The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 162

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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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Academy Weapon Replicator Episode 162
Chapter 53: New Specimen (3)
Binkis conducted several brief checks. He was verifying whether the Disarming Strike defense function had been omitted.
Yet despite this, Frontdier executed the Disarming Strike flawlessly.
Binkis’s face fell, dimmed by disappointment.
Feeling unwarranted guilt, Frontdier reconsidered the Disarming Strike he had just performed.
“Um… sir.”
“What is it?”
With his face still sagging, Binkis replied.
“There was a sense that it felt heavier than other times.”
“Really? Is that so?”
Binkis’s eyes immediately brightened with life.
Frontdier hadn’t been lying. There had indeed been a sensation of some resistance to the Disarming Strike—when attempting to deploy it, he’d felt a certain pushback.
Yet that resistance was so infinitesimal that the heaviness, measured in grams, amounted to mere fractions. It was the kind of faint force one could only detect through multiple repeated attempts.
Of course, Frontdier kept this observation to himself.
“The direction doesn’t seem wrong, so how about refining it from here?”
“Yes, yes! I wasn’t mistaken!”
Binkis immediately regained his spirit. The prospect of room for improvement was a good thing.
Though the path to that improvement would be long and arduous.
“Thanks for helping with the test. Now it’s my turn.”
Binkis placed both arms at his hips as he spoke. Frontdier and Quinie nodded in agreement.
“But when I heard what you said earlier, I was thinking…”
Binkis tilted his head, seeming genuinely perplexed.
“According to the explanation, shouldn’t the necklace be broken? You’re putting a considerable amount of liquid into it.”
“…Yes, that’s correct.”
As Binkis said, the quantity of Heukcheon he would be pouring in this time was likely to be incomparably vast compared to before.
Though he hadn’t mentioned it to the three here, Esther had described it as a “lake.” Even allowing for exaggeration, it was clear as day what would happen if they thoughtlessly shattered the necklace.
“That’s why I’m struggling with this too. I’d like both functions to work smoothly—being able to extract only the desired amount of liquid, and if necessary, being able to extract everything at once.”
In ordinary circumstances, extracting a certain quantity would suffice, but in a true emergency, all the Heukcheon might be needed. Moreover, if it’s an emergency, there’s no time to extract it slowly.
In other words, controlling the liquid’s output is certainly important, but it’s difficult to abandon the method of breaking the necklace as we’ve done until now.
After a moment of thought upon hearing Frontdier’s words, Binkis spoke.
“Then we’d need one more artifact.”
“One more?”
“Right. One necklace for extracting everything at once, and another artifact for controlling the amount. You said that necklace was called Heukryeon? That was originally made to be destroyed, wasn’t it? Trying to add control functions while maintaining that purpose is impossible. It’s a jewel in the first place.”
“I see. Another artifact…”
He had thought all the functions would fit inside Heukryeon, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case.
Somehow, the work kept expanding. They’d already crossed beyond the realm of mere “refinement.”
“What kind of artifact would work, then?”
“Well, for it to be usable anytime, it needs to be worn. It needs sufficient space to output the liquid, and it should be connected to the necklace via mana, so ideally it would be positioned somewhere close by.”
Upon Binkis’s words, Frontdier fell into thought. He surveyed the Workshop briefly, checking the items he had stored there so far.
But finding something that fit those conditions so perfectly was—
‘…I have one.’
He found it. The moment it came to him, Frontdier’s memory stirred back to life.
Elody’s armband.
An artifact designed to regulate Elody’s uncontrollable power. Originally, Elody used this armband to prevent mana beyond a certain threshold from being consumed. The excess mana produced when casting magic is stored in the armband.
If he could modify this artifact to store Heukcheon instead of mana—
“I’ve thought of something.”
“Oh? What is it? What kind of function does the artifact have?”
In response to Binkis’s question, Frontdier explained the armband that Elody had been wearing.
After hearing the explanation, Binkis looked at Edwin.
“…If someone can work with Bipahgang metal at that level of quality, it seems like a Hitchcock company product.”
“It does seem that way.”
