Change and Recognition (2)
Southern outskirts of Eidras Castle, Mardan Principality.
The alley was so narrow that barely two people could pass shoulder to shoulder. Uneven stone paving, slick with moss, ran underfoot. Narrow sewers of filthy water flanked both sides.
Even with the sun high at midday the place stayed dim, hanging rags and laundry blocking the light in patches.
Andersen pinched his nose against the reek of rotting food and garbage heaps, his face twisting in disgust.
Definitely nothing like Blædwin territory.
Would places like this change once Robon Blædwin's research advanced further?
Still turning the thought over, he stepped into a shabby building.
"Who's there... eek!"
Two men he had seen once before and a female clerk spotted him and scrambled backward.
"Mage, sir! You've come. Haha."
"The guild master stepped out for a moment, but... i-it's true this time! Really!"
"May I wait upstairs?"
"Of course! Hahaha! As it happens, the guild master told us to show you up the moment you arrived. Right this way!"
The greasy-looking man ushered Andersen into the guild master's room.
"Where's Derik?"
"He's been busy with something important lately."
"What kind of something?"
"...I don't really know myself."
"Talk."
Andersen's eyes flared blue. The man dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead to the floor.
"There are rumors that strange groups have been moving through the principality! People say it's just talk, but the guild master is taking it seriously and looking into it himself!"
"...Understood. Get out."
"Yes, sir!"
Andersen pulled off his robe hood and set down the load he had brought.
Derik's desk was buried under documents and books. Most of it was worthless, yet as Andersen leafed through the pile he stacked a few sheets so that the letters at the edges formed a continuous line, then read them.
"It's inside the memories..."
He glanced around the room and crossed to an old dagger resting on the left-hand shelf.
A weapon that held memories of the two of them. He gripped it, twisted the hilt, and peered into the hidden compartment. A single scrap of paper lay inside.
Did you bring the Robon-001 I told you to fetch? Late as hell, aren't you. Tch. Did you pass my word on to Robon Blædwin? Heh. Of course you didn't. Never expected you to. Anyway, I've got intel that the Fallen have turned up in Mardan. Odds are it's garbage, but if it's true... things are going to get real annoying. Just so you know. Stay out of it, Andersen. You can't even cast properly, you bastard.
"Hmph. Stay out of it?"
He crumpled the note and stuffed it into his robes.
His gaze fell on the Robon-001 sitting on the floor; Andersen bit his lip.
"I may be a little late, Director."
"Jackpot! Absolute jackpot!!"
Having secured a massive shipment of Robon-001 through their deal with the Blædwins, the Pacific Merchant Group was currently in the western Helrek family's territory.
"How much is this already?"
They had bought the Robon-001 units from Blædwin in bulk at ten silver apiece and were selling them here for fifty silver each.
A cool five-hundred-percent return!
The reason it worked so well was the desert belt created by the Dejit Mountains, which cut the eastern Helrek lands off from the sea. Sandstorms roared through constantly, so grit ending up in the water was an everyday misery.
A filter that stripped out that sediment was nothing less than a ray of light for people living that life.
"We could've gone eighty silver. Did I underprice it?"
"No, sir. Anything higher and Agatha Helrek might have thrown us out."
The subordinate assisting Hector shook his head hard, looking genuinely alarmed.
"Did you see the Helrek family head's face?"
"What about it?"
"She looked at you like you were a bug, Deputy Leader."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Hector hummed as he strolled the streets of the territory.
Family Head Agatha had bought the Robon-001 units in bulk and then handed them on to her people at dirt-cheap prices.
Wherever he walked, the only talk was about the Robon-001. Watching smiles bloom on every face made him feel oddly good about having helped them, even if only by accident.
"How about a celebratory drink? I hear Helrek beer is supposed to be excellent."
"Sounds good."
Hector and the merchants found a tavern and claimed a table.
Sure enough, the next table over was already buzzing about the Robon-001.
"So this is the thing that Robon Blædwin made, right?"
"Ha. Something even the Helrek family couldn't build, and that Blædwin good-for-nothing cooked it up? You buy that?"
"Idiots. Rumors always get inflated. He probably slapped together some metal body and claimed the whole thing."
"Exactly! Or wait—forget the body. He just stuck a leather ring on it and called it done. Hahahaha!"
"Right, right! Hahaha!"
Irritated by the drunken nonsense, Hector drained his beer in long gulps and surged to his feet.
"Deputy Leader?"
"You brain-dead bastards!!"
Cheeks flushed, Hector jabbed a finger at them and roared.
"Robon Blædwin's a what? A good-for-nothing? Ha! He's a hundred times better than the likes of you!"
"What the hell is this lunatic?"
"Crazy drunk. Go sleep it off in the gutter."
The men who had been bad-mouthing him stood and closed in with ugly looks. Hector's table rose as one.
Eyes turned their way; people who recognized the Pacific Merchant Group began whispering.
"Aren't those the merchants who just arrived?"
"The ones who sold the Robon-001?"
"So it really is Robon Blædwin's work? Why else would a merchant house defend him?"
"Yeah, that tracks."
Shhhhk—.
A hired escort drew his sword. The men went pale and looked away.
"Ahem, ahem! Drink in moderation, yeah?"
"When did I ever call him a good-for-nothing? I just said maybe he is. Maybe."
"Ugh, ruined my drink. Let's go."
Hector started after the fleeing men, still pointing, until the other merchants hauled him back.
"That's enough, Deputy Leader."
"Enough? They dare slander our patron? What if bad talk spreads and the product stops selling—are those clowns going to make it right?!"
At that, the merchants exchanged looks that said of course that's what this is about and sat back down.
