The Meeting of Magic and Games
The Meeting of Magic and Games
No, that would just deepen the misunderstanding...
Noel looks at Flora with that kind of gaze.
But Flora, unaware that Noel is even looking at her, is too busy nervously answering the princess's question to pay attention.
"It's a primitive magic that has since vanished—no, no, it didn't vanish so much as evolve into magic circles. If you go to the academy and study the history of magic, you'll understand, but in the old days, people believed that letters themselves held power and used stone tablets with inscriptions carved into them like scrolls..."
Flora suddenly launched into a lecture on the history of magic, but that wasn't important right now.
Lydia, however, focused on the fact that such special magical letters—like those from Letter Expedition—did, in fact, exist.
"If it's all right, could I possibly see them?!"
Princess Lydia exclaims, visibly excited.
Clara and the saintess Irina also try to act nonchalant but are looking at Flora with eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Feeling the weight of those gazes, Flora stammers out a reply.
"We-ell... I'm sorry..."
She wanted to meet their expectations, but it was impossible.
"Since rune magic is already a lost art, I'd love to show you, but I'm afraid it's not possible."
Flora says this while gauging their reactions.
It was a magic that had already faded into the annals of history, surviving only in the form of magic circles—a magic you'd only read about in textbooks. Even mimicking it was impossible.
Rune magic had walked a path that fantasy magic might one day take itself.
Since there was no way to show it even if she wanted to, Flora apologized for disappointing their hopes.
Seeing her, Lydia shook her head as if to say it was unfortunate but couldn't be helped.
"Flora-ssi, this isn't something you need to apologize for."
The princess spoke kindly, without making any unreasonable demands like "then make it." Flora looked at her with moved eyes.
Not wanting to let the princess down entirely, Flora thought for a moment, then recalled something and spoke.
"Actually... there's a mage at the Magic Tower working on restoring magic that's been lost to time. Perhaps, riding on the popularity of the comic, they might even succeed in restoring rune magic..."
The moment they heard that, the princess and the viscount's daughter exchanged glances.
Without saying a word, their hearts became one.
"Let's sponsor it."
"I agree."
You can't resist the fandom grind.
The two of them decided to send generous sponsorship funds to the Magic Tower's restoration project for lost magic.
Watching them, Noel felt a complicated mix of emotions.
It's good that they've grown close.
When they first met at the theater while trying to watch Bridge of Imperium Town, things weren't exactly friendly between them.
Those two, who used to engage in subtle power struggles, had now become close enough to communicate with just a look. That was clearly a good thing.
It was a good thing, but...
'Why does it feel like these two people, who shouldn't be meeting, have gotten close instead?'
Under normal circumstances, the person who would deliver the finishing blow to Clara and turn her into 'Death' was the princess.
The fact that they had grown close meant Clara's chances of falling into villainy had greatly decreased—so Noel should be happy about it. Yet, for some reason, she felt like they had crossed a river from which there was no return.
'At this point, is my only sanctuary the saintess?'
Praying that the saintess, at least, would remain unchanged and stay exactly as she was, Noel quietly continued her meal.
After all, if people who read Letter Expedition were so captivated that they were willing to spend their own money on premium fandom activities, who was she to stop them?
Especially since Noel herself was, in a way, deep in the middle of her own fandom grind. She just let it slide with a "whatever, I guess."
As a result, this ended up feeding an entire minor school of magic.
There's a saying that niche subculture games featuring heroes from various myths, legends, and actual history keep scholars of obscure mythology and history alive—fields that otherwise receive little public attention.
It's even been proven by fact: whenever a new hero is added to such a game, searches for that hero spike, and related books sell well.
The same phenomenon was now happening on Terra, not Earth.
A kind of Noel Effect.
Once you taste this, you can't escape. For struggling schools of magic, Noel would feel like a literal goddess.
And this also meant that the School of Illusion Magic would face increased competition.
Of course, even without that,
"Th-this... is the same as the games we've always played...?"
"Oh my god, this is truly... literally fantastic!"
"To think I'd ever experience something like this. My God... Could we incorporate this into religious activities...?"
Sooner or later, the Magic Tower would have realized the value of Noel Grace anyway.
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Lydia.
Clara.
Irina.
The three who tried the test play felt as if they had just dreamed a dream.
It was nothing short of a fantastic experience.