Edwin also affirmed it. And Frontdier thought the same.
It was probably Lebet, Elody’s brother, who gave her the armband. Given how much he doted on his younger sister, he would surely have gifted her the finest item made with Bipahgang.
“What do you think? If that armband could hold Heukcheon instead of mana?”
“Hmm, the idea isn’t bad, but Hitchcock is managed very strictly with all manner of security. The blueprints too.”
Binkis tilted his head uncomfortably.
The company Hitchcock was famous for strict secrecy, so outsiders had no knowledge of how the company’s technology and designs were developed. There had been all manner of attempts at leaks, but every one had failed.
Quinie asked.
“It doesn’t have to be exactly that product, does it? Now that we’ve grasped the concept, couldn’t we simply make an armband ourselves and add the functions?”
“Well, that’s true enough.”
Binkis nodded to Quinie’s words, yet something in his expression seemed unsatisfied.
As Quinie tilted her head with a questioning look, Edwin beside her offered a wry smile and spoke.
“The professor wants to see Hitchcock’s work. Since we’ve already made something, he hates the thought it might be inferior.”
“Hates it? If we can make something better, isn’t it right to try? That armband you mentioned—the one that belongs to Elody—could I have a quick look at it?”
“You won’t know much from just appearances. Not unless you take it apart.”
“What if I promised to reassemble it afterward? Would she get upset?”
“Hmm, Elody’s quite easygoing, so she probably wouldn’t mind. But if the reassembly fails…”
“If it fails?”
“Then we might have to deal with Elody’s rampage—she can’t control her output well without the armband working properly.”
“Yikes.”
Binkis, Edwin, and Quinie exchanged views, debating which approach would work best.
Quinie pushed for abandoning the idea and creating an original design from scratch, while Binkis couldn’t let go of his fascination with Hitchcock’s product, and the two traded arguments back and forth.
……Meanwhile.
Frontdier had something he genuinely needed to say, but found it terribly difficult to speak, so he rolled his eyes restlessly.
“Um, Professor Binkis.”
Sensing the conversation between the three was beginning to wane, Frontdier opened his mouth.
“Yeah, what?”
“I was wondering…”
“Wondering what?”
“What if I said I could draw up the schematics for that armband?”
Three pairs of eyes widened in unison, fixing on Frontdier as he spoke.
Watching their reaction, Frontdier let out an awkward laugh.
“Would that count as a breach of confidentiality as well?”

* * *
Some time passed.
“Tadah! I’m here, Frontdier!”
Saiber appeared at the entrance to the Research Lab with a bright smile.
“You should greet the professor first, kid.”
“Oh, my apologies. Good day, Professor Binkis.”
Saiber quickly bowed with proper courtesy.
Behind him, his father Daud Forte emerged into view.
“Hmm, nothing’s changed here, it seems.”
Daud swept his gaze across the Research Lab, his expression still as stern as ever.
Binkis let out a sigh and spoke.
“Daud, when you visit, you should greet people first too.”
“Hey there, Binkis. Been a while.”
Daud raised one hand in greeting—a gesture that, if it went slightly wrong, could’ve looked like something a thug would do. Yet Binkis and Daud seemed to share a genuine rapport.
Frontdier was inwardly curious about their relationship, but he bowed deeply to Daud first.
“It’s been a long time, sir.”
“Hmph, you little schemer. You’re using me as an excuse just to see my daughter, aren’t you? Did you think I wouldn’t see through that?”
“Dad! That’s not it!”
Daud’s words were cut off by Saiber’s cry.
‘Then why did you bring her along if that’s what you think?’
Frontdier had only called for Daud in the first place. It was Daud who’d brought Saiber with him.
“So, what do you need me to do?”
Daud asked Binkis.
“I’ll show you what now.”
“What exactly?”
Rather than answering, Binkis simply walked toward a certain device and made a peculiar gesture before it. The central floor suddenly glowed with a resonant hum.
“Come on, Frontdier. Stand in front of where the light is.”
Frontdier moved to stand before the glowing area of the floor as Binkis instructed.
