Red Tiller (4)
Everyone from the household had poured outside.
What invention had Robon Blædwin brought this time? The Robon 001 had already been revolutionary—so what about this? They thronged around him, buzzing with curiosity.
"Hey, we can actually trust this thing, right?"
"I told you not to worry."
From the moment he entered Lobel territory, Robon had been certain. This was the perfect time to unveil the cultivator.
"Is that the machine?"
"Yes. That's it."
The Red Tiller sat mounted on a steel cart. Its signature feature was the curved blades strung beneath a crimson frame.
"The name is Red Tiller. It means red cultivator."
They headed to a nearby field to verify its performance—untilled ground, dozens of acres of granary land spread across the plain.
Whoooosh—!
The wind was fierce. Lobel's Blue Field territory was known for rich soil, but the weather was notoriously brutal. That, people said, was why the Lobel family themselves had such foul tempers.
"So those blades turn the earth over?"
"That's right."
Robon cranked the handle with vigorous force.
The cultivator shuddered, belching white smoke, then roared to life with a rough, guttural howl—as if an engine were waking from sleep.
KUUUUUUUUUGGHH!!
Rattlerattlerattlerattle…
Before anyone could fully fall under the spell of that strange noise, the Red Tiller's blades began tearing through the earth, driving forward. Thorn-like edges split hard stones and pulverized packed soil, flinging it outward. Ground that would have taken a single farmer hours of backbreaking work was tilled clean with only a few passes of the machine.
The watching farmers startled and cried out from every direction.
"W-what in the world is that? Flipping the soil like that without a single beast of burden! I can hardly believe my own eyes."
"No one even laid a hand on it? You can't compare this to working oxen!"
"Sitting in a chair and handling this much land so easily… A cultivator? If they could buy something like that, farmers would sell their houses for it."
Their reaction was explosive. Their eyes shone as if they were staring at ripe, juice-heavy fruit.
"Is that really so difficult?"
At Arnold's surly mutter, Erdin tore into him without mercy.
"You idiot. This is exactly why people who know nothing shouldn't talk about the territory. 'Is that really so difficult?' Want to dig a field yourself with a plow—no aura? Spring's barely arrived. The ground isn't even fully thawed. Farmers who try to work land like this wreck their whole bodies in no time."
"Ha! As if you know anything."
"Erdin's right."
The administrator studying the field walked over, picked up a shattered rock fragment, and asked a farmer nearby,
"How would you split a boulder the size of a man's head with a pickaxe?"
"You can't, sir. You have to dig out the surrounding earth somehow and haul it free. But if you don't know one's there and you bring the pickaxe down with all your strength, hands and arms get wrecked."
"So I see."
The administrator's eyes lit as he looked over the soil tilled in an instant.
"This is the perfect solution for the mass death of our oxen—and the core technology of the future that will slash Lobel's agricultural labor force to the extreme."
Unlike the other nobles, the administrator had been interested in farming since childhood. He grasped the cultivator's importance at once.
"Exactly. And this is only the beginning."
Riding the mood, Erdin slipped in a little swagger.
"Only the beginning?"
"You mean you can make something even greater than this?"
The senior retainers couldn't close their mouths. They stared at Erdin with shocked eyes.
Did he foresee this crisis?
Erdin? Impossible. How would he know?
Robon Blædwin truly is something else. How does he whip up a thing like this so casually?
Having finished the demonstration, Robon climbed down from the cultivator and approached them. He didn't know what they'd been discussing, but every face looked wrecked—properly stunned. Greed glittered in the nobles' eyes at the cultivator's miraculous performance.
"This is equipment we poured two months of hard work into developing with the ten thousand gold Erdin brought. We're already building five more units back home."
"Five more of these?"
Alfred echoed in surprise.
"Yes. We originally meant to use them for our own family, but since Erdin Lobel's investment made the development possible, we're thinking of selling them to House Lobel. We'll give you a special price. It looks like your territory has some trouble as it is."
Six machines wouldn't be nearly enough to fix the current crisis, but they would help a great deal. These six cultivators would at least be a defibrillator—blowing breath back into people who were half-dead. And the air would be so sweet they would never forget it for the rest of their lives.
"…How much? I'll take them all."
"Two thousand gold per unit."
"Fine. We'll buy."
This time Robon struggled to keep his poker face. He had named a high figure expecting negotiation—and they called it on the spot.
As expected, the rich moved on a different scale.
"Call."
The Lobel manor felt completely different from the Blædwin estate. Where the Blædwins favored a calm, refined atmosphere, the Lobels leaned gaudy and oversized. Robon couldn't help wondering just how much money they had, to fill the place with so many extravagances that looked utterly useless.
"Sit."
Leaving the family head's study, Erdin sat facing Alfred. Erdin's expression was a sight—wound tight, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He jabbed Robon with an elbow and shot him a pleading look, as if begging him to speak well. Robon felt like a parent dragged to school with a problem child.
"I want additional cultivators manufactured."
"That's impossible. We don't have the time or the money to make more."
"…Why not?"
"We're preparing a large-scale construction project in Iron Hall."
"What kind of construction?"
"That would be…"
Robon drew an elegant letter from his coat and handed it to Alfred.
"An invitation to Wendy's coming-of-age ceremony. I meant to deliver it while I was here. As for the construction—come see for yourself."
"A coming-of-age… Very well."
Alfred tucked it away without fuss and shifted his gaze to Erdin.
"That aside—are you the one who filled Erdin's head with hot air?"
Robon understood at once. Hot air? So the head of House Lobel still didn't even regard Erdin as a candidate for succession.
"No. That has nothing to do with me."
"Erdin said we should cooperate with the Blædwins."
