Can’t Escape
Right now, I’m tied up with rope and being dragged away like some livestock.
“This makes no sense.”
I’m a princess. This kind of treatment shouldn’t be allowed. That’s what I thought—but halfway through, I changed my mind.
“Come now, Your Majesty, it’s time to return to your cell (office).”
“Did you just say cell!? I’m the king, damn it!”
“The Prime Minister is waiting for you.”
On my way to captivity, I happened to pass by Father.
He was wearing handcuffs and ankle shackles with an iron ball attached, being escorted back to his office.
Most likely, he’d gotten fed up with his massive workload, tried to escape, and was promptly caught.
Well, that’s nothing new. Once he’s dragged into his office, they’ll chain him to the chair.
Then he’ll break the chains and run off again, only to get caught.
That’s our daily routine in the royal castle.
I can already tell they’ll send a request my way soon, asking for stronger chains.
Maybe I’ll gift them some metal wire this time.
Our eyes met.
(Daughter… you too…?)
(Rough day, huh.)
Somehow, I felt like our parent–child bond had deepened.
After that, I got an extensive lecture.
By the three-hour mark, I snapped and tried to knee-kick Madame Smith, but I lost—and the scolding got even longer.
Seriously, the only reason I ever acted like a quiet, obedient princess was because I was pretending.
Oh Goddess, please—just this once—take my place for this lecture!
… No? Figures. You never listen to my prayers, do you?
No matter how many times I begged, you never answered me!
That’s why I don’t worship you anymore, you useless goddess!
Anyway, there’s no way I’m ever going back to being a meek little princess.
Once, I couldn’t dream of beating Madam Smith, but now? I’m sure I’ve surpassed her.
So there’s no reason to submit anymore.
That said, could she please stop spanking me?
I’m not the least bit sorry or regretful, but having my butt turn red is downright humiliating.
Someday, I’ll defeat Madame Smith.
That’s the vow I made that day.
---
I successfully escaped Madame’s “re-education” by blowing up my room.
Hello, this is Alicetia.
Honestly, I should’ve just done that from the start.
Now there’s chaos all over the castle from the mysterious explosion, but it has nothing to do with me. Probably just an accident, right?
At last, my candy stockpile has reached the mental-stability threshold.
I’ve recovered. It was a rough ordeal.
Alicia spent nearly a week making sweets twelve hours a day,
and every confectionery shop in the capital had to close temporarily to fulfill my bulk orders.
Because of that, the price of ingredients for sweets almost skyrocketed.
But since I had no intention of making my citizens suffer,
I sent subsidies to the capital’s merchant guilds to stabilize prices.
Sure, I blew through a mountain of money—but I don’t regret it.
By next year, I’ll have earned back even more anyway.
Actually, my income is too high—it’s becoming a problem.
The kingdom insists they’re obliged to pay me, but isn’t this getting a bit absurd?
Pretty sure I’m the highest-paid person on the continent…
Well, I do invent a lot of new technologies, so that’s probably why.
I try to spread the profits to as many people as possible, but the more I move, the more my income increases.
And the more people profit from me, the more they act to profit for me.
It can’t be helped. Maybe I’ll start investing instead.
Let’s build a bunch of academies first.
And next, an orphan training program.
There’ve always been a lot of orphans—it’s only natural for a land ravaged by endless wars.
The Empire next door is to blame for that.
I’ve already poured mountains of donations into the Holy Church to build orphanages,
but it’s still not enough.
Time to establish large-scale orphanages and training institutions.
That should burn through some of my fortune nicely, while lowering the crime rate and strengthening the kingdom in the long term.
No one’s going to oppose it.
Also, there’s something I need to get off my chest. I did help the Holy Church build their Grand Cathedral, yes.
But… why are there two cathedrals now?
Wait—one of them belongs to the Angel Church? Never heard of that one. A new religion, huh?
A new sect with enough money to build a cathedral is impressive.
According to Alicia, some believers of the Holy Church also worship the Angel Church together.
It’s not forbidden by Arland’s laws or by the Holy Church’s doctrines, though it’s unusual.
Alicia says they’re clean—no suspicious activity.
Though, judging by her face, it’s not completely without issues.
Apparently, relations with the Holy Church are tense. Makes sense—they basically poached half their followers.
And since they’ve already built a cathedral, their momentum is real.
At least the Angel Church doesn’t hate the Holy Church—that’s something.
