The Extra's Rise-Chapter 158: Tower of Magic Conference (4)

I stepped forward, the weight of the moment settling over me like a cloak. The judges, who had been ruthless in their critiques thus far, watched with a mix of expectation and skepticism. The presentation console flickered to life as I placed my hand on it, revealing the title of my research:

"Optimizing the Tri-Binding Process: A New Method for Lich Creation."

Silence. Then a few unimpressed expressions.

I expected that.

"The method of Lich creation has remained largely unchanged for centuries," I began, voice steady. "It has been refined, but never redefined. The process is straightforward—establishing the three aspects of the Lich: Body, Mind, and Soul, and connecting them through mana-thread harmonization."

I tapped the console, and a holographic diagram of the conventional tri-binding method appeared, showcasing the usual method of threading mana channels between the Skeleton (Body), Skull (Mind), and Source (Soul).

"This is the current standard. It works. It has no drawbacks. But," I let the word hang in the air, "just because something works does not mean it can’t be improved."

A subtle shift in the room. Now I had their attention.

I adjusted the display, and a new model appeared. This one wasn’t drastically different—but the difference was there, elegant in its efficiency.

"The Nightingale Binding Method"

- Reduces mana waste by 21.4%.

- Increases stability of the binding process, ensuring better long-term cohesion.

- Enhances response synchronization, making the Lich’s reactions more fluid.

More murmurs.

One of the judges, an older man with thin spectacles, narrowed his eyes. "This isn’t changing the method. It’s just improving efficiency."

I nodded. "Exactly. The traditional method isn’t wrong—but my method is simply better. More efficient, more stable, and more controllable."

A judge with silver-rimmed glasses leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "You’re claiming a 21.4% reduction in mana waste? That’s absurdly specific. How did you measure that?"

I flicked my wrist, and another display popped up, showing data logs from my own experimentations.

"The numbers come from extensive trials," I explained. "I’ve taken standard binding sequences and restructured them, using a more fluid approach to mana thread harmonization. By adjusting the thread density and flow control, the binding process adapts to the unique characteristics of the materials used, rather than forcing all Sources to conform to a rigid, pre-designed framework."

I could see realization dawning in some of their eyes.

They got it.

This wasn’t reinventing the wheel.

It was making the wheel roll smoother.

"The process of creating a Lich is delicate," I continued, "and slight inefficiencies can compound. The energy needed to stabilize the tri-binding process is always the highest cost. My method reduces that strain without altering the fundamental process."

One of the stricter judges scoffed. "That’s all well and good in theory, but without practical application—"

"I’ve already applied it," I cut in smoothly, adjusting the display to show a log of my completed experiment.

The screen flickered, showing the harmonization graphs.

"The data speaks for itself," I said, stepping back.

The silver-rimmed judge laughed softly, shaking her head. "This level of refinement—this is the kind of thing we see in the senior research panel. Not in the junior section."

The older man with spectacles adjusted them, rereading my numbers. His lips pressed together. "You’ve essentially created a superior version of the current process."

I nodded.

The lead judge, who had torn apart every other presentation, finally spoke, her voice composed but filled with weight. "Your research has changed the fundamental understanding of necromantic construction."

Then she sighed, rubbing her temples. "As much as I hate to say it, we’re going to have to forward this directly to the senior research panel."

A ripple of shock passed through the hall.

This was unprecedented.

My submission had skipped past the junior section entirely.

I had bypassed the intended level and been pushed up to the main research discussion.

The lead judge let out a slow breath, before giving the final verdict.

"Accepted. Without question."

Applause erupted.

I exhaled slowly, letting the weight of that moment sink in.

Cecilia leaned in, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. "Damn, Nightingale. You really do love ruining expectations, don’t you?"

I just smiled, stepping down from the podium, my mind still processing everything.

"Well done, Arthur," Professor Gravemore said, his voice carrying a rare note of pride. "As expected, your research is exceptional. The Tower of Magic will be desperate to get their hands on it. After all, it allows them to propel necromantic research forward—maybe even close the gap with the Ebony Tower of the Western Continent."

I nodded, but deep down, my heart was pounding.

The problem wasn’t the success.

It was how I’d achieved it.

I had no memory of the moment I figured out the new tri-binding method. The recollection was simply gone, as if it had been plucked from my mind. And it wasn’t just that.

I had done more than refine an existing process.

I had changed the fundamental nature of the Source itself.

I had somehow elevated the Basilisk’s soul—an impossible feat—turning my Lich into an Ancient Undead, a true sentient being rather than just an advanced construct. A feat that should have been impossible. A feat that had only ever existed in theory.

Only Professor Gravemore and I knew this.

And even he didn’t understand how I had done it.

I exhaled slowly, keeping my expression neutral as I turned to Cecilia.

"Cecilia," I whispered, my tone accusatory.

She smirked, already knowing where I was going with this. "What?"

"Did you have to bully the other students like this?" I asked, voice flat.

Her smirk widened. "Absolutely."

I sighed. "You stacked the judges, didn’t you?"

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"What do you mean?" she said, tilting her head, playing innocent.

I narrowed my eyes. "You used your influence to get the harshest, most cutthroat panel possible."

"Of course I did," she said, laughing. "Did you see their faces when their research got shredded? It was hilarious."

I groaned. "You’re unbelievable."

"And," she continued, completely ignoring me, "now that your research was deemed worthy, it was automatically submitted to the senior conference because of the stacked judge panel."

That made me pause.

Cecilia’s smirk deepened. "You know who oversees the senior conference?"

I didn’t answer, but my mind was already racing.

"The Tower Master," Cecilia revealed, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "The strongest spellcaster in the world. Archmage Charlotte Alaric."

I gulped.

Archmage Charlotte Alaric. The pinnacle of human spellcasting. Rank 3 in the world. The woman who had rewritten half of the modern magical theories that we studied today.

The Tower Master herself would now be reading my work.

Cecilia stepped closer, her expression turning serious. "This is important for you, Arthur," she said quietly. "She may not be a necromancer or a dark mage, but she still has interest in those fields. And what you’ve done here? It changes things. Not just for you. For the entire field of necromancy."

I didn’t respond immediately, my thoughts churning.

Because she was right.

This was far bigger than just an academic exercise.

This was exposure. This was a direct invitation into the eyes of the most powerful mages in the world.

And, more importantly—

Cecilia’s voice dropped lower, her smile fading. "You realize what this means, don’t you?"

I met her gaze.

"In the future," she said, her crimson eyes gleaming, "even the Ebony Tower and the West will be after your research."

I clenched my jaw.

She was right.