I awaken, greeted by a sea of agony coursing through my back with an unbearable intensity. With effort, I rise gradually, embarking on a desperate endeavor to alleviate the discomfort.
The clock on the wall reveals the early hour of 4 a.m., an uncommon time to rouse from slumber.
I depart from my resting place, melancholically observing the solitude that envelops everything around me.
The army's duties will not commence until 5 a.m., prompting me to head toward the shower to invigorate my weary body.
I must meet with Beatrice today, as I pledged to attend during the night, but alas, I succumbed to a profound slumber.
In a previous moment, I proposed connecting this area with our library through magical crystals. However, she elucidated that we require an exceptionally high-quality pyroxene crystal to undertake such a venture.
Hence, I requested one from Roswaal, and it now patiently rests on a table in my room within the mansion. Though time pressed us then, preventing its completion, now may be the opportune moment to make it a reality.
I cannot help but be captivated by Yin magic; I deem it an exceptionally versatile form of magic suitable for both combat and other applications. It does not lag behind any other existing magical discipline.
I even dared to dream of owning a magical item known as a "dimensional pocket," much like those described in certain tales.
However, Beatrice dashed my hopes by explaining that not only does it necessitate a substantial amount of mana to maintain such spaces, but I also lack the necessary skills to bring it to fruition at present.
Yet, I will not readily surrender. If there's one lesson I've learned, it's that I must fully harness the inherent potential of magic, for it exists for a reason.
Finally, I arrive at the grand mansion, and upon opening the main doors, I am instantaneously transported to the lost library.
Ordinarily, I would be greeted by the intoxicating scent of ancient paper and leather-bound books. But now, all that meets my gaze is an expansive, vacant expanse.
The once-packed bookshelves have given way to numerous meticulously drawn blueprints spread across numerous desks.
Beatrice's chamber lies in a dim corner, with only a few remaining shelves housing the books I've penned about my magical world, as well as those that Beatrice has graced with her talent.
My phone's battery level rests at fifty percent, signifying there's still much work ahead, and it falls upon Beatrice to transcribe these writings.
Fortunately, owing to my academic pursuits, I've amassed a diverse collection of scholarly texts. Yet, I ardently yearn to have volumes on agriculture or metallurgy readily at hand to enrich our literary assembly.
Regrettably, not everything can be acquired so effortlessly.
As I gaze upon Beatrice's incensed expression and her endearing pouting as she approaches, I allow myself a mischievous smile, intending to tease her lightly.
"Your sense of order leaves much to be desired," I jest.
"Hmpf!" she grumbles, turning her back to me in a gesture of displeasure.
In the face of her reaction, I decide to offer my assistance in bringing a semblance of order to this shared chaotic space.
"Let me help you," I kindly propose.
Under my guidance and direction, we begin meticulously organizing every item present. Sturdy shelves are set up, with architectural blueprints adorning the surrounding walls.
The standalone shelves have been removed to grant us more space in this sacred chamber, now functioning as our laboratory and home for both Beatrice and me.
"It's incredible how the forbidden library has taken shape," I comment with amazement as I observe the progress made.
My eyes delight in seeing everything finding its place. I even move a bedside table from my room to Beatrice's.
A round table with four chairs. It will be a cozy nook for sharing moments of relaxation, enjoying a good cup of tea, chatting, and savoring life.
The desks are positioned beside the imposing bookshelves that safeguard the precious blueprints and books we hold dear.
The need to acquire more volumes becomes evident, with the aim of enriching our personalized collection in this sacred part of our abode.
I gaze with contentment at the achievement thus far, marveling at the very fact that we've transformed the once-called "forbidden library" into an engineering laboratory.
Beatrice, taking my hand in her small yet powerful hands, contemplates our joint effort and slightly tightens her grip to convey assurance and determination. Then she extends her hand forward with a commanding gesture, as if challenging the entire world.
"This is no longer the lost library I suppose," Beatrice counters with a confident smile. "It is now our sanctuary of knowledge and ingenuity. An engineering laboratory, in fact."
I recall how all the magical tomes penned by Echidna vanished when Beatrice severed her contract with her.
Initially, I felt anger and sorrow in the face of such irreplaceable loss, but I was compelled to accept it and move forward, leaving the past behind.
Fortunately, I managed to peruse a few of those literary treasures, and Beatrice devoted her free time to transcribing texts on metaphysics to aid my understanding.
Thankfully, her valuable transcriptions remained untouched.
It was the ingenious mechanism Echidna devised in case of a calamity: if someone attempted to harm Beatrice or if she chose to defy her mother's designs.
That revelation plunged Beatrice into profound sadness for a few days, but she eventually found the serenity to press on.
Observing her smile now, a feeling of joy engulfs me, and my heart brims with warmth, taking absolute control of my actions.
I cradle her in my arms gently, and though she initially displays some surprise and uses her hands to resist, I know that if she genuinely wanted to pull away, she would have done so already.
