Coming of Age Ceremony (4)
While the crowd stared at the bike in open admiration, Wendy grabbed the hem of her dress without a second’s hesitation.
“I can’t take it anymore!”
In the same instant, a sharp gleam of steel flashed from her barely exposed thigh—the edge of a dagger.
With a soft ssshhk, the long, ornate silk train of her gown fluttered free and dropped to the floor.
The guests recoiled in startled gasps, but Wendy only smiled in pure satisfaction, utterly indifferent to the stares fixed on her.
In the blink of an eye her gown had become something short, simple, and built for movement—hemmed well above the knee.
“I’ll put it to good use, Auntie!”
Still wearing the armor gifted by Vulcan and the gloves she had just received, she swung herself onto the bike.
A smooth silver vest, blue light tracing its surface. She pulled free her hair ribbon, letting her blue tresses spill over the vest and frame her face—every inch of her femininity on full display.
Vroom!
The rough, sharp-edged RB 300 merged with her beauty into something wild and feminine all at once, a presence no one had ever seen before.
“Whoa…”
“Wendy Blædwin had this kind of beauty in her?”
“She was always lovely, but this… Ha. It wouldn’t be strange if every man here fell for her on the spot.”
Female knights existed, of course—but never a knight like this. Most women who took up the sword did everything they could to erase their femininity in order to be taken seriously. Wendy Blædwin in this moment was the opposite.
The elegant remnants of a dress, the rugged armored vest, the sleek yet solid bike—the combination was magnetic. Every eye in the courtyard stayed locked on her true charm, unable to look away.
“Oh my. That girl is really…!”
The demure image Marie Blædwin had so carefully cultivated for her daughter vanished in an instant. The matriarch let out a long sigh.
Yet contrary to her fears, not a single guest frowned at Wendy’s outburst.
“My dear, you needn’t worry so much.”
At Ted’s words Marie finally looked around. Every noble present wore the same dazed, enchanted expression.
“Not every young lady can be the same. Each of them carries her own kind of beauty.”
Marie had no choice but to nod. She had been wrong. As a mother she had fretted that Wendy’s tomboyish, headstrong ways would make her a laughingstock among the nobility…
“That was my mistake.”
A smile returned to her face. She decided, then and there, to simply enjoy the moment for what it was.
“Can I ride it right now?”
“Of course.”
Robon felt the same. Hadn’t he given Wendy this bike precisely because he expected a scene like this?
And his prediction had landed perfectly.
“Go as hard as you want.”
Everyone wanted to see Wendy tear across the grounds on the RB 300.
“How does it work?”
“Put your foot here and twist the throttle.”
“Hehe. I’m already shaking.”
Wendy gripped one handlebar and set her foot on the peg. The motion looked so natural that the crowd’s anticipation climbed even higher.
Black and silver in perfect balance, blue radiance flowing along its lines—the enduro motorcycle RB 300. Its sleek body held both the hardness of metal and the precision of art. Mounted on it, Wendy looked for all the world like a knight in armor astride a steed.
The moment her foot touched the peg, the mana engine flared with fierce light. Wendy gave the throttle a light twist.
Bwaaaaaaang!!
The roar announced the bike’s presence as it surged forward. Wind whipped around her; blue hair streamed behind her. Wendy glanced back over her shoulder and smiled—half confidence, half mischief, utterly captivating. The nobles lost their words.
Men and women alike. No—if anything, the women seemed even more fired up. The sight shattered every convention they knew.
It wasn’t because Wendy was a knight. Anyone could ride a motorcycle. That fierce, dazzling image lit a hot spark in the chests of young ladies who had spent their lives cooped up in proper noble households, expected only to be demure.
…This is starting to feel dangerous.
Robon sensed something veering off course. Evening chill had already settled in, yet the heat around him only seemed to climb.
He gulped, glancing about as he prepared to slip away quietly—only for Wendy, who had just completed a lap of the banquet grounds, to skid to a stop right in front of him.
“Brother, you’re the best!!”
She hopped off the bike and threw her arms around him.
“This is the greatest gift of my entire life!!”
Robon could only give an awkward smile.
Once the gift presentations ended, the banquet proper continued.
Lanterns and mana lights blended with the moonlight, bathing the entire grounds in brilliance and making the night even more lavish.
Under ordinary circumstances the gathering would have wound down well before midnight. Tonight, the atmosphere showed no sign of cooling.
This is a side effect I never saw coming.
