Make It Heavier, Please (1)

The next morning.

"Everything go all right?"

Walter asked as he stepped into the workshop, shrugging off his coat.

All right? It was a complete circus.

Looking down at the necklace resting on the workbench, I had no idea where to even begin.

"Lady Aurélie of House Sermont left her magic tool with us for a mana recharge. And while I was charging it, I, ah... made a few adjustments to the spell script."

"What? You modified the script without permission? I told you to take the job and nothing more—did I say you could go poking around in it?"

Walter exploded on the spot.

"She said she needed it the very next day, so I was in a hurry. The recharge itself was easy, but while I was working, I got a look at the tool's internals, and there were parts I really wanted to fix—"

"You've lost your damn mind, you know that? So what did the lady say?"

"She was very angry. I offered to restore it to its original state, but she told me not to touch it."

"Ugh, you're toast. Reworking a priceless magic tool without authorization... you're on your own with that one."

"Well, then she came back in the afternoon and left another item with me."

I held up Aurélie's necklace for Walter to see.

"What—?"

Walter froze mid-hang, coat half on his shoulders.

"Apparently she liked it once she actually tried it. Says she won her sparring match with it, and that she'll be dropping by regularly from now on."

"Kid, you... you should've led with *that* part!"

Walter let out a strangled laugh and dropped into his chair.

"Well, it worked out in the end, so I suppose no harm done. But from now on, you get permission first. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Oh—and you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠should take a look at this too."

I set the necklace down and pulled a sheet of paper from the workbench, one covered in the bracelet's spell script.

"Hmm?!"

Walter started skimming the dense script with a bored expression—then his eyes went round as saucers, and he glared at the code formula beside it.

"This is a spell script? How is it this short?"

"Amazing, right? It's short, but it works perfectly. The lady was satisfied too. I played it safe and made a new spell plate just for it."

"A new spell plate? What material?"

"...Iron."

"What? You put an iron plate in a magic tool? You're supposed to use at least silver for a spell plate, and you're telling me you made one out of a scrap of *iron*?"

Walter's face cycled through a whole spectrum of complicated expressions.

I know. Believe me, I know.

I had learned it firsthand yesterday, coughing up blood through Aurélie's... enthusiastic feedback.

"You'd never have guessed it was an iron plate. It's so smooth and shiny, it looked like regular steel to me."

"Now you're just talking nonsense. Still—it ran perfectly fine on an iron plate, you say?"

"Yes. And the performance actually improved. That part puzzles me too. I've been meaning to look into it."

"We'll have to find someone who knows the principle behind it. Anyway, what did the lady want done to the necklace?"

"It's a training piece—a weight necklace that makes the body heavier. Apparently it got too light for her. She asked me to make it as heavy as I possibly can."

"Then you handle it. I'll supervise."

"Really? I was supposed to be called to the warehouse today, though—"

"A magic tool workshop's job is magic tool maintenance, not hauling crates around the warehouse. I'll square it with them, so don't worry about it."

"Ohh, understood!"

Oh? No more grunt work for me?

Thank you, Lady Aurélie. At this point, shouldn't I be scattering flower petals in front of the door every time you visit?

That same day, at noon.

Walter had barely clocked in before inventing some errand and vanishing from his post again.

Leaving your seat several days in a row—isn't that just straight-up goldbricking, Workshop Chief?

Anyway, I'd eaten a hearty lunch, so it was time to turn my attention to Aurélie's necklace.

I spread a white cloth over the workbench and laid out the necklace and my tools on top of it.

The first order of business was understanding exactly what I was dealing with.

I hung the necklace around my neck and stood up from my chair.

"Uuuugh..."

Whoa. That's way more intense than I expected.

Simply walking across the room felt like climbing a steep mountain trail. By the time I'd lumbered to the workshop door and back on my newly ten-thousand-pound body, my legs were wobbling faintly.

And Aurélie jogs in this? Every morning? And even that leaves her unsatisfied, so she wants it heavier?

That's not a person. That's a straight-up monster.

My fear of Aurélie was renewed.

Enough field testing. Time for the real work.

I popped open the necklace's cover, and the spell plate sitting right beside the mana stone caught my eye.

The plate was so absurdly small that I had to pull out the microscope gathering dust in the corner of the workshop just to make out the lettering.

