July 18, 1616 Central Calendar, 14:00

San Redentore District, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire

After finishing his morning shift in the Ancient Ministry, the Third Timeline generally presented Meteos Roguerider with three choices for post-work activities: he could return home, and do whatever he wanted; visit the headquarters of his family business and do whatever he wanted; or head to the designated location and wait for the masked men to bring him to the Order of the Ancients’ secret facility, so that he can do whatever he wanted. Since Monday limited his social options now that his friends were still stuck in school at the moment, Meteos’ time would be dominated by planning or discussing alongside the White Lotus affiliates regardless of his choice.

In the end, after texting Robin and Princess Lugiel so that they know where they can find him, Meteos rode on his skateboard to visit the Roguerider Foundation’s headquarters.

The receptionist smiled as the silver-haired boy walked up to the front desk, turning heads and eliciting greetings like a prince in this corporate kingdom that he is. “Welcome, Young Master! How may I be of service?”

“Is Father available?”

“Oh, yes, Master Roderick is currently in his office. May I announce your arrival?”

“Sure.”

Accustomed to the formalities, Meteos gave the receptionist a curt nod and bid her farewell without waiting, then made a beeline for the central elevators. He swore he could hear someone gush – at him specifically – behind his back as he walked, but that’s irrelevant so long as those adults can keep their manners. Or, they just haven’t seen his adorable younger siblings.

Reaching the floor where Roderick’s office was located, a sharp rap on the polished wooden door preceded his entrance. However, before Meteos could step further inside, a ceramic mud arced through the air coming from his side, spinning chaotically and hurtling straight for his face.

In an instant, Meteos stepped back and reacted with an outstretched right hand, channeling his mana to envelop the flying object in a faint blue light. The moment it crossed the invisible threshold of the magic he activated, its solid form seemed to disintegrate into particles, then rearrange itself in a startling display of control. One meter before impact, the mug dissolved entirely, transforming into a harmless sphere of water that Meteos kept suspended midair using his mana and gentle manipulation of his hands to keep it from dropping and staining anything. A satisfied grin spread across his face.

“I see no residual dust,” came the casual comment from Adonis, the culprit who was lounging on a couch to his side.

“Eldest Brother,” Meteos tilted his head. “I wasn’t aware you’re also here.”

“Meteos.”

“There you are, son. Come in!”

Turning to look at his father again, water still floating gently between his glowing hands, Meteos saw the man nod broadly with a smile adorning his face.

“Ah. This barely—” Meteos continued, only to be interrupted by the booming voice of a woman and the sound of the door being flung open.

“I AM HERE! WALKING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!!!”

“……Oh, please, march right in; I’m not concentrating or anything.”

It seemed that she came here on short notice.

The woman giggled unapologetically. “My, my. It seems like someone’s skill is getting sharper.”

Maintaining control over the water even with the outburst, Meteos let out a snort and channeled his mana again. With a flick of his wrists, the water sphere was once more enveloped in a blue glow as it shimmered and then vanished with a pop, replaced by a pocket of gas that dissipated harmlessly.

“Logical ruse?”

“Logical ruse. Make yourself comfortable, Meteos. Have you eaten yet?”

Meteos relaxed his stance and walked to the side, joining Adonis. “Already did.”

“Excellent,” Roderick nodded and turned to address the loud woman. “By the way, thank you for helping out with the act, Miss Novachrono, please come in.”

“With pleasure!”

The woman proceeded to place the document she carried on Roderick’s desk with a dramatic flourish, and with a smile that could disarm a lesser man, she strode over to the couch where Meteos and Adonis were seated, plopping herself down with a sigh. Meteos eyed the woman. The red hair spilling out from her beanie hat was vibrant, and the baggy clothes she wore did little to hide her tall and toned physique, something most ordinary office workers wouldn’t necessarily cultivate.

Militiades Novachrono by name, the woman was hired as a secretary just two months ago, but behind the official story was a solution thought up by Magister Sorath the Illuminator so that Meteos didn’t have to go back and forth between the Order’s base and the Roguerider Foundation where the White Lotus’ center of operations is taking place. This woman who had just declared her arrival with the panache of a conquering warlord and practically bodyslammed herself onto the couch was none other than Princess Lugiel Eldart Hollowrain, Imperial Lady of the Third Rank.

“So, Your Highness, enjoying your, uh, ‘secretarial life’?” the reincarnator couldn’t resist a teasing jab and raised his voice freely now that they were in a secure place.

