Hydroelectric Generator (1)
Lately, problems with magical beasts had begun to surface all across the land.
The creatures’ savagery and aggression were climbing, and they were encroaching on human territory with alarming frequency. The families suffering the worst of it were Bladewyn and Robel.
Bladewyn, at least, had seen a sharp drop in casualties among the villagers thanks to the mass-produced crossbows Robon had recently designed. Robel was not so fortunate. Beasts pouring out of the neighboring swamps and forests kept crossing the Blue Plains to attack farmers, and the body count had started to climb. The Robel family treated the crisis as a matter of the utmost gravity.
So Alfred Robel, head of the house, went to the Grand Duke’s castle to request support.
“Your Grace. The situation in the south is quite serious. If the farmers keep taking losses, next year’s harvest could fall dramatically.”
Grand Duke Alvin stroked his beard and gave a slow nod.
“A grave matter indeed. We cannot afford a drop in agricultural yield. Well then.”
“Yes. That is why I humbly request additional soldiers from the Principality.”
“How many do you want?”
“I request the support of one knight order and one company of troops.”
“That is enough force to sweep Lostwood clean. Are you aware of that?”
Of course, that assumed there were no magical beasts in the forest.
“Yes. I intend to pull them out by the roots while we have the chance.”
Alvin was skeptical. They still had not even discovered why the magical beasts were appearing. Could they truly eradicate them? Worse, if a particularly powerful beast showed itself, knights could die.
“Bladewyn has not requested any support. Why has Robel?”
“...Bladewyn’s situation is better than ours. The beasts pouring out of Lostwood are different from the ones on their side.”
“The beasts around the mines have quite the temper of their own.”
“The forest beasts eat people.”
“Very well! I will dispatch a knight order and one company of troops as you request.”
“Truly? Thank you! Your Grace!!”
Alfred bowed his head in gratitude.
“In exchange.”
Alvin had no intention of offering free aid.
“Hand over the Black Terrahole in Robel’s possession.”
“...Pardon?”
The unexpected price shook Alfred’s composure. He had expected the Grand Duke to demand something—money, or a future reduction in grain prices. He had never imagined it would be the Black Terrahole. The request was so far outside his expectations that he could not answer at once.
“What? Do you dislike the terms?”
“No, that is not it, but... Why do you want that of all things? If you wait, Vulkan will build one for you.”
“Far too slow. Three months to produce a single unit—I cannot stand the wait. Just hand yours over to me. In return, this support will come with no further strings attached.”
“Your Grace! This is not merely Robel’s problem—it is a crisis for the entire Principality!”
“I am aware. However, it is not yet a crisis that warrants deploying the Principality’s knight orders. You know as well as I do that this is the most dangerous moment.”
Struck squarely in the heart of the matter, Alfred fell silent. Alvin had pinpointed the critical issue with perfect accuracy.
This was the phase when magical beasts were only beginning to appear, when damage was cropping up in region after region, and when humans were only just starting to raise their guard. Marching into Lostwood to kill them without even knowing the cause was practically a suicide mission. Raising the odds of survival would require overwhelming force—and Robel intended to cover that need with the Principality’s troops.
Slippery bastard. Did you think I would not see through that?
Sharp instincts. As expected, this will not be easy.
An invisible psychological battle raged between them. On the surface each man played the role of the composed lord or the desperate vassal; neither revealed his true hand. In the end, Alfred—who had no choice but to be the weaker party—took a step back.
“The Black Terrahole... I will give it to you.”
“Oh! Truly? How kind of you. If you desire it that badly, of course the Principality must take an interest!”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
Grand Duke Alvin broke into a broad grin.
“Hahahahaha! Then in place of the Black Terrahole, I will give you a fine horse. Ride that home.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The moment Alfred left, Alvin strode outside and climbed into the Black Terrahole the man had left behind.
“Hmm... Still. It simply does not please me.”
The image of the Black Terrahole R1 Ted had ridden last time still hung vividly before his eyes. That magnificent, majestic form. As the ruler of a nation, was he not entitled to ride a vehicle of that caliber?
“Administrator Vali!”
Bang!
The door flew open with such force that Administrator Vali jumped and scolded him at once.
“Please open doors more gently, Your Grace!”
“Hahaha. Forgive me. I am simply too excited at the moment.”
“What is the matter?”
“Send a messenger to Bladewyn at once. I have just obtained a Black Terrahole from Alfred.”
“Pardon? A Black Terrahole, you say?”
“Yes. I received it as the condition for supporting them against the magical beasts. Confirm the details in writing later. What matters right now is remodeling the Black Terrahole.”
“......Surely you mean Robon Bladewyn?”
“Exactly. Tell them I will provide whatever materials the remodel requires, and that I want it done as quickly as possible. Of course there will be appropriate compensation. No—I should go myself.”
Vali’s expression soured. He pressed his temples as if a headache were already blooming.
“Your Grace. The state treasury is not exactly overflowing at present. Do you have any idea how much Bladewyn might demand?”
“Ted and I are rather close. He will take care of me. And I am the king!”
“That is precisely the problem—you are the king. You cannot simply strong-arm them into a discount, can you? Haa... There is a financial officer there named Samuel who is extremely meticulous. Driving the price down will not be easy.”
“Think of it as the cost of maintaining dignity. Proceed!”
Faced with the Grand Duke’s bullheaded momentum, Vali heaved a deep sigh.
Meanwhile, back in his Blue Plains territory, Alfred was thoroughly satisfied with the support he had secured.
