Chapter 142: Miniature Core Staff: Salamandra

As promised, I quickly made a flower-crown–styled anti–magic-seal headpiece for Kinrenka and handed it over. After that, I turned my attention to Tsubaki’s gear coordination problem.

Watching Tsubaki—currently kneeling in seiza on the inn bed after being scolded by Hiyori for covering it in ash—I was once again struck by how defenseless she looked.

Tsubaki was completely naked.

Even with the Abyss Gold hammer Hiyori had bought for her strapped to her back, she wasn’t wearing any clothes. The flames flickering around her body made it look like she was dressed, but in reality, she was still very much part of the “no-clothes tribe.”

Trying to make Tsubaki wear clothes would be like dressing up a dog or cat. Sure, it might look cute—but it feels like forcing human preferences onto a pet, and I don’t like that.

So in the end, a collar—well, a choker with anti–magic-seal properties—seemed like the most reasonable option.

With her inherited reflexes and magic control, she could apparently deflect even handgun bullets using Abyss Gold. There was no need to force armor onto her.

That said… now that she could walk upright and had free use of her hands, maybe I should give her a staff?

…No, wait. Would that even suit her combat style?

She hadn’t used any incantation magic at all during her fight with Hiyori.

Was that because she couldn’t use it, or because she chose not to?

“Tsubaki, what kind of equipment do you want?”

“Mi! Dairi called me. Scolding’s over.”

“Hey! At least clean up the ash before you go—…ugh, honestly.”

The moment I called out, Tsubaki seized the opportunity and ran over. I waved off Hiyori’s reproachful look and started asking questions.

What was Tsubaki’s fighting style? What kind of equipment did she actually need?

“For now, I’ll make you an anti–magic-seal choker. Same design as Hiyori’s, but with colors adjusted for you. Any requests?”

“…Will the choker burn?”

“Ah, right. Heat resistance is an issue. How hot can your flames get now?”

“Don’t know. But way more blazing than when I had a tail.”

She stuck out her tongue and puffed a few sparks, proudly puffing out her chest.

So her firepower had increased after maturing. Even as a juvenile, she could already melt tungsten—so at minimum, that’s over 3500°C…

Though more likely, it’s not that her flames instantly reach that temperature, but that she can concentrate heat over time onto a target.

Still, if she could casually spit 3500°C flames, even Hiyori would be reduced to ashes.

“Hmm… then we don’t have a material that can handle that. Anything we use would melt.”

“Mi. Magic stones won’t work.”

“Yeah…”

Tsubaki glanced toward my chest—specifically at the fragment of Octa-Meteorite inside my amulet pouch—with a frustrated expression.

She had a point. Magic stones had the highest heat resistance in the world. Unlike gremlins, they couldn’t be melted, destroyed, or altered—only broken.

They had already survived atmospheric re-entry at thousands of degrees, so their heat resistance was unquestionable.

But using my Octa-Meteorite for her choker?

No way. That thing is basically a guardian charm that once repelled an evil god. I’m not giving that up.

Besides, magic stone alone wouldn’t be enough to construct a proper anti–magic-seal system anyway.

“I’ll think about the choker materials. Around 2000°C resistance should be enough unless things get extreme. Abyss Gold didn’t melt either. So, for weapons—what do you use?”

“All Abyss Gold. Weak enemies—smash and burn. Strong ones—transform.”

She swung her massive golden hammer around energetically as she explained.

So her style was fully integrated offense and defense. What she showed against Hiyori must’ve been her serious mode.

“You’d be stronger if you used a staff and magic too.”

“That’s bad. Dairi amazing—but doesn’t understand fighting.”

She immediately shut down my amateur suggestion.

Apparently, relying halfway on magic is worse than focusing entirely on controlling Abyss Gold.

Tsubaki, being a demon, has far less magic power than a Transcendent—less than half even compared to the weakest of them. She runs out quickly and can’t win in a magic duel.

Her durability is also much lower than a Transcendent’s.

So she abandoned magic combat entirely and specialized in Abyss Gold close-range fighting.

“If I use magic, my mana drains fast. I get tired. Mi. If I fight only with Abyss Gold, I can fight loooong. Only use healing magic when hurt. Mimi!”

“You’ve really thought this through. That’s impressive.”

“I’m amazing. I’ll get the best territory. Study lots, train lots, get stronger.”

I patted her head, and she puffed up proudly, scattering sparks.

She’d always been the most assertive and arrogant one—but she had the ability to back it up.

After more discussion, I concluded it was best not to change her combat style.

Tsubaki—become a master of close combat.

With that in mind, the type of staff I could make was limited.

After careful thought, I decided to create an experimental weapon:

A miniature planetary-core staff.

If she wasn’t using magic, most of her mana was going unused.

So instead, we’d convert it into physical enhancement using a spiral staff—and, with her flames, attempt to recreate the Earth’s core conditions on a small scale.

Deep within Earth, molten metal flows in constant motion, generating electricity. Gremlins feed on that energy, and under extreme heat and pressure, form unknown magical metals.

These metals shape the planet’s magic energy flow—ley lines.

By accessing these ley lines and mixing them with one’s own mana, beings can enhance their physical abilities.

But there’s a problem.

Magic has only existed on Earth for less than 100 years.

To a 4.6-billion-year-old planet, that’s nothing—barely a blink.

So Earth’s ley lines are still immature and weak.

Which means their enhancement effect is weak too.

This staff would attempt to solve that.

First, I created a palm-sized pressure-resistant sphere using high-strength, heat-resistant alloy infused with magic metal.

Inside, I sealed materials replicating Earth’s core—iron, nickel, gremlins, and more.

Then Tsubaki would heat it with her flames, raising its temperature and pressure.

If successful, it would replicate the same phenomenon that creates ley lines—just on a tiny scale.

Instead of relying on a massive ley line 2900 km underground…

You’d have a tiny one right in your hand.

Closer. Easier to access. More efficient.

In theory.

Of course, there were problems:

• We don’t know the exact composition of Earth’s core 
• Real core pressure is 3.65 million atmospheres—humans can only reach about 1000 

But still—it’s worth trying.

Nature isn’t always superior to artificial systems.

After some trial and error (and only seven explosions), I succeeded.

The core glowed red-hot, so I encased it in a thermal shell—accidentally mimicking Earth’s inner core and crust.

A metallic sphere core. A metal shaft.

A fully metallic, almost steampunk-like staff.

Tsubaki hugged it tightly, flames flaring with joy, while the cooling system vented steam like a pressure cooker.

“Mimi… I like metal. Dairi, thank you. I’ll warm it every day.”

“Good. Keep it hot. Maintain high heat and pressure, and the ley line should grow. In theory.”

I named it:

“Miniature Core Staff: Micro Gaia Wand Salamandra.”

With further refinement, it should greatly enhance close-combat fighters like Tsubaki.

And if Tsubaki becomes famous, the staff will too.

Win-win.

Good for me. Good for Tsubaki.

Now go—Dairi & Tsubaki, unstoppable duo!