With the holographic blueprint floating before my eyes, I began gathering the necessary pieces to build the MG-Tyrant 001.
I walked over to one of the shelves and picked up a cylindrical fra made of reinforced alloy, which would serve as the base for the weapon’s barrel.
The tal was resistant to heat and pressure, perfect for withstanding high-caliber shots.
Using a precision torch, I began welding the internal sections, ensuring that the combustion chamber and thermal cooling system were perfectly aligned.
I stepped on the pedal beneath the workbench and, with a soft chanical sound, an automated drill I had previously designed descended from the laboratory ceiling, spinning at high speed.
With extre care, I began machining the barrel, making sure its inner surface was smooth and precise.
Each piece fit perfectly into place.
The hydraulic stabilizing pistons were adjusted with surgical precision, and the rotary drum system was mounted just below the body of the weapon.
The structure was taking shape rapidly.
Then, in the middle of the work, I stopped abruptly.
Sothing was wrong.
The bullets.
I closed my eyes for a mont, reflecting.
I had the perfect machine gun design, but I didn’t have enough gunpowder to manufacture the ammunition.
I sighed, irritated.
My mind automatically began reviewing the chemical formula of black powder.
74.7% potassium nitrate — the famous saltpeter, responsible for supplying oxygen for combustion.
13.6% charcoal — the primary fuel, allowing the powder to burn efficiently.
11.7% sulfur — lowers the ignition temperature and stabilizes the burn.
I knew exactly how to synthesize these components in my laboratory, but I didn’t have enough raw materials.
I clenched my fists in frustration.
Damn it!
If I wanted to continue the construction, I would have to go out and buy the necessary reagents at the trade post.
.
.
.
.
.
Several days later.
Before , on the reinforced tal stand in the workshop, the war machine I had created with my own hands was complete.
A masterpiece of engineering at the acolyte level, of course... I doubt any true mages would waste their ti on armor that could be turned into lted scrap with a single spell.
I took a deep breath, letting my eyes examine every detail.
The tal skeleton had molded perfectly to the human form, but it was far more than just a sturdy fra.
On the right arm, the plasma saw was firmly attached, ready to destroy any creature that dared approach.
On the left, the MG-Tyrant 001, its drum loaded with heavy-caliber ammunition capable of piercing even a tank’s armor.
And in the chest, pulsing with a bluish glow, was the steam reactor, heated by the lting of several magical crystals — the true soul of the armor.
In addition, inside the armor’s internal compartnts, healing capsules were stored in quantities sufficient to keep standing even in the midst of a brutal battle.
As long as I didn’t suffer a fatal wound, I could keep fighting.
It was ti to test it.
With one last breath, I stepped onto the platform and began entering the armor.
The sound of the pieces adjusting to my body was like music to my ears.
"Clicks~~"
"Clicks~~"
The tal closed around , the locks snapped into the joints, and the internal systems began responding to my commands.
Then, I pressed the button at the center of the chest.
The reactor awakened.
"FWOOOOSH!"
A burst of steam escaped through the armor’s exhaust vents as magical energy spread throughout the entire structure.
The gears turned, the pistons responded, and the machine ca to life.
I took my first step.
The floor vibrated under the armor’s weight.
Another step.
The servochanisms responded smoothly, without resistance.
I walked through the laboratory, listening to the subtle tallic sound of the armor moving around .
All systems were functioning perfectly.
But now ca the complicated part.
I could feel it deep in my mind.
If I showed this armor at the tower, it would be impossible not to draw attention.
The Acolytes would be impressed, perhaps even frightened.
To them, sothing like this was unthinkable — after all, most Acolytes limited themselves to studying conventional magic.
But the Mages...
The true Mages, those who mastered the higher circles of sorcery, could destroy my armor with a single basic light spell.
If any of them wished, everything I had built would be reduced to ashes in a matter of seconds.
But even so...
It didn’t matter.
They wouldn’t care about a steel machine like this created by an Acolyte.
