Mage Adam-Chapter "356"

This hydrogen bomb was twenty times more powerful than the first atomic bomb—equivalent to a staggering forty billion Fireball Spells.

Even the mages stationed thirty kilometers away were almost blown off their feet. They had to hurriedly construct defensive fields just to stabilize their bodies. The light, heat, and mushroom cloud it produced dwarfed those of the atomic bomb. To say the landscape had “changed” was no longer accurate—it had been utterly annihilated.

The gathered mages were dumbstruck, staring in silence for a long time. If the twenty-billion-Fireball-Spell-equivalent atomic bomb was still within reach of the magic of most Archmagi present, then this forty-billion-Fireball-Spell hydrogen bomb was something even Fifth and Sixth Rank Archmagi couldn’t hope to match.

One mage held tritium and deuterium in his hand, muttering:

“Something this easy to obtain… and it’s this terrifying?!”

His words broke the silence. The eyes of the assembled mages lit up one by one. Even the blind would now see the future prospects of nuclear magic. Even if they didn’t intend to change paths and become Nuclear Explosion Mages, to at least master a single nuclear explosion spell had instantly become the deepest desire in their hearts.

There was no other reason—its power was overwhelming, and frankly, it looked damn impressive.

In the next instant, all the researchers vanished, teleporting back to the institute to organize data, summarize formulas, and convert them into runes. They had completely forgotten about the poor fool in charge of “ignition.”

“Did… did he die?” Adam pointed toward the center of the explosion, speaking in a stunned voice.

His Excellency Prometheus replied:

“He shouldn’t be dead. The Weave hasn’t received a resurrection request… though, his condition doesn’t look good.”

As his words fell, a faint trace of life emerged from the raging elemental turbulence at the explosion’s core. Stable elements were separated out of the chaotic storm, slowly converging into an elemental true body.

Yet compared to the kilometer-tall true body a healthy Archmage could manifest, this form was pitifully small and terribly weak.

“…Help me…”

“Pierce, you idiot!”

Archmage Meyer smacked his forehead in exasperation. To have such a fool under his command was humiliating. With a flicker, he teleported to Pierce’s side, laid a hand on his head, and levered the elemental structures into alignment, helping him reconstitute his body.

Once pulled back from the brink of death, Archmage Pierce collapsed on the ground, grinning foolishly.

“Amazing! I love this feeling! I love it!”

“This explosion… it’s art itself!”

As he spoke, countless complex runes began to appear around him, endlessly arranging and recombining in the air, only to shatter again for lack of coherence. He rolled over and sat up, completely ignoring his grievous injuries, diving headlong into fusion-magic research right there on the ground, unwilling to waste even a moment.

Meyer kicked him twice in irritation, then returned to Adam and Prometheus with a helpless smile.

“Forget it, leave him be for now.” Then he added, “It seems I’ll have to join your research institute as well.”

With multiple True Mages joining in, the fundamental formulas of thermonuclear reactions were quickly organized.

Meyer, being the purest of elemental mages, had high expectations for this project. In his view, nuclear explosion magic was the most destructive elemental magic developed so far, and surprisingly, it wasn’t difficult to master. A single rune set could be used from start to finish, which would inevitably raise the already-fearsome offensive power of elemental mages to an entirely new level.

The conversion began smoothly. The basic formulas were quickly transcribed into runes, and the True Mages even conducted several tests. In their hands, nuclear explosion magic easily demonstrated destructive force equivalent to more than twenty billion Fireball Spells.

But their success relied on their unparalleled control of the elements, the kind of raw mastery ordinary Archmagi and lesser mages simply could not replicate. To spread this magic widely, they needed to incorporate controllable nuclear fusion runes.

That became the great bottleneck. Archmage Julius could barely manage it, but he lacked the depth to distill his experience into a general system.

Following Adam’s line of thought, two True Mages and Julius decided to seek help from the Second Holy Tower’s True Archmage Randolf.

Randolf did not come to the institute in person, instead serving as an external collaborator, exchanging ideas only with the three. Adam thus missed the chance to learn whether Randolf’s ascension had been based on the classical mechanics system or the relativistic system.

The details of their research remained unknown. Without permission, Adam had no opportunity to participate, and so he turned his attention to the particle accelerator and the energy-level changes of microscopic particles. He believed the wisdom of the three True Mages would solve the issue; instead of fretting uselessly, it was better for him to confirm electron transitions, electron clouds, and the true existence of photons.

Two months later, the three reappeared at the institute and delivered the news everyone had been waiting for:

“Nuclear Explosion Magic has been born!”

Archmage Julius walked to the front and displayed a rune set of more than three thousand runes upon the light curtain. After combining them into a complex, beautiful model, he said:

“Four-fifths of this structure was the product of our joint research. I don’t need to explain further what those portions represent. The truly critical part lies in the final fifth.

Thanks to Adam’s ideas, and the combined effort of three True Mages, Inertial Confinement Fusion has successfully been transcribed into rune form! From this day forward, we have a terrifying new category of offensive magic!”

The hall erupted in cheers. Nothing was more thrilling than seeing research results turned into one’s own tangible strength.

Once the atmosphere calmed, the three explained the principles in detail. Afterward, Meyer said:

“This is a very complex spell. Because the rune set is universal, no matter what level of mage uses it, the entire set must be constructed. That means those lacking talent or magical power won’t be able to use it.

Furthermore, the reaction is too violent. Nuclear explosion magic is extremely dangerous—if a mage’s control over magic and elements is insufficient, there’s a high chance they’ll blow themselves up. I trust none of you here will have an issue, but when you consider passing this to others, think carefully. I don’t want to see tomorrow’s reports filled with news of mages dying en masse to their own spells.”

Thus, nuclear explosion magic was designated as high-level magic restricted by clearance. Those present, being its creators, had full rights to use and teach it. Other mages would need sufficient clearance—and pay steep fees to the institute—to learn it.

“Lastly,” Meyer concluded, “in recognition of your years of effort, the Mage Council has decided to grant you a reward. The specifics will be announced in the coming days. For now… I think everyone here deserves a vacation.”