Chapter 68 | Born as a Dragon, Sorry About That?

The Equipment Department.

Right now, thunderous snoring echoed through the area, so loud that not even the ambient clatter and clang of machinery could drown it out.

The source of the snoring was Gar, a beastkin who was fast asleep, sprawled over a pile of spare parts.

As the newly appointed Minister of the Equipment Department, he never could have imagined that just as he finally found a place to showcase his talents, news of an impending war would arrive.

Having been enslaved by humans since childhood, he knew all too well that if they lost this war, those greedy humans would undoubtedly try to enslave them again. His compatriots would be dragged right back to that living hell.

To prevent that from happening, he hadn't dared to stop for a single moment over the past three months, working day and night to forge power armor.

Under the immense pressure, a single long, thin cowlick had miraculously sprouted from his otherwise bald head.

It swayed back and forth whenever a breeze blew past.

In truth, if the little dragon girl hadn't been worried he might drop dead from exhaustion, transformed him into a dragonborn, and bought a massive stockpile of stamina potions from traveling merchants before they evacuated to keep him going, what sprouted on Gar's head wouldn't have been a cowlick, but grave grass.

Yet even with the triple boost of stamina potions, a dragonborn physique, and the magical AI Mia, three months was still far too short.

Excluding those with zero blacksmithing experience who could only handle odd jobs, the entire Equipment Department, including him as the minister, numbered fewer than fifty people.

Prioritizing quantity over quality, they had only managed to churn out a little over three hundred sets of standard power armor, along with one custom dragon-type power armor.

Of these, the dragon-type power armor was by far the most grueling. Even with the aid of Gar's highly unscientific yet extremely magical power of "I reckon," it had still taken him a full month and a half to put together.

The moment the dragon-type power armor was completed, Gar finally hit his limit and collapsed into the pile of spare parts.

His sleep was exceptionally restless.

In his daze, he seemed to hear someone calling his name.

“Is the old god of the beastkin coming to guide me to the divine kingdom?” Gar thought in his dream.

“I reckon I've probably worked myself to death. I wonder if His Grace will erect a monument to remember me...”

“I have no regrets in this life...”

Yet, when he forced his heavy eyelids open, what he saw was... a dragon's head wearing floral underpants on its head.

“Hey, you're awake! Congratulations, you're a female beastkin now,” Daviel said cheerfully, pulling out a pair of black thigh-high stockings. “Come on, put these on and be crowned king!”

“Uh...”

For a moment, Gar wondered if he was still dreaming, or if he had been cast straight down into Baator.

Otherwise, why would he see such a sanity-shattering sight the second he opened his eyes?

It wasn't until his vision finally focused and he spotted the little dragon girl inspecting the rows of power armor behind the little black dragon that he suddenly jumped up.

“Y-Your Grace!”

Ignoring Daviel completely, Gar shoved aside the little black dragon who was trying to slip the stockings over his head and bolted toward Irene in the distance.

“Hmm?”

Irene turned around, only to see Gar stumble and slide on his knees right in front of her, the cowlick on his head swaying wildly back and forth.

It looked just like a piece of seaweed tossing about in the ocean waves...

Having seen her fair share of bizarre sights, the little dragon girl didn't bat an eye. She nodded. “You're awake. You've worked hard lately.”

“It was nothing, nothing at all!” Gar scrambled up nervously. He grabbed a bottle of stamina potion handed over by one of his subordinates, poured it all down his throat, and swallowed it with a loud gulp.

Wiping his mouth, the beastkin looked instantly revitalized, and even the cowlick on his head stood up straight and firm.

“Your Grace, you're here to see the dragon-type power armor, right?”

Seeing Irene nod, Gar tossed the empty potion bottle aside and jogged ahead to lead the way. “I only just finished your power armor.”

“I haven't had the time to study the gear we brought back from the ancient beastkin spaceship yet. To be honest, I'm not really cut out for researching that kind of stuff.”

“Just working out this dragon-type power armor took me over a month. It was so hard without anyone to help me. I had to reckon everything out all by myself. I've nearly run out of brainpower!”

A look of pure agony washed over his face as he spoke.

“If you give me a blueprint or a finished piece of gear to modify, I can reckon how to change it. But if you want me to take things apart and figure out all the complicated inner workings, I'm really no good at it.”

“So, as it stands, this power armor can only boost your strength and speed and add some defense. It doesn't have many extra offensive capabilities.”

“Also, I noticed the original power armor uses a special alloy. I couldn't reckon what it was, so I had to use ordinary metal instead.”

“Will that... interfere with my spellcasting?” Irene asked after a brief silence. As a black dragon who had multiclassed into a mage, her spellcasting ability was already on par with her naturally powerful physical strength as her primary combat asset, perhaps even slightly exceeding it.

After all, raining down long-range fire was much safer than engaging in close-quarters physical combat.

“Uh, about that...” Gar stopped in his tracks, grabbing a hemp rope and licking his lips. “I reckon it shouldn't affect it. The principle of the power armor is just using mana to connect those drive shafts and boost your own strength.”

“I've tested it on the standard power armor. As long as you have leftover mana after supplying the power armor's movement, you can cast spells as usual.”