But why did they send me the honorary title of High Priestess?
I already have that title from the Holy Church.
Am I allowed to hold both?
The Holy Church priests looked like they were about to cry.
Well, whatever. Even if they gave it to me, I’m not worshiping that goddess.
She’s a useless bum who let the Holy Church steal her divine power.
The only reason I’m thinking about that useless goddess right now
is because I’m trying to avoid reality.
“Princess! Please give up already!”
“No! The word ‘surrender’ isn’t in my vocabulary!”
Having escaped “re-education,” I was facing my second ordeal.
After crushing Madame Smith’s vile ambitions, I was heading to the capital, eager to go on a food stall tour.
But the moment I opened my door, I came face-to-face with Madame Smith—who was just about to knock.
I tried to quietly close the door, but she caught me.
Apparently, she’d prepared a new dress for me to wear to the victory celebration.
Although Arland suffered minimal damage in the Imperial War, the army took catastrophic losses—nearly half perished.
Some nobles died, and the feudal armies were devastated.
That’s why the victory feast had been delayed so long.
Even my brother’s birthday celebration was postponed.
Well, in this country, there’s no rule saying birthdays must be celebrated on the day.
You celebrate when you can—sometimes even beforehand.
And so, the delayed party now overlaps three events:
the victory celebration, my brother’s birthday, and my own birthday.
The capital is lively, to say the least.
I’m not going. Socially, I’m a complete recluse. I never attend these kinds of parties. Absolutely not.
The last time we won a border skirmish against the Empire, the victory banquet was hell.
I have no intention of repeating that nightmare—being forced to endure muscle freaks and pushy meat offerings was pure humiliation.
Madame Smith grabbed me firmly by the waist, trying to drag me out of the room, while I clung to the doorframe with all four limbs.
“Madame Smith, can you hear it? My limbs are screaming. They’ll snap soon.”
“Then you can let go right now.”
“Absurd. If my arms and legs break, I can’t attend the party. I don’t mind at all—go ahead and break them.”
A few broken bones is a small price for skipping that party.
Go ahead—break them and get yelled at by everyone.
“Still resisting?”
While I was locked in a fierce struggle with Madame, my exhausted brother arrived.
“Don’t give me that look—it’s your fault I’m this tired! You could at least help me a little. Father’s been running away every day, you know!”
“I’m making inventions. My administrative duties are minimal.”
“Ghh… you have no idea how deadly that pile of paperwork is.”
“Not my problem. Threaten the nobles into helping you.”
“They’re all collapsed already!”
Oh, so my brother’s usual tricks have run dry. Well, the nobles hate helping him most of all. They say it’s like working under the Grim Reaper’s gaze.
Basically, my brother is terrifying.
He openly admits that tormenting corrupt nobles is his hobby.
“Watching those arrogant fools tremble in despair—it’s so satisfying.”
His words, not mine.
“So, what do you want? You know I’ll never help with your royal duties.”
Even if he used his ultimate move—the dogeza—I wouldn’t help.
Right now, I’m fighting for my freedom from Madame Smith!
She’s still pulling hard, but my limbs are firmly hooked on the doorway.
They’re creaking, but holding.
“Come on, Madame, give up already.”
“Princess should be the one to give up!”
“Well, putting that aside… about the armor you gifted to the Sheffield heiress.”
“I have nothing to do with that.”
“You can’t just say that! At least tell me its specs. Right now it’s unlikely, but Ostland could become a hostile nation someday. You didn’t, say… install any dangerous weapons, did you?”
“……………… I did not.”
“Oi!”
“I did not, okay!”
I can’t say it… I absolutely can’t say it.
That I installed the Ultimate Armament [Angel’s Trumpet]—a micro black hole generator—on a whim.
If it activates, it creates a micro black hole affecting a ten-kilometer radius.
Yeah, no, I’m taking that one to the grave.
I whistled innocently and looked away.
Is it just me, or is it hot in here? I’m starting to sweat.
As I pretended to know nothing, Madame released my waist—and I immediately used my brother as a shield. Hiss!
“… Go retrieve it. Now.”
“You’re asking me to take back what I’ve already bestowed?”
“Even I can’t defend you on this one.”
… Hmm.
“Brother, I happen to have here a simple magic aptitude test kit, the book Magic for Monkeys (All Elements), and the design for a new general-purpose magic staff.”
“…………”
Big brother’s expression turned bitter.
“You know what I’m implying, right?”