“In that space—inside the luminous region—you can draw lines using Mana. The lines themselves have no effect; they’re just visible to the eye. It’s a device for drawing schematics in three dimensions.”
Frontdier nodded and, trying it out, extended his hand and traced patterns through the air using Mana. The stream of Mana that flowed from his fingertips drew itself visibly in the empty space, neither falling nor fading—it remained perfectly suspended in the air.
“Erasing works the same way as drawing, just withdraw the Mana instead. It’ll feel confusing at first, but you’ll get used to it soon.”
“I understand.”
“Frontdier, are you good at drawing?”
“…I’m not sure.”
“That’s fine. As long as you can draw the schematics, even if it’s a bit rough, I’ll be able to understand it. I have a solid grasp of Mana Machine structure, after all.”
Frontdier nodded.
Saiber, who had been watching quietly, spoke up.
“So… you’re drawing a three-dimensional blueprint right here, right now? Frontdier is?”
“Yes.”
“The blueprints?”
“They’re in my head.”
At Quinie’s answer, Saiber’s expression shifted strangely—though in truth, most people’s faces had done much the same.
‘Drawing a three-dimensional blueprint is difficult even when you’re looking at the plans. How could anyone render it from memory alone?’
Binkis found it equally hard to believe.
Frontdier had asked them to bring along a mana machine technician to observe, and they’d agreed, but no matter how he thought about it, the task seemed impossibly difficult.
If not for his trust in Frontdier and the quiet confidence visible beneath that composed expression, he would have abandoned this endeavor long ago.
‘Well then.’
Frontdier reached out his hand.
His Weaving transforms objects into images and draws them into the Workshop.
As Frontdier had confirmed before in the Library, the Workshop’s image perfectly aligns with its actual structure. That is why the replicated weapons possess the characteristics of their originals.
Naturally, Frontdier could see that structure—the perfect cross-section of any object.
Frontdier brought the cross-section of the armband that Elody used into view before his eyes.
‘I can’t draw pictures, but.’
This wasn’t drawing.
It was merely tracing along visible lines—a task even a child could manage.
Slowly, Frontdier’s hand began to move.
“This can’t be right.”
As the three-dimensional blueprint gradually took form in Frontdier’s hand, Binkis exhaled sharply.
It was astounding enough that he drew the blueprint from nothing at all, but what truly amazed him was the manner of his drawing.
‘He’s insane. Looking at the order in which he draws—I see it now. He’s remembering everything with perfect clarity.’
Frontdier ignored every foundational principle of blueprint design as he drew. There was no distinction between the core that serves as the basis and the periphery, no separation between base plate and components.
He would sketch the exterior design, then abruptly shift to a component; work on a component, then suddenly move to the circuitry.
He simply drew as he remembered. Drawing in such a manner would normally cause the blueprint itself to collapse within moments. Misalignments in spacing, length, and size between parts would inevitably occur somewhere.
Yet none of that happened. Despite the chaotic order of his work, the blueprint advanced with remarkable precision toward completion.
“Wow, that’s amazing. Right, Father? Father, are you watching?”
“Yes, I’m watching.”
Responding to his daughter’s urging, Daud found himself drifting into memory.
‘So that time truly was no coincidence.’
Daud had seen something like this before—when Frontdier drew the magic circle in the clearing in front of his house.
Even then, Frontdier had been this way. He had ignored every order and rule required to draw the magic circle correctly. Yet the form of the circle had been flawless.
Now he faced an even more difficult task: a three-dimensional blueprint. And yet Frontdier’s expression betrayed no strain whatsoever.
“…Frontdier.”
Edwin, who had been watching silently, called to him.
“Yes?”
“Is that Divine Power, by any chance?”
At the question, which carried a hint of jest, Frontdier smiled.
Edwin’s first question when they had met, colored as it was with inferiority, had been much like this. Yet the meaning behind it now was entirely different.
Because of that, Frontdier offered a different answer than something like “It’s a secret.”
“No.”
Because Edwin had moved beyond his inferiority, Frontdier could smile and answer.
“I have no such thing as Divine Power.”

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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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