Chapter 34: Chapter 34: Heavy Gravity and Magnetic Rails

The darkness in Bakasa’s Military Sector felt thicker, as if the shadows themselves possessed a weight capable of crushing the breath from one’s lungs. Unlike the clamorous Slum District, this area was a silent labyrinth of steel and granite—the place where Count Alaric stored the “fangs” of his power.

Dayat crept along the shadows of a massive, softly hissing steam pipe. Beside him, Dola moved with a silence impossible for a normal human. Her new blue gown had been modified; she had added a light-absorbent layer to its surface, allowing her to practically dissolve into the total darkness.

“Security status?” Dayat whispered, his voice nearly buried by the distant hum of machinery.

Dola’s eyes flickered with a dim blue light. “Three passive Mana sensors ahead have been neutralized via signal loop injection. Guard patrols are in Sector B, 300 meters away. We have a seven-minute window before the next scanning cycle begins.”

Dayat nodded. His bandaged hand felt steadier now, even as a constant, warm pulse of purple energy flowed toward Dola, recharging his “wife’s” batteries through their physical proximity.

“First target: The Electro-Magic Component Warehouse,” Dola continued. “We cannot manifest the Railgun in its entirety in a single burst of energy. Your brain will not be able to handle the simultaneous data load of magnetic synchronization and hypersonic acceleration. We must build it in stages.”

They reached a heavy iron door embossed with a golden serpent—the crest of the Viperion family. Dola pressed her palm against the lock panel. A moment later, the circuits within the panel groaned, and the door hissed open with a faint puff of steam.

Inside the warehouse, crates of high-quality mana crystals and coils of silver wire were stacked neatly. Dayat walked to the center of the room and took a deep breath.

“Dola, transmit the data for the High-Voltage Capacitors and the Accelerator Rails,” Dayat commanded.

“Commencing transmission. Master, focus on the density of the conductor material. Do not allow any air gaps within the Manifestation.”

ZING!

Dayat closed his eyes. His mind was instantly flooded with complex geometric structures. He saw thousands of microscopic foil sheets rolled into capacitors and two long metallic rails that required absolute straightness down to the micron scale.

“Manifestation…” Dayat hissed.

A burst of purple-gold aura exploded from his palms, enveloping an empty table in front of him. A painful, high-pitched whine rang out as air atoms were forced to coalesce into solid matter.

Slowly, two meter-long, shimmering black metal bars appeared. Beside them, boxes of futuristic electronic components formed—technology that looked utterly alien in this fantasy world. Dayat staggered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Cold sweat drenched his shirt.

“Two electromagnetic rails and the capacitor system… finished,” Dayat muttered. He touched the rails; they were cold and impossibly smooth.

“Structural integrity: 96%,” Dola inspected the components. “Sufficient for the initial stage. However, the primary issue remains: we need a main barrel made of pure Mithril so these rails do not warp when subjected to millions of amperes of your energy. That Mithril is in the deepest bunker beneath us.”

Dayat was about to respond when Dola suddenly grabbed his shoulder with a violent yank.

“Master! Get down!”

CRASH!

The concrete floor in front of them suddenly cracked and buckled downward, as if an invisible giant had stepped on it. Dayat fell, but he felt his body suddenly become as heavy as a ton. He couldn’t lift his arms. His chest felt as though it were being crushed by a massive boulder.

“W-what… is this…” Dayat gasped, struggling to inhale air that had suddenly become incredibly dense.

At the warehouse entrance, a man stepped inside calmly. He wore a steel-gray military cloak with gold insignias on his shoulders. His face was hard, scarred by a vertical mark that ran across his blind right eye. In his left hand, he held a short blackwood staff radiating an oppressive, deep purple aura.

Gravion. The elite Military Mage guarding Alaric’s vault.

“Infiltrating a Viperion warehouse just to forge iron toys?” Gravion’s voice was heavy and commanding, echoing in the room that now felt like a vacuum. “You have great courage, or perhaps you are simply fools.”

Gravion struck his staff against the floor.

THUD!

The gravitational pressure around Dayat doubled. He cried out in pain as his ribs began to creak.

“Master!” Dola tried to lunged at Gravion, but her movements slowed. Her synthetic legs groaned loudly, straining under a body weight that now felt like hundreds of kilograms.

Gravion stared at Dola with his one good eye, looking surprised. “A woman who can move under 5-G pressure? You are no ordinary human, are you?”

Dola didn’t answer. Her blue eyes turned a sharp, piercing red. She forced her hydraulic systems to operate at 120% capacity, causing steam to hiss from the seams of her bodysuit as she overheated.

“Power Analysis: Vector-Based Gravity Manipulation,” Dola’s voice sounded distorted. “Master Dayat… I will… disrupt his focus. Master… take the Mithril in crate number 07… NOW!”

Dola shot forward with a speed that startled Gravion. She didn’t throw a punch; instead, she slammed her shoulder into him to break the mage’s concentration.

Gravion raised his hand. “Take flight.”

Instantly, the gravity beneath Dola’s feet vanished, replaced by an extreme upward thrust. She was launched into the ceiling.

BOOM!

Seizing the opening, Dayat crawled with agonizing effort toward crate 07, just two meters away. Every inch felt like climbing a mountain with a backpack full of stones.

“Manifestation… Anti-Gravity Springs!” Dayat screamed impulsively.

Not a weapon, but a pair of boot-like devices with purple Mana springs appeared on his feet. The devices released a downward thrust to counter Gravion’s pressure.

Dayat managed to stand. He kicked the lid off crate 07. Inside lay three bars of pure silver metal that radiated a cool, soothing light. Mithril.

Dayat snatched the Mithril bars and shoved them into his storage bag.

“How dare you touch the Count’s property,” Gravion spun his staff. “Feel the weight of your sins!”

Gravion clenched his fist. Everything in the warehouse—crates, scrap metal, even heavy shelves—lifted into the air, then hurtled toward Dayat like a meteor shower of steel.

“DOLA!”

Dola, having just fallen from the ceiling, saw the threat. She couldn’t reach Dayat in time.

“Defense Mode: Magnetic Pulse!”

Dola released an electromagnetic wave from her core. The metal objects thrown by Gravion jolted, their trajectories veering off course to slam into the walls around Dayat, kicking up a massive cloud of dust.

In the thick of the dust, Dayat and Dola grabbed each other’s hands.

“We got the Mithril! Let’s get out of here, Dol!”

“Calculating fastest route… Steam vent at three o’clock! Jump, Master!”

Dayat and Dola leapt into a large, open steam pipe. Gravion roared, trying to pull them back with his gravity, but Dayat released a manifested emergency Flashbang that blinded the entire room.

“ARGH! My eyes!”

When the light faded, the warehouse was empty. All that remained were wisps of purple smoke and the smell of scorched iron.

Gravion stood amidst the ruins of his warehouse, his breathing steady but his anger evident in the trembling of his staff. He looked toward the table where Dayat had performed his Manifestation. A remnant of a metal rail remained.

Gravion touched the metal. Cold. Precise. And containing an energy he didn’t recognize.

“That engineer… he creates matter from nothing,” Gravion murmured. “This isn’t ordinary magic. Alaric must know… this threat is no longer about theft. This is the beginning of the end for mages.”

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