Light (1)
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Gain Bladewyn drew a steadying breath as he struck the training dummy, then lifted his head.
Night was already settling in.
Time to wrap up training.
Solo sword drills were one thing — he could swing a blade into empty air all night if he wanted. His men were another matter. Without light, they couldn't track their own forms; night practice would only ruin their technique. And with Gain unable to correct them properly in the dark, evening swordwork did more harm than good.
"That concludes today's training. Cool down and dismiss."
The knights sheathed their blades with obvious reluctance.
"Anyone I catch swinging a sword on the sly can deal with the consequences themselves."
Gain sheathed his own weapon and began to stretch. He was just as disappointed as they were — but there was no helping it. Rushing only led to mistakes.
"Brother! Still at it? It's already pitch-dark out here."
Robon had been passing the training grounds when he spotted Gain and came over. His laboratory sat in the mountains beyond the yard, so every trip between the manor and his workshop took him straight through the training field.
"I was just about to leave."
"Because it's gotten dark?"
"That's right. We trained through the day, so we rest at night."
"Heh heh heh…"
Robon let out an unpleasant little chuckle, eyes half-lidded as he scanned the gathered knights.
"What is it?"
"Everyone looks pretty disappointed."
"They would. We've been getting reports of monster sightings lately, and word of knights dying."
"What? Knights dying?"
"You hadn't heard? The Robel subjugation force took catastrophic losses when monsters ambushed them in Lostwood."
Robon's mouth fell open. The idea that those formidable knights had fallen to mere beasts genuinely shocked him.
"No need to look so stunned. They were only apprentice knights. Full-fledged knights wouldn't have gone down that easily."
"Hmm… So that's why everyone wants to keep training."
"Exactly."
Gain swept his gaze over his men as he spoke. Their eyes had already drifted this way; a few were staring at Robon with undisguised interest. Gain knew what those looks meant. These were the ones who'd been gushing nonstop about Robon's latest inventions.
Captain, have you seen the bow Young Master Robon made? The crossbow? I borrowed one and tried it myself — the performance is insane. Absolutely insane.
These days I can't even drink water without a Robon-001. Drawing from the well just doesn't taste the same anymore.
You know what Young Master Robon's working on now? I went to get my Robon-001 fixed the other day and — I found something incredible. You'd all lose your minds if you saw it.
I had no idea the young master was that brilliant. At this rate he might even forge us a magic sword. Hahahaha!
Lately, whenever the knights gathered, the talk always turned to Robon — especially the crossbow he'd built. They'd begged and begged for a chance to try the weapon. Gain had barked at them to focus on their swordwork instead.
No matter how clever Robon is, he can't defy nature itself.
Without magic, how could something like that even be possible?
Worried his men were putting unfair pressure on his little brother, Gain was about to speak up — when Robon strode outside, hauled a massive contraption off a cart, and set it on the ground.
"Want me to make it so you can keep training?"
The knights' eyes lit up at once.
"Even for you, Robon, this is impossible. If you're thinking of using lightstones, forget it. Burn through those and you'll bankrupt the entire family."
Gain's concern didn't slow Robon in the slightest. He wagged a finger and pulled a small glass sphere from the cart.
"It's still a prototype, but… You there, gentlemen. Come give me a hand."
The knights glanced at Gain for permission; when he nodded, they scrambled over at once.
"Drive these wooden posts in a ring around the training ground."
"Understood."
"What's he up to this time?"
"What could you even do with poles this big? I can't begin to guess."
They planted wooden posts roughly three times a knight's height and hung the glass spheres from the tips.
"What's this cord for?"
"We're connecting it to every post."
He had drawn copper into thin, long wire, then coated it with a heated mixture of rubber solution and pine resin. After that he'd melted beeswax into a wax insulating layer and wrapped the whole thing in thin sheets of troll hide as a substitute for proper cabling. Troll hide offered strong resistance to electrical current, making it an excellent wire wrap — though the price was painfully high.
"Whew… Done."
"It's gotten dark already. Ugh… Starting to get chilly, too."
"Do we connect this line here?"
"That's right. Twist the end of the wire around the leads sticking out of the bulb."
Once the bulbs were wired in, he linked them to a makeshift capacitor.
"Perfect."
In no time at all, a ring of improvised lamps stood around the vast training ground. He couldn't produce a proper filament yet, so he'd made do with iron; the glow would be weak, and without a stable vacuum inside, the bulbs wouldn't last long.
Even so—
"All right. Lights on!"
Clack!
Bzzzzzzzzzt—!
A dozen bulbs flared to life at once. Weak individually, together they flooded the darkened yard with light.
The knights' eyes went round as saucers — as if their eyeballs might pop clean out of their heads.
"Light? Light… It's light!"
"How… how did you do this?"
"What is that? Those aren't lightstones! How—?"
"I can see! The whole training ground! My sword — everything! We can actually train like this!!"
"Captain!"
The knights were practically vibrating with excitement. Gain stood frozen, staring at a scene he could not quite believe even with his own eyes.
"This… isn't magic?"
Robon only smirked at the question.
"Nope. This isn't magic — it's science."
"Doesn't it burn through a fortune in mana stones?"
"Heh."
Robon shook his head.
With enough money, even Vulkan could light an entire city overnight. The problem was that the cost was astronomical. The real heart of this light was something else entirely: it cost almost nothing. Not a single silver piece had gone into the glow filling the yard right now.
"It's free. Completely free."
"…Is that actually possible?"
"Yes. I'll show you later, Brother."
Robon gave Gain a light shove between the shoulder blades.
"So go enjoy yourselves with your men!"
Gain trudged forward, glanced back — and the corner of his mouth curled upward. He drew his sword and cut through the air. He could see everything. As clear and vivid as training in broad daylight.
