Oii, System. I just used basically nothing, and the effect was that? So if I used more mana, the effects increase, right? In both ways: say a fireball needs 1 mana. If I give it 99 and throw it raw, it's a big boom. But if I give it 99 and condense it as much as I can before throwing? And for my eyes too? What's gonna happen? If my control isn't good enough, it'll go sideways, right?
Ali's mind was racing ahead, building castles of hypothetical power before he'd even laid the foundation. The System reeled him back in with cold, hard numbers.
[Query: Mana Scaling, Efficiency, and Control.]
Answer Set:
1. More Mana = Greater Effect (Generally): Yes. Channeling 10x the mana to your eyes would proportionally increase duration and/or intensity of enhancement (e.g., 30 seconds of hyper-clarity, or 3 seconds of truly superhuman visual processing). However, there are diminishing returns and hard limits based on your body's ability to withstand the infusion. Pump too much too fast, and you burn out the nerves.
2. Raw Power vs. Controlled Power (The Fireball Example):
99 Mana, Raw: You expend 99 units with catastrophic inefficiency. 90 units might dissipate as heat, light, and noise around the spell structure. You get a massive, wasteful explosion of force and a huge magical 'ripple.' Area of effect: large. Damage per mana point: very low. Control: none.
99 Mana, Condensed: This requires a high-tier skill like [Mana Compression] or [Spell Shaping]. You pack the 99 units into a tighter, more stable matrix. Result: a smaller, denser, hotter, more penetrating explosion. Area of effect: small. Damage per mana point: high. Control: precise. This is the difference between a bonfire and a plasma cutter.
3. The Risk of Sideways Effects: Exactly. With low [Mana Manipulation] skill, attempting to channel large amounts is like trying to perform microsurgery while wearing mittens and having the shakes. Outcomes include:
Backlash: Mana rebounds into your own channels, causing internal damage (nerve burns, organ stress).
Leakage: Mana bleeds out into unwanted areas (channeling to your eyes accidentally strengthens your sinuses instead, causing a hemorrhage).
Loss of Control: The spell/structure destabilizes (fireball detonates in your face).
Waste: The majority of the mana is squandered as uncontrolled emission (light, heat, sound).
And currently, Ali pressed, my Fledgling core... it's like a newborn baby's, right? A peasant baby? '100 max'? And what's with the regeneration rate? It's a joke. My core grade matters, right? My Fledgling mana is... weaker than a higher grade's?
[Core Grade & Quality Analysis]
The '100' is an arbitrary System baseline for measurement. A newborn human in this world might have a core capacity of 5/5 (Peasant-Grade, Rank G). Their mana is thin, slow to regenerate, and poorly attuned.
Your [Fledgling] core is functionally similar at startup—pathetic. But the Grade is not just about capacity. It's about Quality.
Fledgling-Grade Mana: Unrefined. Low 'potency' or 'density.' It takes more of it to achieve the same effect as a higher grade. It's like wet kindling compared to dry coal.
Apprentice/Noble/Etc.-Grade Mana: Progressively more refined, potent, and resonant. 1 unit of Noble-Grade mana might be worth 10 units of your current Fledgling mana in terms of effect. It also regenerates faster and is easier to control for those born to it.
Regeneration Rate: Your 0.00001/hour is a product of your core's current efficiency (abysmal) and the ambient mana density (low, due to Blackridge's location and wards?). A commoner adult might regenerate 0.1/hour. A noble, 1/hour or more. Yours will increase with Core Grade and Rank.
The final, critical question hung in the air.
*So... if I go against an elf or a noble with a higher grade core and skill... I'm fucked. Even if I pour 1000 units of my wet-kindling mana into something, and even condense it, their 100 units of dragon's-breath mana and superior skill would vaporize mine, right?*
[Combat Power Differential Theorem]
Correct.
Power in this paradigm is a product of: Core Grade (Mana Quality) x Core Capacity (Mana Quantity) x Skill Proficiency (Efficiency/Control) x Knowledge (Spell Variety/Tactics).
You currently score: Fledgling (0.1) x 0.0001 (0.00001) x Level 1 Skills (0.1) x Minimal (0.1). Total Combat Coefficient: 0.0000001.
A low-ranked elven hunter might score: Advanced-Grade (10) x 80/100 (0.8) x Level 20 [Forest-Stealth] (2.0) x High (1.5). Coefficient: 24.
You would lose. Not just lose. You would be erased before your nervous system could process the threat. Their mana is not just more; it is better. Their control is instinctual, refined. Your 1000 units of chaff would be scattered by a breeze of their 100 units of forged steel.
The brutal math was a bucket of ice water. His momentary feeling of being a "mage" evaporated. He was a toddler who had just learned to make a fist in a world of veteran swordsmen.
But then, the System appended the crucial, defining clause.
[The Differential is NOT Static.]
Their scores are largely FIXED. Their Core Grade is set. Their capacity has a hard ceiling. Their skill progression will slow and stop.
Your scores are VARIABLES IN AN OPEN-ENDED EQUATION.
Your Core Grade will increase.
Your Capacity has no known ceiling.
Your Skills are System-optimized, bypassing traditional plateaus.
Your Knowledge will compound.
Conclusion: You are not powerful. You are potential. In the short term, you must hide, avoid conflict, and grind in secrecy. In the long term, the being with the mutable core, the optimizing intelligence, and the relentless grinding will can, in theory, rewrite the arithmetic. The noble's 100 units of dragon's-breath mana will one day meet your 10,000 units of neutron-star mana, compressed by skill-levels they cannot comprehend.
The message was clear: Survive now. Outgrow everyone later.
Ali sat in the silent shed, the fatigue from his channeling now mixed with a deep, sober understanding. The road was endless. The starting line was miles behind everyone else. But he was the only one whose finish line kept moving further into the distance, pulling him toward a horizon of power others couldn't even imagine.
He wasn't a mage yet. He was a seed. And he had just felt the first, fragile crack in his shell.
"One step at a time," he whispered to the dark. "Fill the bucket. Improve the grade. Learn to channel without falling over."
The next step was clear: rest, let his minuscule mana regenerate, and tomorrow, try to feel that passive drip, to encourage it, to maybe—just maybe—take one tiny, silent scoop from the world around him.
The arithmetic of power had been defined. Now he had to start solving it, one painstaking digit at a time.