Malphegor
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MoP: Ch. 137
🕑 Added 2025-07-05 00:15:26 +0000 UTC---Viktor's POV---
I stared at the complex and massive mech on the blueprint, falling into endless silence. Never mind whether this thing was even reasonable or feasible. Even if it could be built, how were we supposed to use it at this stage? Who would cover the maintenance costs?
"You clearly put effort into this," I said as I picked out the giant mech blueprint and stamped it with [Rejected].
"Unfortunately, this is Honeyvale, not Cybertron."
"A steamship? We're not anywhere near the sea. Rejected!"
"A steam engine? Trying to mimic the Industrial Revolution? Unfortunately, the design is too outdated. Could use some optimization..."
"Windmills and waterwheels? Not very practical. Rejected."
"A bicycle? Hmm... barely acceptable."
I picked out the bicycle blueprint and flipped to the next one. My movements paused.
"A parts production chain?" A glint of approval appeared in my eyes. "Now this is a solid idea."
Right then, micron-scale robots arrived at the office.
I categorized the reviewed blueprints and carefully examined the one in my hand. The goal of the parts production chain wasn't to make complete products. Instead, it focused on producing basic mechanical components like gears, bearings, and screws. Due to the scarcity of smart machine tools, having such widely-used basic parts constantly occupying valuable machine time was a huge waste. And so, this player proposed separating conventional parts manufacturing from the machine tool workflow.
I couldn't help but nod. "I was planning to handle this myself, but a player came up with the same idea."
That saved me quite a bit of effort.
I glanced at the name on the blueprint. "So it's him."
A well-known tech expert among the players. Though his major was mechanical engineering, he was obsessed with military research. Was he finally willing to work in his actual field?
I carefully reviewed the blueprint again. Once I confirmed there were no issues, I decisively approved it. After all, it was truly from someone in their core field. The data was detailed and precise, clearly the result of hands-on design and revision.
The next blueprint was also for a basic industrial chain, but this time, it was focused on building a rail-based mining cart transportation system.
"Hmm?" I looked further. "This one's good too."
Even though the iron ore vein wasn't far from the industrial zone, we couldn't rely on just one mine, there would always be farther ones. Mining cart tracks and electric locomotives were definitely needed.
The signature again: ProGamer_Daddy.
The one after that? Also his. The final four blueprints were all from him.
"At this pace... what kind of grind-freak is he?"
If I remembered correctly, I had already received designs from this guy last night and this morning. But due to missing information and formatting issues, those had been sent back for revision.
This speed of revision and iteration, was it even human?
All four blueprints hit my internal benchmark for approval. "This is a huge win!"
I felt exhilarated.
I even went ahead and approved the attached application to borrow a magic engine. Worried he might be understaffed, I added 10 extra NPC hire slots for him, and assigned him a brand-new large factory.
I backed up all the approved blueprints using a duplication spell, gave the papers a flick, and smiled with satisfaction.
"Looks like we need to keep putting a bit more pressure on the players, who knows when the next surprise will pop up."
Just like this time. A few magical artifacts and resources tied to contribution points… and suddenly a bunch of players were showing "concern" for the development of the Watchers?
"But we're still lacking research experts among the players…"
At this rate, ProGamer_Daddy might just end up dominating the entire industrial zone by himself. In the next round of closed beta player selection, we'd definitely need to bring in more talent with scientific backgrounds.
With that thought, I stuffed the annotated blueprints into the return box. Before long, a courier from the town, responsible for delivering letters, would bring them to the respective players.
---
After handling some minor town affairs, evening came.
I stretched my back, as usual grumbling about how hard it was being a lord, then headed to Hawkes' blacksmith workshop.
Ding! Ding! Clang!
Crack!
The explosive crackling of burning charcoal mingled with the rhythmic clanging of hammer on metal, and the occasional murmur of voices, creating a noisy, bustling atmosphere. Everyone was hard at work in their respective spots, the whole place alive with energy.
