Museum Core Chapter 99: The Forge

Thomas’ next stop was the HMS Belfast, reanimated by his power into a mechanical champion of his dungeon. A mobile champion, that could be sent anywhere in the world and spawn monsters there, as long as she hadn’t been boarded, of course.

But the original Belfast hadn’t been nearly powerful enough to be used in direct combat, despite the enhancement she’d received upon becoming a champion.

Which was why he needed to reshape her into something better, something stronger, something more akin to a battleship in an era where aircraft carriers ruled the seas … and a design that wouldn’t get torn to shreds by the first engineer to lay eyes upon it.

So he’d decided to outsource the problem.

Reid Grant was only one of the several engineers with relevant specialities that had been sent his way, but he was the one Thomas got along with the best.

The Canadian man was of average height and typically wore tough, utilitarian clothing with plenty of pockets, each filled with countless tools and gadgets, making him look like a mechanic despite the fact that the only items he used were a pen and scratchpad.

And he had a ring on his right pinkie that, apparently, was an engineer thing since it would always rub against any paper he wrote on, a constant “irritation,” acting as an eternal reminder of the responsibility he had as an engineer.

Because when engineers fucked ip, bridges crumbled, vehicles exploded, and buildings collapsed.

In other words … people died when engineers made mistakes.

And while the consequences of the Belfast blowing up or sinking would be reversible as long as there wasn’t anyone aboard, there was little reason to not be as fastidious here, which was why this had taken so long.

“Basically, we started out with the Incomparable design principle, and then … well, made some improvements based on what you’ve told us about your capabilities,” Grant began, then paused.

“Incomparable? Isn’t that a bit …” Thomas trailed off, not sure how to politely say “you sound arrogant beyond belief.”

“HMS Incomparable was a theoretical design that never wound up being put into production since it wouldn’t have worked at the time. But between it and several post-World War Two concepts that, again, weren’t viable at the time, I believe we’ve managed to make the best vessel we could.”

The man was starting to give off “toddler on a sugar high presenting an art project” vibes, both proud and incredibly jittery. Thomas decided against commenting, merely motioning to continue.

“In essence, our job was to create a vessel that takes full advantage of its capabilities and limitations as a dungeon champion. Automated systems that negate the need for a crew, the ability to freely generate munitions and other supplies, massively reducing the requirement for cargo space, and the fact that we have barely any limits on what materials we can use.

“But at the same time, the Belfast is a fundamentally magical creation, filled with ambient mana that will fry any advanced technology in short order, meaning we will have to achieve the same function with magic alone.”

Thomas had his avatar nod. The creature in question was a tiny velociraptor, barely larger than a chicken, its feathers absurdly fluffy, its eyes larger than normal, and overall ticking every point in the human brain’s “requirements for cuteness” checklist. Also, that same power nixed its ability to hurt people or damage properties, which made leaving the monster in the lab safe, even when he wasn’t controlling it directly, and making sure it didn’t make a mess of things.

Of course, that meant he’d given a bunch of nerds, most of whom had either had, or were still, in a “love all things dinosaurs” phase, an actual living, tame dinosaur. Which meant that he’d looked elsewhere for not even twenty-four hours, and the raptor had been named, adopted, and even given a tiny lab coat.

Not that he could blame them, he’d have done the exact same in their position, though some of them were now glaring at him anytime he was using their pet as what was, in effect, a phone.

“So, what is your final design?”

“Like I said, we based this ship on Incomparable, and post World War Two battleships, which leaned heavily towards weaponry while cutting the armor down to dangerous levels. I’m talking ‘unable to take a destroyer’s shells.’

“But, that’s where the fact that the Belfast is a dungeon champion comes in. We can place four triple-turrets with twenty-inch guns aboard the deck as the main armament, those are the largest ever mounted to a warship. We’re also taking advantage of automation so we can use the interior of the turrets as storage space, which both means you don’t need large ammo stores below deck and that if something does detonate the munitions, much of the blast will be directed up and out, rather than tearing the vessel open like what happened during its previous engagement. A few design choices will ensure that.

“Now, normally, we’d have to cut mass that from the armor to allow for such heavy guns, which was the major problem with the earlier designs, but considering our new opportunities, we can make those cuts literally everywhere else, leaving us with an extremely low ship holding heavy armament and using a borderline absurd armorbelt and keel as a counterweight against recoil and to prevent the ship from getting too top-heavy.”