“You’re telling me to look the other way, aren’t you?”
“No. You know nothing. I’ve never given any dangerous items to another country. Got it?”
“You do understand what could happen if it gets analyzed, right?”
“You’re wrong, Brother. If they have the power to analyze that armor, then our world’s magical technology isn’t as shabby as I thought.”
“‘Shabby,’ huh…”
“Besides, the enchantments used aren’t even that classified.”
“… Isn’t that just because you don’t care about them?”
“Compared to the new model Magic Comb No. 1724 I finished yesterday,
that armor’s basically a toy.”
It uses the unknown energy I discovered while... ahem, observing the effects of a runaway magic furnace. I succeeded in using it — the so-called Void Energy.
And the single completed prototype of the Void Engine succeeded in producing incredible power. The magic furnace is now an obsolete relic of the past.
“You were about to say you made it run wild for fun, weren’t you?!”
“You’re noisy, Big brother. Well, I call it an ‘engine,’ but all it’s really doing is drawing mysterious energy from an unidentified world.¨And for some reason, only the engine installed in this magic comb works properly.”
I tried building others with the same structure, but they couldn’t connect to that mysterious world. Honestly, I was half-asleep and unmotivated when I made the first one, so I still don’t understand how it connected.
I also have no idea what’s wrong with the others or why they won’t run.
They’re built exactly the same way… so why don’t they work?
Oh well, no use worrying about it. I used the Void Engine I created as the power source for this magic comb, making use of spatial storage. Originally, I planned to mount a magic reactor designed for an armed airship, but it turned out that reactors are incompatible with spatial storage — they become unstable when placed in an alternate dimension. Plus, they didn’t generate enough mana.
“Damn it, I packed too much magic into it!” I despaired. I’d layered too many formulas. Unit 1724 alone has 7,029 layers of magic formulas.
Even Eibon — who’s currently locked in the dungeon again for se*ual harassment in the castle — said that stacking this many formulas was impossible. Even a deviation of one millimeter—no, one attometer—would cause a massive explosion. The manufacturing difficulty skyrocketed.
But Eibon also praised me, saying that stacking all 7,029 layers by hand without even a one-attometer deviation was a divine feat. It’s my latest creation — the pinnacle of my craftsmanship.
“Isn’t that already an artifact?”
“It’s not finished yet.”
“You’re still aiming higher…?”
“I feel like I’ve finally reached the halfway point.
It truly was magnificent. The beastfolk were moved to tears, literally worshipping Alicia’s tail for how beautifully it turned out.
Though personally, I think it’s still far from perfect.”
If you’re satisfied with that level of fluffiness, you’ll never become a true Fluff Artisan.
I’m an artist. I can create greater beauty still. If I give up now, I’ll be stuck at that level forever. I can’t stop here.
I’ll keep stacking magic formulas! Aim for 200,000 layers!
I clenched my fist in determination.
“Alright, I understand your resolve. Using a unique, unverified, and irreplaceable engine as the power source for a magic comb... well, fine. It’s not like it can be duplicated anyway. The worst that’ll happen is that the magicians in the Technology Development Bureau fall into despair.”
“They can’t know about it. They’d dismantle it!”
If they found out about the Void Engine, they’d absolutely take it apart to study it. I don’t even know what would happen if they did. Actually, I don’t think it can be dismantled. I just have a feeling it’d cause catastrophic damage.
So yes, you could say I stored it in an alternate dimension because it’s dangerous. But it’d be a waste to leave it unused, so I just siphon the mysterious energy it generates from another world.
“So... have you considered what you’d do if that armor ever became an enemy?”
“I’m certain Anon would never use that armor against Arland. But if Ostland were ever to turn hostile toward us, I’d scatter this Elixir of Death and make the Ostland king regret it.”
This is an industrial byproduct created during the process of manufacturing the Elixir of Life — one that causes all body hair to fall out.
Heh heh heh… Once the hair-fearing King of Ostland learns of this potion’s existence, he’ll never make an enemy of us. And he should already know — we used it back in the Empire.
In my previous life, I made a similar drug just to mess with Japan’s Prime Minister and make him bald. Wonder how that jerk’s doing now. What an unpleasant man. Iris — that’s me in my past life — and I used to make all sorts of bets with him.
Let’s just forget about that guy.
He’s the only one I never beat at mahjong.
He stole my technology for extracting precious metals from seawater… and several other breakthroughs.
