and read his book.

‘That’s right, I spoke your altered words for your expositional passage,’ I internally grinned. ‘Now what?’

I enjoyed watching the blood drain from the man’s face, understanding that his entire life was over. He looked at me and could see as much.

It was true. I was going to decimate this man trying to rig this public event and destroy everything he held dear, saving only his children.

I didn’t persecute children based upon their parents.

Even if I’d have to murder them later—that wasn’t okay.

But trust me, this man would pay.

“Priest Roma?” I asked, seeing him stumbling.

“Y-Yes, that’s true,” Priest Roma said, looking at the Book of Solara. “That’s the exact passage. However, it seems that Priest Cole is feeling ill.”

“I’ve never seen a summer fever that caused someone to have difficulty talking, have you?” I asked.

That crowd was astonished. Whispers spread through the area like wildfire as they judged the man, who was suffering from intense headaches and the inability to speak.

I could see the look of dread in the man’s eyes—and his inability to focus on me.

“Priest Cole was perfect yesterday for the check-in,” I noted. “There wasn’t a single sign of sickness, as noted by everyone else. Since this is a fair recital, shall we continue?”

***

The meeting with Priest Cole went on for an excruciating hour as I presented their doctored lines one by one. The one time someone asked me to recite a common passage that was altered, I asked it correctly and asked them to reread it, as the greater populace knew it.

I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt with the trap.

As for Priest Cole, he couldn’t speak. When he did, he mumbled and winced, pale and shaky.

At the end of it, I left with the following words: “I was brought here to determine if I could meet the fourth edict, requiring a servant to speak the words of Solara to bridge the mortal and eternal. However, you should’ve asked about the fifth edict, declaring that Solara ties the tongues of imposters.”

With those words, I left, leaving the crowd stunned in disbelief.

After meeting with key figures, I returned to the Golden Chapel and made it back to my quarters, where a fiery redhead was waiting for Thea and me, tapping her foot.

“How?”

I looked her in the eyes. “What do you mean, how?”

Rema narrowed her eyes. “How did you prevent Priest Cole from speaking? That wasn’t magic, and we all saw him healthy yesterday.”

"Well, I definitely didn’t poison him yesterday or this morning," I said. "Only a fool would fall for such behavior before such a crucial moment."

"Something’s bothered me. Why did you say that he wouldn’t get sick tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, instead of saying that he wouldn’t get sick?" Rema asked.

"Well, I suppose that would be because Solara ties the tongues of impostors," I answered, "and Priest Cole changed the scriptures in an attempt to prove me wrong. So it’s only natural, yes?"

"Only if gods got involved in mortal affairs," she replied.

Thea growled, but I stopped her and gave Princess Redfield a smile. "Everyone ate the same food at the reception," I noted. "Unless you saw something else?"

Rema frowned. "I didn’t."

"Then there’s no problem, yes?" I asked, walking past her and into my and Thea’s chambers.

The fiery stopped me. "He’s not going to die, is he?"

I gave her a mocking smile. "People with concentrated soul mana don’t die from sickness."

Rema bit her lip. "That.... Good night, King... Everwood."

I smirked as she disappeared, and I entered my chamber, activating a chain of Circle of Privacy circles as customary to prevent prying eyes.

After taking a hot shower using nothing but the plumbing and water heating system we had developed, I came out and found Thea sitting on my bed.

“So what type of meat did you ask me to put into those takoyaki balls?” she asked. “It was strange-looking.”

"That’s because it was poison," I chuckled, sitting behind her and beginning our ear-kneading ritual. She purred in delight, unconcerned by my confession. On the contrary, she developed a grin.

"What kind of poison?" Thea purred.

"Clostridium tetani," I replied. "It’s just bacteria like you use for fermentation, but it causes a neurological disorder known as lockjaw. It exists in the soil. I just grew it on meat for a few days before dinner."

Using Petri dishes made by Kaley and agar made from seaweed that I got from Seraphin, I isolated tetanus with a microscope that I made with the omnipotent tool.

Then I grew it on Robertson’s Cooked Meat Medium, known in the scientific community by the acronym CMM. It’s usually made of sterilized beef, which I cleaned with Molecular Separation, salt, and agar. It’s perfect for growing fastidious anaerobic bacteria like tetanus.

As for the growing, I incubated it for three days in an incubation chamber I made with the tool and fueled with my second. I ground down the resulting meat and added it to heavily seasoned food.

Thea tilted her head. “Bacteria? Then how did you stop the rest of us from getting sick?”

“There’s a molecule in bacteria called peptidoglycan that doesn’t exist in cooked food,” I replied. “I removed that, and the bacteria died for everyone else. Besides, it won’t kill him anyway. With his soul mana, he should be good as new in a month at the latest.”

Thea squealed and turned around, wrapping her arms around me. “You’re so smart!”

“And you concern me with your praise,” I chuckled, holding her tight. “But don’t stop praising me. We’re just starting here.”

—

[A/N: Fun fact. Electricity is a nightmare subject that earns decent money due to it's complicated and non-story-friendly nature. XD  

Anywho, I'm releasing the bonus chapter this weekend, so keep posted.]