Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Capital Chariot Race
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'Footless Horse' was receiving additional investment for the chariot race tournament.
That rumor spread like wildfire through the merchant guilds.
"Heard the news?"
"'Footless Horse'? Challenging for back-to-back wins... even if they pull it off, it'll only be half a success..."
"Right? What's their angle?"
Fame from winning the tournament had its limits.
Winning twice didn't automatically double your renown.
So the news of 'Footless Horse's' massive investment drive planted seeds of doubt among the merchants.
A workshop of that scale wouldn't make irrational decisions.
"Maybe... there's something to it?"
"Something like what?"
"Like they're hiding some groundbreaking new tech."
"Hmm... if that's the case, we should keep an eye on them."
And so, 'Footless Horse's' investment recruitment drew attention from merchants and nobles alike.
Of course, not everyone was taking it in stride.
"What the hell! Why are they suddenly pouring in more money?!"
"If this pushes us out of contention..."
For the chariot workshops that had poured in every last coin they had, this was an emergency alert.
They'd strategized assuming this year's event would be a 'weak field,' but now their plans were unraveling.
They couldn't just write it off and try harder next year.
That would shatter the already scarce trust of their investors.
"Damn it, we have to do something now."
"Work the crew harder! Overtime, everyone!"
Thus, this year's capital chariot race was shaping up to be the most fiercely contested in history.
The capital's nobles were starting to take notice of the unprecedented high stakes.
But at the center of the frenzy, 'Footless Horse' workshop master Gerrick was tossing and turning with headaches.
That day he'd insulted the mage, he'd envisioned a head-on clash.
But now that his anger had cooled, his thinking had shifted.
"No need for a direct confrontation."
Gerrick summoned one of the drivers participating in the race.
He spoke to the driver.
"The first corner. Got it?"
Gerrick lowered his voice.
"Crashing right at the start would be too obvious. Fake going for the inside line at the first corner, then slam into Tobin's chariot and take you both out. Make it look like an accident."
"...Understood."
The driver pocketed a heavy coin purse in exchange for abandoning his professional ethics.
The day of the showdown.
The hill overlooking the racecourse was packed with seating for nobles and merchants.
I'd carved out some rare free time and settled in with Anna.
Experiencing a massive event like this firsthand would be good for her.
"Whoa... so many people."
As Anna said, there wasn't even standing room left in the stands.
Was it always this big an event?
It was almost disorienting.
Sure enough, nobles who recognized my face swarmed over like bees.
"Oh, Lord Uphills! I thought you'd left with Her Highness the Princess, but you're still in the capital."
"Hahaha..."
"Saw 'Uphills Workshop' on the entrant list and figured it couldn't be. Uhahaha."
"Ahahaha..."
Come to think of it, I'd registered the team under my estate.
Tobin's stubbornness was to blame.
A few days ago, he'd shown up with the completed suspension and declared,
-'This isn't just my work alone. So let's change the workshop name.'
-'Huh? To what?'
-'Uphills Workshop.'
I'd told him it wasn't necessary, but Tobin wouldn't budge.
-'My disciple's surname is Uphills anyway. You gonna deny him that? Are you looking down on my student?!'
...Pushing back further would've just made me the bad guy, so I'd relented.
The moment I agreed, Tobin had grinned slyly.
Should I not have given permission?
Anyway, I was sweating through the nobles' onslaught when,
"Waaah. Bro, my head hurts. Let's go home!"
Anna suddenly started whining and tugged at my sleeve.
What? Altitude sickness?
Here, at less than 1,000 meters above sea level?
At Anna's wail, the nobles awkwardly dispersed.
Couldn't keep laughing and chatting while the kid was crying, after all.
I asked Anna,
"You okay? Headache, nausea, dizziness, anything like that?"
"Huh? Out of nowhere?"
"...What. You're not actually sick?"
Anna snapped back to normal instantly.
As if the whole thing had been an act...
"Oh, that?"
Anna wiped away her tears—no trace of crying now—and grinned.
"You looked annoyed by the nobles."
"Whoa."
I was impressed.
"Anna, you could've made it big in theater."
"Thanks!"
The commotion died down, and we sat overlooking the track.
At the starting line, technicians and drivers were frantically doing final checks on the chariots.
Our team's driver, Duncan, was among them.
The guy who'd stood firm even in front of an orc on the way to the capital.
Connections are worth building, indeed.
Of course, we'd equipped the fastest horses available.
When else would you spend the money if not now?
If we lost because of the horses, I wouldn't have the face to look at the technicians who'd nailed my commission.
...Ah. Is this how the professor who'd landed the project felt?
Not that I miss it. joat.
Anna pointed at our chariot with her finger.
"Bro, our chariot looks totally different from the others."
It had to.
We'd widened the wheelbase for stability, stripped off all non-essential decorations per regs, leaving just the bare frame.
Ended up looking like an Earth race kart...
A bit frustrating that our wind tunnel testing matched Earth's results.
Felt like mindlessly replicating another lab's experiments.
Anna asked me,
"Why'd they make it like that?"
"You studied the laws of inertia in natural philosophy, right? Apply that."
"Ah. Got it. Whether stationary or moving inertia, it'll drop way down like that."
Oddly enough, Anna grasped my explanations quickly.
Made me oddly grateful sometimes.
Anna asked again,
"But if it's that light, won't collisions with other chariots cause huge damage?"
