Chapter 48.2

“No kidnappings.”

“Yes! No kidnappings!”

“And if you find promising candidates, don’t hire them immediately. Report them to your brother first. The Frost Knights and High Tower guards need to vet them to ensure they’re not suspicious.”

“Understood! Of course, sir!”

“Then get moving. There’s much to be done.”

“Yes, I’ll leave immediately! Brother, take good care of the boss!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect him with my life if need be.”

With those words, Theo threw on his shirt and dashed out of the building without a backward glance.

This isn’t a dream, is it? It’s real, right?

As he ran, Theo kept pinching his cheeks and glancing at his gray, newly acquired right arm every ten seconds.

He was afraid it might fall off or that he’d wake up to find it had been just a dream.

At last, Theo understood why the High Tower had assigned even a senior Frost Knight to guard Count Arad.

Arad’s abilities went far beyond crafting salt or inventing recipes.

The barracks! My comrades are in the barracks!

He couldn’t wait another second. He had to show his comrades his new arm and spread the news.

Many of them had seemed dangerously close to making drastic decisions.

The news that Theo, the one-armed knight, had been given a new arm spread like wildfire.

Before I could even finish making additional prototypes, Grand Duchess Arina and a delegation of witches from the High Tower showed up at the Arad Company in droves.

Behind the duchess stood high-ranking officials like Haita, senior knights led by Balzac and Sun, and other dignitaries.

The area around the Arad Company was swarming with guards and onlookers, as if it were an official opening ceremony.

“These are the magic stones used in prosthetics,” I began.

“Interesting…”

“This is muscle and tendon harvested from orcs, carefully processed and combined. The bones are from young orcs—adult orc bones are too large and heavy.”

“Remarkable. To think that you could craft new arms and legs from monster remains,” one official marveled.

Dragged upstairs from my basement workshop, I found myself presenting my work to the duchess and her entourage.

“The three magic stones serve distinct purposes. Electric magic transmits sensory signals to the brain, telekinetic magic regulates the movement of muscles and tendons, and life magic prevents corrosion and ensures seamless fusion with the user’s body.”

Despite my confident presentation, I couldn’t help sneaking glances at Isabelle and the witches.

Technically, “life magic” is just a sanitized name—it’s basically black magic.

The fact that I’d used monster corpses was unsettling enough, but layering black magic on top of it? I felt uneasy.

“…”

“Fascinating…”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

To my surprise, the witches didn’t seem particularly bothered.

They were amusingly busy blocking their ears with magical earplugs while inspecting the exposed enchantments on the magic stones.

Since I hadn’t applied any concealment spells, the magical circuits engraved on the stones were plain to see.

“Miss, by the way, that life magic…” Isabelle began, whispering something about the subject to Arina.

She was likely explaining the black magic components. Isabelle herself had also plugged her ears while I was presenting.

“Is that so? Then we can’t sell it to the Empire,” Arina said matter-of-factly.

“We can sell it under the table,” Isabelle suggested.

“Hmm? Ah, yes… after all, those hypocrites have secret dealings with demon cults anyway.”

Arina’s reaction to my black magic enhancements was calm and pragmatic.

So they distinguish between black magic and black magicians. Perhaps this tolerance stems from the North’s independence from the Church and Mage Tower.

With the most nerve-wracking issue resolved, I felt a wave of relief.

Now that they’ve seen this, I should be able to outsource the production of magic stones separately.

As I calculated the logistics for mass-producing chimera automail, I watched the witches.

In the North, they were the only ones with the knowledge and skill to handle magical circuits and thaumaturgical engineering.

I’ll outsource the magic stone crafting and circuit engraving to them.

The other components—muscle, bone, tendon, and skin—could be processed by the skilled artisans Theo was recruiting.

However, engraving the magic circuits required at least a basic understanding of magic and the mana capacity of a second-circle mage.

The problem is, how long can I keep spoon-feeding this knowledge piecemeal?

As arcane technology begins to take off, the demand for thaumaturgical engineers will skyrocket.

Even if I write a detailed magic textbook like Earth’s study guides, there’s a limit to what people can achieve through self-study—especially at advanced levels.

Continuing to teach this way, bit by bit, wasn’t sustainable.

There’s definitely some secretive restriction or issue tying the witches’ hands.

Even after the recent purge of the rebellion, which greatly improved security, the witches remained unusually cautious. Their behavior couldn’t be dismissed as mere tradition—it was downright peculiar.

Whatever this restriction is, I can’t keep relying on such an inconvenient outsourcing system.

The witches’ insular culture didn’t help either. Even if someone learned magic independently, they’d likely be ignored unless they became an apprentice.

At this rate, mass-producing automail—or even subspace bags—will be impossible.

This realization prompted another idea.

When I write the magic textbooks, I should also establish an academy specializing in thaumaturgical engineering. If I ask Arina, she can quickly gather talented students from across the North.

Though it would take time and effort, it was a necessary step.

Forget it—I’ll just do it all myself!

Expansion in any business often begins with frustration over inefficiency or exploitation.

Just like Apple’s M1 chips, Amazon’s logistics, and Korea’s semiconductor independence, it seemed this otherworldly endeavor was no exception.

TL Note: Rate us on NOVEL UPDATES