"Wise of him. As you saw earlier, Lobel can no longer keep pace with Blædwin technology."
"Robon!"
Erdin looked startled, and Alfred's expression gradually hardened. Robon didn't care. It was plain fact. He was only making sure they recognized it.
"Arrogant."
"Not arrogance—confidence."
Alfred's face shifted in a subtle way. He couldn't refute it. The cultivator alone had already cut deep into them. Not a drizzle soaking clothes little by little—no. A cloudburst had drenched them to the bone. From now on, they would be a body that couldn't live without Blædwin technology.
"You may go."
"Yes."
Outside, Erdin grumbled about why Robon had done that, but Robon brushed it off lightly. Bringing the cultivator had finished his part of the work.
"Building influence in this family from here on is your job."
"After you just snubbed my father like that?"
"It wasn't a snub."
Robon had seen the look Alfred gave Erdin at the end. That was not the gaze of a man with no expectations left.
Do as you like.
Whatever Alfred was thinking, Robon didn't need to worry about that. Still, having agreed to be an ally, he would offer the help they needed from each other.
"If you need more help, say so."
"R…ight."
Leaving the burdened Erdin behind, Robon departed the Blue Field territory once more with Wendy.
"Where were you?"
"I was watching the knights fight earlier."
"Huh? The knights were fighting?"
"Yeah, punching and thrashing each other with bare fists. Hehe."
If something that fun was going on, she should have called him too. When would he get another chance to watch knights brawl bare-handed?
Forget it. Time to get back to work.
He still had three more cultivators to build, and the electrical supply facilities were nearly ready—his to-do list remained a mountain.
Arnold, who had traded bare-knuckle blows with Gast, still seethed with unresolved rage.
"You betray me, crawl over to Erdin, and then what? 'You can't beat the Blædwins with that level of skill'?"
Gast's face was thoroughly smashed. He staggered upright.
"I realized I was a frog in a well the moment I saw Robon Blædwin. You'll realize it soon enough too."
"A side-branch nobody… You arrogant little—"
Shiiing—!
Unable to contain his fury, Arnold finally drew his sword. All their agreement to settle things fairly with bare fists meant nothing as he raised the blade, intent on severing one of Gast's limbs.
"Your legs are too free, so you wander off, see strange things, and come back spouting nonsense. I'll treat you myself."
In that instant, Sernia—who had been watching the fight—drew her sword like lightning and caught Arnold's blade.
"You crazy bastard. You've finally lost your mind."
Erdin, arriving late at the sound of the commotion, charged in and drove a fist into Arnold's face. Bleeding and staggering back, Arnold glared as if he meant to kill him.
"Kh… You son of a bitch!"
"You lost the bet, so shut up and get lost. Didn't you agree not to talk back to me anymore?"
Veins bulged purple across Arnold's face. But as the uproar grew and people began to gather, he sheathed his sword and turned away.
"I'll kill you myself, Erdin."
"Try it while you still have an appetite."
Erdin checked Gast's condition.
"You all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just took a few hits."
"Good. Go get treated. Sir Sernia, look after Gast."
"Understood."
Watching Gast limp away injured, Erdin made a vow. One way or another, he would become the head of House Lobel. And to that end, he would offer Robon Blædwin even his soul if he had to.
A week passed after the return from Lobel territory.
"Yes! Finally finished!"
With the high-temperature reduction furnace made of tungsten complete, and with Andersen's magical ability improving, the rate at which they extracted tungsten soared. Hundreds of light bulbs were produced that way. Lighting was installed first at RMEL, then throughout the buildings of Blædwin Castle, and finally in the pilot zone of Iron Hall. Because the wiring had been laid in advance, the remaining work finished in a smooth rush.
Click.
The massive chandelier on the ceiling of the Blædwin manor's first-floor lobby—tiny bulbs set into it—poured out light and flooded the interior with brilliance.
"Wow!!"
"How beautiful…"
Retainers and family alike marveled at the brightness, so clearly different from before.
"So simply pressing this button keeps the lights on indefinitely?"
"Yes, Mother. That's right."
Previously, bulbs that lasted only a few hours had been too much of a hassle to replace constantly, so they had used them only in the most essential spots. Now light filled the entire building.
"My, to be this bright even at night…"
"It's… it's wonderful, Young Master."
"I bet no one else lives in a manor like this! When people from other houses visit, they're going to be stunned!"
Rachel piled praise on praise. Once light was properly supplied, the household's reaction was nothing short of explosive.
"Injuries among the maids from walking the manor at night have all but disappeared. The cooks no longer strain their eyes cooking in the evening, so accidents are down as well. Overall, everyone is extremely pleased."
Chief butler Lefrey finished his report to the father with the whole family gathered. It was early morning; sunlight streamed in through the windows, yet the bulbs set into the ceiling still shone bright.
"Robon, well done. At this coming-of-age ceremony, people from every house will sing your praises."
It was the first time his father had spoken so highly of him. That alone measured the shock they had received. The ability to turn a room's lights on and off with nothing but a switch was, to them, nothing less than a revolution.
"Look over there, Robon. At the servants' faces. Aren't they all completely different from only a few days ago?"
"They are."
The joy and sense of security that light brought had effects beyond anything he had expected—so large that he almost dreaded the reactions of the people who would visit from now on.
"Wendy. Are you ready for the ceremony?"
"Of course! Do you know how long I've been waiting for that day? Hehe."
Saying so, Wendy looked at him. Meeting those mischief-bright eyes made him want to scrub the promise he had made clean out of his memory.
She wouldn't actually cause trouble… right?
A sudden ominous premonition crawled up his spine and stabbed into his brain.
Just… his imagination. Surely.