—
Walking up the stairs to the aboveground part of the city, Gustave couldn't help but sigh as he remembered how the past two days had vanished in a blur of research.
Because of that, his plan to meet and teach Shupe in class was delayed, his meeting with Syanna and Gascon was temporarily halted, and securing Toussaint as a close guest within the council was pushed to the back of his mind.
But now he also understood why so many sorcerers, despite their manipulative habits, were never able to fully grasp the world they sought to control. Just like him, politics and scheming could not easily go hand in hand with deep research into one's own magic.
As a result, many monarchs were still able to retain a measure of authority, even to the point of killing mages, sorcerers included, despite all their magical abilities. Considering that sorcerers in this world were more akin to researchers, he understood the disadvantage of a mind too focused on study, one that could easily lose sight of the outside world.
So, sighing for what felt like the umpteenth time and finally understanding why the mages of this world chose to ally themselves with monarchs—needing time to focus on their research and unable to fully immerse themselves in politics—Gustave finally arrived at Zoltan's new workshop.
Entering the workshop and looking over the many contraptions produced as byproducts of the lathe, Gustave couldn't help but feel impressed as he examined Zoltan's creations.
With the lathe effectively serving as a substitute for a Grandmaster's hands, Zoltan was now able to produce a wide range of devices, both magical and non-magical, that were already far more advanced than anything normally available to the common populace of this medieval age.
From the inevitable creation of pocket watches to devices like the Parestisomach and the Magic Compass, Gustave couldn't help but shake his head. Seeing it with his own eyes in that moment, he realized there was not much difference in intelligence between modern people and those of the medieval era.
With Zoltan's creations—now including pocket watches and Magic Compasses—serving as the perfect example of this truth, Gustave knew for certain that what truly separated the two was merely tools and accumulated knowledge. There was nothing inherently special about modern people beyond having a more structured society.
Upon examining the Magic Compass— itself a byproduct of increasingly precise cutting techniques—Gustave also understood why Zoltan had been able to create it despite the complexity of the magic involved, something that ordinarily would have been beyond the reach of a common dwarf with only an innate aptitude for Rune Magic.
Such work was normally reserved for Chapter sorcerers, as everything related to magical contraptions was closely guarded, with any creation intended for public use required to pass through strict screening and control.
The reason was rooted in the nature of the world itself. In this world, science and magic went hand in hand, two sides of the same coin.
With the accumulated Rune Magic knowledge passed down from Zoltan's grandparents, knowledge that had already allowed him to reverse-engineer devices like the camera from Kovirian mages, Gustave knew it was only a matter of time before the sorcerers' special status began to erode.
Combined with advanced cutting tools inspired by Gustave's modern Earth, such creations could now be produced by the common populace rather than remaining exclusive to sorcerers.
Just as modern people were not inherently superior to medieval ones, differing only in tools and accumulated knowledge, the same held true for sorcerers and common folk. Where sorcerers relied on Source, others could instead wield Runes or manipulate materials that held Power.
All in all, seeing the tiny runes engraved across every part of the Magic Compass—runes far too fine to be carved by human hands alone—Gustave deduced that Zoltan's lathe had been modified far beyond the original design, now capable of imprinting countless minute runic patterns onto the surfaces of his contraptions.
Sure enough, upon seeing his Vaucanson 1.0 modified to the point of becoming an entirely different beast of a machine, Gustave walked up to Zoltan and remarked.
"By Lara Dorren, Zoltan. You're not stopping, are you? As if creating the Parestisomach wasn't enough, now you've modified my lathe design so it can engrave five-millimeter runes."
"Hahahahaha! Aye, ye know it! This here's me finest work yet! If it weren't for those blasted inspirations sneakin' up in the dead o' night, I'd never have cobbled magical amulets like this so quick!"
Seeing the baskets filled with dozens of magical amulets and trinkets—each designed to ward off colds, fleas, food poisoning, and countless other ailments—Gustave nodded. It was clear that Zoltan could now produce them with ease using the new lathe design.