The disguised elven prince conceded with an impish grin. “Honestly? It has its moments. But if Enepsigos and other Magisters can act unlike their original personalities, so must I, right? Surely, you have met Magister Tephras the Guardian.”

Both nodded.

“The Magister of the Heart, yes.”

“See? He is the closest person the Holy Empire has to a Pontifex Maximus of Parpaldia or the Divine King of Gahara, but what he is appearing in public as? A JANITOR!”

“…I mean, there’s nothing wrong with becoming a custodian of a building.”

“MY BOY, HE SCRUBS TOILETS!”

“………I forgot you can be this loud.”

Meteos cringed at the contrasting personalities between the two personas, yet a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Roderick could be heard stifling a laugh as he listened between his work of checking the papers. The Princess… really can act, eh?

And then, Meteos laid out another dry remark. “Your fans would have a meltdown if they knew the Rogueriders made their illustrious Princess spend her days impersonating a goofy office lady.”

“What was that?”

Adonis finally butted in from his spot on the couch. “So, are we quite done with our antics? Let’s not bother Father’s work any further.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Just do your thing. You’re here to relax, aren’t you?”

Meteos let out an exhausted breath now that everything settled down. The adrenaline from the surprise attack had finally faded, leaving him pleasantly drained. He slumped back onto the plush leather couch, basking in the air conditioning’s cool breeze that was a welcome comfort against the summer heat outside. Adonis continued to read the newspaper to his side, while Lugiel, having shed her dramatic persona with the ease of a seasoned performer, browsed through a noteboard in her hands.

He closed his eyes, letting the sounds of document shuffling and the ambiance lull him into a state of peaceful contemplation. It wouldn’t last long and he would have to check the ongoing plans, he knew, but despite the hectic schedule, it was gladdening to know that there were still comforting scenes of normalcy like this one.

…………

Meteos stirred on the plush couch and stretched, letting out a soft yawn before he finally cracked open an eye.

“…Alright… enough downtime,” he mumbled, but the only response was the rustle of papers from his father’s desk across the room. Glancing at his watch, 15:45 glared back. Right. Adonis must be fetching Kaios and friends from school by now.

Meteos unfurled his stiff limbs and ambled toward his father’s desk, seeing him still toiling away at the paperwork. “Still at it, Dad?”

“Ooh, my boy. I see you’ve done napping. Did you get a good rest?” Roderick snapped up at the sound and chuckled as soon as he noticed Meteos.

“Pretty much. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Roderick waved a dismissive hand. “Appreciate the offer, son, but I’ve got it under control for now.”

“I see, as expected of Dad. Then, do you mind if I take a peek at what the others are working on?”

Roderick’s warm smile grew wider. “Of course, Son, go ahead! I’ll give a holler when I’m finished.”

“Got it.”

Meteos bowed and made a decision to head for the restroom first, intending to give himself some refreshing face wash before diving into whatever the others were working on. He barely took a few steps out of his father’s office when a figure materialized in the hallway, effectively blocking his path.

Meteos sighed internally, muttering a resigned, “Legiel.”

The person in question, on the other hand, beamed. “Oh, hello there, Little Brother! Perfect timing, actually. I just finished finalizing a report, and well, this is something I thought you might be interested in a particularly juicy detail.”

Meteos crossed his arms and humored him. “Speak.”

“I’m speaking about the new fabrication plant the Foundation just finished building! After a long time of waiting, the first testing will be done in one week. Interesting enough for you, right?”

Scrunching his brows slowly in realization and understanding, Meteos clenched his jaw slightly. Before the advent of the Third Timeline, the prospect of achieving this specific feat in Ars Goetia would be close to an impossible pipe dream. But now, the completion of this facility meant at least one supporting infrastructure was finally in place. It was a step closer to bringing one of the greatest game changers gleaned from Attarsamain’s inherited memories to life. This ‘fabrication plant’ will not be like the usual ones in that the term ‘fabrication’ is used to conceal something capable of shaking the world with it.

“So, brimming with determination, aren’t we?” Legiel crooned, his hand gently rubbing Meteos’ shoulder.

At that moment, Meteos felt whatever sliver of good mood that he could muster in Legiel’s presence crumble into dust in an instant.

“Seeing how easily I get under your skin, I won’t spoil your moment any further.” Legiel withdrew his hand. “Well, I don’t care if you are going to despise me to your grave, doesn’t it feel good? Finally having something that might give you a minuscule fighting chance against the Game? Indeed, I reckon that the Audience will throw a fit if they ever discover about this.”

