Simon made a simple bow strap to secure the bow to his back. He had been spaced out for a long time, not thinking of anything in particular, but a lot of time had passed. Serana was strolling on the terrace, while Geleb was reaching out to catch the red snowflakes.
Simon walked over to the last remaining Snow Elf. As a Nord, they could chat amicably.
"This snow is truly sorrowful," Geleb gazed tenderly at the red ice crystals in his palm. His palm was flushed red, but it seemed to have little warmth; the snowflakes hadn't melted and remained still.
"It contains the blood of your brother, and the blood of my father-in-law," Simon replied truthfully.
Geleb smiled and shook his head, "Ah, why bother?"
Simon also smiled, a silent understanding between them. Serana was looking out over the river valley from the terrace wall. The sky was dimly lit, and in the distance, a frozen lake shimmered blue in the faint light, appearing exceptionally exquisite compared to the somber, oppressive, and chilly mountains.
Simon walked over and stood to her left. He placed his hand on the stone railing, his body heat melting a thin patch of snow, leaving a damp palm print.
Serana idly brushed the silky snow on the wide railing and asked softly, "What do we do next? Wander the world, making homes wherever we go, or return to Winterhold to run a general store? Haha, we can't just go kill two more dragons, can we?"
Before her words finished, the ground trembled, shaken by a deep Dragon Shout. The sound was muffled, carrying the resonance of tides. The ice on the frozen lake cracked with a thunderous roar. Dragon Shouts rang out one after another, each higher pitched than the last, growing closer. Finally, two massive dragons leaped from the lake, shedding lake water like white flowers. The water droplets froze in mid-air, scattering into a flurry of frost and snow.
Serana looked incredulous, "What the hell is this?!"
Simon squinted. On the distant lakeside, two dark specks were squirming—that was Jonas and his companions. The arrival of Dragonborn, and the mutual attraction of Dragon Souls, had awakened the sleeping ancient dragons.
The two colossal dragons soared in the air, screaming: Dovahkiin! Krif! Dir het! (Dragonborn! Fight! Die here!)
Serana frowned, "What should we do?"
"Wait a moment. The Word of Power of these two dragons isn't strong. Let Jonas and Dilo handle them."
"You mean those two kids? No! How can you?!"
"Dragonborn are professional dragon-slaying weapons, and besides…" Simon raised his right palm, an epiphyllum bloomed, and then an ebony ingot flew out, suspended by telekinesis.
"Sun, Soul Burn, Inferno!" Simon exhaled a thin stream of golden flame. Serana couldn't help but step back a few paces; the high temperature and intense life-magic energy made her uncomfortable. This was her first time seeing Simon forge, and she was very curious. Watching his face illuminated by the golden flames, seriously ugly, she couldn't help but laugh.
The ebony ingot melted under high heat, turning into a shiny black molten mass. At first, it glowed with pale silver specks like a starry sky, then gradually added golden specks. This was a change in the material's form after being influenced by the Word of Power. The Breath of Burning Clouds contained the words'Sun' and 'Inferno', which perfectly aligned with Auriel's divinity in Simon's mind, leading to some peculiar mutations: extra damage bonus against undead creatures, and a natural enchantment of fire burning… Telekinesis is truly a very useful spell—as long as one's mind is powerful and precise enough, there are infinite possibilities.
Simon's forging technique was not as fundamentally robust as modern industry. He would encounter a series of problems, such as product precision, material hardness, and countless other details, but all of these could be compensated for by magic.
When making External Armor, especially The Core, with its intricate gears and transmission structures, some of which had diameters less than one-sixteenth of an inch, they were incredibly tiny. He designed these things in advance, but for actual production, he also needed to combine them with his own set of statistical units.
The precision of statistical units is the basis of technology. The units used by people on Earth have also been repeatedly confirmed, such as meters, kilograms, etc. There must be unified standards to carry out measurement work.
