The steady clop of the monster boar's hooves resonated through the pink-emerald canopy surrounding the estate. The carriage swayed gently on the weathered cobblestone road as sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shifting golden patterns inside. Zafiro reclined against the plush seat, his tail swishing in slow, lazy arcs. His chromatic eyes sparkled with curiosity as he absently tapped his fingers against the reinforced window.

  "A train?" he asked, a gleeful grin lighting up his face. "Isn't that a dwarven and gnomish invention? How'd you even get your hands on those plans?"

  Across from him, Alexander let out a weary sigh and leaned back, his posture betraying more than a little fatigue. "Long story short. Let's just say their designs only helped a bit—speeding things up, mostly." A flicker of disappointment tightened his features as he recalled his shattered expectations: he'd anticipated a glorious, legendary locomotive deserving of songs and legends—crafted by master dwarves and gnomes, perhaps even infused with unicorn blood and rainbow farts for flair. Instead, he received a clunky contraption that reminded him of a crude Soviet-style locomotive, as if the poor Earthen engineer had been forced to design it under the shadow of a very sharp blade.

  Zafiro's ears flicked with excitement, all but glowing with anticipation. Without warning, he scooted closer, sliding onto the seat beside Alexander, their legs nearly touching. The air in the carriage suddenly felt warmer. Memories of a recent, uncomfortable moment in a cramped closet flickered through Alexander's mind, and he fought the urge to edge further away.

  "Oh, really?" Zafiro pressed, his voice lilting with the eagerness of a puppy who'd just discovered an unguarded cake. His dark chestnut-colored tail brushed against Alexander's snow-white, sending a jolt of awareness through them both. "And can you actually make it work?"

  Alexander's smirk mirrored Zafiro's curiosity, though he discreetly shifted to give himself breathing room. He was acutely aware of the lingering scents clinging to him—odors his fiancé would undoubtedly notice later and make him regret. "I've made some changes," he said, leaning away to maintain composure. "It should work. But it still needs a lot of refinement."

  "Tell me everything," Zafiro demanded, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. His voice broke slightly on the last word. He ignored Alexander's mild discomfort and took a deep breath, ready to absorb every bit of technical detail the Archmage Puppy could provide.

  Alexander glanced at the shifting patterns of sunlight playing across the carriage walls and steadied himself. Bringing Zafiro to Wolfsteeth wasn't just about showcasing his project and gaining trust—besides something else entirely. The official explanation might suffice for others, but Zafiro deserved the whole truth. Failing to be transparent could risk alienating someone whose support was critical—especially someone as brilliant and influential as the Count's son.

  "What I'm calling a train is more of a rough prototype," Alexander admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Essentially, it's like a sled with a rocket strapped to it and a slick, greased bottom. Sounds ridiculous, I know—but believe me, I think it will be the future." Alexander chose to bypass several traditional development steps, aiming to leap directly to a high-speed design in order to expedite the overall progress.

  Alexander opened his spatial pouch slightly, using mana to draw out a shimmering river of microscopic metallic shavings that danced gracefully in the air. With precise gestures, he shaped the particles into the form of a locomotive modeled after dwarven and gnomish designs. "Unlike theirs, we aimed for an aerodynamic shape," he explained as the sketch morphed fluidly. "The vents at the front allow air to flow in, cooling the engines mounted on the sides and top." The locomotive's image shifted again, showcasing the intricate details. "The engine is based on an older design of mine, made with manullium tubes arranged like a mana construct. Mana flows in one side, moves through the system… and then overheats almost instantly."

  Zafiro's inquisitive gaze flickered with curiosity. "Manullium? The metal that isolates mana?"

  "Very good," Alexander said with genuine admiration, impressed by Zafiro's understanding. "As you start learning to control mana in the coming days, let's see if you have what it takes to become a great artificer."

  With a graceful motion of his hand, the locomotive dissolved, transforming into a 3D representation of the engine, sliced in half to reveal its inner workings. "Manullium doesn't just isolate mana; it actively repels it. But there's a significant drawback," he explained as he conjured a water spell, letting the liquid flow through the tubes. "Imagine this water as mana, flowing seamlessly, linking together to form the propulsion construct needed to move the train."

  Alexander glanced at Zafiro, who was still intently focused on the contraption. The Count's son's eyes sparkled with curiosity, and Alexander recognized the look immediately. "Do you know how a spell is conjured?"

  Zafiro shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the display with a captivated intensity. "Not exactly—I just know you need to create a construct and chant," he said with a soft chuckle. "But I have a feeling you're about to tell me there's more to it, right?"