… You think I’d forgive him? Not a chance! Someday I’ll invade Earth myself and leak his adultery scandal to the newspapers! The grudge over those pickled plums will never fade, not even after reincarnation! I’d forgotten until now — but now that I remember, I’ll never forgive him!
“Well… he is a king. He’ll probably put his kingdom before his hair. Probably.”
“Anyway, I’m making new magic armor for the knights, so it’s fine.”
The thing about the Trumpet of Angels is a secret, okay? ☆
“Oh-ho? I haven’t heard about that either.”
“I’m currently designing two types of magic armor using the newly mass-produced Dark Matter Alloy and the White Matter Alloy I developed from it.
The basic structure’s the same as Anon-chan’s armor, though. But since hers is made of Alice Steel, ours has higher defense and lower mana consumption. Hers was just a prototype.”
“So once that magic armor’s complete, there’s no real threat, then?”
“Yeeep, that’s right~”
The Trumpet of Angels doesn’t exist, okay!
“… You’re still hiding something.”
“I don’t like brothers who nitpick over details. (monotone)”
“Guhah!”
Good, Brother’s down. That should deflect any further questioning.
Now then — I shall go to the capital and tour the food stalls!
I strode off triumphantly — and immediately felt a hand grab my shoulder.
“You’re in the way.”
I swatted at the hand, but it didn’t budge. Turning around, I found Madame, expressionless, gripping my shoulder.
“I’m heading to the capital to tour the food sta— I mean, to inspect the capital. So please, release me.”
“Your Highness is attending the victory celebration.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
I snorted. Who in their right mind would attend that muscle-fest of a banquet? Besides, I have far too many enemies in high society. I’m done being their plaything. Those noble ladies treat me like some sort of doll. They’re the enemy.
Whenever they see me, they insist on hugging me — and because of our height difference, they press their chests against my face on purpose.
Hateful… so hateful…
Shut up, you short, dead version of me from my past life! I’m not like you anymore — I’ll grow up to be like Mother someday! It’s not inferiority, it’s just… residual trauma. Yeah, that’s it. So begone!
“Alice… one more thing I forgot to mention… You’ve been approved by our kingdom and all our allied nations… to become a Sage… guh.”
Brother lifted his head just long enough to say that, gave me a thumbs-up, and passed out.
The moment I heard those words, I forgave everything.
Yes, Madame had reddened my backside countless times. It was humiliating.
When I realized I couldn’t win, I had her transferred to a provincial post through back channels — yet she simply completed her assignment and returned. She should’ve stayed there.
Every time I tried to ambush her, she defeated me, and every time, my poor bottom paid the price.
But I’ll forgive her. After all, I’m a Sage now.
A Sage… I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it’s probably stronger than a Great Mage, right? I’ve never heard of one before. Probably a nation-level power. That means I now stand at the pinnacle of all magic users!
Madame Smith, as a Sage, I hereby forgive your many insolent acts. You may release me now — with tears of gratitude, preferably.
I said this kindly, yet she continued to hold my shoulder.
“Madame, I’m in a good mood today. I’m offering you mercy by forgiving your past misdeeds. You should let go before I get angry.
Also, by my authority as a Sage, I hereby skip the victory celebration. I’m going to lead the kitties on a parade through the capital. It’ll be a festival!”
Her grip on my shoulder tightened, trembling slightly. I sighed.
“Heh heh heh… Madame, I can tell what you’re feeling. That’s fear, isn’t it?
Until just a moment ago, I too feared you — just a little, like this.”
I wiggled my fingers to show her how much fear I’d felt.
“But not anymore. Because I’m a Sage. The strongest magician there is.
I’m powerful now. I could one-punch you, Madame. One punch! So let go.”
But Madame didn’t release me.
“Then I’ve no choice. Prepare yourself to be vanquished by my fist! Hmph! … Huh?”
“Your reach is too short, Your Highness.”
To my horror, my fist didn’t reach her. In a flash, Madame seized my head.
“Coward! Madame Smith! Fight me at equal size, if you have any honor!”
“Haaah…”
This is bad, really bad. I’m going to lose! I tried desperately to escape, but it was impossible with my head in her grip.
What should I do? Think… think! That’s it!
“Smile!”
I forced a bright smile at Madame.
She smiled back.
A gentle world.
CRACK! My skull screamed.
A harsh world.
Still holding my head, she lifted me clean off the floor and carried me away.
What do you think about this chapter?
