"Space?"
Hearing Lucien's request, a guest judge wearing a crystal monocle echoed instinctively, looking up from the panel.
He scanned the vast hall around them. The Palace of Beauxbatons was renowned for its grandeur, and this particular hall—reserved for significant events—was exceptionally spacious. It could easily accommodate thousands of people.
Yet this competitor, who looked particularly young, was claiming he needed more space?
Meeting the judge's slightly curious gaze, Lucien nodded gently.
"Yes. My alchemical creation is called 'SwiftSpeak'."
He picked up one of the hardbound notebooks and displayed it to the judges.
"Its core function is to enable real-time remote communication between users. It can transmit written text, voice audio, and synchronized visual images."
At the judges' table, several Alchemy Masters straightened their posture, a subtle sign of piqued interest.
"In terms of effective range, within a single county, it guarantees the clear, synchronized transmission of both image and sound. If we expand that scope to a national level, or even attempt cross-border communication..."
"Therefore, to fully demonstrate the capabilities and limits of SwiftSpeak, I was wondering if one of the judges would be willing to assist me by Apparating to a designated location significantly far away? We need to establish a substantial physical distance."
Silence.
Lucien finished his introduction, set the notebook down, and waited for a response.
The judges' table fell into a heavy silence. No one commented or started a discussion immediately.
The sheer potential inherent in this concept—and the matter-of-fact confidence in the boy's tone—seemed to require a moment for them to digest.
It was Nicolas—under the alias "Antoine Faure"—who finally broke the silence.
He didn't ask about complex rune arrays or the principles of magical coupling. Instead, he asked a question that sounded much more grounded:
"Lucien, what is the production cost of your 'SwiftSpeak'? Technically speaking... is it possible to mass-produce it for the general public?"
This question instantly snapped the other judges out of their fixation on technical theory.
Indeed. No matter how outstanding an alchemical creation might be, if it remained an expensive miracle in a laboratory or a toy for the wealthy elite, its significance would ultimately be limited.
Every gaze, now filled with fresh scrutiny and deeper anticipation, locked onto Lucien.
Lucien was well-prepared for this.
In a steady voice, he broke down the core materials, the difficulty of rune replication, and the estimated labor hours. While the figures he provided were still high, they weren't astronomically impossible.
More importantly, he clearly articulated that several key steps had room for optimization and simplification.
"I believe Alchemy shouldn't just be a secret kept in a high tower, nor should it solely be a pursuit of raw power."
Lucien's voice echoed through the hall, carrying a clarity of vision that belied his age.
"It should be the key to improving the lives of all wizards. That is why, when developing SwiftSpeak, I invested significant thought into simplifying the production process and lowering the cost of the base model. Of course, this means the base model has limitations in transmission features—like image resolution and stability over extreme distances. Finding a better balance between cost and performance is the direction I am currently exploring..."
A teenager, standing before top-tier Alchemy Masters, not only presenting an invention that could revolutionize communication but also proposing concepts of "mass adoption," "cost control," and "improving quality of life."
The veteran Alchemists fell into a deeper silence, their hearts stirred.
It wasn't that they didn't understand these concepts. On the contrary, because they had dedicated their lives to this craft, they understood just how difficult—and how precious—this mindset was.
Many magical artifacts created by alchemists had long since integrated into daily wizarding life.
And because of that, they saw more clearly than most just how shockingly fast the Muggle world was developing in the same "daily life" aspects.
Take communication: Wizards still relied on owls flying through the night, while Muggles had invented telephones that connected voices instantly and were even beginning to explore something called the "Internet."
Muggle science and technology seemed to be under a permanent Haste Charm...
Information transmission, travel speed, convenience—breakthroughs seemed to happen every few months, and in just a few years, the lives of ordinary people changed drastically.
But what about the wizarding world?
The popularization of alchemy was simply too slow!
Truly talented young wizards often gravitated toward profound, powerful combat magic, craving personal strength and glory.
Those willing to settle down, endure the loneliness, and study how to make a Lighting Charm more energy-efficient, a Preservation Charm last longer, or communication more convenient... were few and far between.
And yet, Alchemy itself had near-draconian requirements for a wizard's talent, patience, and creativity.
For these elders who had immersed themselves in Alchemy for decades or even centuries, powerful and arcane magic certainly held its allure.
But deep down, they firmly believed that the thing that could truly bring revolution to the magical world—the thing that could bring happiness to the average wizard—was Alchemy!