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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Chaos
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Black Obsidian.
Once a cursed heirloom of House Sigmund, it was now restored to its intended form: the Guide of Emotions, a holy sword capable of converting emotions into power.
The dwarves, however, decided to lend the sword, a symbol of Dagran, to the Imperial Academy for three years.
After all, it was Edgar Fix who had refined the cursed blade into a holy sword, and the Blacksmith of Salvation wished to share its history with the academy.
Furthermore, the sword’s ownership was still contested.
While Reina had wielded it for nine years, House Sigmund’s claim spanned 27.
“We will forge a new one!”
The dwarves offered to create a new sword for House Sigmund, one that replicated Black Obsidian’s properties without its detrimental effects.
“So, it has come to this.”
Count Sigmund accepted their offer.
After his son’s grave transgression, he had little choice.
“A new sword…”
The offer to replicate Black Obsidian’s properties was appealing.
It offered a glimmer of hope for House Sigmund’s resurgence.
“My useless son…”
But for House Sigmund to rise again, Max had to recover.
His eldest son, perfect in every way, had perished in the Great War seven years prior.
Max was his only remaining heir.
“……”
Max, however, was broken.
Expelled from the academy after his defeat by Ed, he had become a recluse, shutting himself away in his room.
“Sigh…”
Count Sigmund sighed.
Had he failed as a father?
But Max was a delinquent by nature.
He had to be disciplined, even if it meant using harsh methods.
“Why do you learn nothing from pain…?”
Cairo believed that growth came from adversity.
He had deliberately subjected Max to hardship, just as he himself had endured mockery and scorn for having an incompetent father.
He hated seeing his family ridiculed, despised his father’s subservient nature.
His hatred had fueled his ambition.
There was no stronger motivator than hatred and anger.
“Hans, I miss you…”
But Max lacked that drive.
He was a spoiled brat, using his anger and resentment to fuel his vanity.
If only he had Hans’s resilience, he could have used this humiliating defeat as motivation to become stronger.
“……”
Cairo’s worries deepened.
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In a dark, unlit room, Max gnawed at his fingernails, his body hidden beneath the covers.
His nails were ragged, some scabbed over with dried blood.
He was not in a healthy state of mind.
“Hehehe… Mmhehehe… Heh…”
He let out a choked, almost sobbing laugh.
Since his expulsion, he had been consumed by self-loathing and self-harm.
He had failed to meet his father’s expectations, disgraced his family, and even broken their heirloom.
All that remained was an endless cycle of anger and resentment.
Anger at his lack of talent, his inability to live up to his father’s expectations.
Resentment towards his brother, who had effortlessly earned their father’s love and attention.
Fury at Enya, whose beautiful swordsmanship reminded him of his brother’s talent, and at Edgar Fix, who had so easily won her affections.
Everything and everyone was a target for his rage.
He hated the world, his family, and most of all, Edgar Fix.
He fantasized about impaling Ed’s severed head on a spike and parading it before Enya.
That would bring him some satisfaction.
“Heh… Hehehe… Hehehe…”
He chuckled, indulging in the sweet fantasy.
It was just a delusion, but the mere thought brought him pleasure.
【I can grant your wish.】
A grotesque voice echoed in his mind, jolting him from his fantasy.
He had been suffering from these auditory hallucinations lately, likely due to lack of sleep.
【Find me. Your wish will be granted.】
The voice persisted, chilling him to the bone.
It pierced through his clouded mind.
【I am real. Not an illusion or a lie. I await you nearby. You are special, chosen to receive my power.】
A thought flickered in his mind.
What if the voice wasn’t a hallucination?
What if it was the voice of a god, and he was chosen?
“Heh… Hehehe…”
The thought excited him.
With divine power, no one would dare to mock him.
He could finally exact his revenge on Edgar Fix.
He got out of bed.
He had nothing to lose.
He would follow the voice.
It was his only hope.
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In the research lab, Ed inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar, comforting scent.
It felt like home.
He had a mountain of work ahead, but the thrill of developing new ideas never faded.
He was already planning his next project.
“Well, it’s a necessary step.”
His next project: chemical weapons.
His recent experiments with collagen and bio-ink had revealed the power of chemical reactions, and he intended to harness it.
He decided on CS gas, the only chemical weapon he had personally experienced during his mandatory military service.
