Three days passed.
The Starforge prototype remained hidden beneath my workshop, quietly humming in its containment cradle. Its mana signature was stabilized, masked beneath layers of aetheric dampeners and shielding runes I'd written myself—adapted from both Earth encryption logic and ancient royal wardcraft.
But I knew the silence wouldn't last.
Power always draws attention. Especially power that dares to change the rules.
It began with a summons.
A golden scroll, delivered by a trembling palace servant, stamped with the obsidian seal of the Inner Court.
To His Highness, Prince James Virel, Heir of Flame and Star,
You are hereby ordered to cease and dismantle all unauthorized magical engineering efforts pertaining to interdimensional or "void-based" devices.Appear before the Magelords of the Inner Court within three days to account for your actions.Noncompliance will be considered treason against the Crown and Cosmos.
— High Arcanist Velmion of the 7th Spire
— Grand Magister Curane
— Sealed in the name of the Aether Concord
I read the message once.
Then burned it in my hand.
"War it is," I said.
The Inner Court was a relic.
An ancient circle of mages, founded when this kingdom first discovered the ley lines beneath the continent. They governed magical law, oversaw sacred rituals, and hoarded spellcraft like dragons hoard gold.
They were brilliant.
And they were terrified of me.
They should be.
I gathered my inner circle: Joseph, of course; Lady Kaethe, my mother's old knight and now my defense lead; and Lord Baen, the only technomancer within the capital who didn't think "mana reactor" meant "heresy."
I explained the plan.
"I'm not shutting it down," I said. "I'm expanding it."
"You'll be arrested," Kaethe growled. "Tried. Possibly executed."
"No," Joseph said, smiling faintly. "He won't. Because by the time the court acts, the people will already know what he's built. And they will want it."
Two nights later, we did the impossible.
We turned on the Manaforge Core—a hybrid engine using magical crystals and plasma coils, capable of powering not just ships, but entire cities.
The core roared to life beneath the southern hills.
We lit the city of Virelia in pale-blue daylight.
No more spell-tax. No more fragile sunstones or ley-siphoning towers.
Just free, stable energy.
The people flooded the square the next morning.
They didn't cry heresy.
They cried hope.
The Inner Court reacted like cornered beasts.
I stood before them in the Grand Hall three days later, dressed not in royal silks—but in my own custom armor. A new design: sleek, polished mana-steel, and embedded with micro-runes that pulsed with the Starforge's first heartbeat.
"Prince James," Grand Magister Curane said, voice like gravel soaked in venom. "What you have done violates the Binding Accord."
"I never signed your Accord," I replied. "And neither did the people of Virelia."
Arcanist Velmion's staff began to glow. But I raised my hand.
A ripple surged through the chamber.
The System responded.
STARFORGE SIGNAL LINKED
Manaforge Network Status: ACTIVE
Current Output: 110% – Stable
Defensive Protocol: Online
"I've changed the game," I told them. "This world won't run on fear and secrets anymore. It will run on progress. On knowledge. On light."
And then I broadcast the entire conversation to the public.
Every word.
The Inner Court didn't strike that day.
They couldn't.
Their very walls had become stage and spectacle, and their dogma had become dust.
Quest Complete: "Defy the Inner Court"
Reputation Gained: +800 (Commoners), +500 (Young Mages), -1,000 (Inner Court)
New Title Unlocked: "Architect of the Dawn"
Level Up: 33 → 34
+5 Stat Points – Assigned: Strength +1 | Mana +4
That night, Aelya slipped into my chamber, holding a glowing schematic I'd left on the war table.
Her eyes were serious. Bright. Afire.
"Will I get my own ship one day?" she asked.
I ruffled her hair.
"You'll build your own fleet."