Meteos remained frowning under Legiel’s gaze, but a flicker of grim satisfaction and defiance danced in his eyes.

“Nevertheless, seeing someone as spiteful as you are refreshing. I doubt it will be of any use against the Will of the Audience, but who am I to judge? Just promise me no turbo-genocides, okay?”

‘What in the flying fuck is turbo-geno—’

“It’s the Audience’s favorite channel and the staple of the Civilization Annihilation Game, practically their primary source of drugs. To get drunk of it was why your gods sold your planet out. You… loathe to be their circus animal, don’t you?”

As Legiel walked past him with a laugh and disappeared into Roderick’s office, Meteos stood rooted to the spot for a moment.

“…As if I will suffer what your Audience expects from us Ars Goetians.”

Brushing Legiel’s taunts aside, Meteos barged into the restroom and splashed cold water on his face, letting the coolness seep into his burning irritation. Focusing on the good news at hand was paramount compared to humoring such bickering. However, if only Legiel wasn’t always there, retreading his progress up to this exact moment would be a much more pleasant trip down memory lane.

October 1615 Central Calendar – 10 Months Ago

They came surging in a similar vein to how the building blocks to reverse-engineer what will be known as the Illusion Magic: Temple of Heaven, responded to Meteos’ vague desire “to be able to convince people.” However, since he had a more defined aim to achieve, “recreating the rodanite and Attarsamain metal,” the inherited memories rewarded his eagerness to learn with the necessary parts to recreate another magic spell that once belonged to the Malakh civilization and its related technologies. The Temple of Heaven remained a personal tool for Meteos to keep any situation involving people in his favor, but for this one, as a magic spell to manipulate matter, at least the Roguerider Foundation must be able to industrialize its usage through magic technology.

To turn it into a groundbreaking reality, a large facility outwardly similar to a magic circuit fabrication plant was commissioned in the San Redentore District region. Ostensibly, it was a research facility, but what research would be conducted there was not what ordinary people would think.

Supporting this core project were two parallel developments with potential applications far beyond the current situation. Standard computers currently in the Holy Milishial Empire’s possession choked on the sheer complexity of this spell, so the Foundation’s researchers toiled away at developing new machines capable of handling a magic spell this powerful and difficult to comprehend. The second development aimed to basically replicate the Desire Driver, though they weren’t aware of its true nature. This involved creating compact, high-capacity energy cells to supply the immense mana required for the spell.

As a byproduct of their projects, the Foundation released in late 1615 the first “personal computer.” Possessing features that would become hallmarks of the Holy Empire’s personal computers, such as a built-in keyboard, monitor, and even slots for memory circuits for storage, this product sent ripples through the country and started the Era of Personal Computers.

❖⟐❖⟐❖

November 1615 Central Calendar – 9 Months Ago

Meteos christened the reverse-engineered spell Matter Transformation Magic: Overhaul, and seeing its versatility in action, he deemed it as one high-powered magic that he must possess in his arsenal and learned how to use it himself. However, like the Temple of Heaven, Overhaul required him and his brain to be supported by both the X Deviser and the Desire Driver to shortcut Overhaul’s impossible casting process and make it safe for work.

Overhaul utilizes advanced knowledge of atomic structures to manipulate matter on a fundamental level, capable of disassembling and then reassembling matter, it also allows the user to convert one type of material into another so long as they can visualize the very building blocks of matter in order to rearrange protons, neutrons, and electrons with lots of mana as fuel to achieve the desired transformation. In other words, Meteos found the theory part a piece of cake.

However, actually executing it is another matter entirely. Despite his wanting to see if he can transmute ferrum into aurum right off the bat, practicing the initial mastery level of using Overhaul as overseen by Legiel of all people necessitated him being able to disassemble matter and reassemble it into another form.

…………

“Can you turn this fistful of rock into a decent spearhead?”

Meteos scowled at the lump of obsidian lying innocuously on the snowy Training Ground. Beside him, Legiel leaned back against a nearby tree.

“Why does it have to be you?” Meteos grumbled. “Don’t you have something else to do?”

Legiel smiled. “Curiosity piqued my interest, that’s all. Besides, everyone worth their salt in the Foundation is neck-deep in indulging your… fantasies… in reviving the Land of Light’s magical technology to jumpstart this primitive planet. Oh, don’t get me wrong, they surely can if given time and effort, but… people are inevitably busy working.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault, then?” Meteos countered.

