When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

Chapter 1223 - 1150: Absurd Leonardo

"Bang——"The processing room of the Leonardo Research Institute was kicked open, flooding in were Leonardo and his five students and assistants.

The previously bustling Leonardo laboratory now only had five of the seven students remaining.

However, most of them had bloodshot eyes, surely they hadn't slept well last night.

After all, Kapen's betrayal was something none of them had foreseen.

Kapen, the senior brother who was always jovially playing with star cards, neglecting his duties, almost failing his thesis, and relying on cozying up to the advisor, had actually betrayed them.

Yet, after hearing the whole story from their mentor, they were still shocked.

"Professor, how dare you take on this task?" Latom's face turned pale.

In the processing room, the warm flicker of the fluorite lamp illuminated the brass disc on the table.

The five students gathered around the brass disc, licking their dry and parched lips, unable to speak.

Only the youngest, Kusvania, holding sandpaper, her fingers still trembling slightly: "Teacher, making a scale disc in a morning? And engraving fifty ticks, each with errors…"

"That's simply impossible! Even using an optical glass magnifier, it's our first time using it. If our hand shakes halfway, the whole scale disc would be ruined!"

"We tried engraving before, remember? We erred three times on ten ticks, now for such a large disc..."

Leonardo either didn't hear or deliberately ignored the murmurs of the students.

He grabbed the brass disc and placed it under the optical magnifier.

In the lens, the scratches on the surface of the brass disc were clearly visible. He rubbed it with his fingertip, which was immediately coated in a layer of copper dust.

"First, grind the disc, then face processing, finally calibrate, divide, and engrave.

It is now nine, and we must grind the disc to the proper state and calibrate the optical lens by nine thirty.

Start face processing at nine thirty, begin engraving at ten, and we must finish by twelve thirty.

Tom, you handle the grinding, I'll take care of the face processing.

Kusvania, you're meticulous, you adjust the optical lens, clean the lens thoroughly, don't let moisture affect the view."

His voice was flat, no different from the usual, yet his students, who knew him well, caught the unusual implication.

"Listen, this is different from before; we have no room for errors, not more than once.

Otherwise, we won't have enough time, do you understand?"

"Understood." At this point, there was nothing more for the students and assistants to say or do.

As everyone began to get busy, Leonardo picked up an alarm clock nearby—

This little gadget was also made by Kapen, who enjoyed making small toys with tricks.

He took a deep breath, wound the alarm for fifteen minutes, and went outside.

"If I'm not awake in ten minutes, come shout for me immediately!"

Leonardo was a sage of mechanics, not an iron man, nor did he have any mechanical implants, and still required sleep.

Especially since he was about to undertake an extremely meticulous task.

In this era, mechanical engineers, especially the foremost ones, were all-rounders.

Not only designing, but they also had to assemble, even buff metal work, and even arrange funding themselves.

Leonardo prepared to personally complete the division and engraving, but he still needed to control the key steps of this work himself.

So, having slept less than fifteen minutes, he returned to the processing room again.

"Teacher, I have finished the grinding."

"Good." He confirmed the student's work and glanced at the clock, finding it was only nine twenty, "I'll handle the face processing."

The brass disc was clamped within the laboratory lathe's three-jaw chuck, and as the spring machine buzzed, the spindle began to rotate at a speed of 30 revolutions per minute.

Leonardo's requirement for the flatness error of the scale disc was controlled between 0.1 and 0.3 millimeters.

This task was originally meant for a Dwarf, relying on tactile sense, cutting patterns, and experience to determine.

This unique tactile sense was an innate gift of the Dwarves, which humans could hardly learn.

Yet at this moment, it was entirely replaced by the optical lens.

As the metal chips fell bit by bit, drops of Leonardo's sweat followed.

"Kusvania, observe from the side!"

With a slender hand holding the heavy optical lens, Kusvania struggled to observe, "Not yet, not yet... enough!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Latom immediately pulled the lever, and the steel knife was lifted.

Leonardo personally looked through the optical lens: "Hmm, just right, the error is less than 0.1 millimeters."

Even though he was already prepared, witnessing the ability of the optical lens still astonished Leonardo.

As a mechanical scholar, Leonardo knew best that when power is massive, any small flaw can cause catastrophic results.

For instance, an axle with a cylinder error exceeding 0.01 millimeters can cause a locomotive to break, overturn, and derail.

These were issues encountered previously.

As machines become more complex, the demand for machining precision grows correspondingly higher.

Leonardo had realized that the human eye has its limits, so why remain human?

He used glass eyes.

Falan glass contained bubbles and iron impurities internally, with a transmittance of only 50% to 60%, and would absorb some light leading to blurry scale lines.

However, the glass technology of the Holy Alliance essentially addressed this issue.

Unlike Falan, the Holy Alliance's research on techniques isn't confined to Artisans.

Even the lofty scholars, engineers, and all kinds of wizard scholars and technical Priests had to be involved.

In Falan, it was all done personally, even self-financing and borrowing funds were needed.

But the Holy Alliance is led by the state, with the nation desperately pouring money into the effort. How can the power of an individual compare to that of a country?