  Alexander sighed, genuinely impressed by Zafiro's theoretical understanding of a topic he had no way to experience practically. "You're not wrong, but that's exactly where the problem lies," he said, his tone tinged with resigned frustration. He expanded the 3D model, showing water flowing through the structure. "Look at this roughness along the walls. It's like a river creating eddies and whirls behind every rock." He gestured, and the water shifted, colliding where the uneven surfaces narrowed. "When the streams meet here, they collapse and form whirlpools."

  "When mana collides, it forms constructs," Alexander continued, noticing the rapt attention in Zafiro's expression. "This process happens everywhere in our world. With enough sensitivity in your [Mana Sense], you'll constantly start seeing constructs form and dissolve around you."

  Zafiro's eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Wouldn't that mean nature itself is conjuring spells?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and curiosity.

  Alexander smiled faintly, but his mind churned with a familiar frustration. Most students, including his disciple Ocilia, never seemed to grasp the importance of the fundamentals. They wanted to skip straight to the flashy, practical applications—spells that dazzled the eyes and struck with power. It was always about results, never the intricate mechanics that made those results possible.

  Magic wasn't just about what you could do with it. It was about understanding the deeper connections, the "why" and "how" behind every construct and every flow of mana. Yet, time and again, he encountered impatience. There was a dull glaze in their eyes when he delved into theory, and there were subtle sighs when he tried to explain the elegance of mana constructs forming and dissolving.

  'People rarely have the patience for the unseen forces,' he thought bitterly. 'It's always about what's tangible, what's immediate. They don't see that the deeper understanding is what makes those flashy applications possible in the first place.'

  The same was true for his mother, who taught Sarah. Only now was his fiancé beginning to understand how to break the rigid patterns of her skills, using fragments of them in new and creative ways. It was an arduous process, requiring relentless effort and patience to unlearn old habits and rebuild a more flexible approach. Yet, once mastered, it offered immense potential in martial arts—not through leveling up, but by redefining how she engaged with her abilities. It was a stark reminder that transformative progress often came from deconstructing and reshaping the basics, something many overlooked in their rush for immediate results.

  With those thoughts, Alexander felt a genuine satisfaction in teaching Zafiro, who leaned in eagerly, his curiosity palpable. "Close your eyes and listen," Alexander instructed, his tone calm yet commanding. He conjured a small whirlwind, just strong enough to create a faint breeze. His voice took on a melodic cadence as he recited the longest and most intricate chant he knew, his words weaving through the air like a song. The soft wind circled the carriage, brushing gently against their faces. "Open your eyes and tell me—did you notice anything?"

  Zafiro's eyes widened as a thoughtful smile spread across his face. "It reminds me of the sound wind makes when it weaves through narrow alleys, soft but with purpose."

  Alexander nodded thoughtfully. "Exactly," he said, dispelling the wind spell with a flick of his hand. "Spells are essentially observations of how mana behaves in the natural world. The more intricate ones are just clever combinations, carefully manipulated to achieve specific results. It may sound straightforward, but the complexity lies in understanding and controlling those interactions. For now, that should be enough for you to grasp the issue."

  "Spells are created within the engine itself, which is essentially a construct on its own," Zafiro murmured, realization dawning in his eyes. He leaned closer to the 3D representation, tracing the lines with his gaze. "That… means it's constantly forming and dissolving mana constructs inside?" He hesitated, his tail stilling as his mind pieced it together. "That… is problematic."

  Seeing Zafiro's understanding deepen, Alexander continued with a satisfied hum, dismissing most of the contraption until only the engine's inner walls remained, magnified as though under a microscope. "Manullium is a notoriously difficult metal to work with," he began, his voice steady but tinged with gravity. "Most of the constructs that form inside dissolve almost instantly. However, within the engine, thousands of these constructs are created every moment. The vibrations and sound from the engine's chant inevitably activate some of them, triggering smaller propulsion spells that flow chaotically through the tubes."

  Alexander paused, his brow furrowing. "This creates immense friction. If left unchecked, the heat generated from these uncontrolled interactions will melt the engine down in minutes. It's like controlling a storm in a bottle—every tiny misstep amplifies the chaos."

  As Zafiro studied the intricate design further, his brow furrowed, ears twitching. "Why not use steel for the inner walls instead of manullium? Isn't it more heat resistant and easier to work with?"

