The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 161

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Academy’s Weapon Duplicator — Episode 161
Chapter 53: New Item (2)
Frontdier headed to Constellation Academy with Quinie.
Winter break had apparently already begun; there were scarcely any students around. Likely many teachers had stayed home as well.
The two of them were looking for the teacher Binkes. Even if today happened to be one of her days off, she would almost certainly be at the Academy. Her nature inclined toward research, and Constellation was the optimal place for her work—equipped with all her laboratories and fabrication facilities.
When they found Binkes’s Research Room, it was not she who greeted them.
“Oh? Frontdier, Quinie.”
There was the slightly flushed breath of someone still caught up in their work, hands and face smudged with grime, beads of sweat clinging to skin.
Edwin von Behertio stood in Binkes’s Research Room.
“Edwin.”
“What brings you two here?”
“And what brings you here, to the teacher’s Research Room?” Frontdier tilted his head, curious.
Edwin laughed and answered.
“Oh, I was formally hired as her assistant.”
“As Binkes’s assistant?”
“Yeah. This field overlaps a lot with my interests, and the teacher said she needed my help.”
Besides, there’s the debt I owe her. Edwin scratched his cheek sheepishly as he spoke.
‘……Hephaestus isn’t here,’ Frontdier thought.
Frontdier studied Edwin for a moment. He could no longer sense Hephaestus’s presence about him. Which meant that Edwin could no longer use Divine Power.
“I apologize. Because of me, your Divine Power……”
“Ah, so I was right? My intuition wasn’t off. It was you who separated Hephaestus from me.”
Oh. Frontdier felt a moment of confusion. Edwin hadn’t known that Frontdier had caused Hephaestus to withdraw. It was an unusual slip on his part.
“Even so, it’s fine. I’m grateful, if anything.”
“Grateful?”
“My head feels clearer now.”
Edwin’s face, as he said this, was clear as a bell.
“Before I met you, I was a textbook case of dejection. My house was in decline, my family had nothing to lean on but me, my abilities lacked the capital needed for immediate application. I was trapped in a situation where nothing aligned, and that made me anxious, impatient. As a result, I hurt even you and Ellin.”
“……That was the result of Hephaestus’s interference——”
“No.”
Edwin shook his head.
“That was me.”
“……”
“Look, Hephaestus might truly have goaded me. He might have fanned the flames of my inferiority and haste, directing me toward certain actions. But it was me who did it. Even if Hephaestus whispered something into my heart, the decision was mine.”
Edwin looked at his hands as he spoke.
“As proof—when I recall that day, my hands still tingle. Guilt keeps me from sleep. I wanted to run, to think it was all the god’s doing, that he manipulated me. But I couldn’t run. I know the truth. It’s a responsibility I can’t pass to another. My heart knows it. My trembling hands tell me.”
Edwin’s words carried self-reproach, yet the tone beneath them was coldly rational.
Quinie, who had been listening in silence, spoke.
“……The whisper of the devil.”
“What?”
“The one who overcomes is a hero; the one who is tempted is human; the one who surrenders guilt to the devil becomes a devil himself.”
Quinie recited it as though speaking an aphorism, then shrugged.
“Though, Edwin followed the god’s will rather than a devil’s, so perhaps it’s a bit different.”
As Frontdier observed Quinie, he paused to reflect.
Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t so different at all.
To Frontdier, who had come to sense something of what the gods in this world truly were, the meaning carried in Quinie’s aphorism struck differently than it might others.
Quinie continued.
“Edwin didn’t run. He couldn’t overcome the god’s interference, but at least he didn’t turn his eyes from that guilt. Not that it’s my place to judge, since I wasn’t directly involved.”
“I agree. As one of those directly involved.”
Hearing this from Quinie and Frontdier, Edwin smiled—a smile that carried both apology and gratitude.
“Thank you. So what brings you here? Business with the teacher?”
“Ah, actually, it’s because of this——”
Frontdier gave him a brief overview: he needed a new Artifact. Since Edwin had directly witnessed Frontdier using Heukcheon, there was no need to hide it from him.