He still remembered the burning sensation, the agonizing reminder of the importance of breathable air.
‘It’s suitable for experiments.’
CS gas caused intense pain but was non-lethal, hence its use in training exercises.
“Let’s begin.”
He started by analyzing CS gas’s properties.
It was a potent irritant that triggered the body’s defense mechanisms, causing excessive production of tears, mucus, and saliva.
“Similar to Alpendre.”
He thought of Alpendre, a flower that grew in the high-risk “Forest of Death.”
It protected itself by releasing a potent toxin that caused severe inflammation of the respiratory tract and eyes.
If he could neutralize and refine its toxicity, he could create a CS gas-like substance.
“Fix, I’ll be back soon.”
“Weeooong~!”
He set out to find Alpendre.
Only the detoxified stems were sold commercially.
He had to collect it directly from the Forest of Death.
-Kiiiing!
Fully suited up, he navigated the forest, quickly locating the Alpendre.
The flower released its toxins, but the suit, equipped with a purification system, protected him.
He collected several stems and returned to the academy, using his maneuver gear and thrusters to reach the teleportation exchange in record time.
“Waaaaah! A-A monster!”
A guard screamed, startled by his appearance.
Ed realized how intimidating he must look.
“……”
He pressed a button on his mask.
The helmet disassembled, the components retracting into the mask and revealed his face.
The guard, still on the ground, looked less terrified and more awestruck.
“W-Who…?”
“Imperial Academy student. Here’s my ID.”
He retrieved his ID from his inventory.
The guard flinched as the ID materialized from thin air but then stared at it, his eyes widening in recognition.
“E-Edgar Fix…?”
He looked from the ID to Ed’s face, verifying his identity.
Then, he scrambled to his feet and saluted.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Count Fix!”
He added that he was a fan and thanked Ed for the cool summer.
‘Even guards in remote areas know me now.’
Ed was slightly taken aback.
He had been just another academy student not long ago.
He accepted the guard’s enthusiastic handshake, the strength of his grip conveying his admiration.
“Keep up the good work.”
“Yes, sir!”
The strange sensation of being recognized by a complete stranger.
He kept the feeling with him as he teleported to the capital’s exchange.
The attendants there seemed to recognize him as well, stealing glances in his direction.
“It was an honor to serve you. Please visit us again.”
Unsolicited goodwill.
He gave the attendant a cursory nod and returned to his lab, the excitement fading as he re-entered the familiar space.
“Hmm. I’m a born engineer, after all.”
Popularity was nice, but he preferred the quiet solitude of his lab.
His social skills were a product of repeated playthroughs.
He was, at heart, a researcher and an engineer.
Time to make CS gas.
“Fix, let’s show those demons the hell of chemical warfare.”
“Weeooong~!”
He retrieved the Alpendre stems from his inventory.
Then began the experiments.
He mixed various solutions, inducing chemical reactions, trying to replicate CS gas.
“Hmm. Not quite.”
Chemistry wasn’t his specialty.
Failures piled up in his logbook.
“This time, it’ll work.”
But he had the cheat skill “Engineering Mind.”
He finally derived the correct formula.
The flask filled with a substance that looked suspiciously like modern CS gas.
Had he succeeded?
“Only one way to find out.”
He smashed the flask.
A thick green gas spread through the lab.
The moment it reached his airways…
“Cough!”
…he knew he had succeeded.
The familiar, agonizing burn, a vivid reminder of his military training.
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Footsteps echoed weakly down the hallway.
Rain lashed against the windows, and thunder rumbled, momentarily illuminating the dark corridor.
It was Charlotte.
She was on the verge of giving up.
Despite her efforts, she hadn’t sold a single flower.
‘In the end…’
She was destined to be a side character.
She had dreamt of shining like Enya and Isabella, but reality was harsh.
She would soon have to beg Ed for help with her tuition.
“……”
She stood before Ed’s lab, wondering how to ask for a job.
Would she always be the damsel in distress, relying on his charity?
“Sob… Hic…”
“…?”
A strange, sobbing sound came from inside the lab.
The door was slightly ajar.
Ed had left it open for ventilation, but Charlotte, unaware of this, cautiously peeked inside.
To her shock, she saw Ed sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
“!!!!!”
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[T/N: Check out the full body suit illustrations in discord]
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From ground breaking inventions to literal war crime weapons, Ed has really made it