Toward the end of the 3600s, people emerged who rejected magi-craft and championed the supremacy of pure magic.
In the year 3748, Golbart Marukitasu split Nostalgia down the middle and established the Magic Federation.
From there, the Magic Federation gained influence through its pursuit of bettering the world solely through magical techniques. Sensing the growing danger, Laojun sealed Hourai Island in the year 3765.
Roughly fifty years prior—around the time those preaching magic supremacy were first forming their faction—the descendants of the Jin Family, eager to avoid being dragged into the turmoil, willingly fled to Onogoro Island, which was under the stewardship of Marikka of the All-Creation clan.
However, those descendants had multiplied into the hundreds over time. Across successive generations, the bloodline had thinned to mere fractions of a percent, leaving many who could hardly claim to be "descendants of the Jin Family" with any confidence.
After nine generations, the lineage was diluted to one-512th; after ten, to one-1024th. At that point, they were scarcely blood relatives at all.
Such individuals did not evacuate to Onogoro Island, nor did they draw the attention of the Magic Federation.
Instead, they continued to live among the common folk as magi-craftsmen who were merely "a cut above the rest."
When non-Adriana-style Golems enjoyed a surge of popularity, they readily seized the opportunity.
Blessed with an inherited foundation of knowledge and technical skill, they soon earned a reputation as master golem artisans.
Yet that very fame ultimately made them targets of the Magic Federation in an entirely different manner.
The year was 3705.
"...Lately, I can't shake the feeling we're in danger."
"I agree. It seems this place isn't safe anymore."
Having established a shared workshop, they were quick to realize that the Magic Federation had set its sights on them.
"...What do you say we pack up and head for the western frontier?"
"Good point. It might be the ideal place to lay low."
"I doubt even the Magic Federation would bother pursuing us out there."
With their course decided, they resolved to relocate.
The western frontier was still eager for new settlers, and craftsmen received particularly favorable treatment, so making the move posed no difficulties.
"...It really is still in the middle of development, isn't it?"
Those were their very first words upon laying eyes on the frontier.
In total, twelve of them had made the journey.
Each and every one traced their distant lineage back to a member of the Jin Family.
They referred to themselves as the Progressers.
They chose to settle in the Jagus Region, where the terms offered to them were the most generous.
By this time, the direct blood relatives of the Jin Family had already found refuge on Onogoro Island, though the Progressers had no way of knowing this.
"We never expected resources to be this scarce."
That proved to be their greatest miscalculation.
The local prices of metallic ores and magi-crystals had soared to twenty times what they were accustomed to.
Since magi-crystals were compact, they had brought a considerable hoard with them, which would keep them supplied for a time. But there was nothing they could do about the lack of metals.
Before long, the Progressers were thoroughly destitute.
The magi-devices, magi-machines, and golems forged by their techniques undoubtedly boasted exceptional performance,
yet they were correspondingly expensive.
A single golem cost as much as an ordinary pioneer's entire annual income.
In a fledgling settlement struggling to develop, practically no one had that kind of gold to throw around.
In the year 3710, a turning point arrived for the struggling Progressers.
Maksimovich Almazov Melkana, an immigrant from the Pandor Continent, stepped forward to become their patron.
Untouched by the influence of the Magic Federation, he swiftly climbed the social ladder by wielding both magic and magi-craft in tandem.
As his standing rose, so did his wealth—and with it, the financial backing he poured into the Progressers.
Throughout this period, the Progressers crafted an array of magi-devices to support Maksimovich Almazov Melkana.
While basic survival was certainly a factor, what truly moved them was his resolve to "carry on the will of his ancestors," a sentiment that deeply resonated with their own.
Truth be told, the Progressers quietly cherished the pride of being descendants of the Magi Craft Meister.
Even if their blood was thin and their skills paled in comparison to the direct line, they never abandoned the burning desire to prove themselves one day.
That ambition to "show the world what they were made of" mirrored the Melkana branch house's yearning to eventually surpass the head house.
Lauren Continental Calendar year 3780—Continental Calendar year 201.
As more generations passed, the ranks of the Progressers had dwindled to half their original number.
Niestol Almazov Melkana, the head of house of the Melkana family at the time, had secured the position of third-in-command within the Pioneer Revolutionary Corps, thanks in part to the Progressers' steadfast support.
"The harvests are coming in without trouble, but if only we could do something about this dire lack of mineral resources..."
To that end, Niestol tirelessly surveyed the territory in search of viable ore deposits.
It had become customary for him to always bring along one member of the Progressers as an escort during these journeys.
