Magical Beasts (2)
The Robel family's Green Fields territory was the most fertile land in the entire Mardin Principality — vast stretches of flat ground ideally suited for farming.
True to its name, emerald plains rolled out as far as the eye could see.
A long river fed by meltwater from the Valces Mountain Range cut across those plains and ran all the way to the capital.
The violent trade winds blowing in off the sea made agriculture no easy task, but the sheer breadth and richness of the soil made it the heartland of the principality's farming — ground they could never simply abandon.
The trade-off, however, was that their knightly tradition had withered year by year.
What had once been an honorable rivalry of arms with the Bladewyns had, in recent times, become little more than a contest of wealth and influence.
And so situations like this one arose from time to time — moments when the Robels had no choice but to lean on Bladewyn steel.
"Kirrk… krrrk…"
A monkey-like magical beast, bleeding freely, thrashed where it hung impaled against a tree.
Fweeeee—!
CRACK!!
A second arrow followed hard on the first, punching clean through the creature's skull and killing it instantly.
"Who in the world…?"
Gast Robel, a knight of a Robel side branch, could scarcely believe his eyes. He turned — and there was Burgess Bladewyn, a massive bow in hand, trudging toward him with that unhurried gait of his.
A Bladewyn? No — how does a bow hit with that kind of force…?
Bows were weapons for common soldiers. They couldn't pierce a knight's plate, and as arcing weapons they were notoriously hard to aim.
Even seeing it with his own eyes, Gast struggled to accept it. Looking closer, he realized the arrows themselves were different from any he knew — thick as wooden stakes.
Is that even a bow…?
Up close, the shape of the weapon in Burgess's hands was stranger still. It looked nothing like any bow Gast had ever seen.
"You…"
"Kirik! Kiririk!"
"Kiiiii!"
"Kiirik!"
The remaining monkey beasts seemed to grasp that their leader was dead. Screeching, they turned and fled.
"Tsk. What a pain."
Burgess planted his foot in the square stirrup fixed to the bow's tip and hauled the string back with his full monstrous strength.
Click.
It was an ingenious mechanism. Once the string locked into the catch, he no longer needed to hold the draw until the moment of release.
THWOOM—!
Even the sound was nothing like a normal bow. The bolt tore through the air with a crack like bursting wind and flew in a dead-straight line.
Thud!
Burgess's shot punched through two of the fleeing beasts and buried itself in a tree beyond.
"Tsk. Could've taken three."
The regret on his face left Gast staring, dumbfounded.
"Where did you get that?"
"…Little brother."
"…Huh?"
And with that, Burgess was gone.
"…Lit…tle brother?"
"It's finally finished!"
My own magitech research laboratory. RMEL — Robon Mana Engineering Laboratory — was complete.
I'd known the Bladewyns excelled at metalworking and mining, but I hadn't realized their construction skills were this impressive too.
A three-story building, knocked out this fast.
Well — not that fast, if I was being honest. I'd clearly underestimated the craftsmen of this era.
I'd braced myself for half a year. It took less than two months.
"Not bad."
The bald mage murmured as he studied the building's exterior.
His gleaming scalp caught the sunlight with particular brilliance. I'd told him to stop wearing that hooded robe all the time — the thing made him look like some brooding villain — and to my surprise, he'd actually listened.
I'd expected him to refuse. Credit where it was due: the man wore his baldness with real dignity.
"Looking forward to working with you, Magic Advisor Andersen."
"And I with you, Director Robon."
It stood on high ground not far from the Bladewyn estate.
A gentle hill, scattered rocks, and a belt of forest screened the interior for privacy. A river ran a ten-minute walk away, and both the village and the manor were only half an hour on foot.
Exactly the kind of spot I'd wanted.
A proper laboratory ought to sit a little apart. That's half the charm.
I needed room to expand the buildings later, and I needed some distance from outside interference.
It was the same principle as not living too close to your in-laws after getting married — otherwise the parents drop by constantly.
If I stuck myself right next to the family, I'd never hear the end of it. So I'd chosen somewhere just far enough away.