The dazzling lights combined with the sheer cool of that enduro bike had hit like a one-two punch. To the nobles visiting the Blædwin estate for the first time, it must have felt like another world entirely.
And that wonder became the fuse that made them all start pestering me.
“The RB 300? Magnificent piece of work.”
Grand Duke Albin approached, flashing a set of perfect white teeth.
“You’re too kind, Your Grace.”
“I’ve been thinking the Black Terahole is a bit large and inconvenient for getting around the city center.”
Exactly as expected. There was no way Grand Duke Albin would see that machine and stay quiet.
“The RB 300 is basically a lower-tier version of a proper automobile. It’s not particularly safe, and it lacks power. I only built something like that because she’s my little sister. If I’d been making a gift for Your Grace, I never would have stopped there!”
I launched into the prepared spiel with exaggerated flair and waited for his reaction.
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. His brow twitched… Damn. Failure.
“For a ‘lower-tier version,’ it has a charm all its own. If it’s that easy to make, how about building one for me as well? Hahaha! You’re aware I pour a fortune into RMEL every year, yes?”
“…Of course! Hahahaha. Just give me a little time. I’ll make something even better for Your Grace.”
“Good man. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Grand Duke Albin’s expression brightened. He clinked glasses with me and walked away. I sighed the moment his back was turned. Damn it. As if I didn’t already have enough on my plate.
At least he hadn’t demanded an entire motorcycle corps for the principality’s knights. Silver linings.
The moment my talk with the Grand Duke ended, the nobles who had been hanging back sensing the mood swarmed in.
“Ahem. We exchanged greetings earlier, but after seeing that RB 300 just now I simply couldn’t restrain myself. I had to come again.”
Count Röntgen, lord of Fortress Windsor—which blocked the northern pass through the Valces Mountains and the road into the northern continent—had sought me out once more.
“Hahaha, I can understand that.”
“How did you even think to create such a thing? Truly, the shock of seeing it—”
“There you are, Lord Robon Blædwin!”
Another noble cut in—Viscount Marco, the same man who had presented Wendy with the leather gloves earlier.
“I was too flustered earlier to introduce myself properly. I am Viscount Marco of the Roseil family. I have taken over leadership of the house from my father in order to—”
“Ahem! It seems the Roseil family has no sense of commercial etiquette.”
Count Röntgen made no effort to hide his displeasure, his face twisting.
“Ah! Count Röntgen, you’re here as well. My apologies—I wasn’t thinking.”
An awkward tension settled between the two men. What was this about?
“Do the two of you already know each other?”
“Roseil and Armoa are close neighbors, so we get along quite well. Hahaha!”
Despite Viscount Marco’s words, Count Röntgen’s expression remained distinctly sour.
Hmm… I could roughly guess. Something like the relationship between Blædwin and Lobel, perhaps?
Even so, for a mere viscount to cut in so rudely in front of a count… As someone raised in a culture that prized courtesy, I found it unacceptable.
“Count Röntgen doesn’t look as though he agrees. And even if he did, barging into a conversation with a count like this strikes me as rather rude, Sir Marco.”
Marco’s startled eyes darted about. His face flushed crimson as he sucked in a useless breath.
“Ahem. It seems I made a mistake. I’ll take my leave for a moment, then.”
Once Marco withdrew, Count Röntgen’s expression smoothed out.
“There was no need to put him in his place quite so hard. Haha.”
“Still, that simply won’t do. I happen to place a great deal of importance on proper manners.”
It wasn’t because Marco had been eyeing Wendy. Honestly.
“As expected, rumors can’t be trusted. Who in the world pinned the label of ‘good-for-nothing’ on a man like you?”
“Right? Hahaha…”
“There was a time I studied with everything I had for the sake of others as well. I’ve given it up now, of course.”
“Why did you stop?”
“I suffer from rather severe obsessiveness. Once I start researching something, I lock myself in the laboratory like a madman hunting for its true principles. Ordinary life becomes impossible.”
That was a genuine surprise. Nothing about his outward appearance suggested it. Hearing he was the commander of Windsor, I had pictured a typical military officer.
“Seeing you now feels exactly like looking at my younger self. That’s why you feel so familiar.”
Suddenly he felt familiar to me as well.
“I feel the same way.”
“Have you heard of Windsor?”
“Yes. A place with a long tradition, from what I understand. It’s protected the Mardan Principality from outside enemies for generations. I truly respect the Armoa soldiers who hold that harsh frontier.”