Grant handed over an artist’s rendering of the ship. It was, well, very shallow, far wider than it was tall, and there was what seemed like an unusual amount of space on either side of the turret, none of which looked especially large, though that was almost certainly down to lacking something to scale it against. There were secondary guns present, but they were utterly dwarfed by the main weaponry.

What he wasn’t seeing was a proper air defense. Or a strategy for how to fight the ship in real combat. So he asked.

“You’ll have magically aimed twenty-inch shells firing materials made from ranked metals. There’ll be very little that can stand against you directly. And as for long-range fire … I don’t think you realize just how absurd ranked metals are compared to regular materials. When we talk about giving the Belfast defenses, it’s more a matter of principle than necessity. It won’t be the navies of the world that’ll be a threat to you. But we did come up with a good solution for air defense, too,” Grant hurried to explain.

Thomas just waited for him to continue.

“We’ve created two solutions here. The first is that the secondary weaponry is, in fact, capable of rapid-fire, and I’m sure that some kind of proximity shells can be magically created, right?”

Thomas nodded again. “But I’m not sure that’ll be enough. Not against powered, maneuverable, high-speed projectiles.”

“That’s what those are there for,” Grant said, tracing his finger across the deck, which had an odd dimpled design that Thomas had assumed to be mere artistic license. But before he had to ask the man to bloody well get on with it, the engineer explained.

“These are an entire layer of single-use grapeshot canisters, capable of being triggered in the launcher or fired at an enemy and then triggered at a set distance from the ship. You’ll pretty quickly start to lose coverage as you use them, but this is a whole lot of steel you can put between the ship and enemy missiles or aircraft and as a dungeon core, you’ll be able to refill them any time there isn’t an enemy right in your face.”

“Well, that’s certainly something. But are there any drawbacks to the design?” Thomas asked. He’d spotted one immediately and was starting to look askance upon a couple more issues, but in his mind, the biggest question was if and how they would be addressed by the designer.

“Well, up first, we’ve obviously got the issue of supplies. Anytime you take passengers along, you won’t have nearly enough space to store food and other necessities, which means said passengers will have to be repeatedly kicked out so more supplies can be generated.”

Thomas nodded. That had actually been the thing he’d spotted, but Grant wasn’t done.

“And you’ll have a similar issue with munitions. Your weapons will have significant internal magazines, but those fall short of what a normal battlecruiser would have. If the Belfast were to find herself in a close-range slugging match with a durable enemy and is unable to respawn shells, there might be trouble. But once again, with the sheer firepower of this design, it’s highly unlikely it’ll come to that.

“Finally, this is a very low design; the ship could get swamped. And there’s a lot of mass on her deck. The armor’s weight will keep her right-side up even if she gets hit by a tsunami, but we’re in uncharted waters here. The Belfast could easily wind up hit by something far stronger than that.”

Feeling as though he’d turned into a bobblehead, Thomas nodded.

“I suppose, but there are a whole lot of mythical threats out there, most of which we have no idea about. Let’s prepare for what we know about, and do our best to prepare for what we suspect to be out there, but falling into doomsaying won’t help. Also, what happened to the other design?”

“Oh, that,” Grant grinned. “That was, in fact, much easier. It’s already done.”

He handed over another sheath of paper.

“This’ll be the largest submarine ever built, powered entirely by magic, with a crush depth so deep you won’t find it anywhere on this planet.

“Her primary armament in this form will be based on the Kaiten torpedoes, which were crewed torpedoes used by the Japanese in the Second World War, modified to be controlled by dungeon creatures, though we’ve also added turrets to the top side that can be extended when the vessel is at the surface.

“Of course, you will be entirely dependent upon magic for all functions, including navigation and oxygen restoration, but I believe you said that was covered.”

Thomas nodded yet again. Enchanting something to make oxygen was easy, and for navigation, he had a world map in his core room that always displayed the Belfast’s exact location due to a link between the pair, making navigation easy.

Overall, it was a very “simple” design.

A massive cigar-shape, as small as the Belfast could be altered to be, which still made for a truly titanic vessel, with several engines dotting the exterior to give it decent maneuverability, and enough torpedo tubes all over the place that it would take minimal repositioning to be able to fire at almost any angle.

As Grant had said, it also had some guns that could be used when the ship surfaced, as well as several different means of egress should the main hatch on the top not be accessible for whatever reason.

