The Military Princess Won’t Fall in Love with a Magic Scientist

Chapter 199. Second-Generation Magitech Armor

Logaris raised a hand, and a rune emitting a faint silver glow appeared in his palm. Its structure was so intricate that it looked like a miniature galaxy slowly revolving, radiating a spatial fluctuation that made the heart tremble.

“After reaching the Sixth Tier, my understanding of space has undergone a qualitative transformation. Distance is no longer an insurmountable barrier to me. It is merely a set of coordinates that can be calculated.”

Logaris extended a long finger and gently pointed downward. The moment his fingertip touched the floor, an invisible ripple spread outward and instantly vanished beneath the ground.

“I’ve left a ‘spatial anchor point’ here. This is the core authority I comprehended after my advancement—[Absolute Coordinates].”

He turned around, looked at Sylvia, and pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose. A wickedly refined smile curled across his lips.

“No matter where I am, even if I’m thousands of kilometers away at the Great Southeastern Rift, as long as I wish it, I can activate an ultra-long-range teleportation and return to this room in an instant.”

Sylvia froze. Her silver-gray eyes, always filled with calculation and restraint, widened slightly in surprise.

As a mature politician, she understood the terrifying implications of this ability almost instantly.

It meant that any attempt to lure the tiger away from the mountain had become a complete joke. Though Logaris was nominally being transferred out of the Northern Territory, in reality he still remained a Sword of Damocles hanging above every enemy’s head.

“So...” Sylvia snapped out of it, excitement flickering in her eyes, though her tone carried a teasing edge. “You plan to spend the daytime at the southeastern border grinding levels, farming monsters, and swindling a massive amount of military funding from my idiotic second brother. Then at night, you can still find time to come back to Winter City for a midnight snack and casually deal with a few troublemakers who refuse to behave?”

“Bingo.” Logaris snapped his fingers, his smile becoming even brighter. “This is called making rational use of loopholes in the rules to maximize benefits on both sides. Well? Doesn’t this sound like a foolproof deal?”

Looking at the man before her, so confident he was almost arrogant, the last trace of Sylvia’s concern finally vanished.

“Then go ahead and do it.”

“As you command, Governor.”

The night quietly receded beneath their tacit understanding. When the first pale ray of dawn pierced through the heavy clouds and awakened the sleeping city of Winter City, the steel fortress had already taken on an entirely new face.

The next morning, Winter City was so cold that it felt as though a man’s lungs might freeze solid.

The north wind swept knife-like snowflakes across the empty drill ground, spinning them into whirling currents and filling the air with a shrill howl. Yet the training ground, which should have been noisy and bustling, was strangely silent. Only the wind echoed across it.

Three thousand men.

Their formation on the drill ground was sharply divided, each section distinct from the other.

In the front ranks stood two thousand combat soldiers, like two thousand silent black stakes hammered into the snow, utterly motionless.

They wore full-body armor, entirely black, its surface finished in a matte sheen.

This was the masterpiece personally led by Logaris in development and rushed out day and night from the assembly lines of the Heart of Winter Industrial Park—“Second-Generation Magitech Light Armor · Mass-Produced Model.”

To adapt to the high-intensity modern warfare that was about to come, this armor had abandoned the flashy but impractical decorative runes of old-fashioned knight armor. Every bit of cost had been poured into utility.

In addition to the basic formations for “Lightness,” “Durability,” and “Constant Temperature,” which allowed soldiers to maintain combat effectiveness even in extreme environments, Logaris had also etched a trigger-based “Emergency Aid” spellwork into the inside of the breastplate.

The moment it detected a sudden drop in the wearer’s vital signs, it would automatically release a healing spell, stimulate the secretion of adrenaline, and activate the Communication Magic Stone to send an alert to nearby comrades and rear support units.

And upon that fully enclosed visor, not only were “Night Vision” and “Poison Gas Filtration” modules integrated, it also carried a simple “Image Link” spellwork.

