Chapter 169
Chapter 169
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 169
Chapter Title: The Treacherous Subject's Usefulness
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Completely oblivious to the threats gathering around him, Beonald was solely focused on establishing his residence next to the Valderian territory.
Although there was scrutiny and envy from neighboring nobles toward the conspicuously prospering territory, he was often seen mingling with the heir, Kedron Valderian, leading most to think he was essentially a vassal of the Valderian family, making it difficult for them to act.
"Ah, and it seems rumors about the Magic Armor are slowly spreading. That... it's inevitable since we've been hunting too many dangerous species in the western forest."
"We didn't specifically try to silence the soldiers' mouths, after all. It was intentional, so don't worry about it. It would be troublesome if it reached the central regions, but if it spreads among the neighboring nobles, it serves as a warning instead."
"Ah, indeed..."
Kindly responding to Heidi's report, Beonald continued the maintenance of the Magic Armor.
The existence of this new weapon, which began as a toy for the Unified Empire's Emperor, was something that couldn't be hidden no matter how hard one tried, and it was spreading along with tales of them hunting dangerous monster species as routinely as eating meals.
It had now been about a year and a half since he started cultivating this place. It had been very smooth, and today too, the territory was peacefully prospering.
'In the end, military power is what brings peace.'
"Also, the procession of refugees has increased abnormally. Since the current food situation is bad, all the neighboring nobles are sending them to us. We anticipated this, but it's now so severe that... they say it's reaching uncontrollable levels."
"The harvest season is coming soon, so there shouldn't be much to worry about, but just in case, we should first increase monster hunting. And... by any chance, has that been found?"
"That... you mean things like monster excrement?"
"Yes. There's a possibility that excrement has accumulated around there and, over a long time, turned into saltpeter. Opening up to the coast will take more time, so we need to find that place first. That way, we can farm on all the land next year without using fallow fields."
To maintain, support, and even increase the population, agricultural production had to be increased, a subject of constant research in any era.
Beonald, 500 years ago, also supported research into this through alchemists, as increasing the national treasury meant he could embezzle larger amounts. He had completed the method for producing 'saltpeter' and using it to create 'synthetic fertilizer.'
'But right now, it's difficult to build the infrastructure and facilities to supply those materials... I have no choice but to find and use the natural kind.'
So, for now, he was trying to find naturally formed 'saltpeter.'
And there was 'one' more thing that could be made with that saltpeter, but since it wasn't something Beonald needed to consider now, he decided to focus on fertilizer first.
"We did find it. But whether what's there is what you desire, Lord Beonald, I think you need to go see for yourself."
"...I see. That can't be helped. Sigh~"
One problem remained: there were still far too many affairs that Beonald had to oversee personally.
Magic Armor production, various administrative tasks, agriculture, economic negotiations, dealing with nobles, dealing with guilds within the territory, judicial processing, etc., etc... It was a workload that only someone like Beonald, with his career experience and a body tempered by mana breathing techniques, could handle; anyone else would collapse within a single day.
'That's why I miss the magical tools of the old days even more. Haaa~'
"Ah, and soon, Archbishop Harun, who was appointed as a Saint, is returning and will hold a commemorative service. Count Valderian specifically ordered that you must attend this."
"I'm already short on time as it is, this is too much. Sigh~ To have to waste time...!"
Fundamentally holding negative opinions about religion, attending a service at a temple was something Beonald wanted to avoid as much as possible.
In fact, that tendency remained the same even now, after having been to hell and received a special mission from the Goddess; it still hadn't changed, so except for a very few times as a child, he never attended services at the temple.
"But it seems you really must go this time. He received the title of Saint, after all..."
"Right. I have no choice but to go."
Since he was the one who pushed for him to become a Saint, Beonald thought he had no choice either. He had too much to do, but he decided to participate in the service this time.
After that, until the service, Beonald's forces spent their time very peacefully cultivating the land and smoothly building the third Magic Armor.
The third new model was for none other than Besia, built to specifications resembling heavy equipment for construction.
Of course, Beonald hadn't initially intended to make it that way; he was going to make it like a regular knight's armor, but Besia refused and presented unique requirements.
'That... rather than something worn on a person's body, I'd like something you can ride. Even if it's a bit slow, it should be strong enough to easily erect pillars and such, and be able to handle large shovels and pickaxes. That would be perfect.'
"...Now even a trace of the princess has vanished. So, it needs to be enlarged... This will require a lot of materials, but..."
Seeing the skill she put into the construction work and the mansion blueprints, it was impossible not to do it for her.
Frankly speaking, she was far superior in that field, and she was an irreplaceable talent.
'Besides, when she asks with those eyes... it stirs my competitive spirit.'
'Ah, or was my request too unreasonable after all? You told me to speak frankly, so I did...'
'How could I possibly say no to that?'
Whether it was a noble's nature or a man's instinct, Beonald accepted this request to uphold his pride.
Living and dying for appearances was the way of a noble, so he accepted and began production.
Since it was much larger than armor worn by a human, there was plenty of free space, but that meant greater stress on the joints supporting the weight, so more enchantments had to be added to widen the range of motion. The biggest problem was making it mobile.