Edwin fell into thought for a moment, then spoke.
“I see. The teacher could probably manage it. Whether she’ll agree to do it is another matter, though.”
Edwin laughed dryly. It was true—Binkes’s nature was unpredictable; whether she would readily craft an Artifact for them remained an open question.
“And you’d want to apply Security Magic to it, right? I’d appreciate it if you could handle that part.”
“Me?”
Edwin repeated in surprise, but both Frontdier and Quinie nodded.
This wasn’t a casual suggestion now that Edwin happened to be present; they had been thinking of him from the start. He was a genius in this field. Coincidence and divine intervention aside, Edwin had pierced through Binkes’s own Security Magic.
Though encountering Edwin here when they came to meet Binkes was unexpected, meeting both of them together turned out to be fortunate after all.
Edwin spoke in alarm.
“Perhaps we should hear the teacher’s explanation first,”
“I’m in favor.”
Someone cut off Edwin’s words and placed a hand on his head. It was Binkes.
The timing was so perfectly placed that Frontdier wondered if she’d been listening in secretly the whole time.
“I’ll help. That artifact looks fun.”
Binkes’s response was surprisingly positive.
Yet the playful glint in her eyes hadn’t gone anywhere.
“But there’s a condition.”
“A condition?”
“Come on.”
With that, Binkes strode ahead, leaving no room for further explanation.
Watching Binkes walk briskly along, Frontdier and Quinie shifted their gaze to Edwin. Edwin let out a soft laugh and gave a light nod. It meant ‘don’t worry, just come.’ He seemed to know what kind of condition Binkes was talking about.
The three followed Binkes, who led them deep into the Research Room and down the stairs to the lower level.
As Frontdier followed her down, he caught sight of where Binkes had stopped, and only then did he get a rough sense of what this “condition” was about.
“Here it is.”
Binkes spread her hand wide and pointed to the massive metal form laid out before them like a proud display.
“The Artzie Mk. 3!”
The colossal metal frame that Binkes introduced this way was now difficult to even call a golem. It bore graceful curves and refined ornamental patterns, and its joints and drive mechanisms were nearly as intricate and lifelike as human anatomy itself.
The only thing unchanged was the spear still mounted on its back.
Frontdier let out a hollow laugh at the staggering jump in quality.
“How much longer will my brother be used as a model?”
“Oh, this is the last one. Starting with the next model, I’m going to give them original names!”
Binkes puffed out her chest and spoke with genuine confidence. It was absurd to casually borrow someone else’s name like this. Then again—was this world operating under different rules?
“It’s refined quite a bit.”
“Right? This golem has become completely autonomous.”
“It wasn’t before?”
Frontdier tilted his head in confusion. When he first fought the golem that Edwin controlled, even during the midterm exam, the golem seemed to move quite autonomously.
Binkes wagged her finger and shook her head in agreement—a gesture that carried a hint of exasperation.
“No, no! The first golem I made responded only to the master’s will and commands. It wouldn’t move for anything else.”
Hearing this, Frontdier recalled the golem from back then. Now that she mentioned it, that earlier golem was operating on such simple programming that even Frontdier could sense it. That’s how he’d managed to win against it.
The one after that moved independently, but that was only possible because Hephaestus was controlling it directly.
“The golem I tested during midterms was something I operated myself. I added some automation to allow multiple golems to move simultaneously, but even that was only at a rudimentary level.”
“Multiple golems moving simultaneously….”
Frontdier paused to think.
Multiple units moving at once. That was certainly the impression during the midterm. The sheer number of golems felt threatening, yet their movements were more straightforward. He suspected that if he hadn’t had a crude weapon like Gram, capable of destroying a golem in one strike, it would have been quite difficult.
Multiple golems…, simultaneous attack, simplified actions.
…Multiple units.
“Actually, I have a question for you, Teacher.”
“Hmm?”
“Is the method of controlling those multiple golems something like—you see golems on a screen, trap them in a box or rectangle, and they’re all selected at once, then you click a designated target with a different button and they automatically attack?”