"Is this… obsidian?"
"It is. Cost a bit, heh."
The black stone's glossy sheen wasn't just about hardness — it lent the whole design a touch of real luxury.
Samuel had fought the expense tooth and nail. I'd only gotten it approved by throwing in some of my own funds on top.
Obsidian ran several times the price of ordinary limestone or metals like iron and lead, but by cladding just the surface I'd managed to keep the cost from completely exploding.
Above the entrance, the Bladewyn family crest was set in large and proud.
Say what you would about them — the Bladewyns had damn fine heraldry.
"Director Robon."
"Yes?"
"……What exactly are we supposed to do here?"
Andersen surveyed the empty interior, then fixed me with a narrow look.
He wasn't actually suspecting me of being some kind of con artist… was he?
"A startup's half the fun is filling it as you go. Hahaha."
"…A startup?"
"A newly begun… venture. Something like that."
"Very well. Then tell me what I am meant to do."
"First… this."
I pulled a pump-action crossbow from a crate. Behold — the Robon-003! My third creation.
For reference, the Robon-002 was the compound crossbow I'd given to Brother Burgess.
"And what is this?"
"Watch closely. You take this pump slider in the middle and pull it back…"
Clack!
"…and just like that, it's cocked and loaded!"
Rustle.
As if on cue, a rabbit appeared in the distance, right at the edge of my vision.
"Then you line up the sights and pull the trigger…"
Thwip!
The string slipped the catch and the bolt flew. I immediately yanked the slider back again.
Clack!
The rabbit bolted the instant the first bolt buried itself at its feet. I tracked it, aimed, and fired again.
Thwip! Thunk!
The second bolt struck just ahead of the terrified animal, and it vanished into the undergrowth in a blind panic.
"Huh?"
Even I was a little startled. I'd meant to put the bolts at its feet and then in front of it — but I hadn't expected to land both shots that cleanly in the span of a heartbeat.
My reaction speed and body sense had sharpened in an instant.
My stamina may be garbage, but I guess Bladewyn blood still counts for something.
I was still admiring my own marksmanship when—
"…How in the world did you do that?"
Andersen was staring at the Robon-003 with his mouth hanging open.
"Ah — I am a pretty good shot, aren't I? Haha."
"That is not what I mean. How did you fire and then fire again so immediately? Are the bolts stored inside it?"
Oh. That was what had impressed him? And here I'd thought he was blown away by my elite shooting skills.
"It uses a pump-action mechanism… There's a fixed magazine built into the slider. When you pull it back…"
I explained it as simply as I could.
"Hmm… So by means of this 'slider,' you draw the string and the next bolt loads itself automatically. Is that the idea?"
"Exactly. That's the principle, put simply."
"Heavens. You… you truly are a genius. How does a mind even conceive of such a thing?"
Andersen's eyes had gone damp.
"This is a revolution! I may be a mage, but the man who devised this technology is the most creative soul I have ever met!"
He handled the Robon-003 as carefully as a sacred relic, gasping in open awe.
"Come on, it's not that—
"No! I knew it from the moment you built the Robon-001. To think the Bladewyns would produce someone like you! Coming here was truly the right decision!"
I was getting flustered. Even my own family hadn't gone this over-the-top — what was wrong with this mage?
Didn't mages usually dismiss anything that wasn't magic? There wasn't a scrap of magic in this thing.
"The power's still lacking. As it stands, the reload speed is excellent, but it won't punch through a knight's plate."
"You mean to make weapons that let commoners kill knights?"
"I was told that to pierce a magical beast's skull, you need enough force to go clean through steel armor without much trouble."
"That is correct. At its current power, it wouldn't stand a chance."
I'd already finished the power trials with the Robon-002. Without Aura you couldn't even draw the string — but if you could draw it, the thing had enough force to drive a bolt straight through a magical beast's skull.
The Robon-003, though, was meant for ordinary soldiers, not knights. If I could just raise its power, it would be invaluable against monster packs.
