Chapter 116: The Master of Metal

Old blacksmith Hammel’s eyes widened in shock and bewilderment as he stared at the strange machine spinning rapidly before him.

At its core glowed a radiant magical light. A repulsion mechanism—crudely described—was oscillating back and forth, driven by a simple magic circle and a series of mechanical components. The heavy flywheel, connected by rods and a crankshaft, was spinning faster than any windmill, waterwheel, or human-powered crank he had ever seen. Hammel knew all too well how heavy that iron wheel was—once set in motion, it could easily shatter a person’s bones. Yet here it was, turning effortlessly.

Standing beside him were two rune craftsmen, who saw even more—and thought even deeper.

These craftsmen were servants trained by mages. If rune masters were the “circuit engineers” who designed the magic array blueprints, then rune craftsmen were the “mechanical engineers” responsible for building the mechanical parts of magical devices. Naturally, they knew far more about this than ordinary blacksmiths.

They regularly crafted all sorts of mechanisms and magical tools, so repulsion arrays—basic as they were—were nothing new. But none of them had ever imagined that such a simple, almost trivial trick could produce such a miraculous effect. With just a well-designed mechanical structure, a repulsion array—usually only used to open trapdoors or drop rocks—could be made to cycle automatically. Though the entire magic engine was powered by magical energy, its inner workings were fundamentally different from any magical device they’d seen before.

In this magic engine, mana was no longer the sole or absolute force. It wasn’t used crudely; instead, it was transformed, amplified, and converted into something far more… practical.

At first, the rune craftsmen had harbored some resentment about working alongside a group of blacksmiths and apprentices. But upon seeing the finished magic engine, that resentment was replaced by a sudden clarity. They finally understood what the stewardess Hetty had meant when they first arrived in this land and she told them to “cast aside all old ideas and constraints, and submit to the new order of this territory.” Compared to the astonishing new things they had witnessed here, all those old rules and restrictions seemed trivial.

One blacksmith apprentice stared wide-eyed at the continuously running magic engine and muttered, “This is what we made…”

Hammel quickly cut him off. “No, this is the wisdom of the Duke, the Viscount, and Lady Hetty.”

“No,” Gawain interrupted Hammel, “this is what you made. Don’t doubt it. Honor belongs to every person who labored. So everyone who contributed to building the magic engine will not only be rewarded but also honored—their names will be recorded on a plaque affixed to the first-generation magic engine and inscribed in Cecil’s history books.”

The craftsmen and apprentices exchanged glances. Hammel nervously twirled his beard, accidentally pulling out a few strands without noticing. Only when the two rune craftsmen from the capital, who had seen more of the world, bowed and thanked them did the old blacksmith finally snap out of it and hurriedly returned the thanks.

Gawain withdrew his gaze, his face alight with barely contained joy and excitement as he watched the prototype magic engine continue its steady operation.

The noise was deafening. The flywheel’s rotation caused the entire machine to shake violently. Due to slight imperfections in the parts, these issues were unavoidable. Gawain was certain that a significant portion of the engine’s power was lost to friction from these irregular components, and its output and overall lifespan would be compromised. But these were minor details—the most important thing was that, just as he had predicted, the machine was running.

First, solve the question of whether it works. Then worry about how well.

Gawain was almost mesmerized by the primitive machine, but suddenly a flicker of doubt and worry crossed his eyes.

Yet the subtle emotion quickly vanished.

Meanwhile, Hetty had begun testing the machine’s power. She applied pressure slowly to the output shaft using telekinetic hands and gravity magic. After several attempts, she couldn’t help but exclaim in admiration, “This machine is incredibly powerful. I roughly tested it, and at full speed, it can vertically lift an iron block weighing half a ton. And if we add the pulley systems or reduction gears you mentioned earlier, who knows how much more power it could generate? Also, we used relatively cheap rune materials, and the connecting rods are made of ordinary steel, not the stronger purple steel. So there’s huge potential for improvement.”

Rebecca, who didn’t know many useful auxiliary spells and couldn’t just throw a fireball at the machine to test its “health,” scratched her chin and pondered more practical matters. “Ancestor, what do you think this machine can do?”

