The Devil's Contract
"Ahem."
Marquis Pobis Licender of the Gérard Kingdom, the land of knights, arrived at the Iron Magic Tower wearing an expression thick with displeasure.
Three full days had already passed since he requested a tour. In short, Marquis Licender had been called last among the competing parties.
"Hmm. Quite mysterious."
The first thing that caught his eye upon arrival was the Giant Blast Furnace belching smoke. They had built it as one with the tower itself, dramatically cutting resource consumption and construction time—or so the claims went. A plain magic tower with a furnace stuck to its side somehow made for a surprisingly satisfying sight.
"Haaah."
Whatever the case, the fact that he had been summoned last remained unchanged. With an uncomfortable look, Marquis Licender stepped inside.
At the muggy entrance of the tower, a woman with sky-blue hair stood yawning.
Oh-ho.
Even at a glance she was a considerable beauty. Her figure was outstanding as well, and Marquis Licender found himself admiring her before he could stop himself. He also realized at once that this was the genius among geniuses who had recently joined the Iron Magic Tower.
They've at least sent someone in charge, so the Iron Magic Tower is treating us with—
"Ah. You're here."
"……?!"
Marquis Licender's eyes went round. His face said he wasn't sure what he had just heard. Lee Dam, however, simply turned her back with another yawn and nothing more.
"Follow me. I'll explain."
What insolence is this—!
The marquis's eyes flew wide, bloodshot with outrage. Yet he was an envoy here for negotiations and to gauge the situation. He forced himself to steady his breathing and keep his composure.
There's no way she'd act like this for no reason.
With a cold, clear head he began considering why Lee Dam was treating him this way. The answer was simple.
They've already decided who to contract with?
On the first day, Officer Jennifer Iba of the Boulian Republic. The next day, General Bearigal of the Exstep Alliance. And now, last of all, himself. This kind of rudeness from the Iron Magic Tower came from knowing they held the absolute upper hand. Moreover, the act of slighting the Gérard Kingdom itself suggested they had already chosen their partner.
This is dangerous.
Just what kind of offers had the earlier parties made for them to act this brazenly? Being shut out of the table before he even sat down also implied his own incompetence.
This won't be easy.
Assuming the negotiations ahead would be anything but simple, he stepped inside.
The place Lee Dam led him to was a vast laboratory on the second floor of the tower. The long interior almost resembled a museum exhibition hall, and the first thing that drew the eye was, of course, the human-sized suits of armor.
Two color schemes stood silently there—mock-ups Lee Dam had designed and built herself, modeled after a white knight and a black knight.
"White knight, Silver Lance. Black knight, Onyx Lance. I named them myself."
"Oh. The designs are quite original, aren't they?"
They looked thinner than conventional knight armor and seemed free of mobility issues. The real question, however, was whether they were practical.
Tsk. Packed full of a mage's tastes.
The designs themselves were original enough, and one could even praise them for having a sense of style. Whether they would actually be useful on a battlefield was another matter entirely.
Steel plates this thin would be punched straight through by a Viking axe or an officer's bullet.
He understood that mages liked to dress up their creations however they pleased. That was their business, playing at being immortals. His people were fighting real wars.
What we need is a supply of high-purity iron.
What he wanted was not armor made by mages, but the steel used to make it. With that alone, they could refine it the kingdom's way and produce something far more practical.
Thinking as much, the marquis followed behind Lee Dam.
"Alright, next—"
Everything she introduced after that was equally fascinating and mouthwatering material. Yes, he would admit it was impressive and original in design. But—
Practicality is what matters.
They had produced fine steel and then turned around to play children's games with it. The situation only made him sigh.
"My word! The Iron Magic Tower is truly capable in so many fields!"
Of course Marquis Licender could not let any of that show. The iron supply came first—so they could mass-produce quality weapons that could overturn the balance of the battlefield.
Before long they reached the end. The place Lee Dam brought him to was a broad table, and on it sat miniature Knight Armors of every variety.
"Oh-ho? Are these combat models? Fascinating."
Lee Dam, who had been digging in her ear, nodded and rested a hand atop them. In an instant a vast quantity of dense mana poured into the models, and the miniatures began to move.
W-what was that just now?!
Marquis Licender's mouth fell open as he stared at Lee Dam's indifferent expression. She had manifested an enormous volume of mana—enough to seize the entire space—and condensed it here in a single breath? He had heard mages were formidable, but this was a truly wondrous sight. And it did not end there.
Watching the miniatures on the table run a combat simulation against one another, his eyes went wide.
