After Victor left the workshop, Eleanor found herself standing in silence. She still couldn’t believe it—her patron actually possessed a broken dirigible, a mode of transportation that only a proper Magus force could fathom obtaining. There were so many mysteries that he hadn’t shown to her yet.

  Nevertheless, the shock quickly gave way to a bubbling resolve. How often did one get the chance to repair such a precious vessel, let alone one that was an ancient relic?

  Her hands curled into fists. For him to entrust such an important mission to her meant that her skills were trusted to a high degree, and she was determined not to disappoint him.

  With a quick clap to her cheeks, she snapped herself out of her thoughts. “Alright! If anyone can do this, it’s me. I’ll make sure this dirigible not only flies but soars. No matter what it takes, I’ll make sure we have the best airship the world has ever seen!” She punctuated her declaration by raising her fist high, her eyes blazing with energy.

  In a clearing of the Thornwood Forest, the morning sun hung just overhead, casting flickering shadows as the trees swayed gently in the breeze.

  A girl in her late teens stood beside a peculiar aircraft—a slim plane in the form of a powered glider. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded down her back, framing her brown quartz eyes and fair complexion. She sported a unique attire consisting of deep brown leather shorts and a reddish-brown suit that extended into a mantle-like long sleeve. White stockings and thigh-high boots adorned with delicate gold accents completed her ensemble.

  “Gee! What the heck is this piece of junk?” the girl, Eleanor, muttered, scratching the back of her head. “Repairing this is gonna take a lot of work…”

  Opposite her was a battered dirigible—a vessel so damaged that calling it “broken” was a total understatement. It was a haphazard collection of parts, barely holding together, the remnants of a once-majestic airship. Seeing its condition for the first time, Eleanor couldn’t help but wonder where she should even begin.

  “Still, a two-week deadline to fix this junk—even with those hardworking acolytes helping me. My patron sure knows how to work me to the bone.” Dissuaded she was not, however, as this only fueled her excitement.

  It wasn’t that she was a masochist; taking on challenges was just her way of life.

  Suddenly, a series of heavy thuds echoed behind Eleanor as five towering figures, each standing three meters tall, emerged from the wooden crates nearby and moved toward her. Each one had the shape of a humanoid mechanic construct.

  Seeing these figures, Eleanor couldn’t hold back her calm. “G-Golems?! Mechanical golems to boot!” Could these really be the helpers her patron had mentioned?

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she rushed over and inspected every inch of them like she was possessed. “Wow, wow! These are from the Magus Dynasty Era, the peak of magic civilization! I can’t believe that I get to see some of these antiques that are still functioning!” Eleanor exclaimed excitedly as she marveled at the craftsmanship, her hands fidgety. “Hehe, hehehe!”

  In truth, Eleanor had once designed her own golem, even gathering nearly all the necessary materials for the project. But before she could bring her creation to life, she met Victor, who then incessantly enlisted her help with various tasks. Now, faced with these ancient, functioning mechanical golems, she felt a thrill unlike any other.

  With them helping, repairing the airship within two weeks might just be possible.

  The night was calm, the warmth from the campfire casting a gentle glow on Eleanor’s face and hands. A pot of soup hung over the fire, its savory aroma making her mouth water.

  “My apprentices are so attentive,” she mused, smiling as she gazed upward at the star-studded sky. They had not only provided her with a tent but also the necessary ingredients to make a meal before she went off.

  Beside her, the five mechanical golems sat silently, their metallic forms reflecting the flickering flames. Though they couldn’t speak, their presence seemed to echo her contentment.

  Camping in the wild once in a while was a refreshing change from her usual routine, which often kept her cooped up in the workshop, hammering away at metals. However, it came with its own set of hassles. She had grown accustomed to delegating trivial tasks to the acolytes, such as cleaning the workshop and bringing her meals, among other menial chores. Living at the academy had its perks; it was almost like living as a noble, if not for the constant work.

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  Regardless, the whole day had been devoted to assessing the dirigible and devising a plan for its restoration.

  First and foremost, the hull was riddled with holes, and Eleanor wasn’t entirely sure what kind of alloy had been used to construct it. Yet, she wasn’t overly concerned. Her apprentices were quite smart and innovative when it came to identifying common metal compositions. Even if this was made from magic alloy, she was confident she could find a suitable substitute.

  The main problem, however, lay with the ship’s engine. It was broken beyond repair; it would be easier to construct a new one than to try and salvage the old one. Although Victor had brought her other disassembled engine parts and even some blueprints, she wasn’t entirely certain how it all worked. After all, this was her first time repairing a dirigible and constructing its engine. Still, her apprentices could also assist her in this area.

  Truly, these acolytes were a strange bunch, possessing knowledge that was entirely foreign to her. She recalled her patron sometimes calling them “players,” though she didn’t fully grasp what that term meant. But in any case, all that mattered was that they could help reach her ultimate goal, which was to revive the Faulkner name.

