The Extra is a Genius!?-Chapter 586: Creation [I]

Two weeks passed before the design stopped changing every hour.

The study room in the Valon mansion no longer resembled a place meant for reading. Sheets of parchment covered the central table, layered with diagrams, mana flow calculations, spatial anchors drawn and redrawn until the ink nearly tore through the page. Runes overlapped one another in successive drafts, some crossed out violently, others circled and refined.

Noel stood at the edge of the main table, sleeves rolled back, staring at the newest configuration of the inner ring. Faint traces of mana still lingered from the last theoretical simulation he had run through it.

It had failed.

Again.

This was not an impulsive creation. Not something born from arrogance or sudden inspiration. Every line on those pages was the result of iteration. Adjustment. Correction. He had dismantled the design and rebuilt it more times than he cared to count.

Across from him, Selene leaned slightly over another parchment, blue hair falling forward as she traced a section of the outer inscription with her finger.

"The flow collapses here," she said evenly, tapping a precise point near the junction of two rune chains. "You’re forcing too much output through a narrow stabilizing band."

Noel exhaled through his nose. "If I widen it, the cost increases."

"It already increases when it destabilizes," she replied.

He didn’t argue. He redrew the line.

At the far end of the room, Daemar stood with arms crossed, observing rather than interfering. He only stepped forward when something crossed from theoretical flaw into practical disaster.

"You’re designing this as if your reserves are infinite," Daemar said calmly. "They’re not."

Noel glanced at him. "They’re sufficient."

"For combat," Daemar corrected. "Not for sustained structural maintenance."

He walked closer and pointed at the central convergence point of the diagram.

"If the anchor isn’t perfectly balanced, the circle won’t simply fail. It will tear."

Selene’s eyes lifted slightly at that.

"We’re not building a portal," she said.

"No," Noel replied. "We’re building a closed transfer."

That distinction mattered.

The artifact would not be portable. It would not be a ring, nor a relic carried on the body. It would be inscribed into the ground itself. A fixed spatial circle. Two platforms, permanently connected.

Entry.

Exit.

A controlled fold between them.

The connection would form only at activation and collapse immediately after transfer.

He reached for a worn leather-bound book resting near the edge of the table and flipped it open to a marked page.

Nicolas’s journal.

Ancient notes on spatial seals—half commentary, half warning. References to fixed coordinate locks and the dangers of leaving bidirectional flow unchecked.

Selene read over his shoulder.

"He mentions dual spirals," she murmured.

"Yes."

"A mirrored inscription."

"To counter rotational drift," Noel finished.

Daemar nodded once. "That reduces long-term strain."

Noel adjusted the design again, drawing two interwoven spirals into the outer band of the circle.

This was the third complete redesign.

The first had worked in theory but consumed far too much mana to be practical. The second had stabilized output but introduced distortion along the exit point. The third had nearly detonated the test array when the resonance between inner and outer rings amplified instead of balanced.

That mistake had left scorch marks in the practice chamber below.

They were not repeating it.

"We’re missing something," Selene said quietly.

Noel stared at the center of the diagram.

"An anchor core," he said.

Daemar’s gaze sharpened.

"A fixed stabilizer embedded into the structure itself," Noel continued. "Not sustained purely by my mana."

Selene nodded slowly. "It would reduce strain during activation."

"And prevent bleed into surrounding space," Daemar added.

Noel began sketching again, this time marking a circular depression at the center of the design.

"Crystal?" Selene asked.

"No," Noel replied. "Crystal fractures under long-term stress." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

He thought for a moment.

"Condensed mana alloy."

Daemar allowed himself the faintest hint of approval. "Dwarven forge work."

"They’re already here," Noel said.

Indeed, in the workshop space below, the hired dwarven artisans were waiting for finalized schematics. They had been commissioned discreetly—sworn to silence, paid generously, and given access to reinforced stone beneath the mansion.

Selene studied the design one more time.

"One more thing," she said. "Activation control."

Noel nodded. "Mana signature filter."

He inscribed the final addition—a narrow band between inner and outer rings marked with selective gating runes.

The design settled.

For the first time in two weeks, none of them immediately pointed out a fatal flaw.

Noel rolled the parchment slowly.

"Let’s begin."

The subterranean chamber beneath the mansion had been reinforced long before this project began. Stone walls etched with older defensive arrays absorbed stray mana from the air. Lanterns hung at equal intervals along the perimeter, their steady light reflecting off dust suspended in motion.

