This world stood upon a fragile foundation called "Mana." To its inhabitants, mana was the breath of life, a blessing from the gods, and the source of all power. But to Arkan, mana was merely a highly inefficient energy variable. He watched knights chant incantations for ten seconds just to manifest a small fireball; to him, it was a preposterous waste of time.
That morning, the Silent Village was shrouded in a thick fog that carried the sulfurous scent of the northern volcanic ranges. Arkan stood before a cracked mirror in his shack, staring at his reflection. The dark circles beneath his eyes told the story of sleepless nights spent dissecting the logic of this world.
"Mana here acts like a radioactive catalyst," he muttered, scribbling in a pocket notebook. "It can alter the structure of matter, but it requires precise instructions. The problem is, 'spells' are too abstract. I need mathematical directives."
He took a deep breath and stepped out toward the village's black market.
Part 1: The Material Hunt
The black market of the Silent Village was nothing more than a cluster of squalid tents behind the ruins of an old church. Here, royal law held no sway; only gold and strength spoke. Arkan walked past crowds of wounded mercenaries and slave traders with an expressionless face.
He stopped in front of a stall covered in black tarp. A sharp scent of ammonia and metal stung his nostrils.
"You again, kid in the tattered cloak," greeted the one-eyed trader, Silas, who was cleaning his nails with a rusty knife. "What is it this time? More medicinal herbs?"
"I need Cinnabar," Arkan said directly. "And every drop of Nitric Acid you have. I know the Alchemists in the Capital dump their experimental waste on junk dealers like you because it's too corrosive and useless for mana potions."
Silas let out a raspy laugh. "Red pigment rocks and the 'burning water' that melts skin? You're a strange one. But your silver speaks louder than my common sense. Two silver coins for all that junk."
Arkan handed over the coins. Silas produced three dark glass bottles sealed with wax and a small sack of dull red stones. Arkan inspected the bottles.
The concentration wasn't pure, but with [Molecular Architecture], he could perform molecular distillation without the need for complex lab equipment.
"One more thing," Arkan paused. "Do you have access to the white powder found in the bat caves to the south?"
"You mean the salty bird droppings? Saltpeter? We have tons of it. Farmers use it for fertilizer, but it's dirt cheap."
"Bring ten kilograms to my shack this afternoon. I'll pay two more silver."
Silas's eyes widened. Ten kilos of fertilizer for two silver was a staggering profit. "Deal, kid."
Part 2: Synthesis of Mercury Fulminate
Back in his shack, Arkan immediately locked the door. He lit a small oil lamp and placed the chemical bottles on a wooden table he had reinforced with a layer of synthesized carbon.
The greatest weakness of The Logistic and The Enforcer was their ignition mechanism. Using a slow-burning fuse in the heat of battle was suicide. He needed something instantaneous. He needed Primers.
Arkan took the Mercury (Hg) he had extracted from the Cinnabar by heating the ore and capturing the vapor molecularly. The silver liquid danced inside the glass bottle beautiful, yet lethal.
"Now for the difficult part," Arkan whispered to himself.
He began mixing the Mercury with the Nitric Acid, creating a solution of Mercuric Nitrate. Then, he added Ethanol obtained from distilling cheap leftover alcohol bought from a tavern the night before.
On Earth, this process required strict temperature control to prevent a premature explosion. Here, Arkan used his mana as a stabilizer.
[Molecular Architecture: Active]
Analysis: Nitration reaction in progress.
Temperature: 65°C... 78°C... 85°C...
Warning: Mana energy unstable. High risk of decoherence.
Arkan felt a throb in his temples. His vision began to blur. His mana capacity, a measly 5 points was a severe bottleneck. He had to split his focus: 50% on keeping the molecular structure stable, 40% on dampening the heat of the reaction, and 10% on maintaining his own consciousness.
"Stay... stable..."
Beads of sweat dripped from his chin, landing on the table. Inside the bottle, grayish-white crystals began to precipitate. This was Mercury Fulminate (Hg(CNO)2). A compound so sensitive to impact that one rough touch would level this shack.
After an hour that felt like a year, Arkan successfully isolated the crystals. He wiped his brow with a trembling sleeve.
"Next step: The Cartridge."
He didn't forge bullets one by one like a blacksmith. He used [Molecular Architecture] to shape brass (CuZn) sourced from scrap copper coins and zinc junk into precision shell casings. In the base of the shell, he placed a minute amount of Mercury Fulminate as a primer, filled it with his perfected gunpowder, and sealed it with a solid lead projectile.
Click.
A modern 12-gauge shotgun shell was born. In a world still relying on arrows and sorcery, this small object was the apocalypse in a cylinder.
Part 3: The Uninvited Guests
Just as Arkan was finishing his fifth shell, the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed from outside. These weren't the random steps of a villager. These were trained. Military.
CRASH!
The rickety door shattered. Three men in silver plate armor with navy blue cloaks entered. On their chest pieces was the emblem of a golden lion—the Knights of the Order of the Northern Light.
"Arkan, the Discarded Hero," said the man in the center. He had a scar along his jaw and carried a two-handed sword radiating a heat aura. "I am Captain Marcus. We received reports from black market traders that you are conducting forbidden magic experiments and harboring heretical weapons."
Silas, the one-eyed trader, appeared over Marcus's shoulder with a sickening grin. "Sorry, kid. They offered ten gold for info on the 'strange wizard.' Business is business."
Arkan didn't move. His hand remained on the table, inches from The Enforcer.
"Forbidden magic? I don't even have enough mana to light a candle, Captain. You threw me away because I was useless, remember? Why bother coming back now?"