  Alexander's lips twitched into a faint smile. "An excellent question," he began, his tone warm but deliberate. "Steel might seem like an obvious choice, but it's notorious for being unreliable in artificing. Mana continuously seeps into the material, degrading it over time. It's like pouring water into a sieve—steel and mana don't mix."

  Zafiro's tail swished thoughtfully, his eyes lighting up with realization. "Ah," he said with a wide smile. "I get it now! You mentioned that manullium repels mana, which prevents it from seeping into the material. That must make it invaluable in artificing, especially since other metals struggle with that problem, right?"

  "Precisely," Alexander said, nodding approvingly. "You're catching on fast. Artificing isn't just about brute force or durability; it's about synergy between materials and magic. Manullium may be difficult to work with, but its unique properties make it invaluable for constructs like this."

  Alexander hesitated momentarily, his expression calm, but his mind was racing. He considered telling Zafiro the truth: that most artificers dismissed manullium as a worthless, impractical metal, good for little more than academic curiosity. But opening that door would mean diving into an entirely new debate, and he wasn't in the mood for tangents. Instead, he opted to leave it be for now, choosing his words carefully. "Manullium's quirks make it uniquely suited for this particular application, even if most people would overlook its potential," he thought, hoping Zafiro would focus on the creative solutions rather than the opinions of others, seeped with valuable but stagnant experience.

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  He paused, observing how Zafiro hung on his every word, his tail slowing as he processed the information. "I've managed to keep the engine running for an hour by combining forced airflow, water flow, heat transfer elements, and cooling enchantments," Alexander explained his tone a mix of pride and frustration. "But it's a patchwork solution at best. Now I understand why dwarves and gnomes tend to avoid direct mana-locomotive systems and prefer traditional mechanical engineering."

  Alexander gestured at the contraption's 3D representation. "The problem isn't just heat; it's the chain reaction caused by cooling enchantments. Half the time, trying to stabilize one issue triggers another—like conjuring a mini-blizzard inside the engine. That rapid contraction cracks the manullium, and we're back to square one." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Every fix seems to create a new disaster, but at least we're learning where the real weaknesses lie."

  Zafiro pursed his lips, his imagination conjuring catastrophic scenes of chaos and destruction. "Sounds… intense," he said, but a slight, intrigued smile began to bloom. "And, oddly enough, also fascinating. The potential behind all that chaos is hard to ignore."

  Alexander half-laughed and half-sighed as he dismissed the 3D representation of his engine, the shimmering image dissipating into nothingness. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he pushed the remaining components back into his spatial pouch. "That's just scratching the surface, I'm afraid," his tone carried a mix of weariness and reluctant pride, as though acknowledging both the ingenuity and flaws of his creation.

  "You're kidding," Zafiro muttered, his disbelief palpable as Alexander launched into the next segment of the project's woes.

  "I wish I were," Alexander replied, slumping back in his seat with a grimly amused expression. "Care to hear about how it actually moves?"

  Zafiro nodded, his tail waggling with an almost comical enthusiasm. "Of course," he said, his smile widening mischievously. "I am already excited to become your most talented—and, dare I say, favorite—student, dear teacher."

  Alexander smirked, his voice noticeably more relaxed as he stepped fully into his area of expertise. He dismissed the contraption with a flick of his hand. "When a train moves on tracks, it typically uses wheels to create friction against the rails to propel itself forward," he explained, glancing at Zafiro with a teasing look."

  "I understand clearly," Zafiro said with a confident smile, shaking his head. "I've studied natural sciences and engineering extensively—you don't need to worry about dumbing it down for me." His tone carried a playful hint of arrogance, but the genuine pride in his knowledge was unmistakable.

  Alexander nodded, continuing with a faint smile tinged with both pride and exasperation. "The friction problem is almost worse. We used enchantments to create a grease-like effect, eliminating most friction and allowing the train to glide on a single rail. The rail is thick enough to support the weight, and the bottom of the train is designed like a cylinder wrapping around it for stability. In theory, it's brilliant. In practice?" He let out a rueful chuckle. "Let's just say it's crashed so many times that my artisans now have their own dedicated ward at the Temple's infirmary. I've memorized Ludwig's and Ipe's schedule at this point."

  Alexander's eyes clouded with a mix of concern and reluctant humor as he recounted past accidents. "It accelerates way too quickly. We've had trains blast through walls in the test area or get so hot that the steel rail itself starts to warp and melt. And then there's the frictionless film—it sometimes lingers just a bit too long. When we try to brake, we either skid uncontrollably, careening like a drunken beast or stop so abruptly that the entire train flips. Once, it launched mid-air and crashed straight through the test facility's roof."

