Wizard from The Modern

In the next moment, Richard uttered with authority, "Mark, your affairs must wait. I grant you time—forge for me a kite and a bottle. I shall provide you with the blueprint for the bottle, and the result is simple; do not fret. Should you fail to meet the deadline, do not blame me for the outcome. You well know that the butcher has long held a grudge against you, seeking the slightest opportunity to sever your head from your shoulders—yet he has found no chance thus far."

At these grim words, Mark trembled, his body coursing with cold dread, protesting, "Master Richard, no! It shall not come to that! This time, I shall indeed craft it for you, I promise!"

"Very well," Richard replied crisply.

After a span of ten minutes, amidst the howling winds outside the castle, Mark struggled to control the kite, his body shaking and face pale as the storm brewed overhead.

Casting a wary glance at the lightning that flickered across the sky, he turned his head towards Richard, now safe in the distance. With a voice tinged with despair, old Mark cried out, "Master Richard... Master Richard, have mercy! Such weather is ill-suited for kite flying! The silver thread may draw the lightning down upon me!"

Standing resolute, Richard replied with an impassive expression, "If memory serves me right, you once declared that if you were to fail in completing the task on time, you would rather I whip you to death, correct?"

"That..."

"I need not whip you today; I only ask you to undertake another task. I concede this bears its dangers, but I assure you that the odds of death are not absolute—perhaps less than fifty percent. Now, you must choose: would you rather be lashed to death or dare to fly this kite? Believe me, if you choose the former, my heart shall not soften. Even if it did, the butcher's resolve would remain unyielding—I shall instruct him personally to carry out the punishment."

Despair flooded Mark's features, and at last, surrendering, he wept, "Very well, Master Richard. I shall fly the kite."

"Excellent," Richard nodded, issuing commands, "Now, release the line a bit; allow the kite to soar higher—yes, draw it closer to the lightning. That's right, approach the spark..."

"Boom!"

Before Richard could finish, a blinding bolt of lightning cleaved the air above, followed by a deafening clap of thunder.

Visible to the naked eye, a twisting arc of lightning appeared to be attracted to the kite, striking it in an instant, racing down the slender silver line towards the ground, ultimately reaching the tip, where it surged into a peculiar-shaped ceramic vessel.

Old Mark, clutching the kite string, staggered back, his heart racing at the sight of lightning crackling overhead. As the electric current thundered down in proximity, he felt the horror reverberating through the kite string—a sensation of numbness overwhelmed him, and in that moment, he felt encased by death. Not known for his bravery, he crumbled, his body going limp as he slumped to the ground. The kite, along with its tether, flew away, the ceramic vessel rising slowly from the earth.

Richard reacted swiftly, dashing over to seize the jar, exhaling a sigh of relief. He then called out, "Butcher!"

"Yes, my lord!" A mountain-like figure approached, revealing the scarred visage of the butcher.

Foreseeing old Mark's vehement refusal to engage in the kite experiment, Richard had summoned the butcher as a precaution, a wise choice that, thankfully, had not been needed.

Richard gestured towards Mark, still sprawled on the ground, and instructed, "Take him to the shed next to the stable, and grant him a barrel of ale to soothe his nerves."

At this moment, shaken and unhinged from fear, old Mark babbled incoherently.

"Yes, my lord," the butcher replied curtly, lifting the rambling old man as one might a chick, and hastily departed.

Richard turned and retreated into the side castle.

Just as he stepped into the side hall, a deluge of rain began to fall, unleashing a torrent that swept across the wilds, enveloping the world in a shroud of white.

"Tap, tap, tap," echoed the soft footsteps of the maid Lucy descending from the upper floors, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. Upon noticing Richard in the hall, she paused briefly, then tilted her head in inquiry, "Master, I have cleaned all the experimental apparatus. Do you wish to proceed with your experiment now?"

Richard, cradling the Leyden jar that contained the captured lightning, shook his head lightly. "Not for the moment; I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"More pressing matters? What might they be?" the maid asked, her curiosity piqued. To her, it seemed that Richard's life revolved solely around experimentation—conducting all manner of trials.

A smile crossed Richard's face as he ascended the staircase. As he brushed past Lucy, he turned slightly, whispering, "The more important matter, of course, is... to unlock the door to a new era."

"Hmm?"

"Tap, tap, tap..." Richard entered the bedroom within the side castle.

Once seated upon the wooden bed, Richard focused his gaze upon the ceramic vessel in his hands—the Leyden jar, as it was known.

The principle of the Leyden jar is straightforward; it functions as a rudimentary capacitor: due to mutual induction, positive and negative charges can be stored on two corresponding metallic conductors, separated by an insulator, thus hoarding electric energy.

For this reason, the construction of the Leyden jar is remarkably simple. The one Richard held was merely an ordinary black ceramic bottle, measuring a little over ten centimeters in height. After a simple process, the inner and outer walls were lined with a layer of tin foil, serving as the two conductors separated by the bottle's wall.

From the inner foil, a thin metallic chain hung, connecting to a metal rod fixed at the jar's center. The rod extended several centimeters beyond the bottle's mouth, its end fashioned into a sphere.

During the recent storm, this spherical end had linked to the silver wire, designed to capture the electrical energy from the natural realm. Now, with the silver wire removed, the energy harvested was all contained within the diminutive jar.

Do not underestimate the small size of the jar; its capacity to store the energy of lightning is substantial.

As recorded in modern Earth's history, in 1748, the French electrical expert Nollet organized over two hundred monks to stand hand in hand within a monastery, with the monks at the head and tail gripping the Leyden jar's connections. When the jar began to discharge, all two hundred monks jumped simultaneously, sending shockwaves of astonishment through the gathered nobility.

At this moment, Richard gazed intently at the Leyden jar in his hands, reflecting upon the anecdotes of modern Earth's history, before taking a deep breath and reaching out.

The Leyden jar began to discharge...