Although the research and development were still ongoing and they had only seen the illusions without any sound effects yet—even without full sensory satisfaction, just the visual alone made a world of difference.
The games they had been enjoying in their daily lives.
They were so fun that they often found themselves thinking about games even during ordinary moments—to the point where they felt their self-control being tested.
'What have I been playing all this time...?'
'Now that I know about this, I can never go back...'
'Auto-moving game pieces, servants that pop out when you play a card... How can this be so wondrous...?'
Humans are such fickle creatures.
Now they felt that unless a game was upgraded with magic, they couldn't get excited about it anymore.
They say that once you learn comfort, you can never go back to the time you didn't know it. The same went for games.
Now that they had discovered something more astonishing and thrilling, the thought of going back to playing passively without such effects felt so boring it made them want to die.
As a result,
"Um, excuse me, is there anything else I can help test...?"
Irina said.
"Ahem, this is a matter of imperial prestige. We can't present something insufficient to foreign dignitaries. As an imperial noble, I will cooperate actively."
Clara added.
"Miss Noel, are you planning to make any more of these? It's not that I want one for myself, but I think it would make a good gift for Father."
Lydia also chimed in—without exception, they all wanted to play more games under the guise of "testing."
Seeing their reactions, Noel smirked inwardly.
'If I add sound effects to this... If I'm being greedy, I'd love to make it so you can even feel the touch, like in the real Play King...'
Theoretically, it was possible to cast illusions at the level Noel wanted.
But if you cast illusions that affect not just sight or hearing but actually touch the senses, problems could arise.
Even on Earth, excessive light effects in arcade games could hurt the eyes—or worse, cause seizures.
So how much more dangerous would it be to cast illusions with magic?
Even if it's possible, it shouldn't be done until you develop a level of illusion that is truly safe—one that doesn't harm the human body or brain while still providing a realistic experience.
Especially considering that what they were making was a gift for foreign dignitaries. Even if there were regrets, safety had to come first.
'If something goes seriously wrong with the health of high-ranking officials because of a game...'
That would be terrifying.
International problems aside, the budding culture of gaming—which they had just planted the seeds of—would surely be crushed.
Noel didn't want that.
Not only did she hate seeing games she loved ruined, but games were also a stepping stone for Noel's fandom activities.
Games that were supposed to let her rake in money like a rake couldn't afford to be destroyed by such an absurd reason.
So, just as people say to approach safety conservatively, Noel was making adjustments to ensure no health issues arose—even if it meant sacrificing fun or dopamine.
In fact, that was the core of this game machine's development.
The rough outline was already set.
Now it was just a matter of adjusting how much and at what level to control things to maximize dopamine while not compromising safety.
"I'll concede at least to having sound."
"Hmm... even auditory hallucinations could be risky..."
"But sound effects are really important."
"True. In that case, we could force a cut every hour and mandate a 30-minute break..."
Noel and Flora brainstormed various ways to implement safety measures.
And one more thing.
"We also need measures to prevent technology theft."
There would surely be places that recognized the potential of the games and attempted to copy them.
Technically, it wasn't that complex—if other nations' Magic Towers set their minds to it, they could reproduce it as much as they wanted. But they had to block what they could.
After all, in games and culture, while technology matters, it's ultimately a battle of 'content' anyway.
Even if someone copied the game machine, they could never beat Noel in the content arena. But someone goes through the trouble of developing something with safety measures, and then it gets snatched up and swallowed whole?
That just feels bad.
It was only natural to put effort into protecting their know-how.
The designs for how to build the prototype were already complete.
From the day of the celebration party until the day they would present and gift the game machines on the international diplomatic stage, they worked hard on safety verification and preventing know-how theft.
In that process, those who helped with testing weren't just Noel and the children—they also included the mansion's staff.
"A new upgraded game? Hah, how fun can it be?"
"At best, maybe 11 to 12 times fun. Joy is maybe 14 to 15 times."
"Kyaaaah~! This is freakin' awesome!"
They thought they were already getting plenty of dopamine, but they discovered there was another level beyond that, and everyone went wild.
And since the game machines would be given away as gifts once development was complete, everyone kept glancing at Noel.
They didn't want to send away these fun game machines.
Seeing their reactions, Noel smirked and said,
"Well, I guess it's fine to leave one in the break room as a souvenir."
She showed consideration in the name of welfare, and upon hearing that news, the employees' loyalty shot through the roof that day.