"This setup will probably start dimming in an hour or two at most. You'll need to swap the bulbs when that happens, so keep it in mind."
Magical treatment was the only reason they lasted even that long; without it, half an hour would have been optimistic.
"Truly… you never stop surprising me."
Gain meant every word. A year ago he could never have imagined receiving this kind of help from Robon.
"Thank you, Robon."
"It's nothing. Haha."
Robon smiled, quietly pleased. Gain had done so much for him; he wanted to give something back. Every time he walked to the lab he'd watched the knights training until sweat poured off them. Their grit — wanting to keep going even after dark — had moved him. He'd sworn that the moment he finished a working lightbulb, the training ground would get the first set. And now he'd finally done it.
"All hands! Salute!"
—Loyalty!!
As one, the knights raised their scabbards in their left hands and their blades high in their right, then bowed their heads — the formal gesture of a knight's respect.
Robon froze for a beat, then mirrored them the only way he knew how, bringing the edge of his hand to his brow in a modern military salute. It was the only soldiers' salute he remembered.
Heh. After a gift like this, they won't mind if I ask them to guard the hydroelectric generator now and then… right?
Helping his brother had been part of it, sure. But the real motive was pure Robon: worrying about his power plant and nothing else.
"Hyah! Hyah!!"
Hiiiiiiin—!
He drove the horse hard over the ridge, and at last Iron Hall appeared as a distant smudge on the horizon.
The day was already dying. Soon Iron Hall would bar all outsiders for the night; even at a full gallop he wouldn't make it in time.
Gast Robel dismounted, pulled off his helm, and leaned against a tree for a brief rest.
"Haa… haa… I feel like I'm dying."
He wanted nothing more than to peel off the crushing armor and hurl it aside — but he couldn't. Armor was a knight's emblem. And with monsters liable to appear at any moment, stripping down was an excellent way to get killed.
Even riding without a single stop, he still had a good five or six hours to go. The horse was already in bad shape; push any harder and the animal would collapse from exhaustion.
"You're worn out too, aren't you? You've done well. Rest a bit."
Gast stroked the horse's head and fished a carrot from his pack. The beast crunched through it with desperate haste — clearly starving.
Gast chewed a scrap of hard bread from the same bag and let out a long sigh.
Something's gone wrong.
The monsters that had started appearing lately didn't just wander. They moved in packs and attacked humans with deliberate strategy. A thousand Robel troops, fighting alongside the principality's guardian knights, had been thoroughly crushed. More precisely, the Robels had been crushed. The principality's knights and a single company of soldiers had minimized their losses under sound command and withdrawn quickly. The Robels, thanks to Eldin Robel's reckless charge, had suffered catastrophic casualties.
"If only we'd had the crossbows Burgess used, it would have been a different fight."
One monster had hurled bone projectiles from range. Dozens of soldiers had fallen to that thing alone. It was intelligent — deliberately wounding men instead of killing them outright, crippling the unit's mobility. Even when the knights tried to take it down, its overwhelming senses and blistering speed left them unable to respond.
"That damn bastard…"
Grind—
Gast clenched his teeth. The image of that creature meeting his eyes and curling its lip still wouldn't leave his head. Watching a senior knight — a comrade — collapse and die right in front of him, while the monster openly mocked them from plain sight, and being able to do nothing… The rage and resentment still burned.
What good had pride done them? If they'd swallowed it just once, bowed their heads to the Bladewyns, and asked for help, none of this would have happened.
"I can't sit here. Shall we go again?"
Hiiiiin—!
"Sorry. Your master's useless."
Hiiin! Hiiin!
The horse snorted roughly and shoved its head against him. Was the beast trying to comfort him?
"Let's go."
*
The west gate guards of Iron Hall blocked Gast's path.
"Yaaawn… No outsiders after hours. Turn back or wait nearby."
"I am Gast Robel of House Robel. This is urgent — open the gate at once."
"Absolutely not. And looking at the state of you…"
The guard looked him up and down and shook his head.
The disrespect from a mere gate sentry toward a knight snapped the last thread of Gast's frayed temper.
Shiiing—!
"How dare you take that tone with me — Gast Robel, knight of the great House Robel! Open this gate immediately!"
Both guards scrambled to draw their swords and edged back. Their opponent was a knight; two sentries wouldn't last a single exchange.
"I have no wish to use force. Open the gate now and I'll let this pass. Do you truly think a Robel knight would run wild on Bladewyn land?"
"Looks like you already are."
Burgess Bladewyn came ambling up from behind. The guards hurriedly bowed their heads.
"Burgess?"
"What's your business at this hour?"
"Help me. I need to see Robon Bladewyn."
"No. Anyone with a drawn sword doesn't get near my little brother."
Burgess refused flatly and began to pull up his Aura.
"I'm sorry. I lost my head for a moment. Please — every second counts. The Robel subjugation force is cut off by monsters. We need help."
"……"
Burgess stared at him for a long moment, taking in the raw desperation in Gast's voice, then gave a short nod.
"Follow me."
"Thank you!"
The sight that greeted Gast when they reached Bladewyn Castle was so stunning he nearly forgot why he'd come at all.
It was night. A night that should have held no light whatsoever…
"Hahp!"
"Watch the eyes! How many times have I told you to follow your opponent's gaze!"
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Under a blaze of pure white light, Bladewyn knights were hard at sword practice as if it were broad day.
"Lightstones? Since when is Bladewyn this rich?"
"Idiot. Not lightstones — lightbulbs."
Burgess clicked his tongue and corrected him.
"Light… bulbs? What are those?"
"Things that make light."
"Light…?"
Burgess nodded and kept walking past the training ground.
Gast could only stare at the Bladewyn yard with a thoroughly vacant expression.