"Hah! Now Meve says I can flog me magic baubles without worryin' about Chapter agents or inquisitors breathin' down me neck. Finally, I can rest me bones!"
Lifting a basket of magical baubles from the ground and setting it on the table, Zoltan continued as he slapped the basket of his proud creations.
"Here's the new batch Meve wants flogged at auction. None o' that street rubbish—these pack a proper punch an' won't rot yer innards from long-term magical muckin' about."
Looking at the magical baubles, Gustave felt reassured that his decision to make Zoltan his right-hand man had been the correct one.
And not only that. Because Zoltan, far more focused on the present and driven by pragmatism, contrasted sharply with his own future-oriented idealism, Gustave himself realized that— even without explicit guidance— Zoltan had already managed to solve one of the Twin Realms' most immediate problems, its lack of money.
Feeling embarrassed with himself for being too focused on the future—on creating advanced and complex transportation devices—and for failing to think of such a straightforward solution as selling magical baubles to become the leading kingdom capable of producing them cheaply, Gustave shook his head and acknowledged his flaw.
Thankfully, everyone around him compensated for one another, forming a system that functioned as a whole.
His mother focused on governing the Twin Realms. Zoltan handled immediate mass production. Calanthe managed the grand political stage. His ancient grandparents dealt with matters of the divine. From the reports, Vesemir was currently gathering available sorcerers and Witchers to address the growing number of monsters appearing across the world.
His maids focused on his personal finances and business affairs. The mages of the Twin Realms and the Cintrian Magic Academy handled immediate environmental crises such as tsunamis and floods. Dandelion worked on the cultural front, swaying public opinion. Alvin dealt with the Aen Elle and served as a heavy hitter on the Chapter side of affairs.
Reynard Odo traveled from town to town across the Twin Realms with the army, suppressing rebellions and banditry. Syanna and Gascon focused on the underworld, a role not yet fully effective due to their youth, but one that would eventually grow into a Syndicate-like force for this side of the Continent.
Aurora Tasso handled espionage and infiltration. His Twin Realms steward, Perrault, who also served as the head of Lyria and Rivia's intelligence network, had joined her efforts. The Naiads, having become neighbors, lent their aid as well, helping protect the Twin Realms from monsters the realm was not yet fully prepared to face.
Many other allies contributed in their own ways, roles that passed briefly through Gustave's mind as he read through the three-hundred-page report delivered by Larkin, his personal intelligence agent.
But one thing he knew for certain was that, with such support, Gustave was not alone in shaping the era he sought to build. Because of that, he could accept his shortcomings and focus on what he did best, translating his Earth-born scientific knowledge into magical inventions suited to this world.
After saying goodbye to Zoltan and spending time discussing the lathe and their plans moving forward, Gustave returned to his own unfinished designs, which, though already functional, still required further refinement.
Returning to his underground workshop, and after instructing Larkin to discreetly pass a message to his mother about building a tunnel connecting Zoltan's workshop to his own, Gustave focused on the designs that still needed polishing.
Although the charging station's design had already been completed during his time studying in Cintra, the situation and circumstances he now faced meant the entire locomotive system needed to be refined into something far more sophisticated, rather than remaining in its current crude form.
Especially now that Gustave had allies aligned with nature-loving peoples, such as Ermion and the Naiads, who sought the adoption of renewable resources, he decided to fulfill their wishes as well, particularly considering how much they had already helped him.
Coupled with the fact that he knew the effects of global warming would become far more extreme when magic was involved, Gustave decided that the charging station design should only be used sparingly.
Although Power drawn from the Elemental Plane and the Ethereal Plane was nearly infinite, he also understood that, sooner or later, it would eventually be depleted, preventing magic from manifesting freely in the physical world.
And because Power was not like oil, but rather a renewable resource that could be preserved through careful use, much like trees harvested in moderation rather than to the point of deforestation, Gustave began to develop the idea of regenerating Power, ensuring it would never fall past an irrecoverable threshold.
