Industry of War - Part 1

Today is the 13th, Ne, day of Water, and I wake up to the comfy sounds of rain as a horned, pale beauty chokes on my cum while deepthroating me. She pulls her head back and coughs on her hand, then groans in mild pain and licks her palm to not waste any of my seed.

"Good girl…" I drowsily praise the bespectacled woman for her effort, then caress one of her spiral dark horns, and her bright smile makes me wake up.

"You came a lot today," she whispers sultrily and leans into my touch.

"Well, yeah… no sex," I point out the obvious.

"Right… that makes sense," she hums as she playfully slaps my Cock against her cheek, and her tail dagger nods for her.

--

I increased my [Godly Language] by 4 and my [Draconic Transformation] by 2 (now 34+5 and 9), which was expected considering how badly I fucked up my soul by doing what I did yesterday. And Yunia is the only girl who got a skill up, but that's from using [Spirit Touch] on me all day, so the skill increased by 1 (now 30).

Everyone but Yunia gained a level while Aoi gained two, so Hana is now level 66, the same as Yunia, Aoi is level 55, and everyone else is 65. With the increase of XP required for each level, it's expected that one day our levels will match, though Aoi still has a lot to "catch up."

We eat breakfast in our bedroom as we watch the rain, and the sound of the rain on the roof tiles creates a comfy atmosphere. I have Hukarere under the table making up for yesterday, but everyone else is fairly non-lewd as a serious mood starts to take over us.

Yunia feels a bit wistful as she also misses the day of Ne back at home. The smell of petrichor is nostalgic for her, and she loves the sound of running rainwater echoing across the bush-like castle, so today is like a downgrade, even if it's fresh.

Still, she loves it. Well… everyone loves the day of Ne, really. Maybe somewhere like Dyrmorder, which is already a humid and cold place, doesn't get any better during the day of Ne, or maybe Sommerland or Sommerinsel would dislike the clouds covering their bright sun and blue skies, but everywhere else, rain is good.

"Heaven's Piss is annoying when you're in the Thunderplains," Hana complains with a smirk, earning a glare from Ciel.

Okay, add the Thunderplains to the list of people who have something against Ne.

"What's the difference between Paradise and Heaven?" I question curiously.

And Ciel forgets all about the blasphemy because she loves answering my questions about religion, "Heaven is one of the regions of Paradise. It's the most famous one as it's where you go to rest, recover, and talk to the Gods while other regions have different 'activities.'"

"Is there a place for endless sex?" I follow up with an innocent grin.

And she smiles wryly as she answers, "That's Eros, and there are many cities over there. You'd love Sodom…"

While I'd love to hear more about that, none of us want to waste too much time on breakfast, so we fill our bellies with cookies, then quickly drink a lot of coffee because we're going to need it. It's time to build an industry, and I'm very excited.

--

But then the excitement dies when I realize that I need to make an army of machinist golems…

"The Sky Landers will help," Alissa attempts to console me as she rubs my back.

"Still not a reason not to do it," I mumble as I look down dejectedly.

So she kisses my cheek and switches to encouragement, "Only you can do it, Wolfy, and just imagine the wondrous things you'll build with your army of golems. What's that meme about warfare that you loved? 'Nyaw Frisco,' or something?"

"Democracy is non-negotiable…" I quietly meme with a pout.

No, I won't be this pathetic…

I'm the biggest memelord of this fucking world!

"Peace was never an option!" I shout with renewed motivation.

"Do not make peace with evil. Destroy it!" I soberly declare.

"I feel the need… the need for speed!" I excitedly shout.

"Intervention… NOW!" I roar as I pump my fist toward the sky.

And then the cringe takes over me as I announce, "It's time to liberate them… from their lives!"

Ah, yes, I can even hear the dark synth as the memes flash through my mind. The glorious earthling civilization turned warfare into an art form, but America turned it into a way of life, and it'd fit perfectly in this dangerous world full of enemies to genocide and people to protect.

Yes, how could I forget my dream to revolutionize war?! It's time to bring this traditional fantasy game into the age of gunpowder! Well… Draconic Climax is a liquid, but that's not important!

For this new age, there's one thing that I'm dying to build…

"Gify, play 'Sublimation.'"

