Pandora Unchained B1C58: Self-Experimentation

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Sorin was no stranger to spell craft, as in his younger years, his mentor had forced him to study spell theory and minor spells to make up for a physician's deficits. Though he'd only begun cultivating six years ago and had spent 3 of these years as a cripple, those three years he had practiced had been filled with ample mana manipulation drills and exercises that amplified manual dexterity.

Unlike life mages, physicians didn't study complex healing spells. Instead, they focused on the simple application of life mana using various shapes and techniques. They treated specific injuries and provided vital support for individual systems instead of the whole body.

Though Sorin couldn't use healing mana, the techniques he'd learned allowed Sorin to bypass many troublesome steps in the learning process. He was able to form a proper 1-star poison needle after only 98 attempts at the spell, complete with all 36 runes and 12 mana lines that joined together at a point.

Sharp, small, and concentrated. This was the essence of needle spells. As the author of the spell indicated, it was possible to create a large and clumsy spear if one wished to do so. The mana requirements would spike, and its might would increase by a corresponding amount.

Size control was essential for Sorin, so he experimented with shrinking the needle down to as small a size as possible and reducing its thickness. He repeatedly banished and summoned needles in various positions inside flexible tubing that had been left after the Kepler Clan's raid on his manor.

Mana composition is essential, thought Sorin as he executed the spell using combinations of paralytic, acidic, and anti-mana properties. The needle I need relies on a balance between anti-mana and acidic properties. After a half day of trying, he was eventually able to achieve his goal – a needle that precisely replicated the meridian unlocking tincture in Sirius's research notes.

After that, it was a simple matter to condense two more needle templates, one with anti-mana and paralytic properties and another with pure acid properties. The first would be used in small numbers to paralyze demons in battle. The second would be used in a spray-style arrangement at point-blank range to eliminate small numbers of lesser demons.

Once the fine-tuning of the spell was complete, he used the Ophidian Eye enchantment to enhance his vision. It was a low-tier spell that had required two hours total to comprehend. His improved vision lit up the meridians running through his body. This included all opened meridians, as well as his unopened Belt Vessel, Conception Vessel, and Governing Sessel. The first was dormant, while the other two were sealed, allowing only the slightest trickle of mana through.

With Ophidian Eye lighting up the way, Sorin threw his newly formulated paralytic needle into his thigh. The needle pierced into his flesh, stopping just short of his bone. A numbing sensation spread out, completely disrupting his muscles and nervous system. His mana flow grew chaotic.

He then stood up and tried to walk and confirmed that only limping was possible. Twenty seconds of paralysis isn't bad, considering my resistance to poison, but I'll need a better test subject, thought Sorin. Lorimer? No, he's highly resistant to poison. Maybe Lawrence? Given that the risks were very minimal, using the rogue as a forceful test subject would serve the dual goals of further science and punishing him for his ethically dubious behavior.

But I can't experiment with meridian unlocking the same way, continued Sorin. Piercing into an acupoint would have little effect. I can already clear out meridians using my mana and spiritual senses. What I need to do instead is inject mana into a living body and form a poison needle despite their natural resistance and mana flow.

Sorin's regeneration rate was S-ranked, meaning that even his internal organs and nerves would regenerate if damaged. He, therefore, didn't hesitate to inject mana from his finger into his arm. He cast Threading the Spear, single needle style. His natural mana immediately tried to absorb the spell, but Sorin suppressed it and forced the spell template into existence.

Crap! A small explosion of poison mana ruptured his meridian as the spell form collapsed. The collapse had come quickly and without warning. Having expected such an occurrence, however, he numbed his arm. He ignored the pain as he ruminated over the reason for his failure.

What followed was a series of consecutive attempts using different undamaged meridians. With every failure, Sorin switched to a new and undamaged part of his body and repeated the process.

Sorin grew increasingly skillful as time went by. The first successful needle took 2 hours to form, but the second only took 15 minutes. By midnight, he could already form a needle with 95% assurance i. It wasn't the same as attempting the matter on a separate living host, but it was progress.

"Good morning, Mr. Kepler," greeted Percival the next day. "Up late working?"

Sorin yawned as he accepted a freshly brewed cup of coffee, along with a plate of buttered toast and a few links of fried sausage. "How are the preparations going for tonight's dinner?"

"Everything is going as planned," said Percival. "There's no need to worry about anything, Mr. KLepler. Simply focus on your work and enjoy."

"How's Lorimer doing?" asked Sorin. "I hear you found something interesting to keep him busy?"

"This…" Percival grimaced. "It's frankly impossible to keep that rat out of trouble. I therefore consulted with the city guard on the issue and obtained some intriguing suggestions."

Sorin jumped. "The city guard? Why are you involving them?"

"Relax," Percival assured. "It's nothing bad. The guard is as concerned about his good behavior as you are, as the last thing they want is a swarm of vengeful rats nipping at them while they try to sleep."

Sorin relaxed substantially. "Then please continue."

"The city has an expansive sewer system running beneath the outpost," Percival explained. "It's a place of filth and corruption that constantly spawns demons that the guards must clear out. But a good portion of the guards have no desire to deal with such problems. I, therefore, approached their captains and struck a deal with them: On their shifts, Lorimer would go down into the sewers and come back with whatever demon cores he collected. He'll get to keep half the demon cores he finds but must turn the rest in for the guards as proof of having performed his duties."

This was entirely too much news for Sorin to take in, given his sleep-deprived state. Still, he steadied himself with a sip of hot coffee and gave Percival an approving nod. "Well done, Percival. You're a credit to the force."