Thinking about solar panels, wind turbines, tidal ocean turbines, geothermal energy, and even nuclear reactions such as fission or fusion, Gustave eventually settled on two options, solar panels and wind turbines
These would allow his locomotive's Power supply to remain above the irrecoverable threshold after the initial jump start provided by charging stations.
Although it would be far more powerful to rely solely on nuclear fission, Gustave chose not to pursue that branch of the technological path, unwilling to provide too much inspiration to the people of this world.
When it came to nuclear fission chain reactions, even modern Earth's knowledge remained limited in its ability to counter them through force, relying instead almost entirely on prevention.
Even with neutron-absorbing control rods, he knew such measures only worked in controlled environments, not in chaotic states like the detonation of nuclear weapons.
There was, at least, a small consolation in this world, the possibility that magic could suppress such chain reactions through direct force, making control rods vastly more effective. Still, that possibility was not enough to justify the risk.
Unless this world independently uncovered the underlying physics of nuclear fission or fusion, Gustave intended to stay as far away from that form of energy as possible. Only if others gained a foothold in that knowledge would he commit himself fully to researching a magical equivalent of nuclear physics.
Until then, he would confine his work to the existing magic–science framework of this world.
So, after five days spent fully refining the steam-paddler locomotive and rail wagonway designs, integrating systems akin to solar panels and wind turbines so that the underlying principles of energy physics became a magic-equivalent system, Gustave finally completed the Power side of the design.
What remained was only the semi-spirit enchantment needed to defend against Dimeritium.
All the while, the underground parts of the city were being built into a testing ground for his inventions, concealed behind countless storage rooms for the populace to use and living quarters for the special magic soldiers of Lyria and Rivia.
The constant noise of construction broke his concentration from time to time, something he had to endure, and it made him realize why mages traditionally required their own magic towers. They needed spaces that were secure, quiet, and peaceful for research.
Not only that, but because his steampunk metropolis-divine kingdom was also used by his maids to conduct private discussions across long distances, he had no choice but to pause his work from time to time to allow these meetings to take place.
Unlike the spirits of deceased Twin Realms citizens who now inhabited the city, his maids were physical beings, not spirits. That was why he needed to oversee matters personally, or at least let them in, before he could continue his research.
Coupled with the fact that Ciri, brought along by Cerys, kept coming every four days to annoy him and whine about wanting to play together in Skellige, Gustave felt an impulse to turn his workshop into a fortified magic tower, just to shut himself away from it all.
But knowing that doing so would only distance him further from the outside world, he had no choice but to endure it. In the end, these constant interruptions shattered his concentration for nearly two weeks, stretching from the initial design phase to the final refinements, the last of which involved the semi-spirit transistors.
These semi-spirit transistors could do nothing on their own except serve as enchantments to defend against Dimeritium, unlike fully functioning computers, which could still perform basic calculations, even at the level of first-generation vacuum-tube machines.
As for why he chose them instead of neuron-like structures or direct manipulation of the Quintessence of spirits, it was because his creation was neither biological nor an ethereal entity, but a purely mechanical construct that operated through metal and earthly magic.
And considering that people on his Earth had managed to create thinking machines using nothing more than enchanted-stone equivalents, with one example being microchips produced through High-NA machines, essentially lathes operating at the nanometer scale using light rather than cutting tools, Gustave chose a similar path, though far less extreme.
He had no desire to create a true computer, something he worried Alvin might eventually hack. Instead, he limited the design to basic transistor functions, just enough to ensure resistance against Dimeritium and prevent a complete shutdown when bombarded, fully aware that bandits and enemies alike would attempt exactly that method.
All in all, it amounted to nothing more than transistors limited to simple on-and-off states, deliberately designed not to calculate or process data, but merely to spell out a crude sentence through black-and-white on-and-off contrasts, the words "f*ck yo mama."
Not a binary system capable of computation, nor a binary word-equivalent of zeros and ones, just a spelled-out phrase and a petty safeguard meant to mock any enemy who might one day get their hands on his creations.