--

Intermission – Master Smith of Blades

--

We've been called in the name of the royals to meet with the foreigner royals, who've come from the elven lands but aren't elves themselves… That story is a bit confusing, to be honest. They even brought with them the spirits of our Hauhuri Imperial ancestors, but I only see more of our brethren, though they're wearing less clothes than usual.

I don't know what to make of these foreign royals, so I'm thankful it isn't my job to regularly interact with them. I'm only here to craft, and I'll show them that we, Sky Landers, won't lose to our ancestors, or this pair of supposed craftswomen Queens, or even… dolls?

[Summon Clay Golem] is a popular spell for craftsmen looking for a tireless assistant, but they're made of clay and not… cloth and cotton. They're even floating, and I've never seen a golem do that before!

There's also a person in a suit of armor handling some pieces of metal, and I don't know what to make of that, so I'll just ignore them because the helmet has a face and I find it mildly disturbing.

"Craftsmen, look upon this weapon. This is called a gun," the dwarven Queen begins as she raises a polearm-looking thing. She sounds suspiciously young. I've had a few interactions with dwarven craftsmen and craftswomen, and I always got the impression that they were older than me, but this one sounds… childish. "Now, don't be startled, but this will produce a loud sound, and then the living armor ahead of us will die."

What…?

But since nobody is brave enough to question her, she just points the "gun" at the Living Armor tied to the wall, then something explodes, startling us even though she gave a warning about what was going to happen, and the Armor collapses into a pile of decidedly not-haunted armor.

I turn my head to the Queen once I recover my balls from the floor, and I see a cloud of smoke in front of her with a few wisps coming out of the hollow pole of the "gun."

Then she shows the weapon to us again and continues, "I pull this little lever, and it ignites a liquid that triggers an explosion, propelling a piece of metal out of the barrel with many times more force than an arrow or even [Earth Bullet]."

"I've seen a g-gnomic cannon like that, once," a fellow craftsman remarks with a trembling voice.

The dwarven queen nods and utters a bewilderingly fantastic claim, "This one is completely unenchanted, unlike the gnomic cannon. This gun should be more expensive than an unenchanted gnomic crossbow, but its power will more than compensate for the cost."

Unenchanted?! Did I hear that right?!

But I must have because I can't sense a single particle of mana in the air! The claim about the power also seems to be true, as the crossbows are infamous for being excellent against armor, the same kind that the Living Armor used to call home.

"Inspect the armor," the odd-looking human Queen speaks with her chilling double voice as she stares at us, and I believe that was an order. She was supposed to be a dragon, and I do admit I'm disappointed that she isn't in that form right now, but perhaps it's for the best, as both her voice and the explosion have already rattled me enough.

While I muse, my colleagues timidly obey, and they grab the helmet, then start to excitedly mutter to each other as they inspect it, so I join them out of curiosity.

"Where's the dent?" I eagerly inquire.

"Hole, not a dent," someone soberly corrects.

Then I inspect the helmet and correct the correction, "Holes, plural."

It's… a frighteningly perfect hole, almost as if the helmet was a mere piece of paper that someone poked a hole through with a pencil, but then I notice something on the other side.

"It went through the forehead and out through the back…" I whisper in awe.

And we turn to the wall, and then we spot it… one little hole. Whatever projectile this "gun" spat out at the Living Armor has sunk so deep into the stone wall that we can't pull it out without magic.

I've already become used to deciphering the desires of royalty due to their use of overly-inflated language, but Queen Lina spoke only the truth, nothing more, nothing less.

And then she speaks more, "Now, we'll show you the schematics. Though this gun is already powerful, it requires refinement as the wear from the explosion is unacceptably high. After a few shots, cracks begin to form and the gun risks exploding in the user's hand."

"What about the expansion of the metal under heat? Isn't that causing the friction to rise further than desired?" the fellow experienced with gnomic cannons inquires, his curiosity helping overcome his meekness.

And the dwarven Queen gives a dwarven answer, "We've already accounted for that. This metal has been treated to expand as little as possible with heat, but we haven't been able to account for the power of the explosion wearing it down faster than we wished."

Then the dragon Queen puts a large piece of paper upon a table and motions to it as she stoically speaks, "This is the schematic of a gun. We don't mind showing it to you as you lack the capabilities to reproduce it."

We're all a bit intimidated by her, so we wait until she steps away from the table. Then we immediately crowd around it and hurriedly discuss every detail that we can. It's like we're all apprentices again and have been given a challenge, and we love it.