Gawain smiled at the girl. “What’s your take?”

“Well, it seems perfect for repetitive, labor-intensive tasks. Like powering a mill? Driving the big saw at a lumberyard? It’s strong enough, and you don’t have to worry about wind or water flow!”

“There are plenty of uses,” Gawain said offhandedly. “It can drive waterwheels, haul mining carts, pump water out of mines, power giant hammers for forging steel. With the right molds, it could even press a whole steel plate into armor or other parts—like stamping cookies. It could be used in brick kilns to drive machines that press bricks, instead of needing a dozen serfs to mold them one by one with wooden frames…”

Gawain rattled off what he thought were the most important applications, but the people around him were lost in confusion. They had never conceived of machines replacing manual labor. Even though windmills and watermills existed in this world, they were crude and rudimentary. How could they suddenly imagine all the machines that could be connected to a magic engine?

Hammel, however, brightened at the mention of using machines to power giant forging hammers and directly press steel plates into armor parts. His professional instincts told him this was a bright path forward.

Rebecca’s eyes sparkled the entire time. Every time Gawain mentioned a use, her mind filled with levers, bearings, and gears. Though she couldn’t yet assemble them into working machines, she felt confident that with a little time, she could bring her ancestor’s ideas to life one by one.

But then Hetty frowned, looking troubled. “The problem is, we only have one machine… Building a new magic engine is time-consuming and labor-intensive, and it must be within the magic network’s coverage area to operate. That’s a big issue.”

As she spoke, she pulled a lever to cut the magic engine’s power, and it gradually slowed to a stop. The noise was no joke—while it ran, people had to shout to be heard.

“Laying down the magic network isn’t costly; it’s just basic runes, and the blueprints already exist. But manufacturing the machines is a problem… mainly because handcrafting these parts takes so long,” Gawain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But there’s no way around it—we still have to make them by hand for now.”

Just then, a metallic voice interrupted: “Ahem, I have something to say.”

A gleaming silver sphere—Nicholas Egg—floated slowly over.

Rebecca’s face lit up. “Eggy, you have an idea?!”

“I’m not called Eggy!” Nicholas Egg shot upward two or three meters (if not for the ceiling, he might have gone higher), his voice inside the sphere sounding exasperated. “At least call me Boss Egg!”

Rebecca wasn’t fazed. “Okay, Boss Egg, what’s your plan?”

Nicholas Egg: “…”

“Enough bickering. Tell us your idea,” Gawain cut off the brewing argument, watching the metal sphere slowly settle back down. “I know you’re good at controlling metal. Could it be…”

“Exactly! I finally know what I’m good for here!” Nicholas Egg’s voice was unusually cheerful. As he spoke, the workshop filled with the clinking and clanging of metal. The scrap metal piled in the corners, destined for the furnace, began to levitate and gather around the silver sphere. “I can help you forge!”

As he finished, the floating scraps creaked and groaned as if under immense pressure. They slowly deformed, and Gawain quickly realized this wasn’t just external force—some of the metal was visibly melting. They weren’t just being squeezed; they were being forged!

Within minutes, the scraps transformed into a variety of intricately structured parts and strange little gadgets, even lifelike metal sculptures of everyone present.

The workshop fell completely silent.

Nicholas Egg seemed very pleased with his performance. He proudly placed the parts on the floor, then handed the metal sculptures to each person. “How’s that? Much more efficient, right?”

Hammel took his sculpture, but his hands trembled slightly. Such immense power… would blacksmiths even be needed in the territory anymore?

Just as the lord had said last time—blacksmiths swinging hammers might soon be obsolete? So soon?

The rune craftsmen shared the same anxious thoughts. Even Hetty and Rebecca, though amazed, worried that with this sphere around, all metalworkers in the territory might lose their jobs…

Only Gawain, though shocked by Nicholas Egg’s rapid metal shaping, immediately focused on something else—

He stared at the lifelike metal sculpture in his hand, noting the precisely scaled eyebrows and hair. Then he looked up sharply at Nicholas Egg. “What’s your precision level?”

(End of chapter)