With the holographic project floating before my eyes, I began gathering the necessary parts to build the MG-Tyrant 001.
I walked over to one of the shelves and picked up a cylindrical frame made of reinforced alloy, which would serve as the base for the gun’s barrel. The metal was heat- and pressure-resistant, perfect for withstanding high-caliber shots. Using a precision torch, I began welding the inner 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 mechanical sound, an automated drill I had designed earlier descended from the ceiling of the lab, spinning at high speed. With extreme care, I began machining the barrel, ensuring its inner surface was smooth and precise.
Each piece fit into place.
The hydraulic stabilizer pistons were adjusted with surgical precision, and the rotating drum system was mounted just below the body of the weapon. The structure was taking shape quickly.
Then, in the middle of the work, I stopped abruptly.
Something was wrong.
The bullets.
I closed my eyes for a moment, reflecting. I had the perfect machine gun design, but I didn’t have enough gunpowder to make the ammunition.
I sighed, irritated.
My mind automatically began to review the chemical formula for 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 lab, but I didn’t have enough raw materials.
I clenched my fists in frustration.
"Damn."
If I wanted to continue with the build, I would have to go out and buy the necessary reagents at the commercial post.
Several days later.
Before me, on the reinforced metal stand of the workshop, the war machine I had created with my own hands was ready. A masterpiece of engineering at the acolyte level.
I took a deep breath, letting my eyes scan every detail.
The metal skeleton molded itself perfectly to the human form, but it was much more than just a sturdy frame. The surface of reinforced black steel absorbed light in an almost spectral way, making it less visible in dark environments. On the right arm, the plasma saw was securely attached, ready to shred any creature that dared to come close. On the left, the MG-Tyrant 001 machine gun, its drum loaded with thick-caliber ammunition capable of piercing even tank armor.
And on the chest, pulsing with a bluish glow, was the steam reactor, heated by the melting of some magical crystals, the true soul of the armor.
Additionally, within the armor’s internal compartments, healing vials were stored in sufficient quantity to keep me standing even amidst a brutal battle. As long as I didn’t suffer a fatal wound, I could keep fighting.
It was time to test it.
With one last sigh, I climbed onto the platform and began to enter the armor.
The sound of the pieces adjusting to my body was like music to my ears. The metal closed around me, the locks fit into the joints, and the internal systems began interacting with my commands.
Then, I pressed the button in the center of my chest.
The reactor awakened.
"FWOOOOSH!"
A burst of steam escaped through the armor’s exhaust outlets as the magical energy spread throughout the structure. The gears turned, the pistons responded, and the machine came to life.
I took my first step. The ground vibrated under the weight of the armor.
Another step. The servomechanisms responded smoothly, without resistance.
I walked through the laboratory, hearing the subtle metallic sound of the armor moving around me. Every system was functioning perfectly.
But now came the tricky part.
I could feel it deep in my mind. If I showed this armor in the tower, it would be impossible not to attract attention.
The Acolytes would be impressed, maybe even frightened. For them, something like this was unthinkable—after all, most Acolytes were limited to studying conventional magic. But the Mages...
The real Mages, those who mastered the high circles of sorcery, could obliterate my armor with a single well-cast light spell.
If any of them wanted, everything I had built would be reduced to ashes in a matter of seconds.
But still...
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 doesn’t forgive weakness.
I turned toward the door, feeling the weight of the armor around me.
Enough testing.
I took the first step out of the laboratory.
"Asking for missions now."
As soon as I left the lab, the sound of the pistons and servomechanisms of the armor echoed through the tower’s corridors. The faint hum of the enchanted steam reactor vibrated in the air, pulsing like an artificial heart.
That’s when I noticed a group of Acolytes coming out of a nearby alchemy lab.
They were laughing and celebrating, clearly satisfied with some recent discovery.
"We did it! We finally did it!" one of them, a young man with messy brown hair, said while holding a small vial with a golden liquid.
"Do you have any idea how much this will be worth on the market? A potion of spiritual energy concentration! This could even be sold to high-level Mages!" — another exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with greed.
"We’re made! If we sell it to an Acolyte who hasn’t managed to break through the level 3 bottleneck, we’ll be rich! We won’t have to take on risky missions anymore!"
They were so caught up in their conversation that they didn’t immediately notice me.
Until...
"Vrrrrrmmmmmm..."
The hum of the reactor echoed through the corridors, and in that instant, as if a spell had been cast on them, they all froze.
Then they turned.
Their eyes widened, and their expressions went from surprise to sheer astonishment.
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.
"W-H-A-T???" — one of them shouted, his voice full of disbelief.
"What the hell is THIS?!?!"
"It’s... armor? But this isn’t just any armor! This is..."
They seemed incapable of forming a coherent sentence.
The truth was, no Acolyte working with alchemy had ever seen anything like this before. A fully mechanized combat armor, with a magical steam reactor pulsing in the chest.
I could have said something, but I just kept walking, my metallic steps echoing firmly through the corridor.
And the Acolytes just stood there, mouths open, trying to process what they had just witnessed.
The sound of the pistons and servomechanisms continued to resonate through the corridors as I moved forward. Each step echoed, and I could feel the Acolytes’ eyes turning in my direction.
The Acolytes, even those at level 3, seemed stunned to see me. I saw several of them staring at me, wide-eyed, as though I were a creature from another dimension. Some whispered among themselves, others just stared at me as if witnessing a historic event.
But the Mages... they didn’t even bother to glance a second time. They walked past me without hesitation, as if my presence were irrelevant. After all, I didn’t exude any powerful energy—something a Mage would notice from a distance. It was good that way. I didn’t want to attract the Mages’ attention, not yet.
Better to be ignored, especially if it meant being able to pass unnoticed.
I continued walking until I reached the mission acceptance desk, where the hum of activity was in full swing. The place was filled with Acolytes of all kinds: some with monster carcasses on their backs, others preparing to leave for new missions, and still others gathering as they waited for more members to arrive.
But as soon as I entered, all eyes turned toward me. Whispers began to spread, with some mouths agape and others exchanging looks, trying to figure out who the person in the strange armor was.
That’s when an engineer nearby began to approach, his eyes fixed on my armor. He seemed to have a deep understanding of mechanics, and his eyes were shining with a mixture of fascination and reverence.
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"Wait… is this 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 metal parts and mechanisms with almost reverential care. His gaze was fixed on the joints and pistons.
"This structure... this mechanism is complex. The enchanted steam reactor... but the servomechanism system and the integration... It’s simply impressive!"
I maintained my posture and gave a superficial reply, without revealing the secret behind my creation.
"Ever heard that curiosity killed the cat?" I shrugged, trying to keep a casual tone.
The engineer seemed a little frustrated by my vague answer, but curiosity still dominated his face.
"You... you really built this 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 to assemble this?"
I smiled at him, keeping my distance. "I don’t know, maybe your mom knows."
He seemed about to ask more, but before he could continue, I turned toward the mission scrolls in front of me, beginning to examine the information.
...
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