Incidentally, the achievements and contributions of the Progressers were never recorded in official histories.
"You're certain there is an ore deposit in this mountain?"
"Yes, Lord Niestol."
Genehalt, one of the Progressers accompanying him, gave a firm nod.
"Faint though it may be, I can cast Grand Search. According to what I sense, there are metallic signatures midway up this mountain."
"Understood. Let us proceed."
That mountain was none other than Nameless Peak, which marked the border between what would become the Four Principalities—though they had yet to establish their independence as sovereign nations at the time.
Incidentally, because each of the four principalities giving the mountain a different name would have caused utter confusion on regional maps, a treaty was forged agreeing that none of them would bestow a name upon it. Thus, it remained "Nameless Peak" all the way up to the year 3901.
And it was upon this very mountain that they stumbled across the ruins of the Progenitors.
"Dig. Dig. Dig..."
Genehalt, though far from a master of the craft, worked to excavate the site using magi-craft.
"Hmm. This magi-craft spell called Dig is remarkably convenient."
With each casting of Dig, a shaft roughly two meters wide and thirty centimeters deep was carved out.
While Jin could effortlessly hollow out a cavity five meters wide and five meters deep in a single breath, two meters across and thirty centimeters deep was still vastly faster than any ordinary miner could ever hope to dig.
Over the course of half a day, they bored two shafts stretching twenty meters deep.
And then...
"Lord Niestol, there is something ahead."
Genehalt's senses caught the trace of something metallic.
Five more casts of Dig laid it bare.
"What in the world is this...? A room?"
"Lord Niestol, could this be what the old tales refer to as 'the Ruins'?"
Genehalt possessed a modest understanding of the Progenitor ruins that Jin had uncovered in the distant past.
"Ruins, you say...?"
"What are your orders, my lord?"
"Having come this far, we have no choice but to see what lies inside."
"Understood....Forming."
Using magi-craft, Genehalt forced the sealed door open.
"Indeed, magi-craft truly is extraordinary."
"Please exercise caution."
The two men stepped carefully into the depths of the ruins.
"It is faintly luminous in here."
"I believe this is what is known as a free ether illuminator."
"Fascinating."
The two searched the interior thoroughly, yet failed to turn up anything of interest. The facility was utterly hollowed out.
"What is this? Ruins or not, isn't this place completely abandoned?"
"That seems very likely, my lord."
They pressed further into the complex, but still found nothing noteworthy.
Until, at last...
"This appears to be the final chamber."
Finding the door locked, Genehalt applied magi-craft once more to unseal the entrance.
"Oh?! What on earth is that?"
"...It seems to be a golem, my lord..."
A golem lay motionless inside, but its silhouette was grotesque.
It possessed no head, and four arms extended from its torso above a pair of legs. It was an undeniably deformed creation.
"This, too, must be an artifact..."
"Can you activate it?"
"...Analyze. Analyze."
Hoping to fulfill Niestol's request, Genehalt performed a series of diagnostic analyses before looking up.
"This should suffice. If you channel your mana into it, Lord Niestol, it ought to awaken."
"Hmm... Like this?"
Niestol infused his mana as directed, but the deformed golem remained entirely inert.
"It's no use."
Genehalt tilted his head in bewilderment and resumed his examination.
Beside him, Niestol pondered the dilemma.
"Hmm... Is there truly no way to get it moving?"
He racked his mind, dredging up everything he had ever heard about golems.
"...If memory serves, I recall hearing that certain golems require a keyword to function."
Figuring it was worth a try, Niestol began reciting every keyword he could call to mind.
"Activate. Start. Exe....Wake up."
"...Who calls upon me?"
"W-Whoa!"
Without warning, the deformed golem stirred to life.
"Lord Niestol, you did it!"
Having completely overlooked the possibility of a keyword, Genehalt bowed his head in sheepish apology.
"...Forgive me, my lord. I proved useless when it mattered most."
"Think nothing of it."
Though startled when the deformed golem suddenly moved,
Niestol gradually regained his composure upon seeing that it showed no signs of turning violent.
Then,
"It was you who awakened me, was it not?"
a polite voice echoed through the chamber.
Realizing this was an advanced, highly articulate golem, Niestol recovered his calm entirely.
"Well? Are you capable of moving?"
"...I appear to have suffered some memory loss, yet my physical functions remain unimpaired."
"I see. Then tell me: what are you?"
"I am... Try."
In that fateful moment, one of the deformed golems crafted by the Progenitors pledged its allegiance to Niestol Almazov Melkana.