The Road to Carriage*2
Originally, I’d thought livestock for meat had to be a long-term thing—something you couldn’t really get into casually.
But when it came to dairy cattle—or in this world’s case, milk Mewmyas—I started thinking it might actually be a pretty good idea.
So, off I went straight to Edele-san’s place. After explaining everything, she said, “Alright, let’s try raising some. There’s that overgrown field on the far side of the village—it’d be perfect for keeping Mewmyas there.”
And just like that, I got her approval.
… By the way, do Mewmyas eat grass? They do? So they’re like goats, then?
Anyway, by the following week, the Mewmyas had arrived.
Four of them, to start with.
One of the adventurers who was good at this sort of thing said, “Then I’ll be a Mewmya farmer here!”
Thanks to that, everything from acquisition to transport to daily management was sorted out in one go.
You know, people really are the greatest asset. Even if they’re a little eccentric, skilled people are invaluable.
This guy, for instance, is a great person—his only quirk is that he has a habit of shouting weird noises inside dungeons.
So! I finally got myself some Mewmya fur.
And while I was at it, he told me, “Hey, kids should drink milk! Drink lots and grow big!” and handed me some Mewmya milk.
Tastes amazing, Mew milk that is.
“Alright, let’s start by analyzing the magic in this Mewmya fur…”
With a bottle of Mew milk in hand, I disassembled and absorbed the fur. Then, excited to see what kind of magic it held, I checked the results—and sure enough!
“There it is—‘Levitation’! Ah, but yeah, looks like the concentration’s too low, huh.”
Pretty much as expected.
The Mewmya fur did contain levitation magic—just not enough of it.
Even when I mass-produced reconstructed Mewmya fur, wove it into cloth, and built a carriage under the same conditions as the one made with pegasus feathers—it didn’t float at all.
Well, yeah. Makes sense.
A Mewmya is basically a giant cushion covered in fur with ears stuck on, and it occasionally floats by flapping those ears.
It’s not like a dragon, wyvern, or pegasus—it’s nowhere near that heavy.
In fact, an adult human could probably carry one if they just went “heave-ho.”
It’s too heavy for my current grade-schooler body, but an adult could easily manage it.
Probably about the same weight as me, actually.
So yeah, a creature like that wouldn’t need much levitation power.
There’s a huge difference between the magic it takes to make a horse fly through the sky and what you need to make a fluffy furball float two meters off the ground.
But on the flip side, it seemed like the type of levitation magic in pegasus feathers and Mewmya fur was pretty much identical—only the amount differed.
Which means… maybe this could work.
If I could genetically modify a Mewmya to hold a lot more levitation magic—then yeah, this might just work!
So, first things first—testing the idea.
When reconstructing the Mewmya fur, I cranked up the amount of levitation magic based on a rough “eh, probably like this” estimate.
Then I turned it into fabric and built a carriage with it, and—
“It works! It works!!”
Success! The body floated—just a little, but it floated!
So that’s it—the reason the regular Mewmya fur doesn’t work for floating carriages isn’t because it lacks the right kind of magic, but because it doesn’t have enough of it. Probably. Maybe there are other factors, but still!
“Alright, now the issue is how to mass-produce this… uh, Mewmyas are mammals, right?”
And that’s where the real problem started.
My first idea was to genetically modify Mewmyas to produce more levitation magic.
But unlike plant seeds, it’s not that easy. Because Mewmyas are mammals!
“… So, what, make a fertilized egg? Inside the Mewmya? Wait, how does a Mewmya’s body even work? I mean, look at this thing—it’s just a ball of fur with ears!?”
Yeah, the problem was, I didn’t even understand how a Mewmya’s body was structured.
Seriously—where do you think the organs are in a fluffy ball that floats by flapping its ears!? I’ve got no idea!
“Guess I’ll have to try disassembling and absorbing a live Mewmya to find out…”
That would mean… yeah. Breaking down and reconstructing a living creature.
“This is… a Swampman situation, huh…”
Yeah, it got philosophical for a second there.
Like, if an identical copy of someone were created and started moving around—would it be the same person?
Well… thinking about it won’t help. I’ll have to run the experiment sooner or later anyway.
Just as I steeled myself—
“Asumaaa-samaaa! Hey, Asuma-sama! Here, take this! Eat lots and grow strong!”
The Mewmya farmer came running over, handing me something.
“Huh? What’s this?”
“An egg!”
… Yeah, looks like an egg all right. Pretty big, too.
Smaller than an ostrich egg, but definitely bigger than a chicken’s.
About the size of a rice bowl, maybe?
“And… what egg is this?”
I asked, half-dreading the answer.
“It’s a Mewmya egg!”
“… It lays eggs!?”
