Concealment Is a Princess’s Accomplishment (2)
Gilbert’s point of view
“However, Your Highness, how did you notice it?”
One of the knights asked Gilbert curiously. Gilbert had already guessed, more or less, where Alicetia’s secret laboratory was located.
“There’s nothing about my sister that I don’t understand.”
Gilbert answered proudly.
Gilbert was, by everyone’s acknowledgment, a hopeless sister complex. From the slightest movements Alicetia made, he had already deduced the rough location of her lab.
“... Your Highness...”
The knight looked rather taken aback. True, Alicetia’s emotions often showed in her mannerisms. However, when she chose to stay silent, she stayed silent. Even in the exchange earlier, she’d managed to hide her thoughts so well that no one around her—not even Draconia—had realized anything.
Incidentally, Draconia was busy handling postwar affairs, working with the Prime Minister at the moment.
And so, Gilbert’s group arrived at the underground shipyard.
Or more precisely, at the passage leading to the shipyard beneath the ground.
“Most likely, Alice made a secret passage somewhere around here.”
“Not inside the castle?”
“Impossible. Alice may not look it, but she’s extremely cautious.
If she built an entrance inside the castle, Madame would find it. That woman can read Alice’s behavior patterns.”
In fact, most of the so-called “research rooms” within the castle were just playgrounds and labs for her “Lost Numbers”—copies that had fled from the original body.
Actual research was done there, yes, but mostly Alicetia’s frivolous, hobby-based studies—none of the dangerous kind that couldn’t be exposed to others.
After all, there was always the risk of being raided by Madame. Indeed, nine out of ten secret labs discovered in the castle had been found by her. When that happened, the copies would disperse their magic and vanish out of fear of being scolded. Naturally, the real body would end up taking the blame, but since she couldn’t properly manage her copies anyway, she couldn’t complain.
That said, making the lab outside the castle had its own issues—security concerns and the risk of information leaks. Especially since all of Alicetia’s research, if applied improperly, could easily become dangerous weapons. A scolding wouldn’t be enough to settle it.
For that reason, Gilbert concluded that the lab must be within the castle grounds—specifically underground, beneath an unused lot.
And from his earlier conversation with Alicetia, he deduced it was near the underground ship dock.
The reason he could tell? Because he had a sister complex.
A dangerously sharp one.
And so, Gilbert’s group arrived at the cleverly concealed entrance to the ship dock.
“I think the entrance should be somewhere around here…”
“Looks like an ordinary passage.”
They searched the pristine white corridor that stretched straight ahead with nothing in sight.
“There’s… nothing here.”
“My love for Alice tells me there’s something around this area… Guess I’ll go fishing.”
“Fishing… Your Highness?”
“She’s probably not here in person. Which means that’s a magically created Alice.
Do you know the difference between the real one and her copies?”
Gilbert asked smugly.
The expression on his face was so irritating that it made the knights bristle, but they couldn’t answer.
The biggest difference between the real body and the copies was the seal in her eyes—but since the real one hid it for inconspicuousness, there wasn’t much to distinguish them.
If anything, the copies were more instinct-driven—but so was the real one, so it made no real difference.
“Heh. I can tell. The one carrying sweets is the real one.”
“I’ve never seen her carrying any, though.”
“Of course not. Alice hides them. The copies don’t get any. She treats the ones she creates with magic rather carelessly, you see. She doesn’t even give them snacks.”
Because of that, some copies harbored murderous resentment toward the real one and would seize any chance to disgrace her—but that’s another story.
“In other words, this should lure out a copy!”
From the pouch at his waist, Gilbert pulled out a plate with a slice of cake.
“This’ll definitely work!”
“As expected of Your Highness!”
“Even the real one couldn’t resist that!”
Alicetia had a fatal weakness for sweets. She could be easily baited.
Gilbert took out a small table and chair, set them up in the corridor, and left a note that read:
“Please help yourself.”
Then, he and the knights hid around the corner and watched the cake.
Ten minutes passed.
From somewhere, Alicetia appeared, walking down the corridor.
“Sniff sniff… a sweet smell… Cake!”
(((So easy.)))
She was, indeed, incredibly easy to bait.
The copy looked around cautiously, occasionally swinging at empty air to check for anyone invisible.
“How’s that? Isn’t my sister adorable?”
Her small-animal-like behavior was undeniably cute, and the knights all nodded.
Alicetia was, at heart, beloved by everyone.
Once she’d finished checking her surroundings, the Alicetia copy spotted the note inviting her to eat freely.