Thus, the issue of glass transparency which Falan struggled with for over a decade was resolved by the Holy Alliance in just fourteen or fifteen years.

Under the optical microscope, the previously invisible errors to the naked eye finally became apparent!

Watching the students place the dial on the three-jaw chuck, Leonardo picked up the draft paper: "Have the calculations been done? No mistakes?"

"No mistakes."

"Good, let's start marking."

Soon, with the help of the optical microscope, each calibration point was marked. Only the final scoring stage was left.

"Kusvania, report the angle," Leonardo said softly.

"First mark, 0 degrees, line up with the edge of the copper plate," Kusvania said, her eyes fixed on the baseline of the copper plate.

As the cutting knife descended, the only sound remaining in the workshop was the humming of the lathe's spring machine.

Leonardo's breathing slowed significantly, his eyes glued to the image within the optical lens.

The knife scratched a fine line on the copper plate, and with each millimeter of progress, he paused, checking through the lens for deviation.

As if someone had gripped their throats, no one dared to speak.

If there was a slight error in the engraving, all the previous work would have to be redone, and time would run out completely.

The teacher told them that they had only one chance to make a mistake, but he himself had none.

Time slipped away bit by bit.

As it neared eleven o'clock, Leonardo's previously steady hand suddenly faltered.

"Damn!" Latom couldn't help but shout.

But Leonardo didn't panic. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small polishing stone, dipped it in some machine oil, and gently polished away the excess mark.

The polishing stone made a slight "zzzz" sound on the copper plate, and sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down his face onto the lathe, which he quickly wiped away.

"It's alright, the error is within the acceptable range," he said, his tone still steady.

Yet the students saw that his fingers holding the polishing stone were slightly pale.

The room was filled only with the tapping sound of the cutting knife.

"Knock, knock, knock,"

As the sound of the last engraving knife stopped, the clock on the wall froze at 11:50.

Leonardo straightened up, staggering a little, fortunately Kusvania held him steady.

He waved his hand, indicating that he was fine, then placed the copper plate under the optical magnifier.

Fifty scale marks, neatly arranged like tree rings, each spaced precisely.

Even the most demanding Dwarf Artisans might find it impossible to shake their heads at it.

"Is... is it done?" Toram rubbed his eyes, unable to believe it.

Leonardo glanced outside; the sunlight had climbed to the workshop's eaves.

He picked up the copper plate, his fingertips lightly brushing over the scale lines, his voice carrying a husky laugh: "Not yet done. The dial is finished, but the lathe still needs assembly."

The students' newfound joy was instantly doused.

Toram frowned: "Teacher, assemble the lathe now? The lead screws and sliding carriage haven't been calibrated yet; if we assemble them wrong, all previous efforts will be wasted!"

"There's no more time left," Leonardo had already walked to the lathe as the sound of carriages came from outside the workshop.

It was the ry Court Barracks delivering the lead screw and sliding carriage, wrapped in coarse burlap.

He tore open the burlap, revealing the polished lead screw, the evenly-threaded surface was crafted overnight by Gray Furnace Town's finest blacksmiths.

"Ella, you and Toram secure the lead screw... Bakar, you adjust the sliding carriage, align the carriage slot with the lead screw thread... The other two, go dismantle the spare lathe's gears, we need two transmission gears."

As Leonardo spoke, he took off his jacket.

His eyes suddenly lost their fatigue and were filled with an almost fanatical focus.

As if forgetting hunger, forgetting exhaustion, even forgetting Kapen's betrayal.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the workshop's window, shining on Leonardo's back.

Sitting beside the lathe, he held a small file, slowly assembling, polishing, and grinding.

The sharp sound of the file against metal was piercing, yet he seemed to ignore it, his eyes fixed on the contact point between the slot and the lead screw.

Occasionally, students would pass him bread and water, which he would only take a bite and sip, never taking his eyes off the lathe.

As dusk fell, more fluorescent lamps were lit in the workshop, and light filled the machining room as if it were daylight.

As the church's midnight bells rang throughout the town, Leonardo finally straightened up.

Standing there for a full ten seconds, he then pressed the lathe's switch.

The spring machine drove the lead screw, and the sliding carriage slowly moved along it.

With a light "click," the carriage stopped at its preset position.

The entire workshop fell silent instantly, with even the buzzing of the spring machine disappearing.

"Toram, bring over a piece of iron," Leonardo's voice seemed to waver slightly as he leaned against the edge of this new-style lathe to prevent himself from collapsing.

Toram hurriedly brought over a piece of wrought iron, and Leonardo adjusted the carriage angle, then pulled the lever again.

The crisp, pleasant sound of the carriage cutting through iron shavings quickly resulted in a cylindrical iron billet.

He handed the billet to Ella: "Check it under the optical lens."

Kusvania, holding the billet, walked over to the optical lens.

When the lens focused on the billet, she gasped, her voice trembling: "Error... error is invisible to the naked eye!"

Leonardo collapsed into a chair, struggling to ask: "What time is it now?"

"Twelve o' five..."