What!? It’s oviparous!? Mewmyas lay eggs!?
They give milk and lay eggs!? What even—nobody told me that!
“So it’s like a platypus, huh…”
“Asuma-sama, what’s a platypus?”
“Uh, it’s kinda like… well, sort of like this thing…”
So there I was, staring at the egg I’d just been given, sketching out a diagram for Mishisia-san—who’d come to check on me—and explaining what a platypus was.
“Well… having the egg outside does make it easier to work with…”
“Work with? Like, to make it tastier or something?”
“Oh, so Mewmya eggs are edible?”
“Yeah! Super tasty! They taste like milk!”
… Honestly, that made me want to eat it a little.
But no—this was about genetic modification.
If I could make a Mewmya that produced stronger levitation magic, Panis Village would gain a whole new industry. I had to do this.
“Hmm, let’s see… this part, maybe? The one that produces the levitation magic… probably… ugh, this is so confusing…”
“Asuma-sama’s muttering to the air again…”
I’d started modifying the Mewmya egg’s genes right away, but yeah—this stuff was complex.
You have to start by figuring out where the information’s even stored.
Still, it was a lot easier than trying to modify a living Mewmya directly.
Somehow, I managed to finish the gene-modified Mewmya egg and got it incubated by the farmer.
Bless that guy. Seriously. Bless him.
But—
A week later, when the genetically modified Mewmya hatched—things went wrong.
“How did I not see this coming? I’m an idiot. A total idiot.”
In front of me, the baby Mewmya was flying energetically around the place, while the farmer was chasing it with a butterfly net yelling, “It flies! It really flies! What the heck!?”
“… Yeah, letting them fly freely kinda makes them hard to keep as livestock…”
Got it. Yeah, I get it now.
Sure, they’re easier to raise than dragons or pegasi—but keeping a creature that can just freely float off into the sky? That’s… really hard! Obviously!
The gene-modified Mewmya could fly quite well, flapping their ears and completely ignoring physics.
No way those tiny flaps could lift something that size—but hey, that’s fantasy for you.
“But it’s so cute, Asuma-sama!”
“Cute…? I dunno about that…”
Mishisia-san, who’d come to witness the chaos, was smiling fondly at the flying Mewmya.
But honestly, I thought their old style—just a gentle “flap, float, plop”—was cuter.
“Guess raising gene-modified Mewmyas isn’t all that practical, huh…”
“But the farmer said they’re easier to move around since they float all the time!”
“Oh? So there are some upsides… Hmm, maybe if we built a tall enough barn to keep them from escaping… Or we could make them heavier so they can’t fly as easily…”
In front of me, the farmer was gleefully shouting, “I can ride this thing!” as he grabbed a baby Mewmya and started gliding gently through the air.
… Was that fine? I wasn’t sure.
Still, gene-modified creatures escaping into the wild could be a total disaster, so… yeah.
In the end, we built a special barn just for the flying Mewmya.
Had no other choice—couldn’t risk it escaping.
But, you know, the big birdcage-like barn actually looked nice.
Could even be a tourist attraction someday.
More importantly, though—the fur from these Mewmya was loaded with levitation magic.
That was huge.
Because now, we could finally mass-produce carriages that used to rely on rare, expensive natural materials.
And so, these super-flying Mewmyas became one of Panis Village’s treasures.
Breed improvement usually takes years of work and effort—those improved breeds are the crystallization of all that time and dedication.
So of course, they deserve a fitting price.
You can’t just let improved breeds or strains get stolen. That’s common sense.
In this case, it only took me a moment thanks to genetic modification—but in this world, it’d count as “a miraculous new species born by chance.”
How much is a miracle worth? That’s something I’ll probably discuss with Edele-san later.
“… For now, we should probably keep this breed inside Panis Village.”
Someday, these flying Mewmyas might spread across the kingdom—or even the world.
But doing that now would tank the value of pegasus and wyvern feathers.
So yeah—let’s only sell the finished products outside the village.
That’s probably the most peaceful approach.
Anyway—
With the Mewmya farmer happily saying, “This works out just fine,” I went ahead and bred more gene-modified Mewmyas.
Soon, we could reliably produce fur with a strong levitation effect.
That fur was spun into thread at the textile mill, woven into cloth, and turned into fabric.
And when I used that fabric to make a covered wagon—
“… It’s floating! Yes!”
Success!
We finally made a slightly floating carriage!
Now Panis Village could mass-produce smooth, no-bounce carriages! Hell yeah!
And with that—
“Alright, let’s go to the capital! Time to buy the next batch of books!”
“You’re quick to act, Asuma-sama! I love it!”
And so, to test the ride comfort—off we went, to the royal capital!
What do you think about this chapter?
