The geometric multiplication engaged.
Not forty-nine times. Not one hundred ninety-six times. The actual coefficient — determined by synchronization quality, bridge stability, and the particular variable of fourteen people who'd been training together for seventy-two hours producing an efficiency rate that exceeded the ten percent projection —
Nihil calculated.
"Three hundred and twelve times baseline," the sword said. His voice was — I'd never heard this tone from him. Awe. The particular awe of a consciousness that had designed the original system and was watching it operate at a level he'd theorized but never believed would be achieved. "Three hundred and twelve. That's — the dual-concert is producing output equivalent to a team of Sovereign-rank cultivators."
Three hundred and twelve. Not the theoretical maximum of 2,401. But more than enough.
More than enough for anything.
The apex construct charged.
