Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World-Chapter 30: Adrian the Teacher

Adrian woke up to the soft glow of dawn filtering through his window, the Borin estate quiet except for the distant chirp of morning birds.

He stretched his limbs, his body refreshed after a deep, dreamless sleep.

He rose next, took his bath with a bucket filled with water, and dressed in a clean tunic.

A knock soon came, and a maid delivered a tray of warm bread, cheese, and spiced tea for his breakfast. Adrian ate quickly, savoring the solitude.

When he was done with the food, he reached into his [Inventory], retrieving the clock he’d crafted in Tulia. Its gears ticked reliably, but its size was a nuisance.

"Still no portable timepiece," he muttered, shaking his head. "Maybe I’ll tackle that next." He noted the time — 10:05 a.m.— and returned the clock to his [Inventory], satisfied he wasn’t running late.

Determined to start his work, Adrian left his room to find Torren. A maid polishing a hallway mirror pointed him toward the stables, where Torren was overseeing a horse’s shoeing.

The messenger’s lean frame straightened as Adrian approached. "Master Adrian," Torren said, bowing slightly. "Slept well, I trust?"

"Well enough," Adrian replied with a neutral but friendly tone. "Ready to take me to the workshop?"

"Of course," Torren said, gesturing toward the estate’s eastern wing. They walked through manicured gardens, the air crisp with dew, and entered a stone building marked by a heavy iron door.

The Eastern Workshop was vast, its high ceiling supported by wooden beams. Forges glowed at one end, their heat mingling with the scent of molten metal.

Shelves brimmed with iron ingots, oak planks, and tools — hammers, chisels, anvils, even rare crystal-cutting blades. It was more than Adrian had expected, a craftsman’s paradise.

Torren clapped his hands, and ten men assembled swiftly, their aprons stained from prior work. They ranged in age from young adults to grizzled veterans, their eyes sharp with focus.

"Master Adrian," Torren began, his voice carrying authority, "these are the dukedom’s finest craftsmen, handpicked by His Grace. They’re skilled in metalwork, and carpentry. Men, this is Master Adrian, your instructor. Listen well and treat him with utmost respect."

He gave Adrian a nod and departed, leaving the workshop in his hands.

Adrian surveyed the space, impressed by its resources. The men stood in a neat line, their expressions a mix of curiosity and determination.

He could tell they were seasoned, which was good because he’d need their skill to translate his designs into reality. He’d spent the previous night in Tulia drafting a teaching plan and he already had a clear idea on how to proceed.

Adrian faced the men. "I’m Adrian. I’ll be teaching you to build my designs. If we work well, you’ll make things this dukedom’s never seen. Questions before we start?"

A burly man with a graying beard stepped forward. "Name’s Gavrin; a 2-Star Fire Mage. Been forging for thirty years. What kind of work are we doing? Weapons? Tools?"

Adrian nodded and restrained a smile, fully aware they suspected be had weapons. "Only tools. We’ll start with something simpler, a clock. It tracks time with gears and weights. Ever built anything like that?"

Gavrin scratched his chin. "Clocks?" He seemed like he wanted to add something but eventually kept quiet and decided not to question.

"You’ll realize their use soon. Don’t worry," Adrian said, unrolling a parchment schematic from his satchel.

"Let’s talk design first." He spread the drawing on a workbench and signalled for the men to gather around him.

The schematic detailed a gear-driven clock with a pendulum, its components labeled in his neat script.

"This is the escapement — it controls the gear speed. Weights drive it, and the pendulum keeps rhythm. Every piece has to be exact, or it won’t keep time."

A younger craftsman, wiry with quick eyes, spoke up. "I’m Lir. That gear there," he pointed, "how tight’s the tolerance? Looks like it needs perfect teeth."

"Good eye," Adrian said. "Tenth of an inch, no more. I’ll show you how to measure." g.

Adrian decided to learn more, building trust. "Gavrin, you said thirty years forging. What’s your specialty?"

"Armor, mostly," Gavrin replied, warming to the question. "Made plate for enchanters. Some blades, too. Starsteel’s my favorite."

"Starsteel?" Adrian’s interest piqued. "That’s rare. You have access to it here?"

"Yes. We’ve got enough in Varyn," Gavrin replied with a nod.

Adrian nodded in agreement, but within him he had other thoughts. ’I was right. It’s better he’s not keeping everything to himself though; that way the inventions would expand more... More EXP for me!’

"Lir, what about you?" Adrian finally asked, turning to the younger man.

"Woodcarving," Lir answered, paving way for Adrian to ask the rest of their specialties too.

By the time he was done with his little survey, Adrian found out that most of these men either worked with metals or wood, with a few dealing with glass too; which was nice for him.

"Alright, let’s build. Gavrin, you and three others start on the gears, iron for now. Lir, take two men and carve the oak frame. Rest of you, prep the weights and pendulum. I’ll walk you through each step."

The men split into groups, their movements practiced. Adrian circulated, explaining the gear-cutting process to Gavrin’s team, showing Lir how to align the frame’s joints, and checking the weights for balance.

The craftsmen were sharp, their hands steady as they followed his lead. When a man fumbled a measurement, Adrian corrected gently, and the group adjusted without grumbling. Their skill and humility impressed him, making his work easier than usual.

By afternoon, twenty clocks stood assembled, its gears clicking in a harmonized rhythm.

The craftsmen, filled with sweat and dust, stepped back, their faces alight with pride.

Adrian, who’d mostly guided rather than labored was in a much better shape, but the day’s intensity called for a breather.

He clapped his hands, drawing their attention.

"Well done," he said, his voice carrying over the workshop’s fading echoes. "You’ve built something the dukedom’s never seen. These clocks are just the start. Take an hour to rest — you’ve earned it."

Gavrin hesitated before saying. "No need, Master Adrian. We’re good to keep going." The others supported what he said with an enthusiastic shout.

Adrian raised an eyebrow at them. "I need to rest too, you know. The break is not only for you."

The men froze, then laughed awkwardly to break the tension.

"Right, sorry. One hour it is." Gavrin glanced at the nearest clock, its hands pointing to 1:37 p.m., and added, "So, by 2:37 p.m., then, like you taught us."

"Correct," Adrian said, nodding approvingly. Their quick adoption of clock-based timing was a small victory. "I’ll be back in an hour."

As he turned to leave, a thought struck him. ’Tech Core, can you keep track of time?’ he asked inwardly.

A digital clock appeared in his status interface, its numbers glowing: ’

[1:38 p.m.]

A notification followed:

[Affirmative. Internal chronometer activated.]

Adrian’s eyes widened. "Wow," he muttered in surprise. "Never knew you could do that. Guess I don’t need a portable timepiece anymore. Remind me when an hour’s up."

[Sure]