“No reaction to poison… not that it’d affect me anyway. Alright then, let’s eat.”
After confirming there was nothing suspicious with an analysis spell, she began happily eating the cake.
“Mm… it’s so good…”
Moved to tears, she savored every bite.
When she finished, she looked sorrowful—and everyone watching had to fight the urge to give her another piece.
Then the copy suddenly gasped.
“Oh right, I’m on duty! I need to finish before Big brother gets here!”
Bullseye. Everyone thought the same thing.
The clone skipped off down the corridor. Gilbert’s group followed at a distance, keeping silent.
Both Gilbert and his knights were top-class warriors—they could conceal their presence completely. The copy, not sensing any pursuit, walked on until she stopped before a wall.
Gilbert’s group hid at the corner.
The copy knocked on the wall twice, and a section of it opened. She pressed a few buttons on a panel, and a door appeared. Passing through, she disappeared, and the wall closed again.
After a moment, Gilbert approached and knocked.
“Nothing’s happening, sir.”
“Wait. There was a rhythm to it.”
Gilbert’s “Sister-Con Eyes” saw everything about Alicetia—even how she knocked.
He mimicked the exact rhythm, and a section of the wall opened to reveal the same control panel.
Without hesitation, Gilbert entered the password he’d just seen, and the wall opened.
(Isn’t His Highness getting kinda scary lately?)
(Shh. Don’t say it.)
The knights were slightly unnerved witnessing the full power of Gilbert’s sister obsession. They wondered if leaving him unchecked was wise—but then again, there was nothing they could do.
Besides, Alicetia respected him as her brother but had absolutely zero romantic feelings for him, so it was safe.
If he ever crossed a line, she’d destroy him magically and politically both.
After all, in this royal family, the women were the truly dangerous ones.
And so, the hidden passage door opened.
“It’s pretty cramped in here.”
“She’s remodeled an air duct… This isn’t part of the official route.”
Gilbert smiled faintly. When it came to unofficial routes, Alicetia tended not to install her usual security systems—she’d get complacent. In fact, most of the labs inside the castle only had cleverly disguised entrances, nothing more.
A fair distance ahead, the Alicetia copy walked along in high spirits, humming to herself and not sparing a single glance behind her.
“M–My lord, look down—down!”
As they crossed an open space, one of the knights let out a nervous squeak. They were on top of an exhaust pipe that ran high above the ship dock—quite the height, even for a strong knight. Though even if he fell, he’d probably only end up with a few scrapes, he happened to have a fear of heights.
“Quiet.”
“But—”
Gilbert was a little startled himself, but if they gave up now, the entrance might be sealed off at any moment. This could be their only chance.
Gilbert glanced down.
(She’s building something incredible down there…)
Below them lay an area under extremely tight security—even more so than the rest of the ship dock. It was the construction bay for magic warships.
Incidentally, these ships could only leave via teleportation; they were too large to use the normal underground passages meant for standard armed airships.
Why the need for such heavy security? Gilbert had always wondered. The documents Alicetia submitted were so specialized that even he, with all his knowledge, struggled to make sense of them. And whenever he tried to ask her directly, she’d vanish the moment she handed over the paperwork—acting purely on instinct. He’d never had the chance to ask.
But now that he saw it, he understood.
(This… this could change the balance of the entire world.)
Even a single armed airship had once toyed with and crushed the mightiest fleet of the Empire—the largest and most powerful on the continent.
Yet the magic warships being built below were far larger than those airships.
They were floating fortresses of steel. Only about half the hulls were complete, but from the blueprints, Gilbert could already imagine the final form.
Once finished, these ships would shake the continent itself.
Alicetia had resolved to face the central continent in war. Gilbert realized that anew.
The weapons below were meant to secure Arland’s victory—and afterward, to demonstrate Arland’s overwhelming might.
Gilbert saw two magical warships under construction:
The King Draconia–class magic warship, and a cheaper derivative, the Prince Gilbert–class magic warship.
They were of the same basic design, but there was a decisive difference:
the Draconia-class mounted a massive turret-style railgun, while the Gilbert-class was armed with 20-inch cannons.
To Alicetia, the latter was the “economy model,” but in practice, it was an entirely different machine—built for different purposes.
The Draconia-class specialized in anti-airship combat, while the Gilbert-class could also engage ground targets.
Of course, their maintenance costs were astronomical. The Minister of Finance frequently ended up prostrating himself before Alicetia, begging her to halt production of the Draconia-class. The upkeep costs were ruinous.
