I Built a Magical Defense Bureau in Another World
The moment I slammed headfirst into that wooden training dummy at eight years old, three crystal-clear realizations hit me all at once.
First, I had reincarnated into another world.
Second, there was no way in hell I was ever going to make it as a knight, no matter how many times I died and respawned.
Third… Shit. I’m completely fucked.
Welcome to the glorious medieval fantasy hellscape. Population: me, a modern twenty-first-century Korean guy trapped in the body of some poor noble brat. The year? Who the hell knows. The kingdom? Luxid, apparently. The social structure? Feudalism so thick you could spread it on toast.
I stared up at the rafters of the training hall, my skull throbbing like someone had used it for batting practice. The wooden dummy I’d just introduced myself to creaked smugly above me. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear the clank of armored knights drilling in the courtyard and the faint crackle of magic from the tower mages practicing their spells.
This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t a novel. This was real, and I was screwed.
Because here’s the thing: in this world, if you’re born a noble, you’re expected to either swing a sword like a maniac or sling fireballs like it’s going out of style. Me? I have the physical talent of a wet paper towel and the magical aptitude of a toaster. The family physician had politely informed my father that I possessed “the mana sensitivity of a particularly dull rock.”
Translation: I was useless.
In a world where monsters regularly crawled out of the forests to snack on villages, useless meant dead. Or worse, politically inconvenient.
I lay there on the cold stone floor, staring at the dust motes dancing in the shafts of sunlight, and made a decision.
If I can’t be a knight or a mage… then I’ll be something this world has never seen before.
I sat up slowly, rubbing the growing lump on my forehead. A slow, slightly unhinged grin spread across my face.
“I’m going to build a Magical Defense Bureau.”
The words felt ridiculous even as I said them. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. This world was stuck in the dark ages of warfare. Knights in shiny armor. Mages who thought “strategy” meant yelling louder while throwing bigger fireballs. Castles with walls that might as well have had neon signs saying “Please siege here.”
They had no concept of combined arms. No intelligence networks worth a damn. No logistics, no doctrine, no standardized equipment, no goddamn doctrine.
Me? I grew up on military history forums, strategy games, and late-night Wikipedia binges about everything from the Roman legions to modern drone warfare. I might not be able to swing a sword without tripping over my own feet, but I could damn well design a system that would make those sword-swinging idiots obsolete.
The first step was simple. I needed to stop thinking like a fantasy protagonist and start thinking like a military reformer.
Because in this world, if you can’t beat them at their own game…
You change the game entirely.
I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the concerned looks from the training master who was probably wondering if the young master had finally lost what little sense he was born with.
“Hey,” I called out, my voice still cracking with youth but carrying a confidence I definitely didn’t feel. “Cancel my sword lessons for the next month. I’ve got more important things to do.”
The training master stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
“Young master… your father—”
“Tell him I’m pursuing a new path. One that’ll make our house the strongest in the kingdom.”
I turned and walked out of the training hall, my heart hammering in my chest.
Step one: Survive being a useless noble brat.
Step two: Build the foundation of a modern magical military.
Step three: Probably don’t die horribly in the process.
I had work to do. A lot of it. And if I screwed this up, well…
At least I’d go down as the most interesting failure this medieval shithole had ever seen.
Magical Defense Bureau Foundation
Status: In Progress
Difficulty: Nightmare Mode
I smirked to myself as I headed toward the family library. Time to see what kind of magical theory this world actually had.
Because if I was going to drag this medieval fantasy world kicking and screaming into the era of combined arms warfare…
I was going to need a lot of books.
And probably a stiff drink.