The first strike of chisel against stone echoed sharply.

Then another.

The dwarven artisans worked without wasted movement. Broad shoulders bent forward, tools guided with millimetric precision as the outer circumference of the circle was carved directly into the reinforced floor. The design Noel had drafted above was now being translated into permanence—into stone that would not forgive mistakes.

Fine grooves formed first, shallow guidelines marking the exact curvature of the primary ring. Then deeper cuts followed, each channel intended to hold mana flow without fracture. Every line was measured twice before it was struck.

"This stone will hold," one of the dwarves muttered as he checked the depth of a carved spiral with a metal gauge. "But if your lines are wrong, it won’t be the stone that breaks first."

"They’re not wrong," Noel replied evenly.

He stood within the unfinished circle, palm hovering inches above the etched surface. A faint current of mana extended from him in controlled pulses, not to activate anything yet—but to test the resonance of the raw carving.

The air hummed softly in response.

Selene knelt at the edge of the chamber with a smaller draft resting over her knees, eyes flicking constantly between parchment and stone.

"Two millimeters off on the secondary spiral," she said without raising her voice.

The dwarf nearest that section paused immediately, adjusted, and shaved the excess with careful precision.

Noel altered the frequency of his mana output, feeding slightly more into the inner band. The channels responded with a low vibration.

"Don’t push it," Daemar said from where he stood near the entrance, arms folded.

"I’m not activating it," Noel replied.

"You’re testing strain," Daemar corrected. "There’s a difference between measuring and forcing."

Noel reduced the output by a fraction.

The structure settled.

As the carving progressed inward, the complexity became clear. This was not a single-layer inscription.

The circle held three distinct strata.

The first was the structural base—broad and deeply cut, meant to anchor the entire construct into the reinforced foundation. It was stability before function.

The second layer was narrower, interwoven through the first like veins through muscle. These were the channels: the actual pathways mana would travel when activation occurred. Their alignment had to be exact, or energy would bleed outward and destabilize the chamber itself.

The third layer was the most intricate.

Restriction.

Thin lines, almost delicate in appearance, forming a sealed lattice between inner and outer rings. This layer would regulate activation, prevent passive openings, and collapse the fold the instant transfer completed.

He stepped toward the central depression being carved for the anchor core. The dwarves had hollowed it carefully, shaping a circular cavity at the precise center of the array.

A small, dull-sheened ingot of condensed mana alloy rested nearby, forged under dwarven supervision earlier that week.

One of the artisans lifted it with thick gloves and lowered it into place.

It fit perfectly.

Noel placed his palm over it and allowed a measured stream of mana to flow downward.

The alloy responded immediately, absorbing without fluctuation.

"Good," he murmured.

Selene circled the outer perimeter slowly, eyes scanning the alignment from multiple angles.

"The geometric balance holds," she said. "No rotational skew."

Daemar walked a full circle around the chamber as well, examining each junction where the spirals intersected.

"And the activation band?" he asked.

Noel moved to the thin ring between the second and third layers and knelt.

He began carving additional inscriptions himself this time—smaller, tighter, requiring finer control than brute force engraving.

"These will filter by mana signature," he said as he worked. "Only mine by default."

"And others?" Selene asked.

"Predefined additions. Limited list."

"No creature will pass through accidentally?" Daemar pressed.

"No," Noel replied. "The gate only opens when triggered from within the allowed signatures. There’s no passive state."

He added a final seal at the outermost rim.

"Automatic collapse after use," he finished.

Hours passed without announcement.

Stone dust gathered along the edges of boots. The hum of testing pulses echoed faintly every time Noel verified a section. Selene corrected two minor angular deviations before they could propagate into larger flaws. Daemar halted Noel once when his mana output began climbing unconsciously under strain.

"Discipline," Daemar reminded him.

Noel exhaled and reset.

At last, the final restriction rune was etched.

The chamber fell quiet.

The first circle was complete.

It did not glow. It did not flare. It simply existed—carved deeply into the reinforced floor, symmetrical and heavy with dormant potential.

Noel stepped back and studied it in silence.

Above ground, through separate arrangements, a second team of dwarves had already begun engraving the twin circle within a controlled outdoor section of the estate—an open testing field prepared days earlier.

Entry below.

Exit above.