Chapter Sixty-Three: The Circuit of Magic

The transplantation of magical circuits is not merely a physical operation. In truth, a magical circuit is an organ that links the body and the soul. It is precisely because of this that, although Touko Aozaki can replace her body an infinite number of times, she is unable to add even a single magical circuit.

But the world of Babel is different. This world, which has amassed the knowledge of countless other worlds and developed over tens of thousands of years, has already perfected the technology to transplant magical circuits flawlessly.

Glass vessels inscribed with intricate runes were pushed into the operating room, and at a glance, there were over a hundred of them. Feng Xue knew that each vessel contained a sealed magical circuit.

Yet the transplantation process was nothing like he had imagined. Instead, a doctor wearing gloves marked with a flaming skull emblem pushed toward Feng Xue’s body, and eight points of light—one large and seven small—flew out from around him. These converged with a primordial spirit that had appeared from nowhere. Feng Xue felt a sudden darkness before his eyes, and when he regained consciousness, he seemed weightless, floating in midair, while below him lay a body identical to his own.

“So this is what it’s like to have an out-of-body experience?” Feng Xue thought to himself. In fact, he couldn’t speak at the moment. Although he possessed spiritual power, he did not have the organ known as the “binding chain” that the native inhabitants of the Shinigami world possessed. Therefore, he was unable to generate spiritual pressure on his own and thus could not increase the density of his spiritual form (spiritual pressure and spiritual power are similar, but not the same).

At this moment, his soul could only float in the air like a wandering ghost.

It was only now that Feng Xue remembered where that familiar flaming skull emblem came from—it was none other than the tool used in the Shinigami world to draw out the soul.

Suddenly, Feng Xue understood the true nature of those eight points of light. The large one, naturally, was his life soul; the seven smaller ones were the legendary Seven Spirits.

Although his three souls and seven spirits were united at this moment, it did not mean that Feng Xue’s AT Field had reached perfection, for this state could not truly be called fusion. At best, it was aggregation—a spontaneous protective measure when the soul and spirit are separated from the flesh.

Conceptually, while the seven spirits are collectively referred to with the three souls as the “soul and spirit,” their essence is more aligned with the body’s power and can be seen as a bridge between the flesh and the mind.

When the life soul separates from the body, in order to prevent the “lifespan” it carries from rapidly depleting, the seven spirits temporarily form a shell to protect the three souls within. But during this period, the power of the seven spirits is continuously consumed. Once this power is exhausted, not only will the life soul be lost, but the seven spirits will also dissipate. As the seven spirits are derived from the body’s strength, their depletion means the decay of the body, and thus, death. Only by returning to the body before this power runs out can the seven spirits gradually recover through the nourishment of the flesh.

In essence, although Feng Xue’s three souls and seven spirits were gathered, they were still a loose collection. The primordial spirit, formed by the life soul and the two celestial souls, remained mutually estranged.

Only if Feng Xue could one day, through his own power, draw the primordial spirit into his body, merge it with his life soul, and connect it with the seven spirits—achieving a seamless unity—could he attain the true immortality of the soul.

As these thoughts flashed through Feng Xue’s mind, the doctors had already begun their preparations.

“Soul wavelength measurement begins—magical circuit synchronization initiated!” At the doctor’s command, two nurses began to open the containers one by one, pouring the barely tangible essence within—along with the unknown fluids—into a massive instrument. Then, they drew out two strange wires from the device and connected them to Feng Xue’s soul.

In an instant, Feng Xue felt an indescribable ripple sweep over him, traveling along the wires into the machine. From that moment, he lost all ability to move.

The keen intuition granted by imaginary number concepts remained with his soul, allowing him to sense some kind of fluctuation from the instrument, one that was gradually synchronizing with his soul’s wavelength.

“The first one!” The nurse monitoring the device used rune-engraved tweezers to lift a magical circuit—existing somewhere between reality and illusion—from the top of the container, placed it on a similarly inscribed tray, and handed it to the doctor.

A magical circuit is not a physical object, nor is it entirely immaterial. It is a peculiar organ bridging mind and body. The magical circuit transplantation offered by the Academy of Transcenders does not involve harvesting circuits from other characters, but rather cultivating original circuits through soul engineering. This means that as long as the circuit is synchronized before implantation, there will be no rejection from the host. However, such circuits cannot be used as quickly as those taken from others; instead, they must be gradually developed by the recipient.

As the doctor implanted the circuit into Feng Xue’s soul, another team of doctors began a different task—the transplantation of the magical crest.

The magical crest is a work of engineering magic, embodying the legacy of an entire family. Each successor records all their research into the magical circuit, passing it on to the next generation upon or after death, thereby accumulating knowledge over time.

But unlike magical circuits, the crest is fully embedded in the physical body, which causes considerable complications during transplantation. For example, Rin was often plagued by low fever as a result of inheriting the Tohsaka family crest.

However, such rejection reactions are no more than the side effects of a skin graft or organ transplant—trivial problems for the world of Babel, provided the procedure is done in a sanctioned institution.

If, however, you were to obtain a magical crest in a sub-plane and were unwilling to spend a fortune for a legitimate transplant, you would have to endure the rejection through prolonged synchronization and the miraculous effects of physical cultivation techniques.

Feng Xue, at this moment, had no time to dwell on such matters, for as each magical circuit was implanted into his soul, waves of searing pain crashed over him.

The essence of a magical circuit is akin to that of a nerve, and undergoing this surgery is like having nerve surgery without anesthesia. Moreover, as this was an operation on the soul, the pain could not be resisted by willpower.

No matter how great your tolerance for pain, this agony would reach the very depths of your soul, undiluted—indeed, with the body’s protection stripped away, the soul’s resistance to such torment was even weaker.

Feng Xue was profoundly grateful that the procedure was being done in tandem, for he knew well that the pain from the transplantation of the magical crest would be no less than the impact of the circuit implant on his soul.

For the transplantation of the magical crest is, in essence, akin to slicing open the nerve endings and splicing the magical circuit directly on.