I didn’t build this armor to show off.
I built it because I needed it.
Because the world outside the tower does not forgive weakness.
Enough testing.
I took my first step out of the laboratory.
"Vrooomm~~"
As soon as I stepped outside, the sound of the armor’s pistons and servochanisms echoed through the tower’s corridors.
The faint hum of the steam reactor vibrated in the air, pulsing like an artificial heart.
That was when I noticed a group of Acolytes exiting a nearby alchemy laboratory.
They were laughing and celebrating, clearly satisfied with so recent discovery.
—We did it! We finally did it! one of them, a young man with ssy brown hair, said while holding a small vial filled with golden liquid.
—Do you have any idea how much this will be worth on the market? A spiritual energy concentration potion! This could even be sold to high-level Mages! another exclaid, his eyes gleaming with greed.
—We’re filthy rich! If we sell it to an Acolyte who couldn’t break through the level 3 bottleneck, we’ll make a fortune! We won’t have to take risky missions anymore!
They were so absorbed in their conversation that they didn’t notice at first.
Until...
"Vrrrrrmmmmmm..."
The reactor’s hum echoed through the corridor and, at that instant, as if a spell had been cast over them, they all froze.
Then they turned around.
Their eyes widened, and their expressions shifted from surprise to pure shock.
One of the Acolytes even dropped the vial, but before it could shatter on the floor, he managed to catch it at the last second with trembling hands.
"WHAT???" one of them shouted, his voice filled with disbelief.
—What the hell is THAT?!?!
—Is that... armor? But that’s not just any armor! That is...
They seed incapable of forming a coherent sentence.
The truth was that no Acolyte working with alchemy had ever seen anything like this before.
A fully chanized combat armor, with a magical steam reactor pulsing in its chest.
I could have said sothing, but I kept walking, my tallic footsteps echoing firmly through the corridor.
And the Acolytes remained there, mouths agape, trying to process what they had just witnessed.
The sound of pistons and servochanisms continued to resonate through the halls as I advanced.
Each step echoed, and I could feel the Acolytes’ eyes turning toward .
The Acolytes, even those at level 3, seed stunned when they saw .
But the Mages... they didn’t even bother to look a second ti.
They passed by without hesitation, as if my presence were irrelevant.
After all, I didn’t exude any powerful energy — sothing a Mage would notice from afar.
That was good. I didn’t want to draw the attention of the Mages, not yet.
Better to be ignored, especially if it ant being able to move unnoticed.
I continued walking until I reached the mission acceptance counter.
The place was filled with Acolytes of all kinds — so carrying monster carcasses on their backs, others preparing to depart for new missions, and still others gathering while waiting for more mbers to arrive.
But as soon as I entered, all eyes turned to .
Whispers began to spread, so mouths hanging open while others exchanged glances, trying to figure out who the person in the strange armor was.
That was when a nearby engineer began approaching, his eyes fixed on my armor.
He seed to possess deep chanical knowledge, and his gaze shone with a mixture of fascination and reverence.
—Wait... is that a... combat armor? he said, his voice trembling, clearly shocked by what he was seeing.
He stepped closer, inspecting the armor up close, running his fingers over the tal parts and chanisms with almost reverent care.
His gaze lingered on the joints and pistons.
—This structure... this chanism is complex. The enchanted steam reactor... but the servochanism system and the integration... It’s simply astonishing!
I maintained my posture and gave a superficial answer, revealing nothing about the secret behind my creation.
—Haven’t you heard that curiosity killed the cat? I shrugged, trying to keep a casual tone.
The engineer seed slightly frustrated by my vague response, but curiosity still dominated his expression.
—You... you really built this by yourself? That’s not possible! The integration of magic with technology like this... I’ve never seen anything like it in the Tower. How long did it take you to assemble this?
I smiled at him, keeping my distance.
—I don’t know, maybe your mother does.
He looked as if he was about to ask more, but before he could continue, I turned toward the mission scrolls in front of and began examining the information.
...
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