“Yes.”

The reincarnator bit back a retort. Legiel enjoyed poking holes in his grand pronouncements a little too much. He sighed, deciding not to waste any more energy on the argument. Focusing on the task at hand, Meteos closed his eyes and pictured the obsidian. He envisioned the tightly packed network of silicon dioxide molecules as the target’s building blocks. Taking a deep breath, he then focused on channeling his mana and reached out with his hands.

Hit by the brunt of the alien magic spell, the obsidian reacted with a sudden tremor, then with a sharp crack, exploded into a dozen jagged shards that hang suspended in midair around Meteos’ outstretched hands. A faint blue glow emanated from his palms and enveloped each one, the telltale sign of his mana being channeled.

Desiring the shards captured by his mana to take shape as intended, Meteos found himself wrestling with the cloud of obsidian fragments. Slowly, the shards began to respond, fusing together along their fractured edges, and a sleek spearhead began to materialize. After a tense minute of concentration, Meteos released his hold and let the warm obsidian spearhead fall into his hands. A faint sheen lingered on its surface, while a plume of faint black smoke wisped away from all around the creation, carrying away excess impurities burned off during the transformation process.

Stolen story; please report.

He needed some time to process it. He’d done it. He’d taken a lump of rock and, with sheer will and a hefty dose of mana, transformed it into an actually functional weapon.

“This is… Overhaul…”

“A promising start,” Legiel commented as he approached. “Compared to the overpowered victims from the Game’s many previous rounds before your first life, your current skill set might seem laughable. But hey, having a past life as a Grand Mage does have its perks, doesn’t it?”

Meteos narrowed his eyes, but in the end he simply readjusted the loose X Deviser on his right wrist and stalked off into the snowy landscape, leaving Legiel to his sardonic amusement.

❖⟐❖⟐❖

December 1615 Central Calendar – 8 Months Ago

The biting wind whipped at Meteos’ face as he stood in the Training Ground’s snow-covered clearing. It was barely four in the morning, and the world was still cloaked in a pre-dawn hush. It was perfect for him to practice Overhaul without interruption.

Compared to his initial efforts when casting Overhaul, Meteos’ control over the spell had grown considerably in such a short time. He could now manipulate smaller quantities of matter with greater precision while at the same time practicing with incrementally larger objects. As he honed his skills, the deconstructed matter no longer exploded into showers of shattered rough fragments; instead, the material disassembled cleanly into tiny particles before he manipulated them to take on another shape, even something artistic like a statue based on his imagination.

This time, he stood before a hefty pile of golden red stone (rutile) that he had prepared and hauled here by himself in preparation for his training, weighing a good 10 kilograms. Objective: create a pure gracium (titanium) out of it.

However, just as Meteos started to channel his mana and focus on the mineral’s molecular structure, a voice broke the stillness.

“Busy morning you have, I see.”

Meteos let out a misty, unimpressed sigh. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Legiel leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed in a picture of nonchalance.

“Safety and peace, Little Brother,” he waved.

“Your arrival just robbed me of both!” Meteos retorted, voice tight.

“What, can’t a man enjoy a brisk morning stroll? Come on, be honest with your feelings.”

“Hmph… If you think I’ll believe this is a coincidence, then you insult my intelligence.”

Legiel grinned.

“Alright, alright, truce for now. Don’t let little old me cramp your style. Besides,” he gestured toward the pile, “wouldn’t want your progress to stagnate, would we? Consider this my way of showing… support.”

Meteos glowered for a moment, then with a huff, turned back to the pile. Golden red stone is an oxide mineral composed of molecules you would know as titanium dioxide (TiO2). In order to create a pure gracium (Ti) out of it, he needed to separate the gracium atoms from the oxygen (O) atoms and then reassemble them in a new lattice structure specific to pure gracium.

This time, Meteos’ casting of Overhaul caused the golden red stone to disintegrate into a cloud of dust and countless tiny motes of light, waiting for him to sort through. Now with ease, he isolated the gracium atoms and discarded the oxygen atoms and other trace elements that weren’t part of the desired result with a mental flick, manifesting as a plume of white dust. The remaining ones, bathed in blue aura, swirled around his hands like a miniature metallic storm.

Finally, it condensed and solidified into a smooth metallic cube of a dull silver color roughly the size of his fist. From his estimations, this pure gracium cube should be around 4 kilograms in weight.