  He paused, running a hand down his face. "It was like watching my nightmare come to life—with a hefty price tag attached."

  Zafiro covered his mouth, his shoulders trembling as he fought to keep a straight face. "By the circle… that must have been... absolutely terrifying," he said, his tone laced with mock concern, though the glimmer of laughter in his eyes betrayed him.

  "Terrifying—and expensive," Alexander replied drily, ignoring Zafiro wanting to laugh. "Not to mention, I had to negotiate with the Temple and the healer union for all the limbs they had to fix and regrow. My artisans are resourceful, though. Each accident teaches us something new. They started placing frictionless constructs only on top, with brakes on the sides, so it's easier to maintain or replace damaged parts and break."

  Alexander shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk that carried equal parts amusement and exasperation. "To their credit, some of them even joked about starting a club called Alexander's Victims. Dark humor, but I suppose it's how they cope with all the chaos I've put them through."

  Zafiro's swishing tail paused as he absorbed all this new knowledge. His lips twitched, barely holding back a grin. "I can't decide whether to be horrified or amazed. So, you're juggling multiple disasters and somehow still charging ahead?" His tone carried a mix of mock solemnity and barely concealed amusement.

  "That's about right," Alexander said, his tone clipped but carrying an undercurrent of pride in his team's resilience. "And if that weren't enough, the infrastructure for a railway like this is a colossal undertaking. Maintaining it—especially out in the wilds."

  "Monsters, bandits, newly emerging rogue mages… they'll all see it as a fresh, shiny target," Zafiro guessed, an ear twitching thoughtfully.

  "Exactly. Elevated tracks mean we're exposed to bird-like monsters. Underground tunnels put us in the path of mole monsters, rock wyrms—you name it. There's no single perfect solution. We'd need robust mana barriers around the train while it's running, and we'd still have to constantly protect or repair the tracks. Not to mention building massive tunnels or bridging entire valleys, all of which cost a fortune and create easy sabotage points."

  "And yet," Zafiro said slowly, "I can tell you still think it's worth it."

  Alexander nodded, the faint lines of strain on his brow disappearing as excitement lit up his face. "It is worth it," he said, his voice gaining a renewed energy. "Once it's running—once these routes are secure—trade and supply lines will open up in ways we've never seen before. Travel times will be slashed, entire economies revitalized, and frontier cities will finally have access to resources they could only dream of."

  He leaned forward, his eyes less than an inch away from Zafiro's, blazing with passion. "This won't just reshape how we live; it will redefine what's possible," his voice rose, almost commanding. "Imagine connecting distant cities in hours instead of weeks. Imagine the growth, the innovation, the opportunities! This isn't just a project. It's a revolution!"

  Zafiro leaned back, crossing his arms with exaggerated flair, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah, so this is where I come in? You want me to convince those petty households that this isn't just some madman's delusion but a vision of brilliance they should be grateful to support?"

  A faint grin tugged at Alexander's lips as his posture shifted, increasing energy coursing into his voice. "I'm not exactly hurting for coin right now. The school project alone funds me well enough. But you—your position, your silver tongue—people listen when you speak. I need you to show them that this isn't the ramblings of a madman but the foundation of something revolutionary."

  Zafiro's jovial expression shifted, his chromatic eyes gleaming with subtle amusement as he leaned forward slightly, feigning contemplation. "I'll need to see the train myself," he said, his tone light but with a teasing lilt. "But it sounds like it's far from ready. So, tell me, what's the big hurry?"

  There was a subtle shift in the air inside the carriage, like a breeze turning cold and charged. Alexander's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as something snapped within him. "What's the big hurry? Why didn't I wait to start my charities, my school, and the increased help of the Temple? I've heard this question more times than I can count," he said, his voice low but edged with sharp intensity. "Everyone tells me to slow down, to take a break—but the people who suffer? They can't pause their pain, their hunger, their despair, just because I feel like taking it easy."

  Zafiro blinked, not expecting the sudden edge in Alexander's voice. "I—"

  But Alexander stood abruptly, fists clenched at his sides, the force of his movement making the carriage jostle and the horses whicker in protest. "You have no idea what it's like on the ground," he said, his voice low but thrumming with restrained emotion. His aura surged, filling the space with something raw and palpable—not killing intent, but a heavy weight of despair, pain, and unhealed scars. It pressed against Zafiro like a suffocating tide, the echoes of memories Alexander could never fully escape. "Day after day, I hear from students who can finally eat three meals or sleep without freezing through icy nights. They've found hope again. Do you even understand what it means to survive without a shred of that hope? To fight for every scrap of dignity, every sliver of possibility, in a world that seems intent on crushing you?"

