Plundering the Magic Tower and Freira's Breakdown

Magic and magitech are almost identical.

It's magic when you channel mana through circuits in your body to produce phenomena.

Magitech is just mimicking that with mechanical devices. Same operating principle.

The only difference is whether the circuits are drawn on organic or inorganic material.

In that sense, the magic tower is both the cradle and the grave of automatons.

After Argent's mechanical revolution, mages became obsessed with the convenience of machines. There were a tiny few purists insisting on using only the body for magic, but most took the easy, fast path.

So be really careful here, Elise.

I've heard there are people here who are friendly to our kind.

Friendly? Way too friendly.

The magic tower. Bastion of the mechaphiles.

A place utterly dangerous in the exact opposite way from the Holy Kingdom.

As soon as we entered, it was packed with hunchbacks and bespectacled weirdos. Most wore gloomy black robes.

If the robes had been white, it would've been a dead ringer for grad school.

"Too lazy to eat. Isn't there a pill for that?"

"Out of coffee... coffee..."

Even with the Karstein crest emblazoned on my armor, not a single gaze lingered on me.

A few women glanced at my face now and then, but they soon went back to their own business.

Elise. Stick closer.

Senior, you like playing the good chemistry with your wife that much? Darling~

No. Our necks are linked by that wire right now. If they spot it, we're done for.

Right now, they're seeing me and Elise as humans. But if they find out we're automatons?

Coming out as machines in the mechaphiles' den.

We'd be flooded with requests for disassembly.

I led Elise behind a machine chugging away with piston strokes. The Northern Magic Tower was the first one I cleared in the game. I still knew it like the back of my hand.

As I pried open the maintenance passage entrance, Elise's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Taking a girl behind a pistoning machine. Perverted.

Mute.

Affirmative.

Handling a yapping mutt, rule two.

If it keeps yapping, muzzle it.

A few tugs of strength, and the maintenance cover popped off with a thunk. Head straight inside, and we'd hit the spare storage room.

It should be stacked with cores.

As I alternated glances between the passage and Elise, my precious junior clamped her mouth shut.

H-Hubby. Sending your wife into a gear-sized passage first? What are you planning from behind...

I didn't answer. Just shoved her plump ass in with my foot.

Senior. Be a little gentler.

Testing your sensor performance. Head to where the cores are piled up.

Pervert.

Elise fumbled a bit in the passage but found the route.

...Slender build, but damn, what an ass.

Spare storage room.

Palm-sized spheres overflowed from shelves onto the floor. All mana cores, sorted by grade and purpose.

"Phew. Can I talk now?"

Yeah. I'll still have to stay like this, though.

"Soy sauce factory foreman. The giraffe I drew. Oh yeah."

Elise, pent-up from the vow of silence, spouted nonsense out loud.

Imagine how hard it is for me. Selfish junior.

While checking the piled cores one by one, I found a suitable one. A crude gray sphere, no decorations.

'Military Grade 1 core.'

Not as good as Elise's Grade 3, but from this grade on, performance jumps massively compared to civilian models. Makes sense—they're for standard military automatons.

Max mana capacity, burst output, all improved.

'Voice module should work fine.'

If lucky, maybe unlock more Aegis defense forms.

Couldn't install it right away, though. A core's like a human heart. Not a full surgery, but needs an expert for replacement.

'Head back to the ducal residence first. Call in a magitech engineer from here to install it. Hilarious picture that'd paint.'

No guilt pangs.

Dusted and unused? Share the good stuff, yeah?

"...Um, senior. You're really taking that?"

Elise hesitated, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looking up at me. Felt bad taking from someone else's house? She's not rotten to the core, after all.

Elise. Listen well. This isn't stealing. It's borrowing.

"No, senior. This time, you're completely wrong."

Not buying it? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Maybe I underestimated her.

Thinking about it, maybe I'm the one corrupting her.

"It's not stealing or borrowing. This is reclaiming what's ours."

Elise hefted an entire box crammed with cores. Their total value would outstrip a commoner's lifetime earnings.

Rijelise.

"Humans are made of flesh and heart. We're made of steel and cores. These cores were ours from the start."

Calm down and put that down.

"..."

Elise shrugged regretfully and set the box down.

Too bad, but no better modules in the tower than your core. Don't get greedy.

I pocketed three Military Grade 1 cores and retraced our steps. At that neglect level, they wouldn't notice missing ones.

The locals still paid us no mind.

Just as we headed smoothly for the first-floor main exit—

"...Hmph. Hm hm. That's lube scent."

A disheveled-haired woman brushed past me and grabbed my wrist.

"Hey, you. What division? Power? Exterior?"

"..."

"Greasy without even washing up. Kinda impressed. Tell me your affiliation."

