Chapter 25: The Magic Welder

Seeing that Lord Owen wasn’t speaking for a while, the mine foreman thought he might be displeased with Huck’s age and quickly stepped forward to say.

“Lord Marquis, do you recall the mine collapse here two years ago?”

“Yes, I remember. Why?” 

Owen asked.

“After the collapse, Huck’s father went into the mine to rescue others. Unfortunately, there was a second collapse, and he was crushed by a boulder, losing a leg. Now Huck’s entire family relies on his wages to survive—it hasn’t been easy for them.”

The foreman brought up Huck’s father’s story to move Owen emotionally, hoping that would convince him to train Huck.

If Huck could operate the steam engine, he’d have a much easier job than hauling ore.

The mine collapse was indeed real, but the foreman had omitted a key detail: he and Huck’s father had entered the mine together to save people. During the second collapse, it was Huck’s father who pushed the foreman out of the way and saved him at the cost of his own leg.

So, the foreman was genuinely grateful—and this was why he favored Huck so much.

The favoritism was obvious, and Owen picked up on the implication. He shook his head with a faint smile.

“Alright, I understand. I’ll train Huck to operate the steam engine.”

“What are you waiting for? Thank the marquis!” 

The foreman nudged Huck with his elbow.

“And make sure you study hard.”

Huck flinched a little and quickly bowed.

“Thank you, Lord Marquis!”

In truth, operating the steam engine was very simple. As long as the person wasn’t too slow, anyone could learn it. Owen didn’t mind who the operator was.

After just one demonstration, Huck was already able to operate it on his own. Owen then carefully explained how to start and shut down the engine, how to maintain it, and so on.

Once Huck felt he had memorized everything, Owen gave him a verbal test on the spot.

After Huck passed, Owen turned off the engine to let it cool and had him run a live operation.

Only after this thorough assessment did Owen finally feel confident handing over management of the first steam engine to Huck—otherwise, he’d be worried the machine might blow up.

Watching Huck operate the engine to haul baskets for the miners, the foreman marveled.

“The efficiency’s improved so much! If only this beast could pump out the water in the mine tunnels too…”

“It can.” 

Owen replied casually.

Since he’d heard the comment, he felt it right to respond.

In fact, the blueprint for a steam-powered water pump had already been handed to Jita. When Owen gave it to him, Jita was ecstatic and promised to produce the components with the highest quality possible.

This project, like the last, was a joint effort between three blacksmith workshops, but Jita had taken on nearly all the complex parts himself. Whether that was confidence or arrogance, only time would tell.

“But, the pump version is only just beginning construction, so it’ll be a while before it’s delivered here.”

“Really? That’s amazing! Then we’ll finally be able to mine deeper into the tunnels. The ore veins down there are larger and purer. I’m sure production from the Mines will skyrocket!”

The foreman was visibly excited, already imagining the mine’s bright future.

In the days that followed, Owen planned to teach the technique for producing high-temperature flame jets to Fanny and Garcia, training them to become the next batch of magic welders.

Fanny had already agreed to help and had signed a contract with Owen, so she was clearly committed to learning.

Garcia, on the other hand, was currently an adventurer working under a formal commission. According to adventurers’ guild rules, he had the right to refuse any tasks outside the agreed scope. Even though he seemed interested in staying in Bianshu Town, Owen still needed to ask for his consent.

But to Owen’s surprise, when Garcia was summoned to the study and asked, not only did he agree—he was eager and deeply curious about his new magic technique.

To give them enough magic energy to practice, Owen reduced their workload at the cement workshop and even invited Garcia to practice the new magic in the castle courtyard.

What Owen didn’t expect… was that the first to master the flame jet technique was Garcia.

This left Fanny feeling quite defeated.

Watching the jet of flame dance at García’s fingertips, Owen gave a thumbs-up without hesitation.

“Not bad at all! You’ve already grasped the basics so quickly—truly worthy of being a seasoned Silver-ranked adventurer.”

“You flatter me, Lord Marquis.” 

García replied modestly as he withdrew his magic.

After all, Owen was the lord of Bianshu Town—it was only wise to remain respectful and cautious.

“I can do it too—just watch!”

Fanny puffed her cheeks, full of determination, and once again tried compressing a fireball. Unfortunately, it dissipated again after shrinking to about a third of its original size.

“Why…?” 

She muttered sadly, her head drooping in disappointment.

Owen offered comfort.

“Don’t worry. Take your time and keep practicing—you’ll get there.”

“Again with the ‘keep practicing’… Then how come Uncle García learned it so fast?” 

Fanny pouted, clearly frustrated.

Owen turned to look at García.

To be honest, even though Owen had personally guided him, García did seem to learn the high-temperature flame technique unusually quickly. If it wasn’t sheer talent, there had to be another reason.

“Well…”

García scratched his head sheepishly.

“It might be because I don’t have much mana.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Owen couldn’t see how having less mana could help with learning high-temperature flame.

Fanny also looked at him curiously, waiting for an explanation.

“I once developed a new spell called Exploding Flame…”

It turned out García had always had low magic reserves, so he focused on studying magic that used less mana but still packed a punch. One of his creations, Exploding Flame, had made him somewhat famous at the Adventurer’s Guild.

Exploding Flame was essentially a variant of Fireball magic.

The idea was to compress the fireball before throwing it. After flying a certain distance, it would explode. This technique required compression—though not to the extreme degree of high-temperature flame.

No wonder García picked up the new spell so fast—he already had experience with compression techniques.

“Oh! So that’s why! Uncle García cheated!” 

Fanny exclaimed in realization.

Hearing this, Owen couldn’t help but laugh.

That technique had come from García’s own hard work and experimentation. How could that be considered cheating?

You couldn’t expect everyone to start from the exact same level—it simply wasn’t realistic.

Still, García’s story made Owen reflect on something.

Most mages focus on developing powerful offensive magic to strengthen themselves. Few are interested in creating spells for daily life or productivity. At best, they invent a few supportive combat utilities.

Strengthening oneself isn’t bad—it just feels like a waste of magic’s vast potential in production and everyday use.

Hadn’t Winston said it himself? In this world, magic is the number one productive force.

A few more days passed, and the weather grew increasingly cold. Owen had started layering on warmer clothing.
At the moment, he was sitting in his study, going through paperwork.

Knock, knock!

A guard quickly entered the room, bowed with a hand over his chest, and reported:

“Lord Marquis, a ship from Dongsheng Fortress is about to arrive at the docks of Bianshu Town.”

“We do trade with Dongsheng Fortress. A ship coming here isn’t unusual.” 

Owen replied, not even looking up as he continued writing.

“It’s not a regular merchant ship, sir. It’s flying a flag bearing the crest of the House of Duke Eddie.”

“Oh?”

At that, Owen’s quill paused mid-stroke.

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