And this "gun" is a little wonder. We have no idea how something so small was made with such precision, but we aren't going to question what isn't immediately relevant as we don't have time.

But then our morale steadily drops the more we discuss it. There are just so many parts, so many details, so many numbers, so many combinations, and so many issues that my head spins as it fails to even grasp this complex construction in its entirety, and I'm the Master Smith of Blades!

This has quickly become the worst-case scenario that we can think of, and as the senior craftsman here, I take it upon myself to speak for everyone.

So I fall on my knees in front of the queens and lower my snout until it touches the ground, then secure mercy for all of us, "Queen Lina Ryder and Queen Aoi Ryder, I must beg forgiveness in the name of all Sky Lander craftsmen, for we simply lack the expertise to aid you in this matter. We recommend you contact the royals of Mountainhome and Gnomeria as they must have more knowledge in this area than we do."

"Gnomes? Hm… perhaps Prince Lookwlind will be interested in this project?" Queen Lina quietly remarks to her sister-Queen, seemingly uninterested in my begging, but also without even a hint of anger in her tone, which is perfect.

"I believe he'll enjoy a challenge," Queen Aoi replies in the same tone, though her double voice is still chilling.

More royals…?

We need to talk to Prince Hekeman. Though I wish to hide in shame for my failure, witnessing this event is something we simply must not miss.

--

Intermission end.

--

One golem, two golems, four golems, eight golems, sixteen golems, thirty-two golems, sixty-four, one-hundred and twenty-eight… and a thousand more left to go!

Hahahahaha!

I'm totally not going insane!

"Wolfy, it isn't even midday," Alissa flatly remarks through [Bind].

Then I'm speedrunning insanity any%!

"Gih."

No, 100% would be zero actual "Sanity." I'm just bored out of my mind.

"Gih."

It's not my fault that I suck at planning when I can't immediately prototype!

Then I hear a knock, so I call her in, and a Companion enters the bedroom.

The girl promptly falls on one knee and delivers her message, "Prince Looklwind Krunigrihir has arrived-…"

Ooooh…!

"…and Belind Krunigrihir has also come."

OOOOH…!

"I'll receive them," Alissa volunteers because I can't stop my work, but at least I can watch through her eyes.

--

The blue-haired dull prince and the pretty Tinkerbell. I didn't Ravage anyone yesterday, so just looking at this juicy little piece of meat makes me hard as Okross. Tinkerbell is adorable and thicc, a deadly combo for a connoisseur of women like me.

The Prince is wearing a lavish robe matching his hair color and also a characteristic conic hat with a floppy pompom at the top, which I'm told was made to look like a Plom, the fluffy, floating rodent that can surreptitiously steal mana just by touching things. As for the ponytailed Princess, she's wearing a considerably skimpy pink dress that shows her thick thighs and crystal-like high heels that make me salivate over her feet.

"Prince Looklwind, Princess Belind, it's great to see you both," Alissa politely greets with a pretty smile.

"Likewise, Queen Alissa!" Belind cheerfully replies and flies towards her, arms open wide for a hug.

This surprises Alissa since their previous goodbyes were merely cordial, but since it's Tinkerbell, she's quite happy to receive the lively woman with a more intimate touch. And the pixie almost goes for a motorboat as she aims a little bit lower than expected, which triggers Roxanne's gaydar for a second.

Interesting…

After a brief but happy moment, they part, and then the baby-faced, dull prince clears his throat and politely greets her too, "Likewise, Queen Alissa. Your letter intrigued me so much that I came immediately, so I apologize for my hastiness."

"He almost came running, in fact!" Belind teases her brother and giggles adorably, her butterfly wings flapping with each cute sound.

And Alissa soberly replies, "Speed is precisely what we desire, for we wish to finish equipping our army before the Titans counterattack."

"Yes, I understand the importance of this work," the Prince soberly hums with a polite nod.

I notice that he seems to be making an effort to not accidentally peek under Alissa's slutty not-kimono, even though it'd be so easy, considering his height, so he gets a bit of respect from me. Though, I'd give him a different kind of respect if he did try, and I'm not talking about hitting him. I do get sexual satisfaction from other men thirsting for my wives, after all.

So Belind matches her tone and amiably states, "Then let us make haste. I'm eager to meet with Queen Lina and King Wolf again."