"I'm simply a man who knows how to get by on a tight budget," said Percival.

Given Percival's words, Sorin had an inkling of what Percival had been doing to keep the house's finances afloat. "There will be no need to worry about such things in the future, Percival. You can rely on me for the house's finances going forward."

He then switched to another topic. ""Is there anything I should take note of in the news?" Newspapers were luxurious because they required ink stones from the mage's guild for printing. It was only recently that they had no issue affording this nicety.

"There are a few important things for you to take note of," reported Percival. "For example, the upcoming demon tide and preparations for winter. Most of the rest is nonsense, but I do recall seeing a mage image of a certain rogue sneaking around a mage's property." He flipped to the seventh page and showed the dark, barely recognizable image of a man jumping over a fence.

"That's Lawrence alright, though he'll deny it to the end," said Sorin.

"News aside, you had a delivery this morning," said Percival.

"A delivery?" asked Sorin, intrigued. "I don't remember expecting one."

"You can go downstairs to check things out," said Percival with a smile. "I've already taken the trouble to unpack everything in the lab. Your books have also been moved to the study, and your desk is back in your office."

"Marcus is a conniving snake, but he's being honest this time," muttered Sorin. "What in the Seven Evils is his angle? Why would the family suddenly give me back my things?"

Sorin hastily finished breakfast before going upstairs and looking through the books in his study. Virtually all of his books had been returned, with the exception of the Divine Medical Codex. What's more, they'd been cleaned of all dust and organized alphabetically.

Were they looking for something? Thought Sorin as he flipped through the books. Even stiff ones he hadn't read through in years were now soft and pliable.

The more he looked through his collection, the more stock he gave to this theory. It was just like that time after he'd recovered from his injuries and was able to walk again after his cultivation was crippled. Upon going through the things in his bedroom, he'd realized that all his belongings had been searched. There hadn't been any attempt at hiding this fact, so his naïve self had pitched a fit. It was the same for his late father's lab and clinic.

Expecting the worst, Sorin finished up in the library and made his way down to the basement. To his surprise, however, his labware was pristinely clean. The ones that had been broken during the search had been replaced, and two items, a ventilation spell plate and a heating spell plate, had been added.

"This is going a bit far for reparations," said Sorin as Percival came down. "What's going on here, Percival?"

"I honestly don't have much of a clue," said Percival. "So I sent went to the telegram office and sent a message to one of the elders in the punishment bureau that I am in frequent contact with. He simply stated that the punishment was overly harsh and that the council of elders had ordered Marcus's branch of the family to replace your belongings and refurbish the laboratory."

"Just say what's on your mind," said Sorin.

"To be honest, this matter is extremely suspicious," Percival said bluntly. "Moreover, even your books seem like they received a very heavy dusting if you catch my drift." His comments confirmed Sorin's suspicions. "What do you intend to do, Mr. Kepler?"

Sorin shrugged. "I'll proceed as normal. They're clearly looking for something, but I have nothing to hide." He wasn't going to repeat the mistakes of his younger self. Raising the alarm and complaining would only cause people to look down on him and damage his already tarnished image.

"You've grown up," said Percival. "I'm glad you're not walking down the same path as before. If that's everything, I'll be heading upstairs to help Clarice with the preparations for tonight's dinner."

The butler excused himself, leaving Sorin to look through his upgraded laboratory equipment. He swept through the lab in search of surveillance devices but found none. Nothing was tampered with, and that included the medical mannequin. This object was easily worth 5,000 gold and could only be obtained in a city using the right connections. Of course, the old mannequin had undergone a complete overhaul. It had been completely dismantled and cleaned, and most of its used parts had been replaced.

Having determined that everything was in order, Sorin activated the mannequin with mana crystals and pressed his finger on one of its acupoints. He poured a small dose of poison mana into the mannequin and tried to form a mana needle in its thigh meridian.

It's much more difficult on a mannequin than inside my own meridians, thought Sorin as the needle exploded, damaging the mannequin. Thankfully, the mannequin had auto-repair functions, and it wasn't long before the meridian completely recovered.

Undeterred by a single failure, Sorin repeated the process several dozen times before succeeding. Then, having established the theoretical possibility, Sorin perfected the process before guiding the needle halfway up a meridian. He got about halfway through the meridian before encountering a difficult-to-navigate section and accidentally rupturing the meridian. Fortunately, I didn't have to travel such a long distance during the treatment.

Encouraged by this preliminary success, Sorin continued his experiments and formulated a plan for possible future steps. Once the mannequin outlived its usefulness, he could use live demon specimens or cadavers to practice.

As for experimenting with humans, this was to be done at the very end of the research process. He wasn't like his ancestor, Sirius Abberjay Kepler, who was willing to throw thousands of lives away to obtain an answer. A physician should always have a bottom line, no matter how great the benefit might be. Even if this benefit could uplift humanity as a whole.

It was then that Sorin froze. The needle he was guiding exploded in the mannequin and even ruptured the tip of his finger. He ignored the blood that dribbled down onto the stone floor as he connected certain matters, including the death of his parents, his crippling, the searching of his possessions, and the Kepler Clan's strange treatment.

There were, after all, two things that Sorin intended to hide from his family. The first was the Ten Thousand Poison Canon and its origins. As for the second, it was something he'd discovered only a short time ago: Sirus Abberjay Kepler's research notes, which had been inscribed on his bones without his knowledge.