As soon as I stepped in, even my bones felt warmer from the heat.
"Good day, Lord Viktor!"
"Look, it's the faction leader on patrol!"
Passing swiftly through townsfolk and players alike, I made my way to a private room at the very back and found Hawkes.
Bang! Bang!
The heat inside was just as intense and almost distorting. The wall facing the door had been completely opened up, yet it still couldn't stop the sweat from pouring down the red-bearded dwarf.
Hawkes stood by a massive iron anvil barely a meter tall, hammering away at a piece of red-hot metal. Upon hearing me enter, he glanced over but didn't stop swinging the hammer.
"Lord von Vinesse!"
Bang!
"Please wait a moment!"
Bang!
The window for shaping heated iron was short, and he had to make every second count. I understood perfectly and waited patiently. The hammer rang out in crisp rhythms, sparks flying with every strike. Hawkes worked tirelessly by the roaring forge, drenched in sweat, and only after a long while did he finally stop.
Ssshhh!
The glowing iron was plunged into cold water, which hissed and steamed on contact. He didn't spare it another glance. He wiped the sweat from his brow and panted heavily.
"Lord von Vinesse, shall we speak somewhere else?"
"No need."
I glanced at the steaming barrel of water. Thanks to the frost magic spell at the bottom, the bubbles on the surface were quickly fading. Looks like the blacksmith shop got quite a deal out of the goblin materials.
"Here is fine."
This was the quietest spot in an otherwise noisy forge anyway. Plus, I only had a few questions.
"How far along are you on the magic wall research?"
At that, the relaxed expression on Hawkes' face immediately stiffened into a grimace.
"The magic wall…"
After receiving the shipment from the Ship-Carriage Guild yesterday, he was immediately assigned a new task: to build a city wall capable of withstanding medium to large-scale magic tides. It had to cover a 10-kilometer radius around Honeyvale Town, and the deadline was less than three months.
Hawkes rubbed his hand against his clothes twice, trying to wipe them clean. I watched as he organized his thoughts, clearly hesitating before speaking.
"The rare materials needed are indeed quite complete, enough to construct the core of a magical wall defense, but after all, it's a large-scale fortification..."
"Isn't there marrowsilver?" I interrupted.
Marrowsilver, a rare ore with spatial properties. Even if only one ten-millionth of it is integrated, it can grant magical artifacts an extremely high degree of spatial extension. Turning an embroidery needle into a pillar that holds back the sea would be no problem at all.
Precisely because of the heavy burden of constructing the defensive wall, I had spent a fortune to have the Merchant Guild procure a full ton of marrowsilver.
Speaking of which, Hawkes' face darkened even more.
"That's exactly the problem. I've never forged a magical artifact using marrowsilver before!"
"You don't know how to forge with marrowsilver?" I asked in surprise. "The Melting Hammer Church's technology is that tightly restricted? I remember six hundred years ago, even high-grade forgemasters could access that technique. It was the glorious age of the gods, after all. Things were different back then."
A glimmer of nostalgia and longing flashed in Hawkes' eyes, only to quickly vanish.
"If I could return to that time... ah, never mind."
He looked back at me.
"Judging by your tone, it seems you're well-versed in marrowsilver?"
I raised my hand, revealing bones. My hollow eye sockets faced him.
"If I could do the job myself, why would I be hiring you?"
I might not fall apart so easily these days, but picking up a forgemaster's hammer and forging day and night was still out of the question. With less than three kilograms of bone, how was I supposed to lift a hammer measured in tons?
Hawkes choked for a moment, then resumed speaking, "That's not what I meant."
"I wonder... could I become your disciple, and learn the art of forging marrowsilver?"
"Learn it?"
I pondered for a moment. The technique of material expansion and spatial compression was not something easily taught. It required a deep understanding of spatial laws and the conceptual philosophy of material reconstruction.
Still... maybe it was worth a try?
"Have you ever forged storage-type magic artifacts?" I asked.