The Silver Lance she had introduced earlier cut across the battlefield. Its movement was far freer than expected, and even the way it swung its sword was clean and natural; before he knew it, Marquis Licender was completely absorbed in watching.
Silver Lance took the front line with a shield. While it held the path blocked, the Onyx Lances behind it fired the cannons mounted on their shoulders in a barrage. Silver Lance moved with a fluidity hard to imagine for something wearing armor, and every shell the Onyx Lances loosed struck the enemy positions, shattering the balance of the field.
"Ha, hahaha! Well now! I hardly know what to say! It was like watching a play!"
Yes. He would honestly admit it. It was impressive. The technical skill was far too detailed to dismiss as mere children's toys. Sweating freely, Marquis Licender spoke with frankness.
"But, Mage? This is nothing more than a prepared script, is it not?"
"……."
"Several points look impossible with current technology. In particular, the white knights' fluid movements would be impossible while wearing armor, and—"
"As for the black knights' gun barrels, no individual could produce that kind of firepower. You know as well as I do—we are not mages."
Marquis Licender finally steeled himself. Right now the Iron Magic Tower was placing excessive faith in its own technology.
How much hot air did those earlier bastards blow—!
Whatever flattery the sycophants had offered, the marquis decided to take the opposite approach.
Wake them up to reality! That way we can appeal with our sincerity!
Mages were people who found pleasure in progress and growth. Even if it was unpleasant in the moment, looking further ahead they would surely judge his side the more rational and worthwhile partner to work with.
"Overall I believe it's an excellent direction, but until it can be commercialized—"
"Heh."
The corner of Lee Dam's mouth curled up. At some point she was holding a right arm in her hand—more precisely, the right arm of a suit of armor, a single piece running from fingertips to shoulder.
"Try it on."
Marquis Licender felt a strange chill. He slipped the sleek right arm she offered over his own and moved it this way and that.
"O-ohhh……."
It was far freer to move than he had imagined. The joints used ring mail and flexed smoothly.
"I-impressive, isn't it?"
"Made of high-purity steel with no impurities, so it's much lighter and the defense is solid too."
Clang!
"Hup?!"
Lee Dam brought a sword and swung it without warning. Marquis Licender startled, but the armor encasing his arm deflected the blow with almost casual ease.
"Ohh?!"
"This is one of the swords you people use, right?"
"Th-that's correct!"
It was an iron sword commonly issued to soldiers. Even after she had struck the unprepared marquis with it, there was not a single serious mark.
"Alright, and this."
Next Lee Dam brought over a tube as thick as a sturdy man's forearm. The moment she fed mana into it, a thermal beam shot out and punched a hole clean through one wall of the laboratory. Looking closer, there were already two more holes beside it; it was not hard to guess how they had gotten there.
"This is thermal-line magic we demanded from the Fire Magic Tower in exchange for supplying them some of our iron. Right now it still takes a fair amount of mana, but we're researching so we can fire it with only a small amount. More support means we can develop it faster."
"By that you mean—"
"Not hard to imagine, is it?"
Grinning, Lee Dam jerked her chin back toward the table. There the miniatures stood frozen with both hands raised in victory on the battlefield.
"Ah……."
Only then did Marquis Licender understand why she had poured such a vast quantity of mana into that mock battle. She had shown it with his own eyes in place of the envoys' meager imaginations.
The balance of the battlefield would change like this—and at the center of it would stand the Iron Magic Tower.
Knights whose skill was halved by the weight and bulk of their armor. With armor like the piece on his arm, they would be able to bring their full ability to bear. And the knights' weakness in ranged combat could be covered as well. Each individual would become a soldier capable of long-range bombardment.
"I've shown you everything I was going to show."
Wearing a smile like a snake's, Lee Dam folded her arms.
"If you want a contract, you'll have to show some sincerity."
Gulp.
Marquis Licender swallowed. His pupils trembled. She had not been rude because a contract was already sealed. On the contrary—she was that confident in their ability. She knew they held the absolute upper hand, and that was why she could act so boldly.
This isn't simply a matter of making good iron.
The reason he had thought it all empty fantasy was that they had been looking further across the battlefield than anyone. In truth, the Iron Magic Tower was already ahead of the three nations when it came to war. The marquis had no choice but to admit it.
The mage before him was no longer a woman merely playing at immortal games. She was a prophet. A visionary pointing toward the future's direction.
"When I look at the contract,"
In the old tales, a contract with a devil was dangerous precisely because it was so sweet.
"Ah, these bastards are gonna be flat on their faces licking our toes—"
The voice and scent of the woman before him were truly sweet. But—
"—that's the kind of terms it needs to make me think."
The words she spoke were those of a devil.