Having secured the Magisteel data without a hitch, I committed every detail to memory before swiftly returning to the real world. Chris, already transformed back into a black cat, had left the Eternal Night Library ahead of me. He now lounged on the cushion I’d prepared just for him, yawning listlessly. Had he been eating too many dried fish lately? He seemed… slightly bigger.

“Chris, what’s for lunch?”

“What lunch?” The black cat turned to me, golden eyes gleaming. “I have zero interest in human food. I don’t even need to eat.”

“Dried fish~~”

I pulled out the ultimate weapon from my Item Vault—bought by my puppet at the morning market for three copper coins. The rich, fishy scent hit him. *Whoosh!* Chris sprang up like a coiled spring, became a darting shadow, and snatched the treat from my hand in a flash.

“Oh-ho-ho~ So you ‘don’t need food’?”

“Dried fish is special!”

Just then, the door opened. Alethea shuffled in, scratching her head—zero noble-lady vibes. She’d clearly forgotten her last lesson: first stealing my blueberry cookies, now sprawled lazily on the sofa playing dead.

“Whoa! A kitty!” Juliana, right behind her, zeroed in on Chris. She surged forward, big eyes sparkling with delight.

“M-M-Milady… sorry,” Chris stammered.

“No worries,” I said, handing her a piece of dried fish. “Please, enjoy.”

“Oh-ho-ho-ho~~~”

With a villainess’s signature laugh, Juliana activated her “Anti-Chris Noble Phantasm.” Chris knew she was dangerous—but dried fish proved too tempting. He tumbled straight into her trap and was vigorously petted.

Humans die for gold, birds fall for bait… and cats get cuddled for dried fish.

Is this… fate?

*Haaah~~~*

Alethea let out an unladylike yawn and flopped onto the sofa, dozing off. Martha had been called away this morning to clean the old warehouse I’d repurposed as a research facility—so Alethea immediately went full slacker mode. With Martha around, she’d at least “pretend” to work. Now? She’d fully claimed this place as her own.

Hmph. Did you think I hadn’t noticed you constantly batting your eyes at Freud?

To Alethea, being my maid was just a stepping stone. Her real goal: infiltrate the duke’s household, scheme her way into becoming Freud’s concubine, and—should Lilia ever fall—claim the duchess title. In my past life, Lilia died early in battle. Freud took mistresses afterward but never remarried. The duchess seat stayed empty.

If I weren’t buried in restoring the Iron Golem prototype, I’d have dealt with her long ago.

“Juliana, I’ll be out briefly. Chris is in your care.”

“Yes, Milady!” Juliana beamed, cradling Chris. But the black cat stared at me with pleading eyes, letting out soft, pitiful *mew-mew* cries.

Selling your dignity for dried fish… not such a bad deal for a cat, right?

I wrapped myself in a thick cloak and stepped out the castle’s side gate. A biting wind stung my cheeks with snowflakes. Gray skies dusted the land in light snow—another frigid day. This realm of white peaks and dark rivers lay deep in the empire’s northwest, far from political hubs. Rich in resources and ancient ruins, yet crippled by harsh terrain. Such a waste.

Originally, I designed the Iron Golem to protect laborers in brutal conditions—amplifying strength tenfold to accelerate development. It was never meant as a weapon. Not the original design, anyway. But this Arcane Golem? Born for battle. Engineered to kill.

Civilian version? Sure. Just a side project.

“Milady! You shouldn’t be here—the second floor isn’t clean yet!”

Martha, mother of two, gasped at my arrival. She gently lifted me, brushed snow from my coat, and settled me in a warm corner of the foyer. She treated me like her own child—pouring all her care into me since work kept her from her kids.

“I’ll only use the first floor.”

“Still, Milady… braving this snow?”

I handed her my scarf and hat and stepped into the ground-floor alchemy space—no longer a lab, but a full workshop. Forbidden to all, Martha could only see me to the door.

The alchemy workstation was prepped. I imported Magisteel’s molecular formula—retrieved from the Eternal Night Library—stood beside the transmutation circle, and activated the program.

*Crackle—!*

Crimson lightning flared. The circle glowed. Within the magical radiance, a metal component formed layer by layer. Faint grooves marked its surface, but far better than blacksmithing—and adjustable angles minimized them.

Once the glow faded, I deployed the robotic arm to retrieve the part from the unstable energy zone and mount it on the fixture. Designing these tools took days, but Chris’s immense magic let me materialize the whole setup at once. Physical strain? Minimal. Mental exhaustion? Daily.

I climbed my lightweight aluminum ladder to inspect the part. Unlike any metal I knew—near-black, like non-reflective obsidian.

This was Magisteel: the ancients’ mythical alloy. 90% mithril’s magic conductivity, four times steel’s strength, half the weight. Mithril? Too soft, too costly. Steel? Magic-proof, too heavy. Magisteel fused the best of both—the dream material for arcane engineering.

I could carve magic circuits directly onto the Iron Golem’s skeleton. No more fragile mithril wiring like last life. Higher producibility. Lower cost. Worth every risk I took in the Library’s danger zones.

By noon, the humanoid metal skeleton stood assembled on the fixture—still “naked,” no outer armor—but arcane motors, hydraulic dampers, and servos were locked in.

Time for the magic everyone’s been waiting for!

I opened the Item Vault and pulled out a basketball-sized metal sphere. Larger than an Arcane Fusion Bomb, packed with safety systems. Yes—my greatest invention from my past life: the Arcane Reactor!

*Clang—!*

I set it within the arm’s reach, sweating. At six years old—frail from malnutrition and recent illness—even this small effort left me breathless. Thank goodness for the robotic arm. At the console, I guided it to slot the reactor into the Magisteel frame’s rear socket. Hydraulics hissed. Locking bolts rotated 90 degrees with precision. Only the magic conduction lines needed manual connection.

*Heave-ho~~*

Hauling the tiny ladder to the back left me panting. This body really was… fragile. Maybe station a puppet here to help.

After a short rest, I climbed up and connected all four lines. Now, high-density magic would flow from reactor to motors and hydraulics, controlled via servo and force feedback systems. I descended, strolled to the front. Half-sized prototype, but all core systems live. Ready for testing.

Just as I wondered about adding armor—

Hands covered my eyes.

“Guess who~~~~”

“Lilia? Eep—!”

A light flick tapped my forehead. Startling, not painful.

“Call me ‘Big Sister’~~~”

“Lilia… Big Sister.”

“Shorter!”

“Big Sister…”

“Good.” Lilia lifted me, nuzzled my cheeks, kissed my forehead. How did she get in?! I *locked* the door!

“Victoria, what’s this? Looks awesome!”

Her eyes sparkled at the skeleton. My stomach dropped—it was unfinished.

“Victoria, sweet sister~” She pointed. “This goes on a person, right? Looks fun. Let Big Sister try it!”

“Wait—!”

Too late. She leaped onto the frame. Reactor active, servos auto-engaged. Locks clicked. Sliding joints secured her in place.

“Lilia… Big Sister,” I gasped, “It’s uncalibrated—don’t move—!”

Too late.

The Iron Golem prototype rose. Force feedback mirrored her every motion. It strode forward—purposeful, powerful—and marched straight toward the warehouse exit.