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They approached slowly, yet their sheer magnitude filled the sky, making us feel small before such a sight.

The sound of the wind carried the faint creaking of ropes and the occasional crackle of flas keeping the balloons aloft.

—Are those our ans of transport? soone whispered near , their tone heavy with reverence.

Oliver, a little ahead, simply nodded, unable to take his eyes off the spectacle.

—Yes, and they are not simple airships.

—They are magical balloons, equipped with a decent level of artillery.

—I’ve heard that mages use them for transport and low-level attacks.

As the imnse balloons drew closer, the one belonging to the Sunspire Tower began to stand out among the others.

Its golden glow was dazzling.

I couldn’t contain my curiosity and imdiately issued a ntal command to the biochip.

"Biochip, analyze the Sunspire Tower balloon. I want a detailed analysis of its structure and functionality."

["Beep!"]

["Command received."]

["Initiating scan..."]

My field of vision was overtaken by a translucent hologram forming in the air.

The three-dinsional image of the balloon materialized within seconds as the biochip decoded every technical detail.

["Balloon Structure"]

The hologram zood in on the balloon’s outer surface, highlighting the fabric that enveloped it.

["Material identified."]

["Tungsten fiber."]

["Composition: 80% organic fabric, 20% reinforced filants for heat and impact resistance."]

["High durability against physical attacks and weather conditions."]

The analysis then focused on the upper valves, which regulated the release of hot air to control altitude.

Each valve was adorned with a polished bronze chanism, decorated with visible gears pulsing with a faint blue energy.

["Propulsion System"]

Below the balloon, the hologram revealed a steampunk engine attached to the rear of the main basket.

It was a complex assembly of pistons, gears, and copper pipes, periodically releasing steam.

["Propulsion identified."]

["Type III steam engine."]

["Energy source: Steam energy collapse. Efficient for maintaining stability and maneuverability even in light to moderate storms."]

The engine was powered by a reactor located at the machine’s core.

The hologram zood in on the core, revealing its intense glow and the constant flow of steam energy into the connected pipes.

["Controls"]

["Control systems"]

["Based on simple physics. Primary chanics: Internal pressure control and manual adjustnt of the rear rudder for direction."]

There was a rudder positioned at the rear of the balloon’s basket, operated by a cable system that ran through pulleys along the balloon. Small adjustnts could be made for greater precision.

["Analysis Complete!"]

When the analysis ended and the hologram displayed the system operating in real ti, I felt a smile spread across my face.

All this complexity, all these chanisms...

They were impressive for this world.

But to , coming from a place where vehicles powered by internal nuclear energy were common, it seed almost rudintary.

Of course, I thought, these balloons are masterpieces in this world, but if I had access to more technological resources and a few weeks of work, it wouldn’t be difficult to replicate them — or even create sothing more efficient.

My smile widened.

It’s fascinating how sothing so advanced here can seem so archaic to soone who witnessed the peak of engineering in the year 5000 A.D.

As I watched the real balloon land with the soft creak of ropes and a gentle hiss of steam escaping from its valves, a mixture of curiosity and ambition stirred within .

Could this steam battery be used as a weapon?

If so... have the mages already understood the power of a pistol or a machine gun?

I assu magical energy pistols must be quite powerful...

Eduard was full of questions, but he quickly shook his head and thought directly.

Perhaps an antimatter pistol would be more powerful than magical energy.

After all, if magical energy is what mages emit from their bodies, it is nothing more than radiation at a distorted level.

After the balloons landed, a faint hiss of steam escaping from the pressure valves announced the opening of the side doors.

From within erged mages dressed in white, their robes gleaming under the sunlight.

They walked with an air of confidence, yet there was a certain calm on their faces.

It didn’t take long for so of the camp’s older instructors to approach them, exchanging quick words.

They seed like old acquaintances, perhaps even accomplices in matters that we, the Acolytes, would never understand.

A voice echoed from one of the mages.

—Everyone must proceed to the balloons of their respective towers.

As always, Marcelina stood out.

She was drinking sothing from a glass goblet, the red liquid glowing intensely.

Blood? Or just magical wine?

I wondered.

She seed slightly intoxicated, yet still composed, as if her drunkenness were carefully asured so as not to compromise her authority.

I walked toward the center of the group, my eyes scanning the expressions around .

There were familiar faces from our previous journey.

So recognized and smiled back, while others murmured among themselves, excited about what was to co.

To the right, I noticed Lucy and Emily heading toward the balloons of their towers.

Emily was the only one who waved at , while Lucy, as if rembering our past monts, turned her face away, unwilling to et my gaze directly.

As soon as we approached the balloon, a large basket revealed itself, equipped with several cushioned seats.

Marcelina, still holding her goblet, gave quick orders and walked toward the control cabin, disappearing from sight.

—Get in!

The interior of the balloon was comfortable.

The seats were made of soft leather, but the space was tight, reminding of train seats from my previous world.

Liam assud the role of leader, though it was obvious he did so more to assert himself than out of real necessity.

—Alright! Let assign your seats for this journey!

Before he could continue, Oliver interrupted, clearly irritated.

—To hell with it, man... Who cares what you think in this damned place?

He marched to seat number 18 and dropped into it, crossing his arms defiantly.

Liam turned pale, then red, his clenched fist revealing his inner struggle to remain calm.

After a few tense monts, he regained his composure and went back to assigning seats.

—Wallace, Cris, and I were in the sa group.

—Eduard, you’ll be in seat 20, he finally said.

Without protesting, I walked to my seat, located near the edge of the basket.

1193 Words

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