I lift her face toward mine, establishing direct eye contact as I offer a sincere smile. These small yet truly rewarding moments deeply connect us.
"Good morning, Beatrice," I say, gazing at her with tenderness as she returns my look, narrowing her eyes playfully.
Over time, I have observed how Beatrice has gradually unshackled herself from the emotional chains of the past.
Her transformation not only affects our intimate relationship but also positively influences those close to us, like Emilia, who occasionally joins us while studying, fostering an atmosphere of harmony and camaraderie in our sacred haven.
I wish she had company her age, but Petra is not at the mansion. She happily resides with her parents, pursuing studies and receiving tailored training according to her talents.
"Don't call me that, I suppose," Beatrice grumbles, placing her delicate hands on my cheeks. With a shy smile and a blush on her face, she adds, "Call me Betty, actually."
A slight stutter accompanies her request. Undoubtedly, Beatrice is someone removed from all of this.
I wish I could always bring her happiness.
"Who would've thought my princess could be so tender," I smile, causing her to blush. "Betty."
Perhaps my treatment of her has influenced this change in Beatrice; however, I see it as something wonderfully rewarding amid the prevailing chaos. It is a balm for my weary spirit, allowing me to move forward with renewed vigor.
She nods timidly but cannot conceal the radiant smile gracing her countenance.
"I am your Betty... indeed," she asserts before gently extricating herself from my embrace and heading towards the desk where the blueprints for our next project lie.
I sigh with gratitude for this unique situation, attempting to contain the overwhelming emotions threatening to overwhelm me. We must toil diligently until we secure stability; time is of the essence, and I know she is well aware of it.
In the capital, I hope to take her on a leisurely stroll.
I make my way to the desk, observing how it has progressed compared to a few days ago.
There is a project of paramount importance: the enhancement of ingot production. Presently, throughout Lugunica, a rudimentary method is employed for their manufacture; however, I have resolved to harness steam power to transform it into an improved tool.
The only thought that comes to mind is something I learned during my university days.
Puddling is a process for producing wrought iron that was conducted during the Middle Ages and the dawn of the modern era. It entailed heating iron ore in a special furnace known as a puddling furnace, along with fuels like charcoal.
As it heated, the iron melted and oxidized, ridding it of impurities such as carbon and sulfur.
Clearly, there are aspects to be refined; it is unnecessary to replicate it exactly as we know it.
We will employ magic to replace several elements that hinder its efficiency. The steam engine will be responsible for moving the materials, thus simplifying the entire process.
This means we will be the first to produce high-quality iron, free from the numerous imperfections caused by current methods, which generate a plethora of byproducts detrimental to its efficiency.
The ancient puddling method allowed for mass production of iron of unprecedented quality, becoming an invaluable contribution to the metallurgical industry of its time.
Now, our duty is to capitalize on this technique to establish a monopoly in iron production. Once it is ready, I will share this information with Crusch and my partners, who possess rich mineral deposits.
Through them, I can sell our precious iron to the market.
This achievement will grant us visibility and renown among blacksmiths, as they are entirely unaware of this innovative method. Irlam will thus become the primary producer and exporter of iron in the entire surrounding region.
It is evident that this process can also be applied to various metals, affording us ample room to expand in the near future, even to the point of producing steel independently.
"The thermal efficiency greatly improves by eliminating the use of coal," Beatrice explains, "however, the magical consumption increases exponentially due to the vast quantities required."
The inherent issue with this machine lies in the significant energy wastage it generates, but that can be compensated for thanks to magic, whose efficiency is virtually perfect, according to my calculations.
I'm not too concerned, as Roswaal possesses the largest fire lamicta mines available to us.
"We can use our reserves of lamicta," Beatrice confidently adds, "its efficiency is excellent, and it also helps avoid the generation of harmful waste."
The gases expelled by the machine are highly toxic, containing heavy metals and other harmful pollutants to the environment. With lamicta, there is no fusion with the iron. Consequently, our chamber will be filled with iron ingots infused with this precious mineral.
This way, we can avoid using an additional steam generation chamber.
The internal boiler can increase its temperature when necessary, although the only inconvenience will arise when replacing the depleted lamicta in our process.
"We can cool the boiler using water lamicta, so people can open the lid without any concern," Beatrice suggests. It would be ideal to have mana sensors that indicate when the lamicta is about to run out, avoiding complications when having to make changes mid-process.
"If we make the boiler removable, we can replace it with another once the lamicta is exhausted," I immediately reject that idea. Dealing with a detachable boiler would be extremely impractical.
It's best to place the lamicta on top to facilitate their replacement when necessary.
Unfortunately, I don't have contemporary models for iron production through this innovative method. However, the smelting process itself is not that complicated. I yearn to possess all the necessary knowledge about metal treatment and curing to create the best iron possible.