Lina first, not me? Stings a bit.

"Sorry…" Lina mumbles through [Bind].

Not your fault that you're irresistibly cute.

Anyway, Alissa has to temper Belind's excitement a bit, "Wolfy is creating more golems, which are very important for our future, so we'd rather him not be disturbed, and the spell he's using should also remain a secret for now."

And Belind nods in acceptance. "How unfortunate, but we got permission to stay here as long as needed, so I can wait a little longer."

But I can't wait. I want to see you, Tinkerbell!

Alissa ignores my childish cries and smiles politely as she continues, "Then let us meet with Queen Lina."

--

"What a wonderful machine…" Lookwlind whispers in awe as he stares at the lathe while Aoi demonstrates how it works.

"These are the plans for the 'gun,'" Lina states as she motions to the gnome-height table.

And the Prince quickly moves to it while the Princess lazily floats closer, seemingly simply enjoying the occasion rather than being curious about the machinery.

"Oh, my…" he hums in surprise as his eyes pour over the paper. Then he spots the prototype beside it and frowns curiously. "Such a delicate-looking thing. How do you expect it to survive continuous use?"

The hastily-built prototype looks more like a pipe gun than anything from Earth, but that's only because it lacks ergonomic features. It's a simple single-shot rifle, so there's no need to bulk it up and make it pretty just yet.

"The same way a bird can fly without magic. Wolfy calls it 'extreme specialization,'" Lina calmly answers.

"The base is built with knowledge, and since it's immaterial, we can pack an infinite amount into it," Alissa happily adds. But both royals give her a surprised look, so she feels like she must clarify, "These are also Wolfy's words."

"I see his Blessing from Knowledge is deserved," Belind kindly praises me, making my Cock throb.

But the Prince is silent as he makes a pensive face, immediately understanding what I'm getting at.

Then Aoi gives unintended praise, "We've learned as much as we could about metals, but we lack knowledge of mechanics, which gnomes are famous for."

"Yet you still built these machines without our help," he answers stoically. He's certainly not easy to flatter.

"So imagine what we can achieve together," Alissa gives the killing blow.

And he stops for a second, then chuckles heartily, grinning from ear to ear in a way that I've never seen before, "Hahaha…! That does sound like a marvelous picture!"

But his sister seems positively shocked that he can act so excited.

--

While the trio rolls up their sleeves (not literally, as that's dangerous because stray hot burrs can burn any exposed skin), Belind and Alissa just watch for a long moment. They're both warriors, so they find it entrancing to watch the crafters work with their hands.

And then Princess Belind quietly remarks with a wistful tone, "If you have business to attend to, you don't need to keep me company, Queen Alissa. I'm happy just being able to watch my brother acting like an excited child once again."

So Alissa politely replies, "You can drop the titles in private. Now, if you do wish for company again, Princess Urmeie is also here with us, and she's been very bored lately."

"Ugh… Urmeie…" Belind groans in annoyance.

"Are you two not on good terms…?" my fox diplomatically inquires.

"We just don't get along," she quietly answers, then immediately becomes lively again. "But anyway, you can drop the titles for me too."

And Alissa happily nods, but then a Companion arrives with word that Prince Hekeman wants to speak. This is exactly what we planned for when we showed the craftsmen the prototype gun.

It's unfortunate that they couldn't help, but at least they'll spread the word about the wonders of our invention. We already have a buyer for the Raki, but there's still more funding to be secured.

--

--

Hall of Fame of Patrons

The patrons who support Rupegia shall have their names sung by the bards for they deserve the glory and honor. Their names are:

Prince PreownedFIN.

Prince Owldente.

Prince S. R.

Lord Andrew Meyers.

Lord Bakerdea.

Lord Maurice.

Lord Mattirro Draca.

Lord Tenebris Lupus.

Lord Paul Daval.

Lord Paul Daval.

Lord Tmac.

Lord CopeyDunt.

Lord BlindTactic.

Lord Philip.

Lord d3235.

Lord SubJef.

Lord GalacticTNT.

Lord Glaistig Uaine.

Lord School work.

Lord patrick__starz.

Lord Peter Kraushuber

Lord David England.

Noble Aclys.

Noble Carl Baxter.

Noble Tony Starrk.

Noble DND.

Noble Anon A Moose.

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