Marcus glanced at the chemical bottles on the table. "You defeated a swarm of Iron Rats and humiliated the King's chosen heroes. That is not the work of a 'useless' person. The King does not like uncontrolled variables on his borders. You will come with us to the Capital for interrogation, or you will die here as a traitor."
Arkan sighed. "Interrogation at the hands of the Royal Executioner? I've already calculated the probabilities. My survival rate there is less than 0.04%. So, the answer is no."
"How dare you!" The knight to Marcus right drew his sword. "Kneel, or your head comes off!"
Part 4: Efficiency vs. Tradition
"Marcus," Arkan spoke in a voice so calm it felt like a lecture. "You've spent decades training with the sword. You worship mana as if it were a god. But you forget one thing: Your bodies are still made of fragile protein and calcium."
"Enough of this nonsense! Seize him!" Marcus commanded.
The knight on the right lunged. His speed was incredible, the result of mana-strengthened leg muscles. In a heartbeat, the tip of his sword was inches from Arkan's throat.
Arkan didn't dodge. He did something faster.
He snatched The Enforcer, his double-barrel shotgun and pulled the trigger. He didn't aim with his eyes, but with a spatial calculation he had mapped out the moment they stepped inside.
BOOM!
The sound wasn't like thunder magic. It was a mechanical detonation that deafened the ears. The cramped room was instantly filled with thick white smoke.
The lunging knight was blasted backward as if struck by an invisible giant's hammer. His prized silver armor, said to withstand Fireballs, was shredded. Dozens of steel pellets coated in corrosive bile pierced the gaps in his plate and tore through his muscle tissue.
"Gah... What... what is this..." The knight collapsed on the floor, blood seeping out rapidly. The corrosive slime bile reacted with the iron of his armor, emitting a foul-smelling green smoke.
Marcus was stunned. He felt no magic circuits activating. No mana gathering. "What weapon is that?! Are you using an ancient artifact?!"
"It's called science, Marcus," Arkan said, reloading the shell. The clack-clack of the shotgun closing sounded bone-chillingly cold in the silence. "And this is the second shot."
The second knight attempted to use a magic shield. A hexagonal yellow light appeared before him. "Holy Shield cannot be pierced by your toys!"
BOOM!!
Arkan fired directly at the center of the barrier. In physics, pressure is force divided by surface area (P = F/A). Arkan's shotgun shells didn't just carry massive kinetic force; he had used The Enforcer to fire copper-nickel alloy projectiles he had molecularly hardened.
The magic shield cracked. Not because its energy was depleted, but because the vibration frequency of Arkan's gunpowder explosion resonated with the shield's mana structure, causing it to shatter like glass hit by a hammer.
The knight was thrown against the shack's wall and knocked unconscious.
Part 5: A Deal in Blood
Only Marcus and Silas remained. Silas had already wet himself and was trying to crawl out through the broken door.
Marcus, the Captain, was trembling. He had watched his two best men defeated in seconds by a teenager who hadn't even broken a sweat. He raised his sword, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"You... you are a demon," Marcus whispered.
"No, Marcus. you and the kings are the real demons," Arkan stepped forward, the smoking muzzle of The Enforcer now pressed against Marcus's chest plate, directly over his heart. "I could pull this trigger right now, and your heart would be pulverized into protein mush before your brain could even process the pain. Is that what you want?"
Marcus lowered his sword. His knightly pride was annihilated. "What... what do you want?"
Arkan lowered the weapon slightly. "Go back to the Capital. Tell your King that Arkan died in an experimental explosion. Tell him this village is clean."
"He won't just believe that!"
"He will if you bring proof." Arkan picked up a piece of metal from his table, a mock hero badge he had crafted from cheap iron but engraved with an impossibly intricate pattern using his skill. "Take this. Tell him it's the only thing left of my corpse."
Marcus took the metal with a shaking hand. "Why are you letting me go?"
"Because killing you costs me one more bullet, and that bullet is currently worth more than your life," Arkan replied coldly. "Go. Now."
After Marcus dragged his comrades away, Arkan turned to Silas, who was still cowering on the ground.
"Silas," Arkan called.
"Yes... Yes, Master? Please don't kill me! I'll give back your silver! I'll give you my whole stock!"
"Get up," Arkan ordered. "I don't need your silver. I need your connections. You've seen my power. You have two choices: become my sales agent in the city's black market, or become my next biological experiment subject. Which will it be?"
Silas swallowed hard. "A-Agent. I will be your most loyal agent, Master Arkan."
Part 6: A New Vision
That night, after tidying his ruined shack, Arkan sat on the roof, gazing at stars different from the ones he knew on Earth.
He realized that staying in the Silent Village was no longer an option. The power he displayed today would soon attract unwanted attention. He needed a place more isolated, yet rich in resources.
He opened a map he had swiped from the pocket of one of the knights. His finger pointed to a vast area marked in blood-red:
The Deadwood Forest.
It was a high-level danger zone inhabited by monsters immune to ordinary magic. No human dared enter. But for Arkan, it was the ideal location.
"My mana sensors detected a very stable energy emission from beneath that forest last night," Arkan murmured. "That isn't mana. That's electromagnetic radiation from Uranium deposits and other rare minerals."
Arkan cracked a thin smile one that would make even a Demon King shiver.
"You want to fight with magic and swords? Go ahead. I'll build a nuclear reactor in the heart of that forest and advance this civilization a thousand years in a single decade."
The first step of the chemical revolution was complete. The second step was industrialization.
Arkan stood up, threw on his black cloak, and began packing his chemical tools. He didn't take much only the knowledge in his head and the weapon at his hip.
"The law of unequal exchange," he whispered to the night wind. "You gave me betrayal, and I will give you... the total destruction of your world order."