“This is getting interesting,” Meteos muttered to himself, examining his handiwork closely.

One of the intriguing aspects of Overhaul was its ability to manipulate even non-magic conductive materials like gracium. This defied conventional logic in the Holy Milishial Empire, where magic flowed and interacted most readily with materials imbued with inherent magical properties. However, since Overhaul wasn’t a magic that manipulates materials through magic conductivity, rather working on the subatomic particles that formed the atomic structure of any material themselves, Overhaul could essentially “reprogram” the material at its core, regardless of its magical conductivity. Naturally, by means of loads upon loads of mana.

Therefore, it would be best if the Holy Milishial Empire also paid attention to those so-called “junk ores” that everyone else in the magical civilization deemed useless.

Since Attarsamain magic spells are certified broken for Ars Goetia, Meteos is hardly surprised. But interested and curious about their potential and ramifications if he can replicate them? Certainly.

❖⟐❖⟐❖

January 1616 Central Calendar – 7 Months Ago

It was early into the new year, and Meteos stood again amidst a snowy clearing, his breath misting in the frigid air like a dying ember. Due to the demands on his time, Meteos found four o’clock in the morning to be an ideal time for him to practice his Matter Transformation Magic.

Once again, Legiel came out of the darkness and leaned on what seemed to be his favorite tree. “Safety and peace, Little Brother,” he greeted, but there was no answer.

“Oh, well…” Legiel shrugged.

Completely tuning him out, Meteos’ gaze was fixated on the ten kilograms of pure iron disk and a bucket of shimmering gold liquid sitting in front of him. This time, Meteos was going to use the bucket of Amrita, using its help in supplying mana for using Overhaul on the iron and pull off a feat of alchemy that Nadia was so fond of.

With both Drivers on the ready, Meteos first manipulated the Amrita to envelop the iron and keep it enveloped. Two distinct processes were about to be done at the same time, with Meteos using one hand to guide the deconstruction and the other for assembly.

The iron itself seemed to resist at first. It groaned under the invisible pressure, but Overhaul, aided further by Amrita’s potent mana, reached into the iron plate for a targeted disintegration. Each iron atom vibrated with an internal conflict, the bonds holding their constituent parts were willed by Meteos to rip apart. At the same time, the protons and neutrons he plucked were weaved into a new configuration. It felt like an agonizingly slow process, borderline impossible, like re-sculpting a sandcastle grain by grain under a rushing waterfall.

Sweat was beading on Meteos’ forehead despite the biting cold. His vision swam, his limbs trembled, and a wave of exhaustion threatened to pull him under. But in the end, at the same time as the Amrita lost its luster and turned back into ordinary water that quickly dissipated into steam, lay a misshapen blob of shiny metal in front of him.

“As expected from a reincarnated Grand Mage, your learning curve is starting to impress me,” the older Roguerider remarked with a hint of fondness in his voice. He approached Meteos, who slumped onto the snow and gasping for breath.

“To be able to pull off these sorts of things as easy as breathing…” Meteos mumbled. “The Malakh really was something else…”

Legiel crouched beside Meteos and hovered his hand over the result for a moment before a genuine smile spread across his face.

“This is pure gold. Every last glint,” he laughed, gently nudging the lump that used to be an iron plate. “A little… rough around the edges, perhaps, but the foundation is undeniably there. We can immediately melt this into gold bars, or with a bit more practice, you’ll be crafting intricate jewelry in no time.”

While Meteos was still regaining his breath, Legiel continued.

“Knowing your ambition, the possibilities are immense. Resources will become a trivial matter. You could already reshape landscapes, forge weapons and armor of unimaginable strength, and even create… well, anything, basically. But my question is… how does it feel to compress decades of training and become a master alchemist overnight? Bypassing years of study and toil with a mere flick of the wrist, thanks to Overhaul, you cheater?”

“Ha…” Meteos let out a humorless laugh. “I am not hearing this from you.”

“Haha, indeed, I suppose you and Amatsu-Mikaboshi are indeed more alike than you realize,” Legiel smiled unironically. As he stood up, he gave Meteos’ shoulder a light squeeze. “Well, at least you’re trying to master your gift to the fullest. There’s nothing wrong with that. Rest up, Little Brother. I’m looking forward to your next feat.”

With that, Legiel turned and vanished into the darkness, leaving Meteos alone with the lump of gold and a bitter laugh that continued to escape his lips. A human like him, fumbling with magic inherited from an alien power, had the misfortune of being pitted against a being like Legiel – the embodiment of Pestilence itself. Despair threatened to coil around his very being. What was he even doing?

