Chapter 115: The Spinning Wheel and the Bearing

To be honest, it was only after encountering this metallic egg that Gawain truly realized how fortunate his current situation was—he hadn’t lost his memory, he had landed in a world still dominated by humans, he possessed an identity that allowed him to blend in (albeit one with some eerie, supernatural undertones), and he had a satellite-like perspective that could prove invaluable. Most importantly, he retained the memories of Gawain Cecil.

That last point was crucial. Because he carried memories from two worlds, he could navigate this reality—where the laws of physics differed drastically from Earth’s—with relative ease. When Earthly experience failed him, he could rely on the knowledge from this world to overcome obstacles.

But Nicholas Egg was in a completely different position. Compared to Gawain, this metal sphere’s fate was at the opposite extreme:

He had lost his memory. He had no applicable knowledge or experience in this world. The moment he arrived, he was seized as a test subject. And most importantly, he had landed as an egg-shaped creature in the territory of terrifying upright apes…

If Gawain’s challenge of farming and advancing technology in a world with alien physics was already hellish, then this egg had smashed through the ceilings of every infernal king, rolled around in the cauldron of the lord of hell, and the pot’s bottom was spiced with numbing durian.

So Gawain couldn’t help but admire the egg’s adaptability and mental resilience: despite such a hopeless situation, it remained calm and alive—and even became a great comic foil. Maybe metal creatures just have tougher nerves?

“Hey, hey, why’d you suddenly go quiet?” Nicholas Egg’s voice pulled Gawain out of his thoughts. The metallic sphere floated in circles around him. “I wanted to hear your advice. What do you think I could do? Honestly, I’m really itching to find something to do right now…”

Gawain immediately began to think seriously. In fact, he had been pondering this even before today: to the Gondor mages, this strange metal ball was probably just experimental material, but to Gawain, it was a potential high-tech talent… a ‘ball genius.’ He knew the egg had just awakened from a long slumber and probably needed time to adjust, so he hadn’t rushed it to work. But now that the egg was taking the initiative, Gawain gathered his thoughts and said, “You can control the flow of magic and manipulate metal. Both skills are very useful here, but I don’t yet know the specifics of your magic and metal control, so I can’t assign you tasks just yet.”

“As for controlling magic, I’m not really sure either,” the metal ball replied. “You call that energy ‘magic,’ but in my world, that kind of thing doesn’t even exist. When I affect the flow of magic, I’m actually vibrating my magnetic cells—an organ inside me that generates high-frequency magnetic fields. In my world, when these magnetic cells vibrate, they create a protective shield on my surface. But here, I found the shield disappears, yet I can influence what you call ‘magic’ energy, causing it to temporarily fail…”

Gawain cut in immediately: “You said magnetic fields? So you’re using magnetic fields to affect the flow of magic?”

“Exactly. Even when you use ‘magic’ to talk to me, I’m sensing its fluctuations through my magnetic cells… But it’s a pity—I can sense magic and influence it with magnetic fields, but I can’t cast spells like your ‘mages.’ That female mage… Heddy, she tried to explain mental power and spell models to me, but I didn’t understand a word.”

Gawain ignored the latter part of the sentence. He was completely absorbed by the fact that magnetic fields could influence magic, and he was deeply puzzled. “Are you sure the ‘magnetic field’ you generate is the same as what people here understand as a magnetic field? The same term in two worlds could refer to completely opposite phenomena!”

“That I can confirm,” Nicholas Egg bobbed up and down vigorously, as if mimicking a human nod. “A magnetic field is a magnetic field. Although people here don’t seem to have the concept of magnetic fields—they only know magnetic force, like how natural magnets attract iron. But I’ve checked: the magnetic field generated by my magnetic cells is the same as the natural magnets here… What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Gawain said with a wry smile, spreading his hands. “I’ve done plenty of experiments with magnetic fields and never found they could affect magic flow. Maybe the magnetic fields I used weren’t strong enough?”

He left out the part about his failed attempts to generate electricity from magnetism…

“Strength? I don’t think that matters much. The magnetic field from my magnetic cells isn’t strong,” the metal ball said, swaying. “Maybe it’s the frequency. You didn’t use high-frequency magnetic fields, did you? I remember a thousand years ago, those ‘mages’ tried scanning me with oscillating magnetic fields—how high was the frequency? A few million oscillations per second? That was apparently the highest frequency they could produce, but it wasn’t even a tenth of my magnetic cells’ frequency. Why don’t you try to increase the frequency of your magnetic fields?”

Gawain’s forehead twitched. In this medieval, technologically stagnant place, where was he supposed to get a high-frequency magnetic field generator in the tens of millions of hertz?

Nicholas Egg was probably the only high-frequency source in this world capable of producing such fields!

Knowing he couldn’t create the right experimental conditions right now, Gawain silently filed this away in his mind. He was about to ask about the egg’s metal manipulation abilities when suddenly the door to the brick kiln factory was pushed open. A scatterbrained girl—fireball launcher… iron head… Rebecca—came rushing over in a whirlwind.

“Ancestor! Ancestor!” the viscountess shouted excitedly as she ran. “Come quickly! Follow me!”