  The final challenge lay in transportation. Some components would need to be fabricated at her workshop, while others required on-site assembly, with raw materials weighing several tons. Fortunately, her patron agreed to deliver the necessary parts every morning, sparing her from the burden of transporting them herself. Moreover, she wasn’t obligated to stay at the site for the entire two weeks; she could return to her workshop at any time using the steam kite.

  This plan, while daunting, was not impossible, and she was determined to accomplish it, no matter what.

  Her nose suddenly twitched from a savory aroma; the soup was ready.

  She scooped a ladleful into her bowl as steam rose from the hot liquid filling it. Today’s meal was mushroom soup, made from the wild mushrooms the acolytes had foraged and enhanced with carefully prepared condiments.

  As she took her first sip, savoring the rich, earthy flavor, a satisfied hum escaped her. Her thoughts wandered back to Victor. That guy, Victor… What’s his true identity? How can he summon so many acolytes seemingly out of thin air? He had mentioned they came from a different plane, but that explanation only raised more questions.

  Bah! she thought, I’m not as clueless as I might seem. That little fairy must be something special.

  Though she often came across as carefree and capricious, Eleanor knew she wasn’t exactly normal—not even for a Faulkner. Yet, despite all her quirks, her patron’s eccentricity far surpassed hers by orders of magnitude, as proven by what had happened since they met.

  Once the pot was emptied of its contents, Eleanor stretched, reaching for the moon with one arm while the other rested behind her head. “Mmmm…!” she groaned, feeling the tension release from her muscles.

  With that, she headed toward her tent, ready for a good night’s sleep. A productive day always began with proper rest, after all.

  Almost two weeks had passed since the airship’s reconstruction began, and now its repairs were nearing completion.

  “Phew.” Eleanor wiped the sweat from her forehead with a satisfied grin.

  Learning was second nature to her, and this past fortnight had been a whirlwind of relentless work, with barely any rest despite the assistance of five mechanical golems. Disassembling broken parts, assembling new components, and rebuilding the airship had consumed her days and nights.

  Everything was a novelty to her. One discovery, in particular, intrigued her: The ship’s frame was constructed from built-up rings and longitudinal girders, all stabilized with wire bracing. The rings and longitudinals were made of a mithril alloy, while the bracing consisted of steel mixed with other magic metals. This combination resulted in a remarkably light and incredibly efficient structure, even by her standards.

  Dirigibles, especially ancient ones like this, were total enigmas for her. At most, she had only seen a few modern ones when she was a child and had never been inside one. Her knowledge of their interiors and functions was limited to the books her father had given her. Without the blueprints provided by Victor, she would never have been able to restore it to its original state, let alone make it functional in under two weeks.

  But all of this work would come to an end soon.

  Hands on her hips, Eleanor muttered, “All that’s left is to call Patron.” She sent a message through the Shadowlink Mark before making one last inspection of the dirigible.

  After ensuring the engine ran smoothly, she exhaled a heavy sigh and squatted beside her tent. She paused for a moment before yelling in frustration, “Two weeks! Repairing an entire dirigible in two weeks is too much, right? Right?!”

  “…” The five mechanical golems, still holding metal alloys and broken parts, merely stared at her in silence.

  “Wuuu… Bolt, Clank, Echo, Zinc, Flux, you’re the only ones who understand me…” She hugged the five hulking figures, each a hunk of steel that she had somehow grown attached to and gave names for some reason.

  “If he doesn’t let me pilot this dirigible, I’ll smack him in the face,” she grumbled, blowing on her fist for emphasis. But she knew her strength couldn’t match her patron, who was already an Elemental Adept Magus. It was like comparing an adult to a child—or worse, a newborn—since combat spells weren’t exactly her forte.

  “Ah… I want to hug Lizzy…” She lay on the ground, staring longingly at the sky as she rolled around like a worm.

  “So, here you are, Eleanor.” A familiar voice broke the silence as a man of similar age landed from the sky with a thud.

  “Patron! I-I wasn’t—” Eleanor hastily stood and tried to explain, but Victor either didn’t hear or didn’t care. Instead, he cut straight to the point.

  “Have you finished the repairs?” His tone was even, with a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed, bubbling with excitement. “Let’s take her for a maiden voyage, shall we?”

  Victor’s lips curled into a smile as he gave her a thumbs-up. “I knew you’d pull it off, Eleanor. As expected of a Faulkner… No, this is because of your own hard work.”

  Eleanor dusted off her clothes and rushed toward the dirigible. “Hehe, you haven’t seen anything yet. Trust me, Patron, this ship will soar like nothing you’ve ever seen before… Or maybe it’ll explode as soon as the engine starts. Who knows.” She shrugged.

  “Indeed.” He chuckled. “Oh wait, what—!”