Hawkes' expression turned solemn.
"My scholarship at age seven with the Melting Hammer Church came from a spatial storage artifact I forged myself."
"Have you ever crafted barrier-type magical tools?"
"This obsidian warhammer can generate a barrier!"
"Then..." I asked several more questions in a row, and Hawkes answered each one fluently.
I nodded repeatedly as I listened. It seemed that aside from the techniques blocked by the Melting Hammer Church, this man's level as a forgemaster was solid and authentic.
Only two final key questions remained.
"Do you know the formation principle of dimensional crystals?"
He answered without hesitation. "Spatial rifts produce highly unstable and chaotic magical fields. Some special ores, when exposed to these fields, gain spatial properties."
"Dimensional crystals are one such product."
I waited for a rare moment, making sure he had finished speaking, then looked slightly surprised.
"That's it?"
Hawkes thought carefully, then uncertainly said, "Is there more?"
"Chaotic magical fields from spatial rifts can indeed produce most spatial-attributed ores," I explained. "But dimensional crystals are an exception. Even in stable and calm magical environments, they can still form in large quantities. Anyone who's interacted with them multiple times can feel their unique properties. You've never made a large teleportation magic array before?"
A blank look appeared in Hawkes' eyes.
"I'm a forgemaster."
Teleportation arrays weren't magical artifacts, they naturally weren't his responsibility to craft.
I paused, then changed the question. "Then what about dimensional crystal cutting? How do you split a piece of dimensional crystal into two parts with minimal loss?"
Silence.
His forehead, which had stopped sweating, began to bead with perspiration once again.
He stammered, "Is that... important?"
"Extremely important," I said firmly.
All the previous questions could, in fact, be broadly summarized as a test of how well Hawkes understood spatial laws. Unfortunately, his knowledge of spatial laws remained at the level of applied forging. Using it to make storage-type magical tools or link them with spatial magic arrays, no problem at all. One could even call him knowledgeable. But it wasn't enough to handle the processing and fusion of one ton of marrowsilver. He would need to start from scratch and learn the foundational principles of spatial law, a process that would take at least a year.
Given the situation, I had no choice but to give up on using marrowsilver.
"There's more than one way to build a magic wall. Just go with what you're familiar with. But... building a city wall stretching dozens of kilometers from scratch, that's a massive workload. It's not impossible, though. Whatever you need, just say it."
Hawkes was silent for a moment, then his tone turned firm.
"People. I need a lot of manpower!"
Aside from the core defense systems, watchtowers, and gates, the rest of the magical defense wall didn't require particularly advanced techniques. Ordinary people with no magical talent could handle most of the work.
I nodded in understanding.
"After all, this is a defense project against the magic tide. Everyone in Honeyvale has a duty to help."
"I need a specific number."
"A thousand!" Hawkes answered immediately. "And I mean a thousand ordinary people."
Although he didn't elaborate, both of us understood what "ordinary people" meant. As our eyes met, he added awkwardly, trying to smooth things over.
"The Watchers are all very capable. They shouldn't be tied up with this."
I waved my hand. "I get it."
Players were highly efficient, one player could do the work of two or three native townsfolk. But they were also highly unreliable. It was almost impossible to expect one player to stay in the same position for three consecutive days. For a project that demanded long-term consistency, it was better to rely on the more steady and reliable natives.
"A thousand ordinary people, huh? I'll... do my best to find them for you," I replied with difficulty.
A thousand natives, even pulling them from the Hollow's Edge wouldn't guarantee quick results. There were indeed a lot of refugees, but the harsh environment forced them to constantly move around. It was like chasing scattered beans across the ground, it would take time to track them all down.
Another manpower issue.
I sighed inwardly. Hiding in the Great Oak Forest had its pros and cons, while it allowed us to avoid the church's surveillance, it also meant missing out on a lot of refugees who could be converted to our cause.
This issue... would have to be left to the players to solve.