The question echoed in the stillness. Closing his eyes, he felt that even through the haze of fatigue, a flicker of something refused to be extinguished. Maybe it was ego, but maybe it was Hope.

❖⟐❖⟐❖

May 1616 Central Calendar – 2 Months Ago

Legiel propped himself against a familiar tree and saw Meteos practicing again.

It was early Saturday morning on the same week as his group’s return from Cartalpas.

While he made Ace busy by hunting Minus Energy monsters that he conjured from time to time and harvested Hope from them, watching Meteos train had become a peculiar habit to pass the time while keeping an eye on the reincarnator. He’d witnessed Meteos’ progress with Overhaul, the way he manipulated matter on each mastery level with almost nonchalant ease after a very short time of fumbling and figuring out how to do it right.

There was a certain… irreverence, though, that Legiel found refreshing. He had anticipated the kid to place them on a pedestal and treat them as special. These were, after all, powerful spells from a bygone world. The Temple of Heaven and Overhaul were undeniably extraordinary. But Meteos simply absorbed them and integrated them into his ever-growing arsenal. In addition, Meteos, despite keeping Overhaul a secret, had been subtly applying what he learned on matter manipulation to help his girlfriend’s alchemy studies.

Perhaps it was the Grand Mage’s past life experience peeking through, a seasoned practitioner accustomed to wielding powerful magic, treating even them not as overly special but just like another tool. This was true, since as far as Meteos was concerned, while their forms are different, the nature of a guided missile and a cannon is the same: a tool for delivering firepower to an enemy. When he applied this rationale to magic spells, it made him an oddity among the mages.

This way of thinking is the reason why the inherited memories awarded him with how to create better tools by mentally breaking down objects or even magic spells he sees, then appear in Meteos’ imagination as a clear technological tree that he could follow to find the most ideal evolution he desired. Normally, this ability is a magic spell that must be activated, but as the one who gifted Meteos with the inherited memories, maybe it’s Amatsu-Mikaboshi’s doing, turning it into a passive ability that integrated with Meteos’ imagination.

In short, Meteos Roguerider actually has not two, but three overpowered Attarsamain magic in his repertoire already: Matter Transformation Magic: Overhaul, capable of manipulating matter; Illusion Magic: Temple of Heaven, for manipulating circumstances to be in his favor based on the concept of Common Destiny; and lastly, the very first thing that Meteos actually gained, Understanding in Seeing Others to Strengthen Oneself: All for One.

Legiel remembered that Meteos’ rebirth was a consequence of Amatsu-Mikaboshi’s plan to heal Astarte. The question is, just to what extent that Star God view Meteos Roguerider as a tool himself? That asspull-invoking bastard is quite a schemer himself, isn’t he?

…………

Meteos Roguerider is not a healing magic specialist.

He graduated in his first life by focusing on offensive magic, and in his later years, said offensive magic was honed further to become tailored for assassination. But after he encountered a cat with a broken leg which he Overhauled back to health on his way to the Training Ground, Meteos chuckled self-deprecatingly that not only he was a cheater alchemist, he was now also a cheater healer, thanks to the Matter Transformation Magic. At this rate, he can use Overhaul to cure deformities or give people facelifts without them having to go for plastic surgeries, thereby claiming the title of “cheater beauty magic specialist.”

At that moment, a thought wormed into his mind: if he could really do that—altering people’s faces—expanding the White Lotus’ ranks from criminals he recruited using the Temple of Heaven would be possible. Creating fake identities is not hard using the Foundation’s connections, and these criminals will be more useful to everyone than indulging in villainy or toiling away in prison. Hmm… should he tell Princess Lugiel to start importing prisoners from other countries by that time, then?

If he were utterly devoted to cold pragmatism, then that sort of thing is possible. But in the end, while it was a fun thought exercise, Meteos had restrictions that held him back.

The sweat glistening on his bare torso was a testament to the intense training session he’d just finished, despite it being early morning as usual and the air was crisp and cool against his skin. His discarded shirt and jacket hung limply on a nearby tree branch, pristine in contrast to his current state. With Legiel refusing to budge out of this clearing, Meteos had reluctantly worked on tolerating his presence, a task that sometimes felt as arduous as mastering Overhaul itself.