It was a project that could easily bankrupt the kingdom. But since it was designated as top secret, Alicetia had funneled vast amounts of her own fortune into it, meaning the kingdom’s actual financial burden was minimal.
Moreover, Gilbert had no intention of stopping her—valuable new technologies were emerging from the project.
Indeed, below them, many Dwarven engineers were hard at work under the supervision of Alicetia’s copies, studying and refining their skills.
After watching for a moment, Gilbert resumed pursuit before the copy disappeared from sight.
At last, they emerged into the main passage—and the instant they did, alarms began to blare.
“Looks like we’ve been found.”
“Big brother!? What are you doing here!?”
Startled by the alarm, the clone ahead turned around—and froze when she saw Gilbert’s group.
“That’s weird… If you’d come in through the entrance, the alarms would’ve gone off long ago, and by the time you got here, you should’ve been wearing spiked shoulder pads, ripped jeans, and carrying a flamethrower!”
“... Just what kind of traps did you set up in that passage?”
Apparently, there were traps that forcibly turned intruders into post-apocalyptic warriors just by walking through.
“A–Anyway! Unauthorized personnel—especially my brother—are not allowed! Prepare to be neutralized!”
The wall opened, and a horde of golems poured out.
“Wait, those are—”
“If they’re golems, it’s fine to break them!”
The knights charged forward to clear the path.
“Hold it!”
The golems’ eyes flashed as one of them blocked a descending sword with crossed arm-blades.
“Wahaha, don’t underestimate them—they’re not ordinary soldier golems.”
“So they’re already finished—the third-generation combat golems, Manaloids! Wait, what about the second-generation Adamant Arms project!?”
“That one got scrapped. The Demon Emperor Reactors we designed for them couldn’t be built with our current tech. The explosion during testing was… quite the mess.”
Originally, the Adamant Arms golems were meant to replace the standard soldier golems—superior in every possible way.
But powering them with magic crystals proved nearly impossible; their fuel efficiency was abysmal.
To solve that, Alicetia began researching Demon Emperor Reactors—miniaturized versions of magical furnaces.
But even with her genius, it couldn’t be done.
It was like asking someone to shrink a nuclear power plant into an attaché case without lowering its output.
Even for Alicetia, the theory existed—but metallurgy and magical engineering simply weren’t advanced enough to make it practical.
When she forced a prototype, one of the four secret research sectors was completely destroyed in the resulting accident.
“So that tremor that shook the castle yesterday—that was you!?”
“Explosions are part of research. Don’t worry, there wasn’t much external damage. I just lost a lot of valuable equipment, that’s all.”
In place of the abandoned Adamant Arms, the Manaloids were developed.
They used an extremely simplified version of a magic furnace—the so-called mana furnace.
While nowhere near as powerful as a true magic furnace, it incorporated ancient technology salvaged from an Imperial warship, allowing it to efficiently absorb ambient mana.
The result was a highly capable golem.
When a knight’s sword strike was blocked, he followed up with a kick—but the Manaloid mirrored the same movement, kicking back with identical speed and precision.
“It’s mimicking our movements!?”
“The Manaloids were built based on Arland knights’ combat data. You can’t win.”
The Alicetia copy smirked smugly—but in the next moment, one of the Manaloids was smashed into a wall, collapsing in a cloud of smoke.
“Impossible!”
“Your Highness, please don’t underestimate us. You used our data? That means nothing.
That’s the old us. Today’s us are far stronger than yesterday’s us!”
Apparently, these muscleheads didn’t even understand what “data” meant.
They’d also completely forgotten their actual mission—to secure Alicetia’s secret lab.
Their eyes gleamed with excitement, thinking only of destroying the powerful foes before them.
They’d deemed the Manaloids worthy opponents. That meant they had only one goal—to defeat them and surpass themselves.
Suppressing their excitement, they licked their dry lips.
“Damn… I underestimated the growth rate of these muscleheads.”
“Well, uh…”
The knights scratched their heads shyly—“musclehead” was a compliment to them.
“Haven’t you all forgotten the mission!?”
““““Leave it to us! We’ll annihilate the Manaloids and prove our might!””””
“THAT’S NOT THE MISSIONNNNNNNNNNN!”
Gilbert’s roar echoed through the passage as the battle reignited.
The Manaloids fought well—but against the knights, they could do little more than buy time, and their numbers dwindled quickly.
Seeing that, the Alicetia clone turned tail and bolted at full speed.
What do you think about this chapter?
