Take a piece of metal out.

Carve it in the shape of gears,

And run my Mana through it.

That sounded like something even a child could do. And yet...

"Fucking dammit!" I threw another gear into the trash can.

Failure after failure after failure after failure after failure after failur—

"Oi, calm down now." Semier placed a hand on my shoulder. "Take it easy. You should take a brea—"

I looked back at the Archangel and narrowed my eyes. Brushing his hand off, I scoffed. "No. I'm so close!"

"...That's what you said a hundred tries ago."

"And I'm getting closer."

Semier simply shrugged and handed me a cup of coffee. "Whatever you say, Theodris. Don't actually smash my workshop though."

I focused back on my work and took out another piece of metal gear.

"Why don't you use something like Mithirl?"

No point in answering the question. Everyone knew that the highest-grade metal that Avaron allowed its students to use was merely Mana-reinforced Occallium alloy. Using Mithril would defeat the purpose of this.

The only reason why my scabbard was allowed was because it was, well, a scabbard. Accessories like the one I was trying to create had to adhere to the same restriction as weapons.

I took a deep breath and poured my Mana into the gear again. When I close my eyes, I could visualize the flow of Mana. It was like seeing rivers flowing in a predetermined path.

And it was my job to block that path and forge new ones.

I could feel Temporal Mana slowly flowing into my hand. This was it. If I could just gradually replace regular Mana with Temporal one, everything would be fine.

The problem was that I couldn't.

And the gear exploded in my face.

"FUCK—" I reached into the box to take out more gears again. But to my surprise, there were no more. "W-What? Wasn't there... five thousand?"

"And you blew them all up." Semier laughed. He slammed another box full of gears onto the table. "Don't beat yourself too much over this. Even Grandmasters have a hard time trying to do what you're doing. To make something heat up the entire body with just Temporal fluctuation alone... You're mad."

"But you said it's possible."

"Huh, I did."

"Then I'm doing it."

Because it would be the greatest gift ever for Sylvia.

Because I knew that however I tried to justify it, Glacia's death would infuriate the future Duchess.

So this "gift" would act as a disposable shield for me. I didn't know how effective it would be to cool Sylvia's rage down, but I had to try.

...

"H-Holy fucking shit, I did it!"

My tired eyes lit up in happiness as I looked at the bronze gear in my hands. Five days. Five. Fucking. Days. Fucking finally!

I clutched the gear closer to my chest and looked around, defending it from any potential snatchers. Once the coast was clear, I dropped the gear into [Alternate Storage].

For the first time in days, I stood up from the dusty old chair and removed my apron, which was colored black with soot. I stretched my arms and swept my hair back. 'Gonna need a shower after this. Can't have myself smell like shit. Let's just ask Semier where the bathroom is.'

But just as I opened the door to the tavern, I froze.

Semier was there, drinking whatever alcohol and laughing loudly.

Right beside him was Glacia, who was drinking what I hoped wasn't wine.

And with them... was a strange man. He looked as old as Semier, but I could tell that he was human. No, I was sure that he was human. After all...

"N-No way... Grandmaster Kivel?"

The same one that would become Arthur's future mentor. Why... Why was he here? He's supposed to be dead and then revived by Amelia!

The grandmaster turned to look at me. With a hearty laugh, he beckoned me over. "Haha, so you're her father. I'll have to thank her AND you. She practically saved my life!"

My eyes turned cold as I watched Glacia raise a mug at me and down the content; unaware of what the fuck she'd just done.

'I take my eyes off her for a few seconds and— grrr... That fucker needs to die!'