Wandering Tech-Priest in Multiverse
TPM Chapter 87 – reasons for the drinking party

The next morning, Hephaestus sat alone in her chamber, studying a stack of papers. Though her hands moved with mechanical precision, her mind lingered on the events of the previous night.

A knock came—light, but deliberate.

The door creaked open before she could respond. Loki stepped inside, her usual smirk dulled by unspoken tension.

"So?" Loki asked, stepping over the threshold without her usual swagger. "Do you think last night's conversation was good enough for the Guild?"

Hephaestus didn't look up. She dipped a metal rod into a bucket of oil, the soft hiss briefly filling the silence.

"I already helped you create the situation you wanted," she replied coolly. "If that's not enough, there's nothing more I can do."

Loki leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her eyes sharp despite her relaxed stance. "A communication device and a new workshop—none of that explains what happened on the 18th floor."

Hephaestus remained silent. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of a document as she continued reading.

"You two seem... close," Loki added, her voice casual but probing. "Any insider information?"

"He's not a child, Loki. He is not going to spell forth every detail of his scheme just because someone asks," Hephaestus stated firmly.

Loki pulled himself away from the wall. "Then find out. Because since he left the Dungeon, the situation below the 18th floor has spiraled out of control. Monsters started rampaging—and now that word's getting out, it might cause real chaos."

Hephaestus looked up, sharply. "Let me guess. You're after information on his weapons—not his intentions."

Loki nodded. "Of course. His weapon killed a monster According to the reports, it was more powerful than any known magic weapon. It even terrified the Dungeon. Monsters didn't spawn above the 18th floor for a full day, while frantically overcompensating below it."

A pause.

Hephaestus closed the folder with deliberate calm. "That should be good news. We finally have a weapon capable of making the Dungeon flinch."

Loki's smirk returned—but thinner, almost brittle. "It's not we. It's Luthar. And now the Guild wants me to trace the source of those weapons."

"Wouldn't it be simpler to admit he's making them himself?" Hephaestus replied. "Smuggling something like that into Orario would be far more expensive—and far riskier."

At that, Loki turned and made her way to the door.

"Well I believe you for now" she said over her shoulder, "let's hope your rising star knows what kind of attention he's attracting."

With a flick of her fingers in mock farewell, she slipped out and left the church.

Her footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving only silence in her wake.

As she laft, within the lower level of the church compound, Luthar listened to the conversation between Hephaestus and Loki while working on disassembled components. A gentle hum from the secondary power core thrummed in the background, keeping the underground sanctum alive with energy.

For Hephaestus to offer him alcohol—knowing he couldn't digest it—and then invite Loki, was suspicious. Especially considering she'd asked about plans she already knew.

As he finished sealing a conduit with a final hiss of steam, the picture became clearer: the Guild had tasked Loki with investigating his weapons. To do so, she had sought Hephaestus' help. Together, they'd created a harmless setting to coax some information from him.

But why such trouble? For him, the Guild wasn't worth the effort. Their interference was a distraction from more urgent projects—particularly since Hephaestus hadn't finished her studies.

He was still lost in thought, considering the progress of both Hephaestus and Tsubaki, when the door opened. Hephaestus entered the chamber, her scarlet cloak flowing carelessly about her shoulders and her expression inscrutable. She did not respond right away. Instead, she observed him in silence, gaze flicking over the hardware and prototypes.

"I assume you overheard the conversation," she said finally, her voice low.

Luthar didn't look up. "Yes."

"She'll be back," Hephaestus continued. "And she won't be the only one."

"I think you're still misunderstanding something," Luthar said simply. "Since you've joined me, you shouldn't care what others are thinking."

"I'm not questioning you," she said, stepping closer. "But what happens when buyers come knocking? Or worse—when people try to blackmail you into handing over the designs?"

Luthar paused, then finally turned to face her.

"You need to study more," he said calmly. "Once you complete your studies, you'll realize the problems you're thinking of aren't the real ones."

"Maybe you're right," she muttered, almost to herself. "So... what you said last night—a real network across Orario. Are you really planning that, or was it just to throw Loki off?"

"I have no intention of misleading anyone," Luthar replied. "Building a communication network will be very useful in managing my assets."

Hephaestus blinked. Then—after a moment—she gave a small nod. "It's good that you're thinking ahead. But is there another plan you couldn't share last night?"

"Using the last remaining dimensional machine parts to create a better version," he said. "A prototype will be ready within the week."

"Are you going to invite Freya again?" she asked, arms crossed. "You seem to be getting close to her... close enough that I'm starting to wonder if she's actually managed to charm you."

Luthar turned to her, with the steady purpose of someone who had made his decision long ago.

"I don't need to be charmed by Freya," he said, voice low but certain. "If there's anyone in this city who could actually charm me—it's you."

Hephaestus blinked, caught off guard—not by the words, but by the quiet certainty behind them.

Before she could respond, his arms slipped around her—not forcefully, but gently. The scent of oil and metal clung to both of them, grounding, familiar.

She stood still for a moment, feeling the warmth in her chest more than any flame in the room.

Then, with a soft exhale, she nudged him away lightly—just enough to free herself.

"I guess you're learning too much from Freya," she muttered, adjusting her collar.

"I haven't learned anything from her," he replied with a faint smile. "But if you want, I could ask her for a few tips."

Hephaestus smirked despite herself, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Unfortunate. No matter what you learn from her, it still won't help you win my heart."

Luthar didn't continue with the flirting, Instead, he stepped back to the workbench and retrieved a scroll of newly inked schematics. The rustle of parchment filled the room as he unrolled the design—dense with circuits, structural diagrams, and etheric inscriptions.

He gestured casually to the blueprint.

"Dimensional portal... bridge... stabilizer," he said, almost offhandedly. "Too many names. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore."

Hephaestus raised an eyebrow. "You keep renaming your machines?"

"I build them," Luthar replied dryly. "Naming's someone else's problem."

He didn't look back at her, but added, "Now we need to figure out how to strengthen the materials we're using. I need this one to be far more stable."

With that, the two of them began dividing the tasks—Hephaestus handling enchantments, and Luthar handling the technology side..

And so, they got back to work.