Dragon Raja 2; Chapter 99: Nigh Watch (2)

Dragon Raja 2

Blair Bitner frowned. “Grouss, the younger people have a weaker grasp of mechanics. Give them a basic explanation of stress!” This “Solomon of Mathematics” lived up to his title. He leaned on a black cane decorated with ivory, sitting upright on the hard wooden chair, his lion-like mane of hair resembling that of a Japanese samurai ready to commit seppuku—truly exuding an air of kingly dominance.

The “young professors,” with an average age of fifty, all showed embarrassed expressions.

“Simply put, a force applied to a metal structure is resisted by a counter-force called ‘stress.’ If the applied force is a twisting force, then the counter-force is ‘shear stress.’ Shear stress forms a shear stress flow, and immense force moves like water inside the metal structure. In weak and narrow areas, the force density is very high. When the density exceeds a certain threshold, the metal structure begins to collapse,” said Jean Grouss.

“So shear stress should be the enemy of any structure. Why was it so destructive in these two buildings?” someone asked.

“Good question. We’ve said that shear stress moves inside the metal parts like water, but it’s not evenly distributed; instead, it’s like chaotic turbulence. Small shear stress flows cancel each other out and don’t reach an unmanageable level. But there are exceptions.” The “Solomon of Mathematics” glanced at Grouss. “Mr. Mechanic, this is your area of expertise.”

Grouss nodded. “Yes, we call this exception ‘stress concentration.’ In an instant, the shear stress flow happens to concentrate at a weak junction point, producing a huge resultant force that destroys that point! But to induce stress concentration or awaken the ‘ghost-like’ stress, one would need to completely analyze the structure of the building. That would be a terrifying amount of computation—even Norma couldn’t handle it, so it’s beyond human capability.” He looked around the room. “Does anyone here know about ancient Eastern martial arts?”

The room fell silent.

Grouss nodded. “I’ve recently been studying a Chinese martial art called ‘Diamond Finger Zen.’”

The room remained silent. The genius of academia indeed had an unpredictable mind; everyone else felt lost, not knowing what he was trying to convey, except for the “Solomon of Mathematics,” who nodded slightly, seemingly a fellow enthusiast of martial arts.

Grouss raised a thick finger, his eyes gleaming. “‘Diamond Finger Zen’ is a Shaolin martial art. It is said that those who master it can shatter stone tablets with a single finger. This made me extremely curious. Finger bones are made of water, protein, and a small amount of calcium. They are actually very fragile and can easily break. How could they possibly produce the effect of a high-hardness alloy drill bit? But there is evidence that this ancient martial art has indeed been mastered. After six months of research and thousands of repeated experiments, during which several of my colleagues suffered index finger fractures, we finally discovered the trick. The secret lies in the point of impact and the way the force is applied. The force must be applied precisely to the weakest spot—what the Chinese call the ‘eye’ or ‘acupoint.’ Stones have an ‘eye,’ and so does steel. By channeling force like flowing water into the ‘eye,’ one can guide that ‘ghost-like’ stress. The result of stress concentration is that the target shatters, sometimes even turning to powder instantly.”

“So,” Anjou said, “the enemy who ambushed us at the South Train Station and Six Flags amusement park is a mysterious old martial artist, whose control over force is so refined that if he wanted to, he could destroy the Capitol or the Pentagon with a single strike?”

“So, it’s an old martial artist.” Guderian pondered.

“An old martial artist might be able to break a stone tablet, but the Midgard Serpent was a high-strength steel structure,” Manstein said softly. “The ‘old martial artist’ they’re referring to… is someone else.”

“One of the Four Kings… the King of Earth and Mountains!” the “Solomon of Mathematics” said quietly.

The room fell into a dead silence. The ancient title from a bygone age stunned everyone. Though they already knew of this Dragon King’s existence from ancient records, and though his appearance as an “Eastern martial artist” had an amusing twist, no one could bring themselves to laugh. It was as if a giant shadow loomed over them, as heavy as a mountain.

“He is the master of the earth, with control over the element of ‘earth.’ He is the most adept among dragons at controlling force. The texts say, ‘The waves of rock herald his awakening, and when he fully awakens, mountains turn into chasms.’ He can even pierce the earth’s crust,” Anjou said softly.

“If he has already awakened… why hasn’t he appeared before us directly? With his mastery of ‘force,’ none of us could resist him; we would be at his mercy,” someone asked.

“I don’t know,” Anjou shook his head. “Maybe something else holds him back? Or perhaps it’s not the Dragon King himself who has awakened, but rather his descendant—an esteemed next-generation dragon. Either way, a new dragon must have awakened behind these events. Any dragon is our enemy. If given the chance, they would crush us all… to dust. Instead of waiting helplessly, we must sharpen our swords. This time, we are facing an awakened dragon, whose father might be the great Black Emperor, Nidhogg! This meeting is a war council. When it ends, a top-level dragon alert will be sent across the world. A new war is about to begin.”

The tenured professors rose, placing their hands over their chests as they solemnly intoned, “Good shall prevail over evil, and wherever light reaches, darkness cannot hide.”

After the tenured professors had left, Anjou returned to his desk on the third floor. On the desk was a bone china teapot with two cups, and the Darjeeling tea inside was still warm. A dispirited young man sat at the desk. None of the tenured professors who had just attended the meeting downstairs had realized that a student was present as well, let alone that he had a seat, tea, and refreshments. Even the stern Director of the Discipline Committee, Manstein, had to stand.

“Mingfei, won’t you try the hazelnut muffin?” Anjou asked, sitting opposite him, lighting a cigar, and picking up his cup of tea.

“Not in the mood…” Lu Mingfei sighed. “I say, Principal, is it really okay for me to eavesdrop on such meetings? You know I sometimes have a big mouth. If I accidentally let something slip…”

“This meeting just happened to fall during the ‘Principal’s Afternoon Tea’ slot. You are the student I invited to tea today. I apologize for the meeting interrupting our pleasant tea break; I only asked you to wait here for a bit,” Anjou shrugged.

“But you were discussing classified information.”

“There’s even more classified information. Want to hear it?”

Lu Mingfei covered his ears. “Forget it. Even if I could keep my mouth shut, what if I talk in my sleep and accidentally spill the beans? Besides, this has nothing to do with me… I mean, Principal, if a Dragon King really has awakened, there won’t be another Dragon-slaying Squad for me to join, right? I already risked my life to visit a Dragon King’s home once, and doing this kind of thing is seriously bad for one’s luck… I think I’d need to save up a hundred years’ worth of good karma before going out on another mission like that!”

“But there’s no choice. It’s time to reveal some secrets to you. As our only ‘S-Rank’ student, you need to understand certain things sooner or later.” Anjou put down his teacup and pressed a red button hidden in his desk drawer.