  He stepped forward, the force of his presence making the cushions tremble and the walls rattle. His eyes blazed with a white-hot intensity that made Zafiro inch back. Sweat beaded on the carbuncle-kin's brow. "Alex, I—"

  "All I hear is 'slow down'—like I have the luxury." Alexander's voice shook, not with fear but with righteous fury. "People need help now, and the only people who can, who have the responsibility, the duty, would rather sleep in the sun—does this sound fair while those kids starve in despair? I take my responsibility seriously," his voice gained an edge, an arrogance that even made Zafiro gulp. "Is it because I am better? Because I am noble? Or because I simply have a heart? No matter the reason, I will not stand by and look them suffer because I need to crawl through your shitty laws, looking for loopholes."

  For a heartbeat, the air seemed to crackle, pulsing with his aura, thick with the weight of memories forged on the edge of survival. Zafiro froze, his chromatic eyes wide and uncertain, caught between awe and unease. The tension hung heavy like a blade poised to strike, sharp and unrelenting.

  Finally, Alexander exhaled shakily and let his aura dissipate. He sank back into his seat, shoulders sagging in remorse. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice subdued. "I didn't mean to explode at you. It's just… I want to help, and you can open doors that are closed to me."

  Zafiro swallowed hard, the tension draining from his taut muscles. "I get that," he said quietly, managing a small, nervous smile. "I do. And I want to help—honestly. Just prove to me the train works on some smaller scale, and I'll back you when you need me."

  Alexander forced a thin smile in return, nodding. "We can try it inside the city. After the military operation, it should be ready for a demonstration. You'll see how it can carry goods and passengers with your own eyes. Even if it's a clumsy prototype, you'll get the vision behind it."

  Zafiro's tail gave a tentative wag. "Deal." Then he eased forward, posture relaxing a bit. "Besides, I'd like to see more of your other projects, too—like that school of yours."

  Their conversation was cut short as the carriage lurched to a halt. A muffled command from the coachman drifted through the window. Outside, the northern district of Wolfsteeth sprawled across the horizon—a bustling patchwork of adobe buildings and milling city folk. The perpetual swirl of mild chaos enveloped them: vendors shouting over each other, small puppies weaving between market stalls, the metallic hiss of distant forges, and the sound of his students experimenting with their spells.

  Alexander glanced out, his expression turning pensive. "In that case, we'll do a tour later. You might find it more entertaining than your usual spy reports," he added wryly.

  Zafiro chuckled, his movements fluid and brimming with energy as he stepped down from the carriage. His chromatic eyes darted around with curiosity, even as his tail swished lightly behind him. His personal guards materialized at his side, their vigilance sharp and practiced, scanning the bustling crowd with hawk-like precision.

  Sarah hurried over, her steps brisk, as her worried gaze locked onto Zafiro. "Everything alright?" Her tone carried a mixture of relief and concern as she quickly assessed him, turning to Alexander—probably sensing the slight outburst.

  Alexander emerged next, ignoring Sarah's judging face. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp as they flicked across the lively district. His gaze lingered on potential escape routes, the bustling crowd, and the subtle movements of passersby. Slowly, his features hardened, a shadow crossing his face. "There's something else," he muttered, his voice low and edged with tension. The dangerous note in his tone made Zafiro immediately stiffen, his tail pausing mid-sway.

  "What is it?" Zafiro asked, turning. A hint of apprehension flickered in his chromatic eyes.

  Alexander dragged a hand through his hair, the corners of his mouth set in a grim line. "Since that first assassination attempt, I've been training my [Mana Sense] nonstop, scanning every person who comes near me. It helps me pick out skills that hide one's identity. And guess what I saw?"

  Zafiro opened his mouth to question him, but the words died on his tongue when Alexander extended one hand. Threads of mana coalesced into a small but dense earthen bullet, spinning in place, brimming with lethal energy.

  "We have a rat," Alexander said joyfully, pointing discreetly at the wolf-kin guard beside Zafiro. "His mana signature doesn't match his body. It's probably a [Mystic Skill]—clever, but not clever enough."

  Even before Zafiro could fully process Alexander's warning, Alexander snapped his fingers with a sharp, almost casual precision. "Good luck next time," he said, his voice cutting and cold. The bullet shot forward like a thunderclap, propelled by a vortex of tightly woven mana, slicing through the air with such force that it left a faint ripple in its wake.

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