When Legiel tossed him a bottle of water, Meteos caught it with one hand, barely glancing up as he proceeded to chug down the contents in a single gulp. After he finished, he used Overhaul to disintegrate the empty bottle into dust without so much of a twitch of an eye.

“Good job, Little Brother. At this rate, you’ll be turning this planet’s ores into that precious Attarsamain metal you’ve been gunning in no time.”

Meteos wiped his mouth on his forearm, the water momentarily erasing the grime that coated his skin, and snorted.

“Now, if the Holy Empire manages to put Overhaul into practical use and start mass-producing Attarsamain metal… let’s just say not even Japan or any country from Earth in the same time period as them can stand a chance against you guys. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Hmph… unfortunate bunch…”

For Meteos’ part, he was almost unsure which one among them he referred to by that remark. Ars Goetia, the summoned countries, and even the Ravernal Empire, all of them are an unfortunate bunch in one way or another. All because the inevitable end of all things was turned into a competition to weed out ‘evil higher beings’ in the most collaterally damaging way possible.

“……Will they even be pulled into your mess in this new timeline?” Meteos wasn’t sure if he truly cared, but the curiosity gnawed at him nonetheless.

“Heh, why would I tell you that? So that you can half-ass your effort? No, no, that’s something you’ll just have to find out for yourself, Little Brother.”

Legiel had the gall to basically say “No Spoilers” and sauntered away with a laugh. Fine, Meteos will think of it instead as an incentive to prepare for the worst possible outcome by uplifting his homeland into the most overpowered country there is.

But on that day, Legiel’s favorite tree was finally disintegrated by a spiteful Meteos.

Present Day

July 24, 1616 Central Calendar

San Redentore District, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire

Today is the day.

Meteos, fists clenched and shoulders squared, took a fortifying breath before following his siblings into the new facility’s cavernous main chamber. Ten months of construction and preparation culminated in this moment – a chance for Meteos to showcase his burgeoning powers, to show what he had learned so far.

Dubbed “Cauldron Laguz,” this was the new facility that the Roguerider Foundation had been constructing for the past ten months. Dominating the vast chamber was a circular platform, encircled by a moat that separated it from the rest of the chamber. Four bridges placed in cardinal directions connected this central platform to an outer platform that encircled the moat. Overhead, a network of tracks and pulleys crisscrossed the ceiling. These carried carriages designed to transport vast quantities of materials down to the central platform necessary as the source material for the magic to be performed.

But looking around, one couldn’t help but notice the lack of other advanced technology. The main chamber was noticeably bare save for the magic lighting. The parallel developments of high-powered computers and compact energy cells, crucial for making a spell like Overhaul automated, were far from reaching the desired level. However, the chamber was built with expansion in mind, allowing for seamless integration of the computers and energy cells currently under development. While incapable of mass production in its current state, the Cauldron offered immediate usability by mages who wouldn’t have to wait for the technology to catch up. The Foundation could begin the experiments right away, utilizing the Amrita and the mages’ own brains for their magical workings.

And this time, accompanying him were a god, and the Four Horsemen; the best power sources he ever thought of. So instead of creating gold, Meteos opted for a grander experiment than mere gold creation. The moat was already filled with an abundant amount of Amrita, and as Meteos and his siblings finalized preparations, a team of workers scurried to unload iron ores into the central platform, while twenty supporting Manadriver-wielding mages, clad in the White Lotus’ black-and-gray double-breasted jackets and masks, assumed their positions along the outer platform. With their arrival and positioning of the iron ingots, the Cauldron Laguz was fully prepared.

A hush fell over the chamber as a tall mage with a noticeably feminine physique strode purposefully toward the group. Her voice, crisp and clear, announced that “Preparations are complete.”

Nodding to his siblings, Meteos turned to the mage. “Let’s confirm the procedure one last time,” he said, tone firm yet respectful. “The odd-numbered mages will focus on manipulating Amrita to create a continuous field around the iron ingots. The even-numbered mages will concentrate on maintaining the levitation of the ingots. This ensures minimal disruption while we, my siblings and I, focus on the transmutation itself.”

“Understood.”

The tall mage inclined her head and relayed the instructions to the assembled support team.

“Let us go too.”

“On it!”

With a final, lingering glance at the messenger, Meteos readied both his Drivers and led his siblings across the bridges and onto the central platform. After occupying a position on the central platform, the reincarnator raised his hand, and the chamber held its breath.

“Experiment… start.”