My flattery earned a broad, delighted laugh from Count Röntgen.
“Hahahahaha! Truly, the more I see of you the more I like you. You must visit Windsor someday. I’ll give you a proper welcome.”
“I will. I’ll make a point of it.”
“And if you ever need help with anything, don’t hesitate to say so.”
“Yes.”
The moment Count Röntgen stepped away, other nobles edged closer, gauging my mood. They had clearly been hesitant after watching me dress Marco down.
I received every one of them with a smile. Everyone except Viscount Marco.
“Lady Wendy is truly beautiful. You two seem extraordinarily close—am I right?”
“Is that really any of Viscount Marco’s business?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m a bit tired.”
I left the flustered Marco behind and walked out of the banquet hall.
At this point it was hard to tell whether I or Wendy was the true star of the evening. The impact she had made earlier meant even more nobles were clustering around her than before—yet just as many were still flocking to me.
I had done my part.
I was just about to get some rest when Elin Lahen appeared in front of me. Had this woman been tailing me? What now?
“I thought we were finished talking.”
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“Fine, whatever. Just go. I’m tired.”
I brushed past her. Her voice followed from behind.
“I’ll help you catch the demon worshippers in Lahen.”
“Do what you want.”
I no longer cared. Whether Lahen helped or not was irrelevant.
Right now I just wanted to rest.
The next day arrived.
Robon clutched his throbbing head and headed for the laboratory.
Siena and Sophia were already seated at the wooden table.
“Hey! Where did you disappear to last night?”
“I was exhausted, so I went to bed early.”
“But everyone was looking for you so hard…”
“Siena, dealing with nobles at a banquet is exhausting work. You did well, Robon.”
“But why are you here, Auntie?”
Sophia rested her elbows on the table, laced her fingers, and propped her chin on them.
“What do you think about mass-producing those with Vulcan?”
“The enduro bikes?”
“Yes, those.”
She was completely serious. She had been wrestling with a problem lately, and the moment she saw Robon’s invention the solution had fallen into place.
She glanced around, then lowered her voice to a whisper.
“Truth is, His Grace is planning a massive land-development project.”
“What? Why?”
“Because of the Black Terahole.”
A bitter smile touched Sophia’s lips.
“He intends to lay properly maintained roads across the entire principality.”
“Really? That would cost an absolute fortune…”
“Exactly. Which means he needs something that can recoup that investment.”
Even as she spoke, her head clearly ached; she pressed her temples hard with her fingers.
Robon understood at once what his aunt was worrying about.
“Building the bikes isn’t exactly easy either.”
“I know. It’s not simple. But compared to an automobile, the cost and time required should be less than a quarter. And the ones you built are for mountain use, right? Am I correct?”
Sophia’s eye for detail was sharp. She had spent ages studying the Black Terahole, the Black Terahole R1, the Brutal Force, and every other vehicle, analyzing their differences and the intent behind each design.
“You don’t need high-end tech like independent suspension. The wheels don’t have to be huge. The power doesn’t need to be that strong either—not once we have flat roads.”
“And after cutting all those corners and building bikes in bulk… what do you plan to do with them?”
“A transport business.”
“Transport?”
“Yes. You saw it this time, didn’t you? Nobles from every region flooding in and exchanging news they hadn’t heard in months. Some people go years without learning what’s happening—even in neighboring territories.”
“You’re saying you’d build a communications network with the bikes?”
She snapped her thumb and forefinger together.
“Exactly! Once the roads are down and you factor in the bikes’ speed, distances that currently take ten days could be covered in a few hours.”
That surprised him a little. He hadn’t expected the principality and Vulcan to arrive at the idea first.
“If it succeeds, the entire principality’s rate of development will skyrocket. People’s inconvenience will drop dramatically, and it won’t even require that much manpower.”
“And you’d receive an official commission from the principality?”
“That’s right. Which means money flows in naturally and the principality’s coffers grow as well, doesn’t it?”
It was a good idea. With his current resources it was a plan he could only dream of implementing himself. If someone else did it for him, he could only be grateful.
Except for one thing.
“The reason you’re telling me all this is… the mana fuel, isn’t it?”
“Yes… No matter how much we charge for transport, the cost of mana fuel is simply too high. At this rate we’d either run a deficit or break even at best.”
“And it would become a luxury reserved only for wealthy nobles.”
“Exactly. So about that…”
She lifted her gaze. Black lines cut across the sky above them.
“Couldn’t we do something with that electricity?”