What is this? How did anyone even carve this?

Does this world have a semiconductor fab somewhere or what?

Peering hard through the microscope, I copied the script down onto paper.

Wow. Off to a genuinely moving start.

Whoever wrote this script was clearly one of the most devoted children in existence.

Though the problem was that it was tedious and needlessly pedantic.

The code formula could wait—first I had to worry about the hardware.

Just as I'd added strength to the bracelet, this time I needed to add weight. And going by what Aurélie said, the goal was for the necklace to deliver the heaviest load it could physically tolerate, right?

Wait—wouldn't it be even better if the weight could be adjusted on the fly, right there on the wearer's neck?

Like adding or removing plates from a barbell at the gym to dial in the load.

The moment the idea struck, I sketched the necklace on paper and drew a larger ring around it, enclosing it like a sleeve.

A dial mechanism, wasn't that called?

Turn the outer ring on this structure, and the applied weight adjusts accordingly.

Shall we divide it into five settings, one through five?

I was absorbed in redrawing the sketch, revising it again and again, when footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Probably a student headed to class, I thought, bending back over my drawing—only for the footsteps to draw closer toward the workshop.

Huh? A customer?

Wondering if it was a new client, I looked up—and the person who appeared was—

"What are you doing, Noel?"

Aurélie.

"Oh—good ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠afternoon, Lady Sermont."

I'd risen from my chair out of pure delight at seeing her, then froze mid-motion when my eyes flicked to the necklace on the workbench.

I was dawdling and only just got started. I had no idea she'd be here already.

"We agreed you'd call me Aurélie. Not Lady Sermont."

"Ah, my apologies. Aurélie. Did you come for the necklace? I'm afraid I still need a bit more time—"

"I didn't come for the necklace. I told you yesterday I'd be visiting often, didn't I? May I sit?"

"Of course, by all means. I only asked in case you had business."

"I just came because I wanted to talk with you, Noel."

As our eyes met, Aurélie ducked her head slightly.

Wait. You came just because you wanted to talk?

And your cheeks look a little flushed, too. Am I... allowed to get my hopes up here?

"W-well then... please, have a seat."

Fighting to keep the corners of my mouth from curling upward, I pulled out the chair beside the reception counter.

"You actually picked a perfect moment. There's something I wanted to show you."

"Ooh, what is it?"

Once Aurélie had taken her seat, I spread open the sheet of paper I'd just been drawing on.

"Here. You turn this outer ring to adjust how much weight gets applied."

"Don't you have to tinker with the spell script every time you want to change the weight?"

"You would, normally. But I came up with an idea for adjusting it on the spot."

Aurélie leaned in to study the paper, then pointed at the last notch on the dial.

"So turning it all the way here makes it the heaviest?"

"That's right. Though you don't necessarily have to push it to the limit. Just adjust it to whatever you need."

"I know. I'm just looking forward to finding out how heavy it'll get."

I can already see how this ends.

Her eyes were practically sparkling already—it was obvious she'd test it at maximum output the second I handed it over.

One thing was certain: I could never work out alongside this woman.

If I so much as jogged with her, I'd be wrung out like laundry fresh from the spin cycle.

"I'll probably need to fabricate some new parts, so the cost may go up a little. I'll look into it and let you know."

"Of course. Don't hesitate on my account—if you need better materials, I'll talk to the butler in advance."

Aurélie set the paper down on the workbench and looked me square in the eye.

"You're not busy, are you? Am I in the way?"

"Not at all. The chief said the necklace is all I need to focus on. I was just mulling over how to approach it when you showed up—your timing couldn't be better."

"What a relief. Then may I stay a little longer?"

Aurélie scooted her chair closer.

"You know, I got a long lecture from the sword master after our match yesterday. Father apparently heard about it too, every last detail."

"Huh? You got scolded even though you won? Even though you sent your opponent flying into a wall?"

"Right?! He went on and on about how I didn't fight the way I was taught. I won, so shouldn't that count for something? Don't you think so?"

Aurélie puffed her cheeks in an exaggerated pout, and the sight was so endearing that a laugh burst out of me before I could stop it.

"Hey, that's not a laughing matter. Father is one thing, but if Mother gets on my case about it, it won't end in an hour, I'm telling you."