Seeing her so excited, Gawain’s first instinct was to step aside—he feared this scatterbrain might suddenly lose it and hurl seventy or eighty fireballs at his face…

When Rebecca finally caught her breath in front of him, Gawain calmly asked, “So, did you finally blow up Heddy’s lab with a single fireball?”

“Ah… what?!” Rebecca was startled by his words, then waved her hands frantically. “No, no! I was very careful—I’m telling you, the magic energy engine you proposed has been assembled on our side!”

Gawain’s previously calm expression instantly shifted to one of shock and delight.

“It’s finished?! Have you tested it?”

“Not yet,” Rebecca said, waving her hands. “We’re waiting for you to come and test it! But Aunt Heddy has already tested all the components. Everything matches the design and meets the expected performance. It should be fine…”

“Enough talk, let’s go,” Gawain couldn’t contain his excitement and grabbed Rebecca, heading out of the brick kiln factory. Halfway there, he remembered the egg and called back, “You’re coming too! Come see the amazing thing we designed!”

No one would have guessed that the “assembly workshop” for the first-generation magic energy engine was so rudimentary.

It was just a wooden shed next to the Cecil Steelworks. Apart from a few soldiers guarding it, it looked no different from other sheds. There was nothing inside to suggest high technology or advanced magic: except for the most precise runic parts completed in Heddy’s lab, all the engine’s components were hammered into shape by blacksmiths and runic craftsmen. There were no machine tools or precision molds. Rebecca and Heddy led the craftsmen through every painstaking step using the most primitive methods.

If it weren’t for the magical assistance in this world—Heddy’s flame and plastic energy spells providing significant help—the final assembly and welding of the prototype would have been a nightmare.

No matter the world, the birth of anything is never easy.

In the center of the “assembly workshop” lay a large rough burlap cloth covering an object less than two meters tall. Its shape was strange. Gawain could barely make out a large bulge beneath the cloth that should be the flywheel, but the machine’s true form remained hidden.

Old blacksmith Hammer and Heddy stood beside the prototype, accompanied by several others—some were Hammer’s apprentices, and two were newly arrived runic craftsmen from the capital.

“Rebecca insisted on running here herself to find you,” Heddy apologized to Gawain with a nod. “She’s a bit reckless.”

“She wanted to tell me the good news in person. I understand,” Gawain took a deep breath and looked at the machine. “Uncover it. Let me see.”

Heddy waved her hand, and a translucent plastic-energy hand appeared in the air, pulling the cloth away.

Beneath was a bizarre machine.

It vaguely resembled a distant relative of Earth’s machines, with a massive flywheel connected to rods, cranks, and a crankshaft. But it was unlike any power machine Gawain remembered from Earth: it had no cylinders. Instead, at the machine’s center was a “repulsion mechanism” composed of sliding rails, pistons, and a base. The piston was a square iron block with four sliding rails passing through its corners, each end fixed to a base. On the side facing the piston, faintly glowing magic circles shimmered. At the edges of the two repulsion magic arrays were extending runes. A long metal plate connected the two repulsion arrays, with a runic trigger structure linked to one of the arrays. This metal plate was connected via rods and a toggle mechanism to the flywheel’s crankshaft.

Each time the crankshaft rotated half a turn, the runic trigger was toggled, connecting the corresponding runic array. When the crankshaft rotated the other half turn, the trigger left that array and connected to the opposite one, activating the repulsion mechanism on the other side…

Besides the runic trigger that switched the repulsion direction, another runic trigger controlled the “total energy” of the two repulsion arrays. It was also controlled by rods, with the control lever located on the machine’s side.

This special repulsion mechanism eliminated the need for cylinders, thus bypassing the highest precision requirement: mechanical precision. Instead, it demanded extremely precise magic runes—which happened to be a specialty of this world.

Heddy stared at the magic energy engine, lost in thought. It looked and worked unlike any magical artifact in this world. Even though she had helped build it, she couldn’t help but be a little dazed. But she quickly regained her composure and looked at Gawain. “Ancestor, please pull the lever.”

This place, on the edge of the Cecil Steelworks, was perfect for the engine to receive energy from the magic network. Although it lacked the “amplifier plates” in the steelworks’ main yard to boost energy transmission efficiency, the energy here was sufficient for a low-power prototype.

Gawain shook his head. “This is something we designed together. You two, come with me.”

Heddy looked a bit hesitant, but Rebecca didn’t hesitate at all. Her curiosity had completely taken over. With Gawain’s permission, she dashed over to the machine and waved excitedly. “Aunt Heddy! Come quick!”

Heddy smiled, setting aside her doubts, and joined Gawain by the machine.

The three of them placed their hands together on the handle controlling the total energy connection. Gawain counted down from three, and on the final count, they all pressed down hard on the lever.

The magical circuits instantly connected. The repulsion mechanism at the engine’s core lit up, and as one of the magic circles glowed, the rough, sturdy “iron piston” began to move slowly before their eyes.

At first, it moved cautiously, as if struggling to turn the heavy flywheel. But once the flywheel started spinning, the piston shot swiftly to the far end of the repulsion mechanism. The rune trigger for switching activated in sync—the first glowing magic circle dimmed, while another repulsion array flared to life almost immediately.

The flywheel completed a full rotation, then spun faster and faster—faster and faster still. The entire machine roared and shook violently, but it was undeniably up and running!

(End of chapter)