"I've been studying mana circuits, but there are too many parts I don't understand. Would you help me, Andersen?"
"Gladly. I will teach you everything I know. In return, Director — show me more of that extraordinary creativity."
"Of course."
I clasped Andersen's hand. Heat burned in his eyes — uncomfortably intense.
Surely he wasn't still thinking I could cure his baldness…?
I can't. That's not even my field. So please — don't get your hopes up.
Father returned from the capital. The next day, Brother Burgess came back from his mission as well.
For the first time in a while, the direct family and the household retainers gathered in the lord's hall.
"Burgess. Report on your mission."
"Yes, Father. While tracking the magical beast that led the crocs, we found another pack of monkey beasts. Their leader was a magical beast as well. I dealt with it."
"……"
"……"
Father's frigid gaze settled on Brother Burgess. Burgess met it with perfect calm, as if wondering what the problem was.
"I will deliver the report in Lord Burgess's place, my lord."
The veteran knight who had served as commander of the subjugation force stepped forward from the rear.
"…Very well."
Father knew full well that Burgess had no gift for words, and let it pass.
"Of the one thousand men in the subjugation force, eighty-four are dead, thirty-nine seriously wounded, and two hundred eleven lightly wounded. The losses are severe. Of the three hundred Bladewyn soldiers, twelve are dead, three seriously wounded, and thirty-four lightly wounded."
"Why so many dead?"
"This particular pack of monkey beasts moved with real intelligence. A knight named Gast led the Robel contingent, but the creatures' abilities far exceeded what anyone expected."
"The monkey magical beast's strength was something else, especially. One clean hit and you were done."
Brother Burgess added dryly.
Listening from the side, I felt the weight of it settle over me. This wasn't even a war — just hunting a few beasts — and still this many people had died.
It was a sharp reminder that I'd been taking this world far too lightly.
"I hear you killed the magical beast with a weapon Robon gave you."
"Yes."
"Had it not been for Lord Burgess, the casualties would have at least doubled."
Father's gaze shifted to me.
Suddenly every eye in the hall was on me.
"Robon. I award you one hundred gold separately."
"Thank you, Father."
"Anything else to report?"
Samuel raised a hand.
"The miners at the iron ore mines have recently suffered significant injuries from Rhets attacks. Mining operations are currently suspended, and—"
"What? Mining has been suspended?!"
The words burst out of me before I could stop them.
Iron ore was one of the minerals I was going to need in endless quantities. And if the miners were getting hurt, that meant the Bladewyn cash flow dried up.
Which meant Father would have less ability to fund me!
How could things possibly get any worse?!!
"Please calm yourself, young master. The injuries were not critical."
"They could get critical next time!"
"Robon. Do you have any idea where you are, raising your voice like that?"
Mother's icy look cut across the hall, but was dignity really the priority right now? I ignored her and pressed on.
"But—"
"Continue, Financial Officer."
Father's intervention shut me up. Push any further and I'd genuinely be in trouble.
"We ought to dispatch more soldiers to guard the mines, but after this subjugation so many men are wounded that a substantial deployment is simply not realistic. The villagers have formed a self-defense militia and are trying to drive the creatures off themselves, but in truth it is not going well."
It wasn't as though there was only one mine, and soldiers were already stretched thin across more posts than people realized.
Stationing one or two guards wouldn't protect a mine anyway.
A real commitment would mean a serious troop presence — and we simply didn't have the men.
"Propose a solution."
"What if we commit knights?"
"Too great an investment."
"Then equipping the militia with weapons so they can protect themselves?"
"Men who've never properly swung a sword will struggle against a pack of Rhets. Putting a weapon in someone's hand doesn't mean they can use it."
No real answer was emerging…
"Robon. What do you think?"
Brother Gain turned to me.
Every gaze in the room locked onto me at once. Expectant eyes. Even Father looked like he was waiting for something.
Tsk. It's not finished yet. But I don't have much choice.
"We build a weapon ordinary villagers can use immediately — something that kills at range."
A budget crossbow for general issue.
That alone would be enough to raise the militia's fighting power.