'In other words, since it's not worn on a human body... I have to create something like a human organ system. Then naturally, it needs a skeleton... and something like human muscles. To replace muscles...'
In this way, he first built the Magic Armor's frame while continuously pondering how to create the muscle parts to move the machine.
Naturally, the conditions were too many: it had to contract and relax on command, be durable, and have elasticity, making his head hurt.
It was maddening that he had to create something that seemed like it would require a divine miracle, but he didn't give up.
'...First, let's consider the tendons and muscles of similarly sized lifeforms like drakes or ogres. The skeleton to maintain that huge body can be made of metal no matter the cost... but muscles... It doesn't seem like leather or tendons can replace them, or do I have to make them artificially? Surely there must be books on homunculus creation in my study...'
Although it was far from Beonald's specialty, there were certainly alchemists among them who created artificial lifeforms and chimeras, and he remembered them showing off materials and begging for investment while buttering him up to get research funds.
Frankly, it only seemed plausible; the return didn't match the investment, but since he was embezzling from the national treasury, it wasn't that regrettable. Beonald thought he would go to the Egg's Nest later and pick up some books.
And about three weeks later, around the time the chilly winter wind began to blow, Saint Archbishop Harun returned to the Valderian territory, greeted by the cheers of countless people in a grand return.
Beonald really didn't want to, but since even Count Valderian had returned from the capital, he had no choice but to greet him at the Grand Temple here in the Valderian territory.
When the carriage, adorned with a lavish white theme, golden decorations, and fluttering flags of the Church, stopped, Archbishop Harun emerged from inside, and Count Valderian stepped forward first to greet him.
"Congratulations, Archbishop. Or should I call you Saint now?"
"Hohoho, my position remains the same, so please address me as before. Hohoho. Thank you for the warm welcome."
"Now, please come inside."
While exchanging greetings with Count Valderian, Archbishop Harun subtly glanced at Beonald standing behind, but Beonald gave no reaction.
Thus, Archbishop Harun chatted with Count Valderian as they entered the temple side by side and immediately began preparations for the service.
Since he was officially appointed as a Saint by the Church, the grand service was attended not only by all the Count's household and the territory's people, but also by people from neighboring territories, filling the temple interior to overflowing and spilling outside, creating a bustling crowd.
'Just the service itself is annoying... and there's a damn lot of people too.'
For Beonald, who already disliked services, this situation, with so many people it was about to burst, was even more stifling and maddening.
Of course, he was seated in the noble section along with the Valderian Count's household, so it wasn't a particular problem, but his dislike for the service itself was unavoidable.
"Hoho, I am truly at a loss for how to handle such hospitality from everyone. All of this was accomplished thanks to the Goddess's grace, yet to be welcomed like this..."
'...I feel like I'm going to lose consciousness.'
Already in a state where his sleep time was reduced due to the recent heavy workload, the incomprehensible words of God were just like a perfect lullaby for falling asleep.
However, since it was, after all, the service of a 'Saint,' he couldn't possibly doze off. So, Beonald tried to maintain the most reverent mind possible, pretending to pray with his hands clasped, holding a stiff posture.
'...Frankly, I don't think I can endure otherwise, so I might as well pray. Goddess, could you please make this service end even a moment sooner? I have a lot to do...'
This sentiment was sincere, so Beonald poured his focus into the prayer.
[...hear ...you...]
'...Hm?'
[Be...onald... hear... you.]
"Huh!"
Then, suddenly, a strange thing happened. A voice began to be heard in his head.
Startled, Beonald opened his eyes and looked around, but there were only the Valderian family members, all engrossed in the Archbishop's service, listening to his story with bated breath.
The surprised Beonald first calmed his mind and tried to interpret how the voice he just heard had occurred.
'Just now... it was heard because I prayed, right? Whew... whew... Ahh... Is it that damn Goddess's voice?'
Taking a deep breath, he tried praying again with a reverent heart.
Being a scholar, he couldn't resist his curiosity and wanted to interpret this strange phenomenon.
[Who are you calling a damn Goddess? Beonald. Anyway, I'm glad you can hear me.]
'...Ah, that... you were watching?'
[I am always watching.]
'...Thinking about it, I suppose you would be. Anyway... that... why are you contacting me now like this...'
[I'm not contacting you suddenly now; originally, you... just never prayed, so there was no way to contact you. I wanted to get in touch, you know. You, who experienced a divine miracle, how can you not have even a shred of reverence or offer a single prayer to God?]
'Well... wouldn't it be stranger for a human who's been to hell to develop faith?'
Originally being close to atheistic and even having thoughts of making the Goddess statue lewd, Beonald's fundamental nature hadn't changed. It felt more like he was revived through a judicial deal rather than by divine grace, so asking why he should develop faith was odd.
'Also, I thought that if you are an omnipotent Goddess, you would know about me well, so I just worked hard with the skills I have.'
[Do you want to be punished in the hell pit again?]
'No. That's a bit... Please, just tell me what you wish.'
With his experience in hell still vivid, Beonald immediately yielded, wanting to hear the Goddess's command.
Her sigh seemed imminent at his utterly mercenary and seemingly unrepentant, steadfast appearance, but she held it back and began explaining the reason for contacting him in earnest.