"If we add hatches and use a small mana source for activation, the operator can easily remove and replace the depleted lamicta," Beatrice suggests while carefully examining our blueprints. "This way, we would solve that problem. We can even reinforce the hatches with steel plates to prevent them from fusing due to heat."
With that, our initial preparation concludes. I've acquired specially designed steel ingots for situations like these; being a metal capable of withstanding high temperatures, it will be perfect for our purpose.
Once we obtain the iron, steel production will be within our grasp. Steel is a relatively simple metal to manufacture, ironically, in this region, only the Lugunica blacksmith's house has a monopoly on its production, and they are limited to creating scarce products by order.
What faces they will make when they see us producing it on an industrial scale!
"You have a malevolent expression right now, indeed," Beatrice observes, her penetrating magical eyes fixed on me.
"It's amusing to see the arrogant fall," I respond confidently as I sign the blueprints, signaling their readiness for production. With that matter resolved, the next step is to find a way to utilize the metias for communication.
"Have you found a way to clone them?" I inquire, watching as Beatrice brings a book on gravitational magic, which appears to be an encyclopedia of metias. We have a total of six devices, although one is damaged, leaving us with five.
At this moment, being able to reproduce these devices is crucial as they provide a strategic advantage in terms of communication.
She points to a specific page in the book, and I begin to read carefully. "In the entire universe, there exists only one metia capable of cloning objects, but its whereabouts are unknown." I had thought that having a metia in our hands would simply be a matter of discovering its internal spell.
However, it seems that metias come with some kind of magical block incorporated at the end of their construction.
According to Beatrice, this block comes from the original creator, and if it is not properly removed, it could render the metia completely useless. We only have five functional units at the moment, and I am not willing to risk damaging them irreparably.
"It's likely that the only metia capable of performing clones is currently in the possession of the cult," I sigh in defeat at this revelation. "I had hoped to be able to achieve this. At least we know that our protective device works perfectly."
This development has been implemented for the next delivery of the armament batch currently in production, and it has also been incorporated into the steam machines.
Beatrice and I have created a metia capable of recognizing the user, although it actually requires the person to use mana directly on the weapon. By using mana, the device will open only for that person.
Beatrice explains that this mechanism is similar to that of the library; now, it's our workshop.
"The reason people find the entrance to the workshop is because I give them permission to do so, either consciously or unconsciously," Beatrice explains with a profound look. "It's somewhat like this: through a spell, we allow that person's mana to enter the weapon, which allows them to disarm it easily.
In case someone else tries to disarm the weapon without authorization, it contains lamicta crystals charged with fire that will explode instantly. The weapon will be completely destroyed and rendered unusable. So far, this is the best preventive measure we have."
"It will also be useful when we need to make identifications," I confess, as I ponder all the tasks that await us in the future.
Gathering researchers from different parts of the world to utilize them in production, create new armaments, and possibly enhance our factories for specialization. If each sector produces batches of a specific element, we will swiftly advance toward our objectives. For that, I will need more personnel.
The spinning machine was a recent addition, but we are still constructing the corresponding factory; therefore, it won't be available at this time. "So, for the next step, we must design the typewriter.
I don't know why I've taken so long to think of it, but I'm truly tired of writing by hand. Yes, I can temporarily halt the production of a self-sufficient fabric factory. In fact, I believe the typewriter will be a revolution.
The only problem is that the blueprints I have are incomplete.
"We must finalize the mechanisms. It's not actually that complicated; the real challenge lies in finding a viable solution for ink injection," I add as I take my watch out of my pocket. "I sincerely hope it's as incredible as you say," Beatrice mutters as she searches for the blueprints among her belongings.
Roswaal should arrive very soon; that's mainly the reason I haven't left this mansion yet. Beatrice and I spent some time reflecting on how to properly complete the blueprints. The main obstacle is the language of this world.
I'm not sure whether we should use Ro—glyphs or I—glyphs to write it. The choice should be the most time-efficient and writing-friendly, as well as accessible for children to learn.
"Although we can use I—glyphs, I think it would be better to opt for Ro—glyphs. With I—glyphs, there might be issues when trying to express complex words or use new names and creations," Beatrice argues reasonably.
Beatrice is entirely right. The problem with I—glyphs is that, while they are simpler, they become complicated when dealing with complex words or technical terms. Ro—glyphs, covering the entire alphabet, offer greater versatility and practicality in their use.
"Then it shall be Ro—glyphs," I respond. Even though the spoken language in this place is Japanese, it's certainly not as complex when one is already familiar with it.
The true challenge of Japanese lies in the kanji characters, but here, that obstacle doesn't exist, confirming that Ro—glyphs are the most suitable choice. However, the sudden change in Beatrice's expression brings forth unpleasant memories that flood my mind.
A shiver courses down my spine as she confidently remarks:
"Roswaal has arrived."