Frontdier raised his right hand to help explain, drawing a diagonal line with his finger. It was his attempt to represent a mouse drag.
Binkes’s eyes trembled visibly—as though struck by an earthquake.
“How—how did you know that? Are you hacking me? Did you hack into my system?”
“How could I possibly hack into your research materials, Professor? There must be enormous security measures in place.”
“Then how did he get in?”
Binkes pointed at Edwin with her finger. Edwin had nothing to say and looked away.
“…It’s not like I’m Edwin. I just thought it would be more efficient that way.”
“You picked that up just like that? Are you a genius? Are you a genius beyond me?”
Not at all. I just knew because I saw it first.
Frontdier felt a twinge of guilt and shifted the conversation slightly.
“So this new golem uses neither of those two methods?”
“Right. It’s fully autonomous, just like I said. It judges situations independently, protects its master, annihilates enemies, and assists with all sorts of chores the master desires.”
“…In other words, you don’t need to give it orders?”
“Exactly! Of course, if you do give it orders, it prioritizes following them. If an order would put the master in danger, it can refuse or circumvent the command. I made sure that part was airtight.”
Frontdier listened to Binkes’s near-boastful explanation and gazed at the golem.
Without realizing it, a thought spilled out as words.
“…At this level, as my ‘weapon’ it would be more than enough—”
“Huh? What?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s an excellent golem. So what is it you need me to do?”
At Frontdier’s question, Binkes grinned and walked briskly toward the golem. She pressed the power button connected to the golem, and with a click, the link disengaged—the golem’s eyes flared to life.
Thud-thud. The footsteps sent a chill down Frontdier’s spine. Though they were heavy sounds, their tone was far too human.
“Frontdier, you can use the Disarming Strike, can’t you?”
“…Yes.”
How did she know? Quinie and Edwin looked startled by his reply.
“The Disarming Strike? Really? You, Frontdier?”
“Yes. Though I can’t use it as freely as you do, I need to be prepared beforehand.”
“If you’re prepared? In the past few years, countless practitioners have tried to imitate that technique Artzie developed.”
At Quinie’s exclamation, Frontdier smiled wryly.
To be honest, the Disarming Strike depends heavily on innate talent. You need flexible muscles and joints, and they must be strong enough to support the technique.
And you have to grasp the subtleties of the Aura to some degree. Frontdier’s skill was far behind, but his body had a structure similar to Artzie’s—because they were brothers.
The reason Frontdier had succeeded almost by accident was partly because his first real attempt had been a life-or-death duel with Renzo, but mainly because he possessed the Weaving skill, which had given him enough embodied sense of how to manipulate Divine Power.
Without all these conditions in place, mastering it quickly would be impossible.
“All right. Then try using that Disarming Strike on this golem.”
“Pardon?”
At Frontdier’s question, Binkes smiled with satisfaction.
“I designed this golem so the Disarming Strike won’t work on it.”
“…I see.”
Binkes’s words kindled Frontdier’s curiosity.
If the golem’s very design could block the Disarming Strike, then enemies might be able to do the same. Knowing such possibilities in advance was vital.
“Go ahead. The golem will take a stance, so use the Disarming Strike properly. That’s the condition.”
“Quite the test, then.”
Binkes stepped back, and the golem drew a spear and took its stance. It looked terrifyingly ready to thrust the weapon forward, but it remained motionless.
Frontdier drew his short sword and lightly placed its tip against the spear’s point.
‘If it really does block the Disarming Strike, I’ll need to think of a counterattack.’
With that thought, Frontdier executed the Disarming Strike, and
Whoosh—
the golem’s spear flew through the air without a sound.
“…Huh?”
Frontdier tilted his head at the anticlimatic success of the technique.
Was there something more to come? But even as the spear fell to the floor, the golem remained still.
A malfunction? A bug? Frontdier’s eyes turned toward Binkes with questions. She’d explain, surely.
And Binkes’s explanation went like this:
“…Huh?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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