That spellwork could establish a mana link with the scope mounted on the Thunder Mark I Magitech Rifle, projecting the scope’s field of view directly onto the inside of the visor. This meant a soldier could remain concealed behind cover, exposing only the barrel of the rifle, and still deliver precise fire as if shooting blind. It ensured that this army could adapt to a complex battlefield under any weather and across any terrain.

From a distance, those two thousand frontline soldiers looked like rows of emotionless black iron cans, their entire bodies radiating a cold, murderous industrial beauty, armed to the teeth.

And behind those iron cans stood another thousand special soldiers in neat ranks, dressed in thick gray-white tactical work uniforms and carrying heavy magitech backpacks along with square toolboxes.

They were the “Field Technical Support Battalion” specially organized by Logaris.

The ammunition consumption of the Thunder Mark I Magitech Rifle was astonishing, and the wounded also required emergency treatment and medical care. In Logaris’s vision of war, these one thousand technical troops responsible for logistics and repairs were no less important than the two thousand riflemen in front who actually pulled the triggers.

Every soldier held a strange-looking black tube in his hands. The body of the rifle was crude and heavy, covered in dense lightning-conduction patterns that made the eyes spin, while the stock emitted a faint blue glow.

The Thunder Mark I Magitech Rifle, a magitech firearm based on the principle of electromagnetic acceleration.

Held in the hand, it felt heavy and clumsy, and looked less like a proper weapon than a bundle of iron rods meant for tending a fire. But to anyone who understood what they were seeing, it was the scythe of death.

On the raised platform—

Logaris stood with both hands in the pockets of his black coat, his gaze sweeping over the unusually configured force below. At the corner of his lips was the faintest trace of a satisfied smile.

Orderly and uniform. Commands obeyed without hesitation. Clear division of roles. A complete system.

This was the beauty of the assembly line.

This was the brutal aesthetics of industrialized warfare.

“This is what an army should look like,” Logaris thought to himself. “Much more pleasing to the eye than those noble private troops who do nothing but ride horses, shout nonsense, and rely on yelling to fight their battles.”

Standing behind him, General Victor stared fixedly at the black formation below. In those old eyes that had seen countless men, there flickered a nearly fanatical light mixed with a trace of loneliness.

As a battle-hardened Sixth-Tier Knight, he understood better than anyone what this army represented.

“Professor,” Victor finally said, his voice low and rough, “to be honest, looking at these boys leaves me with mixed feelings.”

He brushed a hand over the snow gathered on the railing and pointed at the young faces below. “A few months ago, they were still farmers who could barely hold a sword steady. If they met a real knight, they would only know how to drop to their knees and beg for mercy. But now... as long as these recruits don’t wet themselves and learn how to pull the trigger, even if a traditional knight order launched a full charge, I suspect half of them would be dead before they ever made it into range.”

Victor drew a deep breath, and his tone carried a faint mourning for the age that was passing away. “Ten years of bitter training in Battle Aura, and it still can’t compare to this single iron tube. It makes no sense. But it is also... terrifyingly powerful.”

“Doesn’t make sense?”

Logaris smiled and breathed out a plume of white mist. “War has never made sense, General Victor. It only cares about efficiency.”

He turned, patted Victor on the shoulder, and looked into the distance.

“Fear comes from insufficient firepower. Once these recruits realize that the things in their hands can effortlessly blast those lofty Battle Aura knights into chunks of meat, they’ll have more nerve than anyone.”

Logaris offered no further explanation.

He glanced at his pocket watch. It was about time.

“Tell Akash to lead them onto the train. I have some private business to take care of.”

As soon as he finished speaking, his entire body tilted backward, his form fading into the air at once, as though wiped away by an eraser, and he vanished on the spot.

Victor looked at the now-empty platform, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

Spatial Mages were damned convenient. They did not even have to bother walking.

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