“In the long run, this investment is the right call. Who cares about one Black Terrahole? I never liked Ted strutting around with that thing anyway.”
With substantial Principality forces at his disposal, the risk of injury to his own knights had dropped dramatically. Moreover, every Principality soldier was essentially elite. If he used this chance to wipe out the magical beasts and conduct a little Lostwood exploration on the side, the trade was not a bad one at all.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“My lord. It is Gast Robel.”
“Come in.”
Alfred’s mood, already improved by the tidying of his thoughts, brightened further.
“Yes—you worked hard on the recent beast subjugation, Sir Gast.”
“Yes. I have come to ask a favor of you, my lord.”
“Oh, a favor? What is it? Speak.”
“Have you heard that Burgess Bladewyn killed a monkey-type magical beast during this campaign?”
At the name Bladewyn, Alfred’s expression hardened slightly.
“I have.”
“Burgess was using a certain bow. That bow killed, with only two arrows, a beast that had rendered dozens of our soldiers combat-ineffective.”
“...What? There was a bow like that? Was Burgess even someone who used a bow?”
“He is a knight who wields both sword and bow, though he primarily uses the sword. This time, however, he brought a newly crafted bow. Its power was exactly as enormous as I described.”
The further Gast spoke, the more unease settled over Alfred.
“Surely you are not about to tell me Robon Bladewyn made that as well?”
Irritation was written plainly across Alfred’s face. Gast hesitated, then finally spoke.
“Yes. There is also a rumor that Bladewyn is protecting the mining region with a mass-produced version of that same bow. Judging by the power of the one I saw, it is entirely plausible.”
“So that is why Bladewyn has been so quiet...”
“Yes. Which is why I was thinking... perhaps we could ask Bladewyn to produce those bows for—”
Crash!!
Alfred’s irritation finally hit its limit. He hurled the teacup in his hand against the wall.
“Again! Again! Again! Bladewyn! Do you not understand the relationship between our house and Bladewyn?!”
“I do understand. But having already received their help once, asking one more—”
“Even that one time was only because of His Grace’s command, and we had no choice! And now you want me to go and beg of my own free will? Hmm?”
“But if we refuse to cooperate, the gap in military power between Bladewyn and Robel will only grow wider! My lord!”
“Enough! Get out at once! If you so much as utter the first letter of ‘Bladewyn’ in front of me again—!!”
Gast clamped his mouth shut and was driven from the room.
This was something that had to be said. I had no choice.
He had spent days after returning from the mission turning it over and discussing it. If it had not been Bladewyn, the matter would never have grown so complicated—but having witnessed that power with his own eyes, he could not simply look the other way.
If we had only had that bow, far fewer Robel soldiers would have died.
That was why Gast had swallowed his pride and spoken, fully prepared to be scolded by his lord.
My lord is only worked up for the moment. Once his emotions settle, he will judge properly.
That was the Alfred Gast knew.
Robon Bladewyn... How did that good-for-nothing ever produce something like that?
It made no sense. Having seen it himself made it all the more incomprehensible. The Robon Bladewyn he remembered had been the very picture of a spoiled, worthless young master.
“......Could it be. Has he been acting all this time?!”
If he had been playing the fool all along—masking himself as an idiot for this very moment, to open the gap with Robel—!
A chill raced down Gast’s entire body. The old images of Robon’s wastrel antics layered over one another until a sly smile seemed to float behind the young man’s face.
If... if that is true...
The gap between Robel and Bladewyn would widen in an instant. No—it might already have opened. If they continued to maintain this hostile relationship, Robel might fall forever behind...
“I need to meet him myself. Robon Bladewyn.”
“Heh heh heh...”
Laughter kept slipping out of him. Was it only his imagination that everything seemed to be going so smoothly these days?
“Director Robon. I have adjusted the improved range of the waterproofing magic on this iron plate.”
“Let me see.”
Andersen had inscribed a mana circuit sized to the small iron plate and successfully applied the magical treatment. When they poured water over it, the liquid slid across the surface as if it were greased.
“As expected! I really do have an eye for people. At this research pace, Magic Advisor, you will achieve your dearest wish in no time!”
“...My dearest wish is not a cure for baldness!”
“I never said it was a cure for baldness.”
“That is exactly what you meant!”
“Oh, come on. Anyway! Now we only need the fine adjustments.”
“But is it really necessary to go this far? Iron does not mind contact with water to begin with, does it?”
“No. Without this process it will rust quickly, and that can interfere with the rotation. We could skip it, of course, but if we can do it, we should. Is that not the whole advantage of magitech engineering?”
The more he studied and researched magitech engineering, the clearer its distinct strengths and weaknesses became. The strength was that drawing on magic gave it an enormous range of applications and versatility. The weakness was that the energy consumption was just as enormous. The original Black Terrahole from Vulkan was proof enough—mana fuel poured into every last function, and the efficiency never came out right.
“The core is engineering. Magitech is just the garnish.”
Every day was a joy. Creating something new from new technology and new knowledge—that alone made this life more than satisfying enough.
The research funding is not bad either.
In truth, it was still far from enough. Even now he needed an A-grade mana stone to produce magnets, and the shortfall in support was holding him back. But if he did not have something, he simply researched without it. He was already far too used to that kind of work.
“Ah, and I found a rather good waterfall in the area. It looks better than the stream we saw last time. Shall we go take a look?”
“There is a waterfall near here?!”
What kind of windfall was this? If he built a waterwheel there and turned it into a generator...
“Where is it? Let’s go right now!”