"Anything Robon Blædwin makes is the best! The absolute best!!"
Hector's drunken tirade rolled on after that, and the noise marketing worked wonders—Robon-001 began flying off the shelves across Helrek territory.
Lobel Castle.
The subjugation force that had returned after a successful beast hunt was greeted with open cheers.
The failure of the previous expedition was already fading, and Erdin Lobel's reputation had soared beyond any previous comparison.
"Erdin, I never truly believed you would complete the mission this splendidly."
Family Head Alfred Lobel meant every word. He had expected only that Erdin would lean on the Guardian Knights and come home alive; that alone would have been enough to repair the damage from the last failure and restore some of Lobel's name.
Instead Erdin had claimed every major achievement for himself rather than the principality's knights. An outcome no one had predicted.
"I dislike that you dragged Blædwin into it, but you salvaged a mission that nearly failed. I will overlook that much."
"Thank you, Father."
The look Alfred gave his son had grown noticeably warmer.
"So. Is there something you want? Speak freely. There is nothing this house cannot afford."
"Permit exchange with Blædwin."
Alfred's brow twitched.
"...What did you just say?"
"This incident taught me something. Lobel and Blædwin cannot keep living solely as rivals forever."
"And why do you think that?"
"We took down the black panther only because we used Blædwin's latest technology. The Robon-002 that punched a hole through its skull—the compound crossbow—is an outstanding weapon that can push a knight's offensive power past its old limits."
"I saw it myself. Truly remarkable."
The strangely shaped bow Gast Lobel had brought back was already the talk of the knight corps.
Built around the enormous elasticity of troll sinew, the reinforced limbs somehow produced extreme destructive force. The pulleys mounted alongside multiplied that power while assisting the draw, so the overall performance was more than doubled.
No one understood the principle, yet word was that Robon Blædwin had conceived the whole thing. Even that so-called good-for-nothing was starting to look different.
He's become a completely different person.
Or perhaps the good-for-nothing act had been a mask all along.
Still, that was no reason for Lobel to bow its head to Blædwin.
"Requests have already come in from the knights. They want those weapons supplied. Even the Guardian Knights are said to be eyeing them."
"Yes, exactly. Our family's strengths are abundant resources and money, are they not? If we use those to improve relations with the Blædwin house—"
"Denied."
"Why, Father?!"
"Blædwin has been our sworn enemy since the days of our ancestors. Becoming equals is one thing; approaching them with our heads already lowered is unthinkable! Absolutely not!"
Alfred was immovable. Erdin had clearly expected the reaction and did not press further.
"I am not trying to improve relations with them simply for the sake of a bow."
"Then for what?"
"Would you believe that a single small bomb could seal the eyes and ears of an entire knight order for several seconds?"
"......"
"That bomb is what let us take the black panther this time as well."
The lines between Alfred's brows cut even deeper.
"How did it go?"
Gast Lobel, who had earned Erdin's absolute trust through the subjugation, asked the question carefully.
"I did as you asked. It failed."
"...I expected as much. Thank you, Lord Erdin."
"Of course. For my own knight, this much is nothing."
Erdin's entire manner toward Gast had flipped.
"I don't like those Blædwin dogs either, but for the next family-head seat I'll do what I must."
"You will need to keep stacking achievements and using them to push the Blædwin connection."
"Tch. But is that true? That a flashbang really has that kind of power?"
Erdin had said the words himself, yet he still did not fully believe them. If Sernia had not testified, he would have dismissed the claim as pure nonsense.
"Robon Blædwin has begun to handle light itself. Once you see it with your own eyes, you will understand."
"Then I will have to visit Blædwin in person."
"An excellent decision."
"Why the hell is this guy still not back?"
I had mountains of work stacked up, and the single most important person had casually taken leave and still had not returned after a full week.
"Ah, I need to finish this already."
The new off-road vehicle I was building.
Brutal Force.
A name I coined myself—overcoming brutal terrain with raw power.
"Father's stare has been getting sharper by the day."
Whenever a sudden chill brushed my neck inside the manor, I could count on finding Father watching me from somewhere. Lately I had started checking whether he was around before I even walked the halls.
Nothing was getting finished until Andersen showed up!
"Young Masteeer!"
In the distance Rachel came up the path with both arms loaded with baskets of laundry.
"Why are you carrying so much? Here, give me some."
"It's all right, Young Master."
"No it isn't. I'll take half, then."
Once I lightened the load, Rachel's face finally appeared from behind the clothes.
"Thank you, Young Master."
"Don't thank me. I should be thanking you more."
"You've been staying in the lab without even changing clothes lately, haven't you? Please change every day, and leave the laundry right here."
"Got it."
"Oh, and a letter arrived for you, Young Master."
"Letters come every day."
These days I was getting close to dozens of letters a day from various nobles—wanting to see the new inventions, wanting to work with me, wanting to borrow money—every kind of nonsense. Most of them went straight into the trash unread.
"It was from the mage, sir."
"Andersen?"
I tore it open in a hurry.
The message was simple. Something had come up; he would be a little late.
"Did he actually run away? Did I dump too much work on him?"
Even so, ghosting me with a lie felt a bit much.
"Also, the second young master who went to Lobel has returned."
"...What?"
No way.
"And the Bl...ack Terahole came with him?"
"Yes."
I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed a hand to my forehead.
"Father? You haven't seen Father, right?"
"I don't know. The family head has probably already heard by now—"
No time for this. I had to get to the damaged Black Terahole R1 first.
It wasn't half-wrecked or anything, right? Right?
Praying hard, I headed for the central garden of the manor. And there it sat—a familiar-looking heap of scrap metal.
Oh my god.