Simon also integrated a set of statistical units. For time, he adopted the more classical Dwemer scientific timing method: two hundred thousand fluctuations of primordial magic energy in a pure soul stone of arbitrary volume in a non-magical, vacuum environment counted as one 'tone', which is slightly less than one-thirtieth of a second. Simon didn't need to calculate these himself; the Dwemer had inherited corresponding timing magic.
Natural units like length, temperature, and pressure were also standardized—though often unnecessary. Magic was simply too convenient, turning stone into gold, and decay into wonder. If there was something one spell couldn't solve, then invent another.
During forging, besides mass-producing large components with the Necrotic Furnace, Simon also used telekinesis for fine-tuned operations, such as inscribing enchantments on metal wires. Telekinesis is an extremely sensitive power, capable of even measuring the length light travels in a unit of time between two points—perhaps that's not intuitive enough. To put it another way, if a beam of light passes through a transparent glass tube, from its entry at one end until it touches the other, such tiny and rapid changes are very apparent to the senses of telekinesis.
Simon could do many incredible things with telekinesis. He could evenly divide a basin of water into two portions, with each portion containing an equal number of material particles.
Yet, even with such incredible abilities, Simon was unable to enter the microscopic world—because it was an unobservable, immeasurable chaos.
What truly made Simon confirm that he lived in an idealistic world?
Perhaps it was from the very beginning... Two raven-gold ebony arrows formed in Simon's hands.
In the distance, the Breton boy, covered head to toe in splendid Dragon Soul Armor, let out a furious roar: "Fus Ro Dah!"
Unrelenting Force, a very basic Word of Power, but it depends on who shouts it. A Dragonborn who has subdued Dragon Souls has the most complete resonance with magic energy. This time, the Unrelenting Force was no longer a mere gust of air, but a small hurricane, a pale blue cyclone with a six-hundred-foot radius that shot straight into the sky. Although it lacked destructive power, it was enough to make the two circling Frost Dragons sway, stumbling like birds with broken wings, falling, then struggling to fly again.
Simon showed a satisfied smile. The child had grown up, but this level was far from enough. Dragons' flight did not rely on their wings, but on the authority bestowed upon them by the sky. As long as they were not in a weakened state, they could soar freely.
Dilo listened to Jonas's advice and ran far away without looking back, but he was unlucky. One giant dragon swooped down, smashing a large area of ice. Dilo was a bit slow, caught by the cracking ice, and fell into the bone-chilling lake water.
Simon squinted, took down Auriel's Bow, and placed it on the railing, not rushing to shoot.
Now Jonas stood on the ice, with two Frost Dragons—one in the sky, one below—he was attacked from front and back. But he remained calm in the face of danger, softly chanting a spell, and conjured a fireball to throw at the sky. The Ice Dragon in the sky gently turned, about to dodge the fireball, but Jonas seized the opportunity and directly detonated it. A brilliant flash of fire erupted, and amidst the golden-red flames, azure lightning flickered. Lightning and fire clashed, coalescing into boiling plasma that splashed onto the Ice Dragon's body.
"Aow!" The stinging pain from the burning and electrocution made the Ice Dragon wail. Restricted by its size, it couldn't extinguish the plasma adhering between its wings with a breath. Dragon hide had high magic resistance, but it wasn't impenetrable; at least the pain was real. To put out the fire, the giant dragon had to dive towards the lake, hoping to roll around in the water.
Jonas, who had been standing on the ground, suddenly flew up and charged towards the Ice Dragon. This scene brought a knowing smile to Serana's face, "That child charging at the giant dragon is so much like you."
Simon slowly drew his bow, the aura of killing intent, guided by his gaze, pierced the Ice Dragon from afar. The dragon visibly tensed up, then Jonas's ice spike pierced its nictitating membrane and plunged into its eye. The ice spike exploded, and flames erupted. The Ice Dragon's skull was about thirty percent cooked. It trembled all over, falling crookedly towards the ground.
Simon nodded, "Excellent application of magic, full of ingenious ideas. It seems the College of Winterhold still has some tricks up its sleeve."
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