Always goes like this. Elise struggled to speak up for me.

"We're from the Karstein Ducal House."

"Oh? ...Ah, armor. ...Then why the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lube smell?"

Shithead.

Mountain after mountain—she spotted the thin wire linking me and Elise.

"I-Internal connection wire? You're not human!"

"Not human? Then what?"

"What else... Machine, duh? Heh heh."

Bespectacled nerds swarmed us in an instant. No hostility in their eyes.

That was the problem.

Senior. What now?

Calm down. I've got a plan.

They probably saw the wire. How about kissing here and pretending it's saliva trail?

Calm down, I said.

I gave Elise clear instructions.

Call out the highest rank here. Loudly.

"Come out, strongest bastard here!!!"

Booming voice. Fucking nailed it.

Luckily it worked—the guy about to smack Elise appeared. Gloomy-faced man.

Gaunt cheeks, dark circles. Long curly hair for a guy.

Looked like generations of mages, but surprisingly ex-knight.

Northern Magic Tower Lord, Mathias Graupel Baron. Former Karstein Knight Captain.

"...We said no visitors."

His mutter blanketed the tower in silence. Bad vibe. Soon body search, cores confiscated.

System logs kept pushing the massacre route.

Thinking that, I still drew my electric saw from my right arm. Onlookers flinched back.

"...Heh. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Malfunctioning automaton? Wearing ducal armor no less."

No. Breaking the situation.

I extended my hand palm-up to the baron, raising the saw vertically over my five fingers.

A blade one with frost.

Salute passed only to Karstein Knight Order elites. Known solely to true successors.

"...Everyone halt and step back."

In the original, only three used this salute.

Northern Grand Duke, Ulrich Karstein. Ducal Knight Captain, Adelheit Hertlan. And Northern Magic Tower Lord, Mathias Graupel.

"...Heard His Grace recruited a new knight."

"An automaton, they said."

The tower lord was better informed than the guards. His expression softened, and he addressed the other magitech engineers.

"This one's my junior. Means guest. Treat with respect."

The crowding mechaphiles smacked their lips in disappointment.

"No wonder... faint lube whiff."

"The lady next—is she an automaton too?"

"I get it. Faint char scent mixed in. That's Argent."

Seeing their moist gazes and lolling tongues, Elise pressed into my chest.

...S-Senior. Kinda scary.

Elise. Broaden your horizons. You were thrilled earlier about humans friendly to our kin.

It's past friendly—looks like they're gonna pounce.

"Mind opening the mainframe just once? Curious about joint actuators too."

"No, not copying blueprints. Just full teardown and reassembly. Assembly's reverse disassembly, right?"

A flood of disassembly requests from the tower's mechaphiles. Fortunately, they kept distance.

The tower lord nodded repeatedly.

"I see. His Grace teaching Karstein style to an automaton... Finally grasping the beauty of machines."

Off-base assumption as always, but everyone's happy, so cheers.

But it didn't end there.

Mathias strode up and shoved his hand into my armor.

The system log shrieked in horror. Relax. Baron's not gay.

"If that's your goal, just say so. What're you gonna do with spare Military Grade 1 cores..."

So he knew from the start.

The baron flung the three borrowed cores aside and pulled out another from his bosom.

"Military Grade 2 core. Sorry this is all our tower has. Give His Grace my regards."

O what?

Meanwhile, at the Karstein Ducal Residence.

"..."

Freira stared at her mirror with hollow eyes.

Hamel was gone. Without a word.

Alsanna rushed over upon hearing and comforted her. Grateful, but the emptiness lingered.

- The restroom is that way. The restroom is that way.

That was his last words?

Just in case, she scoured the residence restrooms. No trace of him, naturally.

"Broken after all? W-When?"

When rescuing her from the barbarian? Or fighting Gaius in the audience chamber?

She gnawed her nails neurotically, but no answers. Alsanna watched worriedly from beside.

"Freira..."

"...I'm alone again. Like ten years ago."

"N-No! You've got me!"

True. Clumsy but always thoughtful Alsanna was there.

But... Alsanna wasn't Hamel.

For the first time, she felt the hole Hamel left in her pierced heart.

"Wait. Something under the pillow. A letter?"

"...Huh? R-Really!?"

Freira's face lit up. She snatched the letter and read with trembling heart.

Slip.

The letter slipped from her limp hand, fluttering down.

Freira collapsed like a broken doll. An incomprehensible sound leaked from her lips.

"Fr-Freira? What does it say..."

Alsanna's face soured as she read it.

"This looks deliberately tampered with. Burned to cover the content."

"A-Alsanna. What do I do?"

Freira's ears shut out such reason.

"Hamel abandoned me. Like Mom did."