Chapter 188

Envoy from the Magic Kingdom (1)
A certain man arrived in Arland by carriage. His name was Norman del Ford. He is the First-Rank Mage of the prestigious Elnia Magic Kingdom. Though to be precise, he is fifth among the First-Ranks.

In the Magic Kingdom, there are ranks for magicians, sorcerers, and mages. Within those, ranks range from First to Fourth. Naturally, the same ranking applies to magic tool engineers, so there can be multiple First-Ranks. Still, being First-Rank means being among the top-class magicians even within the Magic Kingdom. Since the Magic Kingdom strictly regulates the quality of its ranks, refusing to allow any decline, there are only about ten First-Rank mages in existence.

Norman had received an imperial command from the Magic King of Elnia. The order was: “Secure Alicetia and the magicians under her command.”

“Barbarians truly have no shame. How can they shamelessly boast of our technologies as if they were their own achievements?”

“Indeed! No matter how many times we demand they hand her over, they just scoff! They don’t understand that we are the origin of magic and the rulers of all magicians on the continent!”

Norman’s mutterings were echoed by agreement from his disciples. They believed that it was only because the Magic Kingdom properly regulated all magical technology that order was maintained in the world. To them, Arland was a barbaric nation, and such a country could never possess the means to create airships or magic furnaces. In other words, they were convinced that Arland had stolen the Magic Kingdom’s research materials.

“However, our country is merciful. The princess is likely a First-Rank Mage herself, so if I, the fifth seat, were to personally confront her, I’m sure she’d weep and obey our command. After all, she’s a magician of impure blood.”

Impure blood—that was a term used in the Magic Kingdom. Purebloods are those born in the Magic Kingdom with untainted magical lineage, while those of impure blood are considered tainted. The Magic Kingdom claims that those of impure blood are meant to serve purebloods.

“Halt! Beyond this point lies Arland territory.”

As they crossed the border, they were immediately stopped at a checkpoint. Norman and his disciples were surprised. Their carriage bore the crest of the Wind Clan, a symbol of a pureblood family of great standing in the Magic Kingdom. Norman himself was the head of the Ford family, known as the Wind Clan. There was no way some knight at a checkpoint should dare to stop him.

“L-Let us kill them. For knights to stop Lord Norman’s carriage—what outrageous insolence!”

One of the disciples, overcome with fury, reached for his staff, but Norman held him back.

“Calm yourself. They are barbarians, after all. They simply cannot comprehend how noble we are. Remember how even the textbooks of our magic academy describe Arland as a savage land inhabited by beasts? It would be a waste to expend our mana on such beastly folk.”

“As expected of Lord Norman. What mercy and restraint.”

Shamed by Norman’s words, the disciple backed down. Though displeased, Norman then ordered the knight outside to bring them before the King of Arland at once. His tone was excessively haughty, but the knights, suppressing their irritation as part of their duty, calmly took out a magic communication device and contacted their superior.

“Wait. What is that?”

“This is a magic communicator.”

Norman was stunned. A communication device, in his knowledge, was something large enough to require a whole carriage to transport. And yet here was a mere foot soldier casually handling one.

“Present it to me.”

“I must decline. This is a precious item bestowed upon us by our princess.”

The knight flatly refused Norman’s demand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A vein throbbed on Norman’s forehead in anger.

(Calm down. They simply don't understand how superior I am. Judging by that device, there must be more like it.)

For a brief moment, Norman considered slicing everyone present to pieces, but he held back, telling himself he could have it presented to him later if Alicetia was the developer. That thought satisfied him, and the admiring gazes of his disciples lifted his mood.

Eventually, they were granted entry—officially, under special permission.

His carriage, escorted by Arland knights, reached the royal capital. Along the way, Norman saw unfamiliar black material laid across the roads, but when he asked, the knights did not answer.

The knights' silence was understandable. Arland also had arrogant nobles, but Norman and his disciples were so conceited that they made those nobles look like children. At one village along the way, when Norman asked if there were any girls for the night, the knights even contacted their superior to ask, “May we kill him?” Of course, the request was denied—though the superior reportedly stayed silent for about ten seconds.

As Norman drew closer to the capital, his face gradually shifted to one of shock.

Steel airships soared through the sky, and ordinary villagers used magic tools as if it were completely normal.

Children were even seen using golems to chase goblins. And even without golems, for Arland children, goblins were practically pocket money on legs.

Then, upon entering the capital itself, Norman’s expression went blank. The ever-expanding royal capital had already become the largest city on the continent. It was too vast. Though there was a shortage of people, the expansion was in preparation for the future. Laborers too used magic tools as a matter of course. Not even the great Magic Kingdom had such a saturation of magical devices. What galled Norman most was the sight of non-magicians receiving the blessings of magic as if it were nothing. In the Magic Kingdom, non-magicians were a slave class.

And what he found most intolerable of all—

“Why has the princess not come!?”

He had waited about thirty minutes in the audience chamber. Though the king was away on expedition and thus unavailable, Norman had been patient. Naturally, the king should have immediately returned to kneel before him, but Norman was merciful.

Yet no matter how long he waited, the princess did not come.

“Well? How did it go?”

Gilbert asked the knight who had gone to summon Alicetia, his face exasperated.

“Her Highness is awaiting her snack with all her heart and soul.”

The knight handed Gilbert a photo. In it, Alicetia stared sparkling-eyed, gripping her fork in anticipation for her snack. One could feel her iron will not to budge.