Finished with the design, Gustave stretched comfortably in his chair, then stood and gathered the stack of schematics. For now, it was time to build this beast, a new kind of mechanical horse that could work twenty-four hours a day without rest, and a new kind of ship that required no wind to steer and could accelerate even further, something unique to Lyria and Rivia.
But he also knew that design, prototyping, and production were entirely different things altogether. Something that worked in theory could still encounter countless problems during prototyping when translated into reality.
Likewise, turning a prototype into full-scale production introduced its own challenges, governed by entirely different physics, constraints, and complications.
And considering that this part of the process was tedious and thankless, involving calculations far too dull for his tastes, Gustave decided to hand the work off to Zoltan and the artisans of the Twin Realms. So, once again heading upstairs to the aboveground part of the city, Gustave was suddenly stopped by Larkin, his personal intelligence agent.
"Your Highness, forgive me. Lady Yennefer is already furious that I delayed this document from reaching you any longer. With the immunity granted by Queen Calanthe for Lady Yennefer to serve as Cintra's court mage, I can no longer keep turning her away. Please forgive me, my lord, for disturbing your peace."
Seeing the stack of research papers requiring thankless and tedious calculations in the field of biology—far too dull for his tastes—Gustave couldn't help but smile through his pain, feeling it was karma for wanting to make his assistant do all the dull work for him.
But because he had already promised to act as Yennefer's correspondent, he had no choice but to shut himself away once again and tackle her tedious research, all the while grumbling that Regis was the only one among his benefactors who helped him without expecting anything in return.
After passing the notes and papers of his locomotive design to Larkin, instructing him to deliver them to Zoltan and the Twin Realms engineers, Gustave began spending the next two weeks solving all kinds of Yennefer's redundant problems—mostly in the field of biology, requiring heavy calculations in a bioinformatics sense.
This included tasks like computing the alignment of experimentally determined sequences for a class of related proteins—the same proteins that had been used in the creation of Dawnwalker back then.
Knowing that Yennefer intended to make Dawnwalker a viable option, much like a Witcher, Gustave couldn't help but sigh at the inevitable progression of her research, given that she already had a successful product.
Even though there would be many complications down the line in creating a new vampire race, he trusted that Yennefer and Regis would take Alzur's Witcher creation to heart, fully aware of the consequences of introducing this research into the world.
After finishing the thankless calculations for Yennefer, Gustave, rather than taking a break, decided to continue focused work on his personal RDBM 2.0.
Because his previous study of Living Armor had taught him a great deal about making retractable systems without compromising quality, Gustave was able to finish a working prototype of the RDBM 2.0 in just under a week.
It still lacked the vibranium-like effect of the Glyph of Reinforcement, but after another three weeks of effort, he had amplified it into a usable shield capable of redistributing 5% of kinetic energy into the air—not storing or absorbing it, but simply redirecting the impact to make blows feel lighter.
The reason he could only replicate the redistribution aspect of vibranium was that, unlike the modern science he knew on Earth, vibranium followed an entirely different set of principles, which Gustave suspected involved advanced stress–strain material science. Without the Glyph of Reinforcement, he likely would have been unable to create the effect at all.
Still, he considered the creation usable, because with the right technique, he knew he could amplify that redistribution to 70–80%, depending on his mastery of wielding the RDBM shield.
Just as a normal human—without being a trained athlete—can deliver ton-scale peak impact forces with a hammer or flail for milliseconds using proper technique, Gustave could amplify the shield's 5% redistribution to 70–80% if wielded correctly.
Much like Batman, who can strike heavy hitters like Bane despite being mortal; Captain America, who can go toe-to-toe with a Mad Titan; the Mad Titan himself, who can floor the Hulk; or a Witcher, who can face several-ton charging Fiends through mastery and technique, Gustave also needed to study how to use the RDBM properly to maximize its effectiveness.
Wanting to train with the Wolf Witchers, the best fighters around, Gustave picked up the gloves—already fitted with the bracelet Regis had given him—and put them on.
Pulling the mechanism—similar to an Assassin's Creed-style retractable system—to test the shield, he finally stepped out of his workshop after two months spent entirely focused on research and forging.
—