Chapter 101: The Silly Little Deer Strikes Again!

After realizing that boiling water couldn’t generate enough steam power, Gawain gave up on building a classic Earth-style steam engine.

But that didn’t mean he abandoned his goal of creating a universal, reliable, and simple power machine.

He still remembered how, back in his home world, industrial mass production had swept away all inefficient methods—including handcraft workshops—with unstoppable force. The roaring machines had pulled human civilization up from the soil and propelled it into the space age. In factories, raw materials flowed like rivers into workshops, and at the end of the machine clusters, tons upon tons of products poured out. The power of machines could completely transform how a society operated—they could split mountains and fill seas, and they were stronger, more precise, and more efficient than any single human, never tiring. These traits, surpassing natural human limits, were exactly what defined humanity’s true strength.

That strength was the power to think and create.

Of course, Gawain was well aware of the downsides of industrial production—pollution, the strain on natural resources caused by excessive efficiency—but these problems were solvable. Survival was non-negotiable. It was like curing a disease: you wouldn’t refuse to be born just to avoid getting sick.

So whether it was to survive natural and man-made disasters like the magical storms, to live more comfortably in this backward world, or to uncover the truth of this world, Gawain had to advance the technology tree. And to light up that tree, the most fundamental problem to solve was power.

Steam propulsion was a dead end, but many of the macro-level rules of this world still applied: gears worked, levers worked, waterwheels worked. Thanks to magic, many technologies that on Earth required slow, incremental development could here leap forward—like magically refined high-quality steel, or alloys and crystals with extraordinary properties unlike anything on Earth. The problem was, these materials hadn’t yet been fully exploited in this world.

Or rather, the locals had found uses for them along their own technological paths—after all, they weren’t fools—but due to their worldview, they never considered alternative ways to use these materials.

Gawain looked at the cylinder structure on his blueprint. He had already crossed it out. Now he needed to find a substitute to replace steam as the power source for the whole device.

He still thought in terms of expansion doing work, or high-pressure gas flow doing work—but where would these high-temperature, high-pressure “power sources” come from?

He had once considered the Rebecca Crystals—after all, an explosion is essentially a form of expansion. If harnessed properly, the force of an explosion could be a power source. Earth’s internal combustion engines were essentially continuous “controlled explosions” inside cylinders. So could the explosions caused by Rebecca Crystals be controlled and directed to provide propulsion?

But after understanding the principles behind those crystal explosions, he had to abandon the idea.

The magical explosions of Rebecca Crystals were fundamentally different from Earth’s gunpowder. The two “explosions” were completely distinct processes.

The explosion from a Rebecca Crystal was essentially a “spell.” The magic circle’s power activated the energy inside the crystal, creating an autonomous casting process, and the spell effect was the explosion itself. So before any shockwave or expansion occurred, the crystal first produced a spell effect. If you put such a crystal inside a cylinder and triggered the detonation circle, what would happen?

The cylinder would explode as an alchemical artifact.

Of course, Gawain could make the cylinder extremely sturdy and thick—so thick that even if filled with crystals, it wouldn’t burst. Would the explosive magic inside then produce usable thrust?

No. It would simply blow apart the more fragile connecting rods, pistons, and other components, which would be within the spell’s effect range and couldn’t survive.

What if all those parts were made incredibly strong, so they wouldn’t be destroyed, and only the crystal participated in the magic reaction?

Well, then maybe the device could work—but it would be enormous. The explosion-proof outer shell would have to exceed the spell’s effect radius, which depending on the crystal’s power, could mean a sphere several meters to tens of meters in radius, with no room for shrinkage. If the shell shrank even a little, parts of it would be inside the explosion’s range, and if an operator stood nearby, they’d be blown up—humans being among the best magical conduits.

Even if no one was nearby, the device itself would be trapped in a continuous explosion, detonating everything around it.

That was completely unusable!

Because explosions in this world were so unique, Gawain also gave up on the idea of using Rebecca Crystals to make guns—at least, he abandoned the idea of using these crystals as propellants. He couldn’t stuff them into a gun barrel as a charge, because the spell effect would cause an explosion inside the magic circle’s range. The gun might survive, but the shooter and anyone nearby would be blown up.

So what could he use to do work?

Steam was out, explosions were out, and fuel oil… he hadn’t heard of anything like petroleum existing in this world.

Plus, he had to consider the current level of manufacturing precision. Even if he designed a working prototype, the blacksmiths might not be able to forge the right parts.

But honestly, that wasn’t his biggest worry. He still remembered the mithril safe he found in the old mansion in the capital. The complex magical locks on that safe were essentially very precise mechanisms, and such mechanisms weren’t made by ordinary blacksmiths but by rune craftsmen—artisans who specialized in magical items and held a higher status than blacksmiths.