And everything else was magical. The air purification, the radar-absorbing hull, the ability to blend into the background … the ship could become effectively invisible, a void in the ocean, at the drop of a hat. Because that was what the submarine was, a stealthy means of transport to strike at any place that needed striking. Such as a certain Slavic nation that liked to subsidize vodka production so that its population would be too drunk to cause trouble.

The submarine also had far more extensive storage facilities as, well, the ship was meant for stealth operations, in the deep sea no less. Kicking everyone out so he could manifest more victuals would be a lot less feasible than in the battlecruiser design.

“Thank you,” Thomas finally said, using his avatar to awkwardly scoop up the two manila file folders containing the blueprints. “I’ll make these right now.”

***

Hellfast (C-Rank, unrankable)

A dungeon champion, forged from an ancient warship, empowered through human creativity and a dungeon core’s magic.

This vessel sports twelve immensely powerful 20-inch naval guns distributed across four turrets, heavy armor capable of laughing off those same guns, a layer of single-shot defensive grapeshot canisters across the entire deck, and a spirit-driven engine capable of outdoing literally any modern ship.

It holds enchantments for stabilization, magical aiming, friction reduction, and self-repair.

Energy draw: tiny to immense, based on the number of activated systems

Yes, the name was just a dumb pun, but it made him laugh. And since he was the only one who’d ever see it … why not do it?

The final product was large, wide, bristling with weapons, and, quite frankly, would never have worked without magic. But he did have magic, so that was a moot point.

Although that did trigger a new concern. With how strong his ability to project power outside of his dungeon had gotten, he would likely start to be seen as an actual direct threat by some … but there wasn’t much he could do about any of that.

And it wasn’t like many people knew about his second design, which would have doubtlessly caused an even greater kerfuffle, had it become a known factor.

Because, well, nuclear weaponry could be built as a shockingly low-tech affair. And even if it hadn’t been, a simple demon core delivered by a dungeon creature, made by literally slapping together two half-spheres of tungsten carbide around a mass of plutonium, would have been perfectly doable right here and now.

The sphere would reflect the neutrons from the fissionable material within back inside, rapidly inducing a chain reaction. As for the name … well, there had been certain accidents involving this exact kind of device.

But that wasn’t why the second version of the ship had been made.

Stealthfast (C-Rank, unrankable)

A dungeon champion, forged from an ancient warship, empowered through human creativity and a dungeon core’s magic.

This submarine is capable of reaching any point on the planet’s oceans, is equipped with dozens of torpedo tubes, and has enough storage space to feed its passengers for nearly a decade.

It holds enchantments for constant air replenishment, magical lighting, self-repair, magical navigation and geolocation, magical camouflage, and a supernatural ability to block all attempts to locate it via radar.

Energy draw: tiny to immense, based on the number of activated systems

And this one was … well, honestly, he’d felt he’d locked himself into a naming scheme, and not felt like changing that.

Thomas had also completed a third form based on plans he’d gotten for the Bismark, to be used as the enemy in the raid he’d set up at the Belfast’s original mooring point. He’d named that form “Punching Bag,” so that was how it showed up in his System-generated list.

But ultimately, he was a dungeon, perpetually bonded to the Natural History Museum.

And as such, that was the source of his magic, the seat of his power, the heart of his domain. The thing he’d build everything around. The warship he was currently evolving into ever more powerful or capable forms … that was simply a bonus.

It was a seriously nice bonus, though. And he’d be using it to put his boot up the asshole of the bastards who’d tried to kill him, come next week.

Of course, Thomas wasn’t the only one making magical advances.

The Gearhead Class was also actually being used to its fullest extent. Rather than fighting by temporarily up-ranking their firearms, they stayed back and worked on creating magical machinery.

Upon hitting E-Rank, one of the potential powers that could be taken was the ability to pour mana into any mundane material to uplift it into becoming a magic one, up to the caster’s rank, though the cost would rapidly become prohibitive.

In other words, given time, humanity could start to build its own magical gear, though that was sadly not enough to stand up against ranked humans. Because while materials that gained ranks simply had their original properties enhanced and amplified, system-users grew in two separate ways, gaining both powers and stats. Sure, an F-Rank gun shot at an F-Rank human was still quite dangerous, but if that human had a defensive power, or a stat-distribution slanted towards physical durability, it was a whole other story.

Yet it wasn’t for the likes of Deputy Director Abrams that these devices were being made. It was for the average person, the one who had not had the chance to wrest seemingly godlike power from the universe. Even if the currently present transformation zones were all the magic that ever entered the world … the Earth had already been forever altered.