"I'm sorry. It must feel unfair, winning and all. Your sword master is being too harsh."

"Right? You agree with me, don't you, Noel?"

"Absolutely. As it happens, I got thoroughly chewed out by the chief this morning over your bracelet, myself."

I commiserated enthusiastically, embellishing the morning's events a little for effect, and Aurélie burst out laughing.

We talked for a good while, until the chatter of students in the corridor reached us and Aurélie checked the clock on the wall.

"Tch. Already time for class. Swordsmanship lessons are so boring, though."

Aurélie rose reluctantly from her chair.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Hmm, I'll probably be working on your necklace all day, like today. That's the piece that's keeping me busy, after all."

"Then I'll come back tomorrow too."

"Oh? You're coming again tomorrow?"

"Why? You don't want me to?"

"N-no, that's not it, it's just—"

When Aurélie puffed her cheeks out to their fullest, my will to resist simply disintegrated.

There was no force on earth that could make me tell her *don't come* after seeing that face.

"Hehe. Then see you tomorrow."

Aurélie's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠expression melted into a bright smile as she headed for the door.

Even after I'd seen her out through it, I stood there for a long while, staring at the spot where her back had disappeared.

"Noel, take this."

I was back from seeing Aurélie off, gathering the paper from my workbench, when Walter materialized out of nowhere and thrust a box of components at me.

"Where'd you run off to this time?"

I took the box quickly and set it on the workbench.

"None of your business, punk. Speaking of which—I saw one of the knight-course young ladies leaving the workshop earlier. What was that about?"

"Nothing much. It was the Sermont heir I mentioned this morning—she just dropped by. I suppose she was curious how the necklace commission was coming along."

"Is that so? A rare visitor—make sure you treat her right."

"Of course. With a beauty like that coming all this way, you think I'd cut corners?"

"Hm? You've got rather... distinctive taste, don't you, Noel?"

Walter gave a vaguely baffled laugh.

Distinctive?

Admiring a woman like Aurélie isn't that the global standard?

"What's that supposed to mean? Lady Sermont is a beauty by anyone's standards, no?"

"Her face is fair enough, I'll grant. It's the body that's... well. Her chest and hips are just too much, you know? And her limbs—if they were a touch more slender, she'd be far easier on the eyes."

Hold on. What is this man even saying right now?

He just rattled off a list of her best qualities and called them flaws?

"Isn't all of that a good thing?"

"A good thing? Did you or did you not hear a word I just said?"

Walter tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.

No, why does the workshop chief have weird taste?

I'm pretty sure I'm the one who should be appalled here.

"Honestly. It's common sense that men prefer a woman petite and delicate, with a modest chest. Ask anyone you like. Show them Lady Sermont, and nine out of ten will shake their heads."

Ah. So she's *too much* for you?

The people of this world are kicking away a burden I would gladly shoulder?

Are all the men here eunuchs or something?

I'd accepted the existence of magic, of elves and dwarves, even of dragons, without much difficulty—but the idea that Aurélie's figure was somehow lacking was beyond all comprehension.

The whole world turned out to be a village of one-eyed men.

For a moment, I remembered yesterday—how Aurélie had smiled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shyly when I called her beautiful.

Wait. Did she think I was just being polite? I meant every word.

"Enough about your type. Let's look at the commission. How far did you get?"

"Whew. Like this—I want the outer ring to adjust the weight. I explained the same thing to the lady. The spell script I think I can manage, but I have no idea how to design the mechanical structure."

I'd drawn the sketch with plenty of enthusiasm, but when it came to what parts to actually use, I didn't have the first clue.

"Hmm... that *is* a tricky one, I'll admit. You should go see Brokk. I'd been meaning to introduce you anyway—good timing."

"Brokk?"

"The dwarf master craftsman here at the academy. He handles everything from training armaments to the equipment the professors use, all by himself. There's nobody better in materials engineering, so soak up whatever he'll teach you."

Walter handed the paper back and stood up.

"Grab the necklace and the sketch. Since we're on the subject, we'll go right now."

"R-right now?"

"Yes, right now, punk. Show up near quitting time and he'll curse you into next week."

I gathered up the necklace and the paper and followed him out, where Walter hung an OUT TO LUNCH sign on the workshop door.