"No need to worry about that."
"...?"
Anna tilted her head.
I'll leave that as part of the race's fun.
-"Entrants, please line up at the starting line!"
The race was about to begin.
Scanning the crowd, I spotted the mustache guy far off.
He looked pale as a ghost, frozen stiff.
What's with the guy who said he'd prove himself through skill?
'Must be super nervous.'
I flashed him a grin and waved.
'Let's have a friendly competition.'
Gerrick was half out of his mind.
No way.
No way that punk mage was the capital's hero, Isaac Uphills.
He was dumbfounded.
What now?
If word got out that a commoner like him had crossed the Princess's man...
Prison at minimum.
But he'd already crossed the point of no return.
He'd instructed the bribed driver to wreck his chariot.
'Gotta call off the plan...'
Too late.
No way to contact the driver at the distant starting line.
Right then, Isaac Uphills waved cheerfully at him.
Terror.
Did that mean he knew everything?
Gerrick's legs gave out, and he collapsed on the spot.
"Master! What happened?!"
His men rushed over to support him, but nothing registered in Gerrick's ears.
"It's over. Everything's done for..."
"You can't collapse now! You have to watch the chariots race!"
"Yeah, whatever it is, you gotta see us take first..."
Gerrick knew it too.
Their chariot was perfect.
Probably first place.
But what good was winning like that?
They could repay the investors, sure.
But crossing the Princess's man wasn't something money could fix.
It'd be better if 'Uphills Workshop' took first.
They'd default on payments and end up on the streets, but at least lives would be spared.
'Please... heavens... just spare our lives...!'
Gerrick sincerely prayed for his own defeat.
'I'll live right from now on. Please...'
-"Entrants, please line up at the starting line!"
At the announcer's call, Duncan climbed aboard the oddly shaped chariot.
In his life as a driver, he'd never seen anything like it.
Of course, he'd verified it rolled properly. Even knew its performance was monstrous.
Made by the hero himself—how could it not be?
Heh heh.
A dry chuckle escaped Duncan's lips. Just days ago, he'd never dreamed of this.
"Me, driving for the hero."
The pinnacle of his career, redefined.
For the record, before 'Hero's Chariot Driver,' it was 'Hero and Gem Spewer.'
Just before start, a strange driver approached Duncan.
"Hey, you. Uphills Workshop driver, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Better watch your back."
"Hm?"
"...Someone's planning to ram you. Don't wanna die? Slow down at the first corner."
Duncan stared him down and asked,
"You my employer?"
"No, not that, but..."
"Then why should I listen to you?"
"..."
Duncan's sole order from Isaac:
'When the start signal sounds, charge full speed ahead without looking back.'
Of course.
He knew road conditions could flip a chariot.
A lifetime driver? He'd know.
But having experienced Isaac's magic firsthand, he knew he wouldn't die.
'The lord's got it covered.'
Duncan gripped the reins tight.
No way he'd fail a simple drive after taking the pay.
His eyes fixed solely on the track ahead.
-"Go!"
The flag dropped, and dozens of chariots kicked up dust as they surged forward.
-Waaaaaaaaah!
Through the cheers, that driver's voice rang out again.
"Slow at the first corner!"
Duncan ignored him.
'Wanna give advice? Pay up.'
He followed only Isaac's command.
Neighhh-!
Thrusting the reins forward, the racehorses bolted madly.
The chariots thundered off.
Cheers from the stands deafened the ears.
One chariot in particular overtook the pack at the start.
"What? Already gunning it like that?"
"Insane... that driver's suicidal?"
As if answering the nobles, the excited announcer shouted,
"Madness! At that speed on unpaved roads, it'll disintegrate!"
The merchant beside me fretted, and Anna gripped my sleeve tight—pretending nonchalance but tense.
Anna whispered,
"Are we gonna lose?"
We?
The 'Uphills Workshop' name must've pulled her in.
I shook my head with a smile.
Dirt roads like that? Already tested.
'Uphills' would hold.
"Nope. We're winning."
True to my word, 'Uphills' ignored the bumpy surface and barreled ahead.
The stands buzzed.
"That possible?"
"What... wheels aren't lifting off the ground?"
"Nah, even if they do, they settle right back."
"No trace of magic..."
The first sharp curve loomed.
Someone yelled desperately,
"Danger! Entering that curve at speed means flip city! Hey! Announcer! Stop that thing!"
But Duncan didn't brake.
He pulled the inside reins while letting the outside horses run free.
Screeech-!
The chariot slid sideways amid friction.
Normally, you'd abandon ship.
But Duncan shifted his center of gravity deep inside and held.
Thus, with barely reduced speed, the chariot drifted through the curve.
Good call lowering the chassis and using negative camber on the wheels.
Even the announcer's hype trailed our chariot.
Waaaaaaaaaah-!
Cheers pierced the ears.
As dust settled, only 'Uphills's' deep wheel tracks marked the corner.
Others followed seconds later.
Off-road, no-track race from here—no need to mind competitors.
Victory sealed.
Anna stomped her feet in her seat, thrilled.
Brought her for a good reason.
'But what about mustache guy...'
Not crying, is he?
I glanced his way.
Oddly, he clasped his hands, overjoyed like in prayer.
'Why's he happy?'
His goal wasn't the win?
'Well... everyone has their own targets.'
Not everyone aims for first.
Second's solid.