Gilbert carefully pulled out an album from his coat pocket, tenderly placed the photo inside, and then returned it to his chest. Some of the beastkin nobles frowned at this.

"Your Highness, that's rather sly of you. We would like a copy of that photograph as well."

"And just what do you intend to do with a picture of Alice?"

Gilbert shot back, glaring.

"Why, enshrine it in our temple, of course."

"We have recently come to the realization that our sacred halls are only truly complete when graced by the princess's noble visage."

"Could you all please stop deifying my little sister?"

"We must respectfully decline."

It was the same old exchange as always.

And then, Norman finally snapped.

"Enough of this nonsense! I am Norman, Fifth Seat of the First-Ranked Mages! I am the head of the Wind Clan! Bring the princess and her subordinates here at once!"

"We did call out to her, but she didn’t respond. Apparently, today Lady Alicia baked the cake herself, so they probably won't come."

"And Alicia herself?"

In response to Gilbert’s question, the knight answered with a sigh.

"Words don’t reach Lady Alicia when she’s making sweets for the princess."

They did call out to her, but she was so focused that she didn’t even react. Summoning her was impossible.

"What about the Technical Development Bureau?"

"They said things like ‘We have no business with the Magic Kingdom. We absolutely refuse to leave this place,’ and even started firing off magic. We managed to bring them here somehow... but their attitude is problematic..."

"Well, let’s have them meet him at least."

And so, the battered magicians were brought into the audience chamber.

"I thought they were savages, but even if they’re of impure blood, are they being treated as slaves...?"

Seeing their extremely filthy appearance, Norman's patience reached its limit. Even if they were of impure blood, how could great mages be abused until they looked like tattered rags? Of course, this was entirely his delusion. They had simply become so absorbed in their research that they’d neglected sleep and meals.

"Your Highness! Please, let us return to our lab! We must—must resume our research!"

"Well, it seems he has some business with you."

Gilbert conveyed the reason for their presence to the magicians who were practically foaming at the mouth to return to work. The knights must have explained it on the way here, but they’d been so busy screaming to be sent back that they hadn’t listened.

"So this is... an invitation to the Magic Kingdom?"

The magicians asked, looking dumbfounded and pale.

"You must have suffered. In our country, we would never tolerate such treatment of our brethren, not even those of impure blood. Come, let us go to the Magic Kingdom."

"No way!"

"Your Highness, we don’t need a salary or anything—just let us go back to our lab. We don’t care about the Magic Kingdom. Wasting time means we can’t study the princess’s magnificent magic!"

"You insolent—!"

At those outrageous words, Norman finally lost his temper and shouted. Known for his benevolence, Norman had never raised his voice before. His disciples were visibly shaken.

"Forgive me, but has your nation ever built an airship? Manufactured a magic furnace? Mass-produced magic tools?"

"......"

All of those were still in the research stage. And he wasn’t personally involved in any of them—he wasn’t a magic engineer. Their production of magic tools wasn’t even at a level that could be called mass production, due to low enchantment success rates.

"Our great princess has achieved all that in a short time."

"I am... of the Wind Clan..."

"I’ve heard rumors of wind mages. I admired them once, long ago. But compared to the princess, you are no more than dust."

"You dare mock purebloods while being of foreign descent!?"

One of Norman's disciples lunged at the magician from the Technology Development Bureau but was restrained by a knight.

"We're essentially the princess’s disciples. There’s no way we’d ever leave this country, where we can freely study her magnificent inventions. Even if ordered by the king, we’d resist."

"That’s right! I’d cling to a pillar before I let them take me out of this country!"

They, too, were fanatics. They had no intention of abandoning the perfect environment where they could use lavish budgets to explore the new technologies brought by Alicetia, all for the mere fame of serving the Magic Kingdom. To them, being Alicetia’s subordinate was more honorable than serving the Magic Kingdom.

Then one magician adjusted his glasses with his middle finger.

"That reminds me, Your Highness—we have a report. We’ve finally succeeded in manufacturing a magic furnace entirely on our own. It’s the prototype originally built by the princess, though."

Alicetia’s influence was undeniably transforming Arland. What he meant was that the Technology Development Bureau had already surpassed the Magic Kingdom.

That said, the magicians was simply reporting calmly. After all, Alicetia had already completed large-scale magic furnaces for both city infrastructure and warships. Compared to her achievements, their work was still that of fledglings.

"I see."

"Well, the output of the prototype isn’t very impressive compared to what the princess made, but we see it as a step forward. So… may we go back now?"

"Well, if I let you go, my sister will be in a foul mood. Don’t worry about the budget—keep researching all you like."

"Thank you very much... eyah, I can’t wait anymore."

"Let’s go back—to our lab!"

The magicians bowed and then flew out of the audience chamber at high speed. That’s how much he longed for the lab—or more accurately, for the pile of magical tools and magic theories created by Alicetia.

"Y-you dare make such a mockery of our country!? Return the princess and the technology you stole from us immediately!"

The moment Norman shouted that, the expressions of the Arland nobles and knights in the audience chamber went blank. He had said something he absolutely should not have.

And none of them—not Gilbert, nor the other nobles—noticed what had entered the audience chamber: a wooden box. Only the knight at the entrance noticed.

He checked the suspicious wooden box and lifted it. Inside, one of Alicetia’s clone was holding a puppy-sized magic beast.

"... Put it back."

The knight silently placed the box back over the clone and returned to standing at attention.

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