Across the moat, the support mages worked at the same time, levitating the source material while tendrils of Amrita erupted from the moat to weave a spherical cage around the iron ingots that connected with the vast reserves of mana-charged water below. When the Roguerider siblings reached out and channeled their mana, Meteos cast Overhaul.

As the iron writhed under the spell’s assault and began to break down, Meteos pushed with the outcome he visualized. Something beyond even adamantite, orichalcum, or even half-alien rodanite in its brilliance and inherent strength, Meteos desired a certain translucent green material that the inherited memories showed him in response to his desire and wanting him to recreate. Maintaining the spell and borrowing mana from his siblings, that very same sheen he envisioned began to form, yet it was as if the very fabric of reality resisted the formation of this unknown material.

‘There it is, it’s working!’ he exclaimed inwardly with widened eyes. To think he will be seeing it in the physical world after dreaming it for so long!

Across the moat, the supporting mages ensured that the Amrita continued to envelop the source material. But as Meteos pushed his will and the alien metal began to sluggishly take form, the globe of glittering water visibly dimmed and dissolved into steam, a sign that the mana it contained was visibly consumed to fuel the transmutation at an alarming rate.

“It’s… burning mana faster than expected…!” the tall mage from earlier exclaimed in concern. The reserves they prepared might not be enough to supply the process. “Redouble the efforts! Don’t let the flow cut off!”

In response, the moat churned visibly and tendrils of liquid writhed upwards to replace the thinning sphere that encased the transmuting iron.

“Dammit, I never feel this strained before!” someone maintaining the levitation grunted. A burly mage who was bending water to their side cackled.

“Oh, come on, you pussy! This is nothing!”

“Fuckin’ veteran mages…” they blurted under their breath.

“Just a little longer,” Meteos muttered through gritted teeth.

Adonis’ voice reminded him. “Focus on the transmutation itself. Leave the shape transformation for later. It’s alright for your first attempt.”

“You’re not aiming to be a perfectionist, aren’t you, Little Brother!?” Legiel quipped with a laugh.

Meteos forced a grunt of agreement to come out as he concentrated. This was indeed not the time to be picky. The alien metal he envisioned seemed closer now, a shimmering mirage just beyond his grasp. Time seemed to distort under the strain, and minutes stretched into an eternity as Overhaul wrestled with the alien metal’s formation.

“……Hm!?”

Instead of a triumphant glow or something, the end felt rather anticlimactic. At the end of the process, Meteos simply no longer feels any more iron to be Overhauled. And in its place, was a small, fist-sized chunk of… something. It glowed faintly with an ethereal green light in the same translucent shade Meteos had envisioned from the inherited memories. The elation was tempered slightly by the meager amount compared to the mountain of iron they’d fed into the process, but…

Meteos stared, transfixed, at the object levitating amidst the Amrita where the iron ingots once resided. He—no, they’d done it. The alien metal from his inherited memories had really materialized before him. They’d created something not supposed to exist on this planet.

Lost in his wonder, Meteos didn’t register the hushed silence that had fallen over the chamber. Ashera cleared her throat. “Lil’ Bro. It’s finished.”

No answer.

The elder sister grinned mischievously and sing-songed. “Oho? Brother~ you’re staring~”

“Hm……?”

“The process. It’s finished.”

It snapped Meteos out of his daze. A blush crept up his face as he realized how long he’d been staring. “Ah, yes! Yes, so it would seem,” he stammered, forcing a grin.

“The Cauldron Laguz’s first experiment… is a resounding success!”

A cheer erupted from the support mages. The tall mage, her posture still regal despite the ordeal, gave a command. “Excellent work, everyone. You all may stand down.”

With a sigh of relief, the mages on the outer platform deactivated their magic. The alien metal slowly descended towards the central platform, while the Amrita, no longer fueling Overhaul, was retracted back into the moat, which was now considerably drained of reserves.

While the rest of the siblings were basking in the cheers, a curious Meteos reached out with a tentative hand, hovering slightly above the new metal and feeling the heat it emanated.

“The shape might not be ideal,” he conceded, thinking it to be as ugly as a newborn troll, “but the color is exactly how I remembered it.” He gestured towards the glow emanating from the object under the light. “It’s breathtaking.”

From Attarsamain, 10.000 years ago, to Ars Goetia.

After all this celebration, there are still so many things to do. A fistful of metal won’t be enough to defend against the victims of the Civilization Annihilation Game. But as it turned out, this insignificant little planet managed to pull off such a feat.

That’s why…