Rune craftsmen were like advanced blacksmiths or carpenters. They couldn’t cast spells themselves but had some knowledge of magic and were usually trained by mages to make magical tools.

Their craftsmanship was exquisite, able to create far more precise and complex items than ordinary ironworks, and they knew how to safely work with magical materials.

Though rune craftsmen were few and their work expensive (mainly due to the cost of magical materials), if they could help him build a prototype, it would be worth it.

Among the hundred technicians who came from the capital, there were rune craftsmen…

As Gawain pondered this, two familiar presences appeared in his senses. The tent’s flap was lifted, and Rebecca and Hetty walked in together.

“Ancestor, you wanted to see us?” they said almost in unison.

“Yes,” Gawain said without wasting time, pushing the blueprints forward. “Bring a chair and sit here. Take a look at these.”

Rebecca eagerly ran off to grab a big chair, while Hetty casually summoned a translucent force hand to lift a chair from the corner and float it over—leaving Rebecca staring in surprise.

But soon, the little iron-headed girl’s brief disappointment was replaced by fascination with the blueprints.

“What’s this?” Rebecca’s eyes sparkled. “So many wheels and connecting rods… is it a waterwheel too?”

“No,” Gawain explained casually, “it’s a machine… that can generate power. My ideas are limited, so I want to hear your thoughts. Imagine a machine powered by the most basic magical units, producing stable, reliable power—like turning wheels continuously or driving a hammer up and down. Look at these connecting rods and wheels, and this structure—it’s called a crankshaft. These parts convert linear reciprocating motion into rotational motion, and vice versa…”

Gawain patiently explained his ideas. Hetty listened thoughtfully, while Rebecca’s eyes shone brightly—she was deeply interested in these wild designs!

Machines powered by magic—that concept wasn’t new. This world, with its supernatural forces, had many natural advantages and many things Gawain considered “ahead of their time,” like magical puppets made by mages, automatic gates in mountain vaults activated by secret keys, and the magical locks in the capital that could identify users. These were all applications of magical mechanisms, many of which could be called “black tech.”

But Rebecca instinctively felt that Gawain’s “magical power machine” was something entirely different.

Most of its structure was straightforward mechanical parts that didn’t require magic.

Its function and purpose were simple: to provide power for the next level of machinery.

It was standardized, clear-cut, and discarded all the “freehand” elements craftsmen usually added, replaced instead by precise numerical indicators like magical rules. It aimed to achieve its purpose in the most reasonable and concise way, unlike traditional rune craftsmen or mages who decorated their magical items with elaborate patterns, hiding the truly useful runes within complex encrypted designs, afraid others might see and understand them.

Rebecca thought hard for a long time, and finally a word Gawain often said to her came to mind: universality.

Like the first magic network, this device was also “universal.”

It wasn’t designed as a treasure or artwork, but like the Rebecca Crystals made in the kiln district—it was meant to be mass-produced, sturdy, and reliable.

After Gawain finished explaining, he pointed to the crossed-out cylinder structure. “Now the only missing piece is this: it needs an initial power source to move the piston. I once thought of using expanding gas, so I designed this sealed cylinder. But don’t be limited by my thinking—magically speaking, what kind of spell do you think could create a continuous, cyclical pushing force as long as it has energy?”

Rebecca grabbed her chair, rocking back and forth. “What if we carve a tiny hurricane magic circle inside? Blow really hard?”

Hetty frowned, thinking seriously. “Not very practical. A hurricane circle is too complex, and in a closed space, the airflow it can generate is limited…”

As she spoke, she casually formed a translucent force hand beside her, then dismissed the magic. “Using a force hand to push inside would be simple, but unfortunately, that’s a very special spell with no corresponding magic circle. Also… having a force hand pushing back and forth inside a machine feels weird.”

“A force hand, huh…” Rebecca rolled her eyes, then suddenly seemed to have an idea. “Right, it doesn’t have to use airflow… maybe it doesn’t even need this thing called a ‘cylinder’?”

Seeing Rebecca’s eyes light up more and more, Gawain couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy: the silly little deer was about to come through again!?

Hetty grew curious too. “What are you thinking?”

Rebecca excitedly gestured. “Auntie, remember that spell I could never learn back then…”

Hetty: “Besides Fireball, which spell did you ever learn?”

“No, the one at the cantrip level—you thought even if I was dumb, I’d definitely learn it,” Rebecca waved her hands hard. “Later I secretly drew the runes on my gloves to pretend I could cast it, but you and Dad caught me and gave me a good scolding…”

Gawain: “…”

Did she really have to be this cheerful while talking about it?!

And Heddy clearly remembered the “trick” Rebecca had been referring to: “The repulsion trick?”

(End of chapter)